He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but that wasn’t it. “I don’t get it. There are other coaches. Other guys.”
“He wants you.”
Sam rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Why?”
There was a long moment of silence, and then she sighed. “To be perfectly honest, Sam, I don’t know. What I do know is that it’s important to him. And you know how he is. He probably thinks you needed a little more time in Stewart Mills. But whatever his reasons, they’re personal.”
There was a time—essentially the last decade and a half—when thinking of his hometown had brought up painful memories of a shitty childhood, an alcoholic mother who couldn’t protect him from it, and what was an adolescence headed toward self-destruction until Coach McDonnell got hold of him. Coach had taught him to be a part of a team—a brotherhood, even—and how to be a man.
Since the trip back for Eagles Fest, though, thinking of his hometown evoked the sweet memory of Jen Cooper’s legs wrapped around his waist, her back arching off the hood of her car as her fingernails dug into his forearms. His mind had been evoking that particular memory a lot lately.
“Sam?”
Kelly’s voice dragged him back to the present, which hadn’t included a woman’s company since he left New Hampshire. “I’m still here.”
“What are the chances of you being here?”
He thought about what he had here in Texas. A decent job as an oil field electrician. A good truck. A mobile home that suited his needs well enough and didn’t demand much upkeep. And he had some friends he’d hit the local bar with once in a while, even though he stuck to soda.
Then he weighed that against what Stewart Mills held for him. There was the only man who’d ever given a shit about him and who needed his help. And a mother struggling to stay sober, who wanted to make amends Sam wasn’t ready for yet. And there were the good friends he’d gone too long without, but he hadn’t known just how long until he saw them again.
And there was the woman who’d shifted the earth under his feet with just a touch.
“I know it’s a lot,” Kelly said. “The season can go into November if they make the play-offs, and the doctor hasn’t given us a time frame for Coach’s recovery yet.”
“They’ll make the play-offs,” he said. He’d seen them play and they were damn good.
She laughed softly on the other end of the line. “Maybe that’s why he wants you.”
Maybe. But Sam suspected the old man simply wasn’t done with him yet and had seen an opportunity to bring him home. “I’ll be there. I have to wrap up a couple of things, and I’m going to drive this time instead of flying out. It’ll probably be a week.”
“Thank you, Sam. It’ll mean everything to my dad.”
“He means everything to me,” Sam responded, and he was surprised to find himself a little choked up. “He’s really okay?”
“He really is. Weak, like I said, but the damage wasn’t too bad. He won’t be sneaking any more hash omelets at O’Rourke’s, though, if my mom has anything to say about it.”
“I think Mrs. McDonnell will have a lot to say about it.”
When the call was over, Sam propped his feet up on the cooler and leaned his head back against the chair.
He’d been in Texas a long time—longer than any of the many other places he’d lived in over the years—but he had to admit it had never really felt like home. He’d stuck it out in New Hampshire until he got the high school diploma that meant so much to Coach and Mrs. McDonnell, and then he’d hit the road with no destination in mind but anywhere else. He’d worked a lot of odd jobs, landing in Texas, before going back to school so he could make more money.
But in fourteen years, he’d never really settled down. He’d never bought a house, instead making do with short-term rentals. He hadn’t found a woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with or started a family. He didn’t even have a dog. Maybe, deep down inside, he’d always known he’d go back to New Hampshire someday.
When he talked to his employer, an extended leave somehow became quitting his job. And filling a couple of duffel bags turned into packing his belongings into boxes, which he then tied into big garbage bags because his truck didn’t have a cap on it.
Nine days later, Sam drove into Stewart Mills and paused at the main intersection. He let his truck idle at the stop sign a little longer than was necessary to avoid getting a ticket, since there was a crop of new signs and it was easy to forget them. Then he started toward Coach’s house because, dammit, he needed a hug from the man.
When he left after high school, he never thought he’d ever return to this town. But now he was back in his hometown for the second time this year, and this time he had everything he owned in the truck.
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