One and Done (Red River Romance Book 3)

by Caryl McAdoo

  The two eggs slid right back into the small skillet he used.

  He glanced at her. “Okay. What?”

  “Are you still going to love me when I’m old, fat, and ugly?”

  “For sure, love’s blind.” He slipped her over-easy breakfast from the pan to her plate then threw a bemused grin at her. “What brought this on?”

  “Oh, if we have like ten kids. Guess which one of us is going to be the blimp.”

  “Michelle Dugger’s no blimp, and she’s had twenty.” He flipped his eggs. “So we’re stopping at ten?”

  Before she could punch him, her cell rang. She ignored the first stupid chime then ran to see who was so rude as to interrupt her day off, not to mention her breakfast. She grabbed it in time.

  Though she didn’t recognize the number, she touched ‘answer’ on its screen anyway. “Okay, you got me.”

  Realization hit her and she side glanced over at Gij who poured two glasses of milk. She turned away from him, cupped her hand by her mouth. “Yes. Um-hmm. Oh, yes, certainly. You do that.” She faced him. “Where’s the Caddy’s keys?”

  “In it.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

  “Want me to go with you?”

  “No. You stay here and eat while it’s hot. I’ll be back before my eggs get cold.”

  She sprinted to the garage and remembered to click the door open. Swiss cheese! Putting a big hole in the garage door would be such a downer all the way around. Oooo, he was going to love it.

  Forcing herself not to spin gravel, as though he didn’t have money enough to pave the drive, she eased out. Mental note, what was the deal on that? If he hated concrete, at least use asphalt.

  She stopped short of the gate, punched the remote’s double buttons, then jumped out. The package was right there, where the UPS guy said he’d leave it. Oooo, she could hardly wait. Yessir, she was about to make his day! It was going to be great.

  She spun a few rocks going back, but it didn’t matter. She’d found him a present, one he would love. Once inside, she marched straight to him and held out the little package. “I love you.”

  He took it. “I love you, too. What’s this?”

  “Well, duh! Open it and see.”

  Gij grabbed the butter knife, slit the tape at both ends and down the middle, then folded back the flaps. A ball rolled out. He looked at her a little confused.

  “Okay, you got me a baseball. Nice.” He kept nodding repeatedly. “Very nice. Thank you.”

  Her smile cut hard into her cheeks. He’d never seen her so giddy. “It came all the way from California.”

  “Really?” He pulled out the envelope from inside the box. “Humm, a Dodger’s ticket stub. Looks like a left field bleacher seat.”

  “Oh, you’re making me crazy! It’s your home run ball! I checked with the Dodgers’ front office, and they looked at the game video, and emailed me the guy’s picture who caught it. Everything matches! This is the real deal. Your first Major League homerun! Don’t you just love it?”

  He hadn’t even thought to run that ball down. “What’d you have to pay for it?”

  She wrinkled her nose then shook her head. “Well, I bought it with my own money. And somebody a lot bigger and a lot stronger couldn’t pry that bit of information from me. My lips are sealed.”

  He bet he could tickle it out of her, but then he couldn’t stand where that would lead. “Come on.” He headed upstairs holding out this prize, trying to find the exact spot where he’d hit it.

  Man, that swing felt so good. He stopped at his door and turned. “Special dispensation allowed for girls bearing homerun baseballs.”

  “Oh, so I don’t get to come back until you hit another one?”

  “Maybe.” He let her go in first. While she studied all the pictures of herself, he headed to his closet. “Hey, you, ball girl! Want to see where this baby’s going to live?”

  “Sure. You’re putting it in your closet?”

  He waited for her. Once she finished gawking at the size of his walk-in, he opened his trophy case that filled the far end. “Right here, next to the first one I hit at UT seems right. Remind me, and I’ll get a little brass plate for it.”

  “Oh, I should’ve thought of that.”

  “No, I love it.” He set the ball down, put the stub next to it then closed the glass door. “Thanks, Sweetheart. Pappaw was the one who saved this kind of stuff.” He tapped the glass over the first ball on the row. “That one there’s my first ever homerun. I was six.”

  For a second, he trotted those bases at the Blue Raider field in Fort Worth.

  Then it wasn’t him, it was his son who’d hit the homer. Oh man, that would be something, coaching his son or even his daughter, at that age; some of the girls were just as good as the boys.

  He glanced at her studying his memorabilia, and his heart swelled with love. How could he hold any more?

  Oh, Lord, how can I help her find You?

  The far away look in his eyes intrigued Sammi Dan. Was he reliving hitting that first home run? “Hey, want to share? Or is that a private movie you’re watching?”

  “No, I was thinking how much fun it would be to coach our kids. Pappaw said T-ball was the most powerful drug ever.”

  “Really? I would think coaching a bunch of little scallywags who don’t know how to play the game—like organizing earthworms. Boring maybe? Frustrating? But fun? I don’t see it.”

  “Just you wait.”

  Again, she wished she could have met his grandfather. He must have been some kind of man. Then a question she’d been wanting to ask raced to the end of her tongue and dove.

  “You told me the other day, that when you and him were having your girls-are-bad talk, you said he said it was all his fault about your mother? What did he mean by that? How could he think it was any his fault, much less all?”

  He leaned against the door jam. “The night my mammaw died, he was driving drunk.”

  “Oh, no! Poor man. So your mother blamed him?”

  “Yes, she did. He never drank again, but he also never got completely over it either—or her.” He lifted one shoulder. “I don’t think he ever even dated another lady.”

  “Really?”

  “Far as I know. He was in the hospital for months himself, five broken ribs, punctured his lungs. My G’ma, Pappaw’s mother—God rest her soul—sold the dairy, all but the house and five acres to pay for his hospital bills and her daughter-in-love’s funeral.”

  “Aw, taffy, that is so sweet.”

  His great-grandmother’s memory brought a smile. “That’s what she always called her in-laws.” He pursed his lips and shook his head. “I was seven when she died. She’d been the closet thing to a mother I’d ever had. Never missed one of my games.”

  Poor baby. He was breaking her heart, but she didn’t want to stop him. She wanted to hear all this. Knowing family history was good. “I’m so sorry; have you bought it all back?”

  “Almost all. Of our family’s original five hundred acres, there’s a hundred and thirteen that I only lease, but it’s back by the river, and I have first turn-down on it if it ever sells.”

  She touched two fingers to her lips then his. “I wish I could have known both of them, had a chance to tell them thank you for raising my Gij to be such a wonderful man.”

  “Watch it, girl. Don’t go making me out to be more than I am.”

  She pushed him out into his room. “And so humble.” She bumped her shoulder into his, but he didn’t let her knock him onto his bed. Shuck the cream style corn. “Why do we have to go in today? I thought Banister wanted everyone to stay away, rest up, get ready for the big bad A’s.”

  “Isn’t Jeff. Daniels asked for round two.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. You did want to go, too, didn’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, come on. I’ll cook you some more eggs.”

  “No, don’t. That way, I can eat more of your ribs tonig
ht.”

  CHAPTER

  twenty-four

  Just like every bridal dress shop, Sammi Dan and Gij left the General Manager’s office empty handed. How could he not sign? They’d upped their offer just as he figured they would, but no deal.

  The phenom just sat there acting like the man and his big fat check were nothing. But what could she say? Her man had promised, given his word, and that was that. In a strange way, that gave her the fuzziest warmth inside.

  Her own personal parade left the ballpark and headed home to get his ribs and her cake, then drove north through Irving to the home group meeting. She loved all the honks and waves aplenty on the way, but when he parked, he put the top up. “Why’d you do that?”

  “Chance of rain.”

  “Oh, I hadn’t heard. Doesn’t look like rain, does it? Anyway, we can put it back down on the way home, right?”

  “Maybe.” He grinned. “But I sure prefer slipping around incognito better.”

  As he punched the doorbell, she jabbed him in the ribs. “Not possible, honey bunny. We’re Gij and Sammi Dan. You’re just gonna have to deal with it.”

  The door opened before he said anything. The reception was even bigger than the previous week, and it seemed some new folks had come just to see him. Even before the host could bless the food, the place was wall to wall.

  In the end, it didn’t really matter. She loved it—the whole of it, everything about it. How could church be so much fun? Wasn’t it supposed to be boring?

  Attending those awful church services proved to God and the world that a person was willing to sacrifice her morning to learn about Him, right? Or that she was trying hard to be good and please Him?

  Except she had never really done that, certainly not on any regular basis.

  The few times her Aunt Rachel had dragged her to mass, she’d left not wanting more. But this home group meeting was so different, invigorating, and so downright cool.

  On purpose, she let him keep the top up on the way home, didn’t even mention it. “That Roberta lady’s husband apologized.”

  “I heard him, but right’s right. No-hitting a team you just pitched against isn’t easy.”

  “But you’re going to do it, right?”

  “Lord willing and the creek don’t rise.”

  “You going to throw that slider at ’em?”

  He glanced at her then back to the road. “I thought I would.”

  “While that lady was praying for you, I thought of something.” She looked off. It might have been one of those words from the Lord they talked about, but probably not. More than likely, it was just her own thinking.”

  “Okay, were you going to share here or what?”

  She looked back at him still deep in debate. “Well, what came to me—or what I thought—was that the Lord was giving you a career’s worth of good games all in one season, since that’s all you get.”

  “Interesting concept. Hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  “I think maybe that’s it.” She poked his leg, loved messing with him, touching him. “I also believe you’re going to do it. Seven and seven, just like Pappaw said.”

  “Have you checked the schedule? We’re running out of games.”

  “What does that matter? They’ll pitch you on no rest if that’s what it takes to win, and you know it. Especially if you let him in on the secret that you’re definitely not going to play next year no matter how much money they throw at us.”

  Looking away from the road, he wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I sure do like that ‘us’ part.”

  “So do I.”

  One more night, Gij went to bed alone, and with her right up the hall ready and waiting. But soon, real soon, she’d be his legally wedded wife. The Lord was making a way. The Holy Spirit moved all over her at the home group.

  How he hoped that would be her time to get saved. But for sure, God was making a way. He wouldn’t bring him this far and even put her in his life if Pappaw didn’t know what he was talking about.

  Trust in the Lord with your whole heart. Don’t lean to your own understanding. Good advice. So why did he have so much trouble following it? He always thought he knew best, always second guessing the Lord.

  Trying to make things happen, help God and His plans along. She shouldn’t be down the hall. He never should have asked her to park her car in his garage. What was he thinking?

  The Word says to abstain from all appearances of evil. What would those folks at the home group think if they knew she was living under the same roof with no chaperone? Just him and Samantha Danielle.

  What would her daddy think?

  What did Father God think?

  He had to marry her before he went bonkers. But he couldn’t until she got saved. Everything seemed to be going along smoothly enough, but he needed it all to hurry and didn’t know how to speed anything up.

  Should he ask her to move back out? How would she take it if he did? Or maybe April to move in? His chuckle boomed in the silence of his room. No way would she stand for that.

  Later that night, he found it. Then the next morning after breakfast, he showed her on his laptop. “What do you think?”

  “I love it. It’s beautiful, but ordering a dress online seems pretty risky, doesn’t it? What if it doesn’t fit?”

  “Well, isn’t like we can’t find a seamstress and have it altered. I mean if you like it. It’s got the crystals you love and the modest bodice I like. Isn’t that the kind of skirt you wanted?”

  “How much does it cost?”

  “Oh, so you can’t tell me what you paid for my ball, but I’m supposed to tell you what your dress cost?”

  “Of course. That’s how it works. Don’t you know anything? Wait. I guess you really don’t, do you? See, here’s how it works. The lady always gets what she wants.”

  He laughed, pulled her tight, and wrapped her in a bear hug. “Oh, I love you, Sweetheart, I do, but I’m not telling.”

  She snuggled in tighter. Her being next to him felt so right. He never wanted to let her go but if he didn’t…

  “Okay.” Her fingertip rubbed little circles on his chest, but she didn’t pull away. “How about a trade? We tell each other. You go first.”

  He squeezed her as hard as he dared then pushed her back. “Nope. Now leave me alone. I’ve got a dress to buy.”

  She reached for his laptop. “Give me that. You’ll get all my sizes wrong.”

  He took a step toward the patio, then stopped and handed it to her. She was right; he didn’t know what size to get. Finally, he’d found the gown he wanted her wearing when she walked down the aisle to become his.

  Modest, with a bit of lace and just the right puffs to the sleeves, and with all that intricate, fancy beadwork—all those crystals and pearls—no wonder it was so expensive, but that’s what she loved.

  He smiled. Didn’t need a woman growing up to teach him anything about letting girls have their way. Whatever Samantha Danielle wanted, besides him outside of marriage, she’d have. He’d see to it.

  “What? One hundred, fifteen thousand, three hundred forty-dollars? Gij, that’s ridiculous! No way am I going to let you order that. A dress I’ll only wear once? No, uh uh. I’m sorry, but we can do way better than that.”

  “Just do it, that’s the one I want you to have.”

  She glared at him for several beats of his heart. She was so cute when she had her mad on, but she softened.

  “Okay, but if we get it, you have to promise me that you’ll marry me again every five years on our anniversary, then all the little Sammi Dans can fall in love with it and wear it, too.”

  “I promise.”

  “And the boys’ brides—if they want to. That would be better, wouldn’t it? It’s so much money for a dress. Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. I love it, and I want you to have it.”

  “I love it, too. It’s so perfect. I can’t believe you found it.” She studied the screen several minutes and when she looked back
up, her eyes brimmed over with tears. “You’re too good to me, you know.”

  “Not true, that’s not possible. And yes, and I promise we can have as many weddings as you want, and all the Johnson brides are welcome to wear it, but they get to decide that kind of stuff for themselves. No pressure, promise?”

  “Cracker Jacks, Gij, I won’t have to pressure anyone. It’s the most beautiful dress in the whole world. My girls will have taste. They’ll want to wear it, every one of them.” She grinned and hugged herself. “How many do you think we’ll have?”

  “However many the Lord blesses us with. He had to agree about it being so beautiful, but he needed to shift gears, get his mind off her and onto business.

  The big bad A’s were in town.

  Sammi Dan could not believe it. It couldn’t be true. Mental note, have him explain to all of his superstitious teammates that her interviewing him mid-game during a no-hit bid was not going to jinx him.

  But, then if she did talk with him, and he gave up a hit—or Heaven forbid—a run, then she’d be banned from the stadium for life. Maybe even the state. Well, North Texas anyway.

  She smiled at the ridiculousness of it. He wasn’t going to give up a run. Pappaw had said. Seven and seven. And she had asked for a shutout and a no-hitter, and Roberta had written it down in her spiral prayer book.

  Done deal. She looked skyward. Right? Are you up there? Watching over him, helping him? How about putting some extra bite on that slider?

  Coco swung. The ball popped up right in front of home. Gij charged. No! No! It was going to fall! Carlos dove, stuck his glove out, and the old horse hide fell in.

  Game over.

  He’d done it, thrown a no-hitter just like she asked for.

  Pandemonium ruled.

  The crowd literally went wild, but nothing like the crazy she put on.

  Six starts, six wins. Four shutouts and two no-hitters! No way was this happening. Completely unbelievable? Yes, except that she’d seen every pitch, and the roller coaster ride wasn’t even half over. Seven and seven the old man had said. Seven no-hitters and seven shutouts.