by Taylor Hart
Happily, she threw her arms down to her legs. “Gaa.”
“Right.” He pointed at her and thought about the heavy-duty three-wheeled stroller he’d seen in the laundry room folded up next to the broom. “I think it’s time for a run.”
15
It astonished him how much Maddy seemed to enjoy the stroller. He’d finally figured out how to work the maniacal clips and straps. He felt like she could survive any kind of off-roading in this get up. He jogged quickly down the Young driveway and hit the highway, staying to the side and watching for any possible cars.
It was quiet. Barely six, he figured. He really didn’t mind being up at this hour. In fact, he preferred sunrises. He’d always appreciated them on his runs in Dallas, and he preferred trails to treadmills. He liked to feel like he was ‘getting somewhere’ instead of watch meaningless shows like some of the other players liked to do in the weight room.
In Dallas, he liked hitting the streets around the stadium on his conditioning days. The trainers had wanted him to stay in the facility, but he hadn’t cared. He’d needed to run to get away from his lousy playing. He might have been off his game this past year, but he’d never been off his training.
Before he realized it, he’d come to a sign that read ‘Wolfe Creek,’ and immediately, he saw another sign that read ‘The Alaskan Inn.’ Pausing in front of the Inn for a second, he realized that this was where Roman and Katie had gotten married. The media had made a big deal about how this had been the place they had met and restored together. This was the place Roman’s uncle had left him. Truly, he and Katie had been a modern day love story—akin to Prince Wales and Diana. Sam snorted. He used to be bitter about it. Now it was just funny that he was actually here.
The place looked great. The trees that led to the semi-circle driveway were large and the sharp pine smell filled the air. The log cabin style inn looked cheery with its bright red door.
“Huh,” he mused and glanced into the stroller to make sure Maddy was doing okay.
She looked up at him and grinned. Her lips were folded around a plastic ring that was attached to the front part of the little section that had clipped in front of her.
“Is this your daddy’s house?”
“Gaa.” She grinned, baring the little front teeth that were poking through her gums.
Taking off into a sprint, Sam pushed the stroller ahead of him down Main Street. It was quiet; there was no one on the road. He flew past a cemetery then a row of houses. Finally, they got to some shops, and Henry’s Hardware was on his left next to a café called Leapin’ Lizard’s. Amused, he turned up the opposite side of the street toward a ski resort.
The previously level road turned into a steep climb up the hill, and he wished he had brought some type of electrolyte drink with him. Nevertheless, he kicked it up a notch, digging into the hill by lifting his knees and keeping his chest high, like he’d seen on those YouTube videos about hill running.
The thing he didn’t anticipate was the strain that having a stroller would add to the climb. He tried focusing on the scenery and not thinking about getting to the top of the mountain. Like most of the local ski resorts, Wolfe Creek had been commercialized. There was a large resort rental area, clothing shop, and eatery to his left. He was considering heading into the large parking lot to let himself recover for a second, but then he saw Tiffany’s truck.
16
She was parked by a crooked sign pointing the way to ‘The Wolfe’s Haven Diner.’
The diner was surrounded by trees with plenty of balcony seating. Sam noticed her walking up the steps. She was wearing a simple pink dress that ended right above her knees paired with socks and white tennis shoes. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a ponytail and she was carrying the same black purse from last night. Before he could yell out her name, she disappeared inside.
Almost without thinking he found his legs were moving up the rough path. It wasn’t paved like the rest of the fancy ski resort to the side. No, this road had gravel, and Sam guessed it would be awful in the winter. She definitely needed the four-wheel drive she drove.
Stopping at the bottom of the brown steps, he picked up Maddy’s stroller and sprang up the steps. The smell of coffee greeted him at the top, and he put the stroller down on the rickety wood. As he opened the door, it ‘dinged,’ announcing his arrival.
The first thing he noticed was a bunch of old fashioned posters on the walls. The greats including Elvis, Marilyn, and James kept watch over the patrons. He heard what sounded like Elvis coming from a jukebox in the corner.
“Can I help you?”
A tall, dark man with brown eyes and a warm smile stared at him from behind the old school diner breakfast bar.
“H-hi.” Sam pushed the stroller up to the breakfast bar, grateful that he’d grabbed his wallet on the way out. “I…” He broke off, scanning for Tiffany.
“Can I offer you some water?” The man turned, picked up a small glass, and filled it with ice and some tap water.
Sam caught his breath, realizing he was breathing hard. “ Thanks.” He chugged back the water.
The man smiled down at Maddy, his eyebrows rising. “Well hello, little Maddy.”
He put the glass on the counter with a loud clunk, and grabbed a package of saltine crackers for Maddy.
The man still didn’t look at him. He reached forward, lightly touching Maddy’s hair. “I heard that another football player had come to town.”
The man’s tone was neutral, like he was talking about the weather.
“Yep.” It shouldn’t surprise him that everybody knew Maddy and knew about him being here.
The man stepped back and scoffed. “You had come to apologize to the great Roman Young,” the man said the name in an annoyed tone.
Sam narrowed his eyes, not knowing where this conversation was going.
The man grinned. “What can I say, I was always team Dumont.” His lips widened into a grin. He stretched his hand out. “I’m Lou Revel. I own this place.”
Relaxing, Sam reached for his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Gesturing to the barstool, the man nodded. “I heard Josh is in the hospital. How is he?”
Small towns. Right. “Roman’s bringing him home this afternoon.”
The middle of Lou’s eyebrows creased. “I’m glad he’s okay.” An eyebrow went up. “Is Katie staying in Europe with Mrs. K?”
For some reason, Sam felt like this guy was a little too interested in Katie, but he shook it off. “Yep.”
Sam noticed Lou’s jaw seemed to tighten for a second before he let out a deep breath. “Well, what can I get you to eat?”
Deciding he may as well eat breakfast while he was here, he sat. “Egg white omelet with mushrooms and ham.” He saw the large orange juice machine and couldn’t stop himself. “And a large glass of OJ.” He glanced down at Maddy, who was now happily munching on a cracker. “Let’s do some pancakes for Maddy.”
Keeping the grin in place, the man turned for the hinge door that separated the kitchen and the diner. “Be right back.”
The front door dinged again, and Sam turned to see two older men sporting mustaches, wranglers, and boots slip in.
He focused on Maddy and hoped they didn’t recognize him. “Do you like that cracker?” Obviously she did because it had turned to white mush all around her lips.
“Looks like she’s adjusted to you.”
Semi-annoyed, Sam noted his heart rate jumped from just hearing her voice. He looked up at Tiffany. Her blonde hair was piled on her head, and a few wisps hung down beautifully. Her make up was simple—mascara and lip-gloss. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “I thought that was your truck.”
She had already grabbed a napkin, wet it, and leaned over the bar to lightly dab Maddy’s face. “How’s my girl today? Did you go for a stroller ride?” she asked it all in her high-pitched voice.
The center of his chest tightened at the sight of her lean body draped across the counter.
“Have you heard from Roman today?” She pulled back easily, dropping the napkin into the trash.
“Uh.” Focus. Focus, man. “I got a text last night that said he thought he’d be checked out about ten and then they’d head home.”
“Good.” Seemingly satisfied, Tiffany walked around the counter and went to the two men sitting a few seats down. “Jim, Henry—the usual?”
“Hey darling,” one man with a mustache that curled said as he pulled the toothpick out of his mouth. “Sounds good to me.”
The other older man nodded. “You know how we like it.”
Tiffany started to move to the kitchen swivel door. “Okay.”
“How’s your mama holding up?” asked the mustached man.
Hesitating, Tiffany turned back, and Sam noticed tension in the way her eyes creased when she smiled at the men. “Mama’s mama.” She shrugged.
A few minutes later Lou brought all the food out to Sam and Maddy, and Maddy’s appetite did not disappoint. She obviously knew these pancakes and made her ‘uh, uh’ noise to tell Sam to hurry up. After trying to juggle feeding himself and her, he gave up and decided it was easier to fill her tank before filling his own. He grinned down at her and used a wet napkin to keep the syrup from getting all over and making everything sticky.
“It looks like you’re a pro at this.” Tiffany appeared in front of him, holding a pot of coffee in one hand and smiling at Maddy. She laughed as Maddy grabbed for another piece of pancake before she was done with the one in her mouth.
Gingerly, Sam wiped Maddy’s sticky hand and quickly scooped up more pancake and held it up to Maddy’s mouth. “I think she’s trained me more than I’ve trained her.” Flicking his gaze to Tiffany, their eyes locked.
His heart flip-flopped. Nonsensical. That’s what this was. He was seriously nervous as he sat in a diner and talked to a woman. He noticed it wasn’t the kind of panicky nervous he’d been experiencing for the past year. No. This kind of nervous was akin to what he’d felt in junior high school when he’d talked to girls.
He put a few pieces of pancake onto Maddy’s little tray and then turned back to Tiffany. “So have you decided what you’re going to tell the band yet?”
The smile immediately left Tiffany’s face. She shrugged, and Sam noticed the sad look from the night before was back on her face. “I can’t do it. I just can’t leave mama right now.” Her lips went into a stern line.
Sam nodded, and he let out a low whistle. “That’s a tough one.”
She frowned. “But you don’t agree with me?”
He shrugged. “Hey, I like your mama. I do. But you can’t live your life for someone else.”
He remembered when he’d had to make that decision for himself. He still considered it the hardest thing he’d ever done. But he knew that accepting the scholarship from the University of Miami and shutting his father out of his life had been the right choice. He couldn’t have supported them both. He wouldn’t have made it with his drunk dad holding him back. He had known it then, and he still believed it now. If Sam were honest, he still felt guilty over it.
“Is it that easy?” she challenged him.
Crossing his arms, he drew in a breath. “I never said it was easy, but your mama is stronger than you think, and she’s proud of you. Plus, if you want to be the best, you have to make sacrifices along the way. You just have to face that.”
Tiffany turned around and put the coffee pot down. When she spun back, he saw daggers in her eyes. “Is that what you did, Sam? Just push to the top no matter what?”
Anger surged inside of him. It felt like she was accusing him of something. “I do what has to be done, and if that means taking a shot, I do it. You’d be a fool not to take this shot.” She should. He hated the way she let her ex-boyfriend have so much influence over her. She was good, and she should do it.
Her eyes smoldered, and she leaned closer. “Of course that’s what you do, and the consequences be damned, right? Like how you took Roman’s wife when you wanted her.”
A jolt of adrenaline pushed him to his feet. She may not have physically touched him, but he felt the sucker punch all the same. He took a deep breath, leveling her with a glare. “At least I’m not afraid to take what I want.”
Her look became even more fierce. “Not afraid to be a jerk!”
Just at that moment, Lou came out of the kitchen and saw them facing off, locking eyes, and looking ready to pounce. He put food down in front of the two old men and moved to them. “What’s going on?”
Tugging his eyes away from Tiffany, Sam looked down at his uneaten food and pulled his wallet out. He threw down a hundred dollar bill and then took the rag Lou had left to clean up Maddy, using it to wipe off all the syrup. “Thank you, Lou, but I have to go. I can see it was a mistake to come here.”
17
Sam sat on Roman’s couch. He looked at his phone. Ten thirty-five. Maddy was down for a nap. Sam had swept and mopped and shined up the kitchen. In fact, when he’d gotten back from the run, he’d immediately put Maddy down for a nap. Then he’d gone through the house and vacuumed. Tiffany’s words stuck with him, filling him with frustration that could only be soothed by movement. So he’d picked up toys and stacked them and vacuumed up a storm. Then he’d dusted, and then he’d scrubbed bathrooms. He’d even talked himself through this whole ordeal with Tiffany, thinking he might not need a shrink anymore because he pretty much knew exactly what she would say about it all. But he wasn’t going to tell the shrink about Tiffany because she meant NOTHING. There. Done. It was behind him. He was leaving for Miami soon. He’d already purchased his ticket and would be leaving that afternoon.
What was he doing, anyway? Sitting around playing house. No, he did not play house. He was cold. Aloof. A womanizer. A jerk, as Tiffany had put it.
How had he gotten tied into this? To her. To her stupid music career—that she obviously didn’t really want. She couldn’t become all that she was capable of by hiding in her room and laying down tracks. She had to get out there. Do something!
But could she see that? No! Could she see that he was actually helping her? No!
Even with all the exertion of cleaning the house and getting up early and putting Maddy down for a nap—which included holding her and dancing and swaying and singing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” twenty times—he wasn’t tired. Not at all.
His leg shook with nervous energy, and he couldn’t wait for Roman to get home, so he could get to the airport and get out of here as quickly as possible.
Did it feel good to be square with Roman? Yeah. Heck yeah. He was glad about that. Glad he could help out. Unwillingly, he smiled when he thought of that cute, chubby cheeked little eater. He was glad he’d had the chance to get to know Maddy.
But it was time to move on. Tiffany’s face flashed into his mind. He remembered the way she had looked when she played the guitar and looked at the strings and focused on singing Bon Jovi with him.
For a moment, he got lost in the memory of how he’d felt sitting next to her as the music flowed through both of them. It had been magic.
For a second his body stilled, peace filled him. She was beautiful. Not just because she was an amazing singer, but also because she was vulnerable and good and tried to do the right thing. Guilt tugged at him. Maybe he wished he had been more like her. More kind. Caring. He should have gone to see his father when the hospital had called. Before he knew it, tears were streaming down his face.
His father was gone.
His mother was gone.
He had no one.
The faint sound of a truck door slamming alerted him to Roman. He stood, wiping his face and sucking in a breath. He moved to the front door and saw Roman’s black truck.
He watched Roman and his son coming to the steps. The boy looked better, but Roman still kept an arm around him.
Sam flung open the door.
Roman gave him a tired smile. “Hey.”
Sam moved to the side and nodded
, taking a more thorough inventory of Josh. He had a bandage on the back of his head. “How is it going?”
Josh paused next to him, giving him a good once over. Then he smiled, and Sam’s heart warmed. “Thanks for staying with my sister.”
Sam nodded. “You bet.”
A hand went down on Sam’s shoulder, and Roman swallowed back emotion. Tears were in his eyes. “I really appreciate you sticking around to help.”
Emotion surged inside of Sam, and he nodded and shut the front door behind them. “I’ll make you guys some sandwiches.”
Roman pulled his hand back. “I got your text. What time does your flight take off?”
Sam checked his watch. “I fly out at six, and I have a cab coming at two.”
A half hour later, Roman and Josh and Sam sat around the kitchen table.
Roman glanced around the place. “You didn’t need to clean.” Of course Roman knew Sam had been the one to clean it. When Sam had lived with Roman years ago, he used to joke that he hadn’t realized he was getting a maid, too.
Sam took a bite of his sandwich. “You’re welcome.”
A light laugh escaped Roman. “Thank you.”
Sam glanced at Josh. “So how are you feeling?”
Josh smiled and swallowed. “Better.”
Roman cleared his throat and then patted Josh’s back. “Doc says we just need to be cautious he doesn’t bump it. That he doesn’t get head aches or dizzy or nauseous.” He sighed. “I should have been watching more carefully.”
Sam could tell he felt awful.
“Dad.” Josh rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t your fault. I’m okay.”
That’s when Sam knew that he liked this kid.
Josh pushed his sandwich away. “Can I go see Tommy?”
Roman hesitated. “Okay. Take your phone and text me when you get to their house. Don’t do anything physical.”
Josh took off like a shot.
When he went out the door, Roman seemed to relax, but his eyes still looked tired.
