by Jillian Hart
“You’ve managed to stay alive all this time.” Rachel rolled her eyes, as if she wasn’t fooled one bit. “I just think you’d make a great dad if you ever let yourself get close to a nice woman and marry her. You have a good heart.”
“If I ever find anyone as sweet and as good as you, Rache, then I swear I’ll marry her on the spot. You’re the reason I haven’t gotten married. It’s your fault I’m still single.”
“How is it my fault?”
“Because who could ever measure up to you?”
“There was somebody once—” Rachel turned to grab Westin’s softball. “You’re gonna clunk into someone if you’re not careful.”
“Hey! No fair.” Westin stopped and planted both hands on his hips. His indignation was cute, and he knew it. “Can I have my ball? Please?”
“No.” Rachel stood her ground. “You’ll get it back when there’s no one around for you to accidentally hit.”
Ben grabbed the softball from her hand, and she hadn’t even seen it coming. One moment she was gently scolding their nephew and the next she was staring at him with openmouthed accusation.
“You are in hot water, too, mister.” Rachel could pretend to be scolding all she wanted, but neither of them was fooled. She was a big softy, and he could charm her out of any mood. “Ben McKaslin, give me that ball.”
“Nope.” He tugged on her ponytail instead, and watched a flush rise in her face. “Ah, I haven’t tormented you for way too long—”
“Look out!” someone shouted from behind him, but it was too late.
He knew he was in trouble, as if an angel nudged at his shoulder, but he was already stepping toward Rachel to give her ponytail another tug. Something hit the back of his head so hard, his vision blurred, stars exploded in front of his eyes and he dropped to his knees.
Some sisters might have commented that he’d gotten what he deserved, but not Rachel. She was on her knees beside him, with a newly caught softball in her hand and brushing at his face with the other. “Are you all right? Ben? Can you hear me?”
“Uh, sure.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, okay.” Pain dizzied him. His stomach rolled, but everything stayed down. He pushed a hand against the ground so he wouldn’t embarrass himself further by falling over. He had no idea where his crutches were. Only that his head hurt as if someone had tried to crack it open.
“I’m so sorry.” A woman’s voice came from somewhere behind him. A woman’s familiar voice.
If his head would stop spinning and pounding maybe he could place who the woman was. All he could do was moan and push away Rachel’s offer of a paper cup full of ice. Other voices around him blurred and melded into one huge background noise. The sunlight became stabbing.
Then he gazed upward and his hazy vision blurred on a woman’s form, her sleek dark hair and her heart-shaped face very familiar.
The harsh midafternoon sun blazed downward, blinding him, and the pain of the light was like a physical blow. Air whooshed out of his lungs as if he’d been sucker punched. But in that strange airless state his eyes cleared and it was Cadence he saw, hovering over him, concern soft upon her dear face. It was her voice that he heard above all others, when so many people were talking at once.
“Ben. Are you all right?” she asked softly.
No, he wasn’t all right, because he was imagining her again. It had to be a concussion, he figured, or worse. What other reason could there be that he’d imagined the only woman he’d ever loved?
Only a strange misfiring of neurons, since God wouldn’t be that cruel as to bring him face-to-face with Cadence Chapman one more time. To show him everything he could never have. It was like showing heaven to a condemned soul. For one millisecond he hoped she really was there, and then he tasted the bitter reality. The air rushed back into his lungs and his sight returned. She was not there, hovering before him like a dream.
“I’m fine, really,” he told his hovering sisters, who’d caught up with them and were getting ready to diagnose a concussion. “I have a really hard head, so I’m fine. I’ve taken worse blows before this.”
“That explains a lot,” the voice that was so like Cadence’s commented dryly as she pressed a paper cup of ice to his head. “Feel better?”
“Heaps.”
Cadence? It was her? He watched as she knelt beside him, lithe and graceful as a ballerina, as wholesome as the girl next door, and real flesh and blood. No dream. No figment of his imagination.
What are you doing here? he wondered, but didn’t ask. He could only stare in amazement as she leaned to inspect the back of his head. She smelled like those purple flowers his mom would always plant in the flower beds right up close to the house. It was a soothing scent. Lavender, that’s what it was, and the scent suited her, he thought as her fingertips grazed the back of his head.
“Oh, you already have a lump there. I think you need to go to the hospital and have a doctor look at that.”
“I don’t have a concussion. Did you have to be the one to hit me in the head with a ball?” He wanted to be annoyed with her.
The pain in his head was beyond annoying, but Cadence could never be. Concern softened her lovely features as she knelt close to study the size of his pupils. He hated how having her so close tugged at something within him. Like a long-forgotten door in his heart. A door he’d locked on purpose. “I’ve survived gunfire and grenades and explosives. A baseball is nothing.”
“Oh.” As if he’d slapped her, she jerked away. “I see. I guess you’re just fine. Good. It was nice seeing you, too.”
She rose to her full height, and from his position flat on the ground she appeared taller than her petite five-three. Her dark hair whipped around her shoulders, the ends of the ponytail lashing back and forth, and she looked like an Amazon out for vengeance. Except her face wasn’t fierce looking, but pitying.
Pitying. What? As if he’d turned out so bad after all? Or what? Then again, maybe it wasn’t pity he was reading on her face. It was certainly something else as she dismissed him and looked over her right shoulder.
“Are you gonna hafta go into the hospital, too?” Westin had gone ashen pale as he clutched Amy’s hand, snuggling up against her legs like a frightened puppy. “They got grape Popsicles there.”
The boy’s words were meant to be encouraging, but Ben’s chest cracked with pain. Amy had written about the incident earlier in the summer when Westin had nearly drowned in the river. “Thanks, buddy. I’m okay. Don’t you worry about me, got it?”
Westin’s wide eyes remained owlish, but he nodded. “Okay, Uncle Ben. If you gotta go, me and Mom could stay with you. So you don’t get scared.”
Amy knelt to draw the boy into her arms. “That’s mighty brave of you, but Uncle Ben’s going to be all right. We’ll get some pizza and that’ll fix him right up. What do you say, Ben?”
“Sure. Pizza is a respected cure for headache pain.”
Cadence felt the earth shift beneath her feet. The boy was Amy’s son? Not Ben’s? Her brain screeched to a halt as she watched the McKaslin clan—people she hadn’t seen since high school—gather around Ben. He rose to his feet and his family handed him his crutches, concerned but hiding it behind gentle kidding comments meant to make him smile.
Ben took his crutches casually, as if they were no big deal at all, and that’s when she noticed the surgical scars running up the length of his calf. And the unmistakable red-purplish round scar, about the size of a quarter, that could be only one thing—a bullet wound. He’d been injured in the line of duty. Wounded defending their country.
Respect hit her square in the chest, as if she’d been the one to take a wayward fastball. The brightness of the sun, the motion and activity on the fields surrounding them, the noise of the games and the scent of summer on the wind faded into nothing.
Only Ben filled the center of her senses—how he positioned the crutches and leaned on them, saying God had graced him with a hard head for a reason
, reassuring Paige that he was telling the truth.
Then he turned to wink at her, as if to let her know there were no hard feelings. The breeze puffed through his short dark hair and brought her the scent of his aftershave, woodsy and crisp—the same, after all these years.
This was the man who’d abandoned her first. The one who’d said he’d never settle down. He wasn’t made to be held back. He was meant for bigger and better things than being tied down to a wife and a diner the way his dad was.
It was hard not to let the anger rise, even after all these years. She’d thought she’d found peace, that she’d moved past an event that had happened almost half a lifetime ago. She’d been wrong. Forgiveness had many layers. It was hard to take a step back from the family she’d once known so well. Paige was in her late thirties now; the last time Paige had spoken to her, she’d been a young wife with a baby on her arm. The strapping teenage boy standing next to her had to be that baby son.
And Rachel and Amy had been high school and junior high girls. Cadence wondered how so much time could slip away when she wasn’t looking.
Amy took her son by the hand, and a ring sparkled on her fourth finger. Marriages and children and family—those were the things that mattered. That gave each year more precious meaning than the last.
Before the family’s conversation could turn to her—they’d established that Ben was fine and Westin, who’d been hospitalized apparently, was no longer worried for his uncle’s welfare—she took another step back. Her teammates were calling for her and it would be so easy to step back into the crowd and disappear without saying another word to the McKaslins.
The busyness and noise of the city’s huge baseball park returned and she waved to Rachel, who appeared to be the only one noticing her departure.
An arm clasped her shoulders. It was Paige. “The last time I saw you, you were on TV wearing a shiny medal.”
When Cadence studied Paige’s face, she saw there was only kindness reflected in her brown eyes, and the tension inside her eased. Whatever hard feelings there had been long ago when she and Ben broke up were not here today. Some things in the past were truly forgiven, and for that Cadence was thankful. She’d so loved Ben’s sisters and, judging from the rush of affection within her, that was something that hadn’t changed either. “I was very blessed during that time in my life. How are you?”
“Surviving. This is only my second T-ball game since my boy was little, and things were different then. There were no fancy parks like this for the kids. You play on a team. How come we didn’t see you last week?”
“I was out of town.”
“I hear rumors about you now and then. Traveling to events and competitions. You’re doing something with the college?”
“I’m adjunct to the sports departments. I coach, since a lot of kids on the university teams used to be mine through high school.”
“Was that why you were out of town?”
“No, I went to visit a friend this time. Tell me—”
Paige was ready with another question. “A friend? I notice there’s no wedding ring on your finger. Does that mean you’re still looking for the right guy? Or is this friend the one?”
Was Paige fishing for information, Cadence wondered, or was she simply asking out of courtesy? “No, this is a Romanian diver I met when I was competing. Olga and I struck up a friendship.”
“Is she the one who was supposed to be your big rival?”
“There was no rivalry, although I think the media tried to put that spin on it. Diving isn’t the most exciting Olympic sport. It’s pretty peaceful, so I imagine that rumor spiced things up a bit during the coverage. But Olga and I have always had the greatest respect for one another. She’s coaching in Australia now, and I had gone down to see her during the Sydney Games…it’s a long story. Anyway, we’ve always kept in touch. She is a true friend.” One who’d stuck with her through thick and thin.
“And a great blessing.” Paige seemed to study her, as if she could see past the layers to the truth beneath. “I can’t imagine your life could have been easy then, as beautifully as you dove. It must be a great relief to be back home in Montana.”
“It’s where I want to be.”
“Then stop by the diner sometime when you’re driving through town to see your mom. You can have a chocolate shake for old times’ sake. And come and visit with me, all right?”
A sincere invitation. After all she’d been through, Cadence appreciated it. She’d learned the hard way what was truly important. “I’d like that.”
“Good. Now, you have to come to Amy’s wedding.”
“Oh, absolutely.” Amy joined them. “The wedding is next month, and I’d love for you to come. I didn’t know you were living back home.”
“I have a place here in Bozeman.”
“Then give me your address and I’ll send an invitation.”
Amy had grown up to be such a lovely woman, Cadence thought as she waited while the sisters began digging in their purses for pen and paper.
“When I think of you, I remember a ten-year-old girl with pigtails,” Cadence confessed. “It’s hard to believe you’re a mom.”
“Westin just turned seven.” Amy pulled a pen from the depths of her purse, while Rachel crowded in with a small notebook from her book bag.
Cadence gave the required information, aware that the softball game was continuing without her and that Ben had deliberately stepped aside with Amy’s son. Of all the people that ball could have hit, did it have to be him? He seemed to have recovered and perhaps felt uncomfortable, the same way she did, since he’d turned his back to her.
Since she didn’t believe in coincidence, she had to wonder why Ben McKaslin kept crossing her path. What was God trying to tell her?
“Did you know that Cadence isn’t married?” Paige seemed to be speaking with her sisters, but a sparkle glinted in her eyes as she met Cadence’s gaze. “Still single after all these years.”
“No, really?” Rachel leaned closer, greatly interested. “How strange, because Ben isn’t married either.”
“A coincidence. Some might say that was a sign from above,” Amy added.
No way. Cadence knew exactly where this was going. “I haven’t met the right man at just the right time. I’m in no hurry.”
“Love happens when it happens,” Amy said sagely, radiating happiness, the diamond engagement ring sparkling on her left hand. “It’s even sweeter the second time around.”
Pain cracked like a broken rib in her chest, and Cadence spoke before the well-meaning sisters could take this one step further. “I’m not interested in getting married. I figure if it hasn’t happened yet, it probably won’t. I love my life exactly the way it is. Although I’m happy for you, Amy.”
“Come have pizza with us,” Paige invited, speaking over her sister. “When your game’s done, just come on over. We’re going to the restaurant just on the other side of the park. I’m told everyone goes there after their games.”
“No.” Her gaze shot past Paige’s shoulder. “This is your family time.”
“You’re like family,” Rachel piped up. “At least stop by so we can catch up. We can be friends like we used to be.”
Cadence’s chest cracked a little more. After all she’d been through, how could she say no to that? “I’ll stop by, if I can find you. The restaurant gets packed.”
“Good enough.” Paige beamed with approval. She was a beautiful woman with a gentle smile that seemed to be reassuring.
Cadence could feel the wings of disaster fluttering overhead. “I’ve got to get back. It was good seeing you all.”
As their cheerful and rather hopeful-sounding goodbyes rang in the air behind her, she spun on her cleats and ran back to her game. Hurt welled up over the what-ifs in her life, the places where so many times the forks in her path could have brought her marriage and family and hadn’t.
Her team was up, and she weaved through the spectators toward the barrier fence b
ehind home plate. She felt Ben’s gaze on her all the while, like a lasso wrapping tight around her throat as if to haul her back. But she was stronger than that and kept on going. She took her place in line with her team.
“Lucky that guy wasn’t hurt much,” Peggy commented. “People have really gotten hurt that way.”
Cadence nodded, focusing on the opposing team as their pitcher wound up—she had a killer slow-pitch. She kept her thoughts on the game where they belonged, because as much as she’d once loved the McKaslin girls, they hadn’t become her family. As much as she’d loved Ben, he had never loved her the same in return.
So much time had passed and so much life had happened to both of them that now Ben McKaslin was just some guy to her. It was all he would ever be.
As if an angel touched her on the shoulder, she turned to the exact position where she could see the McKaslin family meandering through the busy park, talking amicably the way a family should. The little boy skipped ahead, followed by Ben on his crutches, the metal glinting sharply in the sun as he moved. His strong arm muscles bunched and rippled as he went.
With any luck, the restaurant would be too crowded and there would no need to see him again. And if she did, there was no reason to think things could be any different this time. Life wasn’t like that.
She’d learned that the hard way, too.
Chapter Six
Why did his gaze find her the instant she strolled into the restaurant? Ben wondered. Especially when he’d intentionally chosen a table as far away from the front door as he could get and sat with his back to the front of the restaurant?
“See? You’re drawn to her.” Rachel leaned to speak into his ear. “Somebody better go over and invite her to sit with us. If he doesn’t, then one of his sisters will.”
“Stay out of this, please.” He said it firmly so she understood. But he didn’t want to hurt her feelings, and took her hand. Rachel was such a sweetie it was impossible not to take care with her. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but it’s not what I want, pretty lady.”
