Dogwood Hill

by Sherryl Woods

  “I need to get over to the high school before nine,” he said. “I’m meeting with Coach Gentry and Rob Larkin to make some plans for next season. I want to do some unofficial spring training to assess the players before school’s out and assign their workouts for the summer. Maybe another day. See you, Liz.”

  He was almost to the door when she called out. “Aidan, is it true what I heard, that you only signed on to coach for a year?”

  He nodded.

  “That doesn’t seem to give the team much of a chance to get its act together.”

  So, Mick had been right. People were going to be upset by what they viewed as a lack of commitment.

  “I think it’s long enough for both the school and me to see if we’re a good match,” he replied.

  “Or is it a way to hold the town up for a lot of money if they want you to stay?”

  Aidan frowned at the suggestion it had anything to do with money. “Any idea what a successful pro football player makes, Liz?”

  She blinked at the question. “Not really.”

  “Then let me reassure you, I don’t need to take advantage of the town. My career may have been cut short, but I did okay and most of what I made is doing just fine in investments. I took this job because I’ve always wanted to coach at this level. This seemed like a great place to start.”

  “Then why not commit?”

  He studied her closely. He sensed there was a lot more behind the question than the obvious. “Is commitment a particularly touchy subject for you, Liz?”

  The direct question seemed to take her aback. “Isn’t it for everyone?”

  “I suppose, but this seems to matter an awful lot to you.”

  “I just think people should keep their promises.”

  “No question about it, which is why I made a commitment for the amount of time I thought made sense for me and for the school. At the end of the year, we’ll both decide how it’s working out.” He gave her a knowing look. “Sort of like dating for a year before committing to marriage.”

  The blush on her cheeks told him he’d hit the nail on the head. Somebody had run out on her, leaving her particularly sensitive to the whole commitment thing.

  “You’re right,” she said tightly. “Sorry if it seemed like I was judging you. I’ll see you around. Thanks for the help just now.”

  For the first time since he’d met Liz, Aidan realized that she wasn’t just a perpetually cheerful advocate for the joy of living in Chesapeake Shores. He recognized that there were things she was hiding, a skittishness he couldn’t explain. He couldn’t help wondering if her life was every bit as complicated as his. She might make his pulse race and his imagination take off in some steamy directions, but his life was unsettled enough right now without taking on her secrets, too.

  * * *

  “Was that Aidan I saw coming out of your shop a little while ago?” Bree asked, her curiosity in full swing.

  “Yes, but you can wipe that look right off your face,” Liz replied. “He saw me spill some stuff as I was crossing the green. He came down to help.”

  “Then the rumor’s true?” Shanna O’Brien, who owned the bookstore, said. “He’s taken one of the apartments upstairs?”

  “I guess so,” Liz said.

  “Your old one,” Bree told Shanna. “Much to my father’s dismay. Dad wanted him to buy a home.”

  “Which is why the rent money is going into escrow for a house,” Susie chimed in. “I drew up the paperwork myself. Dad told me it was Gram’s idea and that Uncle Mick actually went along with it.”

  Liz looked around at these women who’d become her friends, every one of them either born an O’Brien or married to one. Only Heather, Connor O’Brien’s wife and the owner of Cottage Quilts on Shore Road, was missing this morning.

  “Where’s Heather?” Liz asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from Aidan and her connection to him. “Come to think of it, she wasn’t at Sunday dinner the last time I was there, either.”

  Shanna glanced at Bree. “It’s not a secret, is it?”

  Bree shook her head, but glanced worriedly at Susie before answering. “Morning sickness,” she finally revealed. “It’s apparently hit her real hard.”

  “Don’t look at me like that when you mention morning sickness,” Susie grumbled. “People in this family are going to have babies. Just because I can’t doesn’t mean I can’t be happy for them.”

  Bree reached over and squeezed her hand. “But we all know how hard it’s been for you waiting to hear if you and Mack will be able to adopt.”

  “Sure it’s hard,” Susie said, “but please don’t tiptoe around the subject of babies and pregnancy. That just makes it worse. And, so help me, if you don’t ask me to be a part of planning for the baby shower, I’ll never forgive you.”

  A devilish grin spread across Bree’s face. “Great! You’re in charge. That works out perfectly.”

  “I guess that’ll teach me to open my big mouth,” Susie said with feigned dismay.

  Liz laughed. “I’ll help,” she promised.

  “We can get Jess’s chef at the inn to bake those scrumptious cupcakes with mounds of buttercream frosting,” Shanna suggested. She looked around the table. “That’s a hint for my baby shower, in case you didn’t recognize it.”

  “Of course you can have cupcakes,” Susie said. “And Bree will do her magic with the flowers,” she added, giving her cousin a triumphant look. “Won’t you, sweetie?”

  “Of course,” Bree said readily.

  “There you go,” Susie said. “Two baby showers under control.”

  “Since Heather’s not due for months yet, maybe we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves,” Shanna cautioned.

  Bree’s expression sobered. “Especially after the miscarriage Heather had last year. I know she’s really nervous. She and Connor want so badly to give Little Mick a baby brother or sister.”

  Again, a shadow of despair crept over Susie’s face. “At least they have Little Mick,” she said softly.

  Bree swore under her breath at the unmistakable tears that threatened to overcome Susie. “I knew we shouldn’t have started talking about this. Change of subject, please. Anything.”

  “I want to hear more about Aidan rushing to Liz’s rescue this morning,” Shanna said. “I’m so sorry I missed that. That man is some serious eye candy.”

  Liz flushed.

  “He is that,” Bree agreed, even as she held tightly to Susie’s hand.

  Susie managed a watery grin. “So, give, Liz. What’s the scoop?”

  “There is no scoop. We’ve bumped into each other a couple of times.”

  “And the cozy chat I saw you two having at Mick’s before Sunday dinner a couple of weeks ago?” Shanna teased. “What was that about?”

  Liz shot a poisonous look in Bree’s direction. “That was me trying to be friendly, per the directions of an O’Brien busybody. Nothing more.”

  Bree chuckled. “Tell me you didn’t enjoy yourself. There’s not a woman here right now who wouldn’t like being the center of that man’s universe even for a couple of minutes.”

  “Then I invite you all to take your turn,” Liz responded. “Aidan’s a friendly guy. I’m sure he’d love to get to know you all a little better.”

  “I’m thinking our husbands might object,” Shanna said, then shook her head. “Nope, I’m afraid he’s all yours, Liz.”

  “But I don’t...” Liz began, then frowned. “Oh, what’s the use? Not a one of you will believe me no matter how many times I tell you I’m not interested.”

  And sadly, after the way her pulse had done a happy little hop, skip and jump at the sight of him this morning, she wasn’t entirely sure she believed it herself.

  * * *

  Aidan stood on the sidel
ines after school as Coach Gentry put his players through their paces. He’d included a couple of graduating seniors in the workout, explaining to Aidan that none of the younger men had yet demonstrated the sort of leadership skills needed to be the team captain.

  “They’ve looked up to these boys for a couple of seasons now,” the coach said. “You’re gonna have guys who can pass, catch and block and a few decent tacklers, but they’re not a cohesive unit on offense or defense.” He gave Aidan an apologetic look. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this. It’s likely to scare you right off.”

  Aidan chuckled. “Nope, it just adds to the challenge. I want any insights you can give me about their strengths and weaknesses.”

  “Keep an eye on Hector Santos. He has good hands and good instincts, but he’s a pretty raw talent. As a freshman he didn’t get much playing time, but I suspect he could be a standout. Trouble is, he’s a shy kid, and it doesn’t help that he’s still struggling a little with English. His family’s only been in this country a couple of years.”

  Aidan’s instincts went on high alert. “Legally?”

  Coach nodded. “As far as I know. I didn’t ask for documentation. He’s enrolled in school and that’s good enough for me.” He leveled a look at Aidan. “I should probably warn you, though, that if he’s as good as I think and you decide to play him more, there’s going to be trouble with Porter Hobbs.”

  “Which one is he?” Aidan asked, surveying the field.

  “He’s Taylor Hobbs’s daddy,” Coach Gentry said, gesturing toward a lanky young man, who was throwing moderately accurate passes downfield. “The boy’s okay, but the father is a real piece of work.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Aidan said, making a note on his cell phone about that as he had with all the other tips the coach was sharing. He’d reach his own judgments over the next three weeks before school let out, but for now Gentry’s insights were helpful.

  He took another look at Taylor Hobbs and spotted the serious-looking boy who’d been catching his wobbly passes talking to him. From their intense expressions, it seemed the Hobbs kid was getting advice he didn’t much like.

  “Any idea what that’s about?” he asked the coach.

  “Henry’s a real good friend of Hector’s, but he’s also like some kind of team mediator. He gets that Taylor’s the quarterback for now, so he keeps trying to give him pointers. Surprisingly, Taylor listens to him, but not without giving him some grief.”

  “Still, it sounds like the boy might have that leadership quality you said was lacking,” Aidan suggested.

  Coach Gentry nodded. “Could be. It’s up to you to make that call now.” He studied Aidan. “You seen enough?”

  Aidan nodded.

  “I’ll call ’em over, then, and introduce you. You can take it from here and I’ll take off.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Aidan told him.

  “Yes, it is. Some of them have been listening to me for four years now, for better or mostly for worse. They need to know you’re in charge from here on out. You need me for anything, though, you know where to find me. I won’t be leaving town.” He gave Aidan a solemn look. “I love these kids. I want to see them reach their potential. I truly believe you’re the man who can make that happen.”

  “Thanks. I’ll try not to let any of you down.”

  The coach blew a sharp blast on his whistle and waved the boys over. “Have a seat,” he instructed, gesturing toward the bleachers. “I know you all are aware that I’m retiring. This is Aidan Mitchell. Some of you will recognize him as the rookie of the year in the NFL a couple of years back.”

  An enthusiastic cheer went up from the players.

  “Well, you can start right now thinking of him as your new coach,” Craig Gentry said. “And I expect you to show him the same respect you’ve always shown me. I think together you’re going to turn this team into something special. Take it away, Aidan.”

  He stood there a moment, clearly fighting some powerful emotions before adding, “I’ll be seeing you boys around. My door’s always open.”

  He turned then and walked quickly away to a loud ovation, deliberately led by Aidan.

  When silence fell, Aidan saw the young men regarding him intently. He took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say.

  “Hey, Coach,” the boy who’d been working with Hobbs called out. “Don’t look so terrified. It’s not as if we could do any worse.”

  The comment was greeted by nervous laughter that broke the tension.

  “Well, it’s my belief that we’re going to do better next year and even better the year after that,” Aidan told them. “To do that, though, you’re going to have to train hard, listen to what I tell you and play your hearts out.”

  “We can do that,” the same young man said. “Can’t we?”

  A surprisingly emphatic roar greeted his claim. Aidan grinned. “What’s your name?”

  “Henry, sir.”

  “Have we met?”

  “At Sunday dinner a couple of weeks ago at Grandpa Mick’s,” he said. “He’s not my real grandpa, though. I’m not actually an O’Brien, but Kevin and Shanna adopted me after my real dad died.”

  “What position do you play, Henry?”

  “When the family plays on Thanksgiving, I’m a quarterback,” he replied, then grinned impishly. “Around here, though, I mostly sit on the bench.”

  It probably made sense given his slight build, but Aidan sensed something in him that none of the other boys had yet demonstrated, a willingness to step up and a real ability to lead.

  “Well, Henry, here’s the deal. I can’t say for sure what these practice sessions will reveal to me about each of you or how this fall’s team will shape up, but for the next few weeks until school’s out, you’re the team captain. How’s that?”

  The boy’s face lit up. “Seriously?”

  To Aidan’s relief, no one voiced an objection. In fact, there were a surprising number of high fives from the surrounding boys, proving that his instincts, at least for the moment, were right on target.

  “Okay, then, here’s the plan. Starting tomorrow I want you here fifteen minutes after the final bell, ready to work your butts off. Nobody’s position on the team is guaranteed. You’ll each be earning the right to play next year. If you’re not strong now, you will be by the end of summer. Understood? I want you eating right, working out, acing your finals and on this field every single day doing your absolute best. I’m going to set up individual meetings with each of you so I can learn more about you. I’ll want your suggestions for making the team stronger. All of this may take more time than you’re used to putting in, but it’s mandatory.”

  He’d expected a few grumbles, but heard none.

  “Coach?” a boy asked hesitantly. “Are you going to cut any of us? My dad will kill me if I don’t stay on the team.”

  “Then we’ll do our best to make sure you’re good enough to stay on here,” Aidan promised him. “But you have to do your part.”

  A grin spread across the boy’s face. “I can do that.”

  “That’s it for today, then,” Aidan said. “I’m really looking forward to getting to know each one of you.”

  Henry was on his feet first. “Go, Lions!” he shouted.

  Soon feet were pounding on the bleachers and the refrain echoed across the field. Aidan smiled. If that enthusiasm carried over to their play, he had a hunch he could turn these young men into a team with a fighting chance.

  4

  Liz had just popped into the bookstore to pick up this month’s book club selection when Shanna’s adopted son, Henry, came bursting through the door, his face alight with excitement.

  “Guess what!” he called out, tossing his backpack onto a chair and shoving his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
<
br />   “Must be something good,” Shanna said, grinning at him.

  “Hi, Ms. March,” Henry said politely, then turned back to his mom. “Coach made me captain of the team. It’s mostly honorary since we’re not playing right now and it could only be for a few weeks till school’s out, but I’m captain! Can you believe it?”

  “Oh, sweetie, that’s wonderful!” Shanna told him. “How’d that happen?”

  “I’m not sure exactly,” Henry admitted. “We had a workout and then there was a team meeting with Coach Mitchell. Coach Gentry introduced him, then took off. It was kinda weird. Nobody was saying anything, so I spoke up. I made a joke, and then I got the other guys to show a little team enthusiasm, too. Maybe that impressed him. It didn’t seem like all that much at the time. I just felt bad for him. He seemed kinda nervous.”

  Liz held back a smile at Henry’s bemused expression. She couldn’t be sure, though, if it was over being named team captain or recognizing nervousness in an adult, especially a football hero.

  “I’m sure he appreciated what you did to break the ice,” Shanna said, then added loyally, “And you deserve to be captain. You have loads of leadership abilities.”

  “But I’m a lousy player,” Henry said candidly. “I’m fast, but my throws aren’t accurate, probably because those stupid contacts still make my eyes water, so I can’t see downfield. Or maybe I should start lifting weights seriously so my arm’s stronger. What do you think?”

  “Beyond my pay grade,” Shanna said. “But I’m sure Coach Mitchell will make the most of your talents and suggest what you can do to improve on them. That’s why he’s here.” She gave him a stern look. “Just remember one thing—”

  “No steroids,” Henry recited dutifully before she could finish.

  Shanna laughed. “Okay, I’ve said it a few times before.”

  “About a million,” Henry confirmed. “I get it. Really. I’m not going to put my body at risk just to play a sport.”

  Shanna regarded him with a triumphant expression. “And that is why I love you so much. You actually listen to me.”