“In the ice and snow? That’s five miles.” But it was the kind of thing the Ross girls would do.
“I’ve never been so cold in my life. One of the guys who came along finally built a campfire. We thought the smoke signals would bring out the fire department so we wouldn’t have to walk back, but no such luck.”
Davis nodded. “Remember that ice storm back in high school? Now that was cold.”
“I remember. They called off school because the buses couldn’t run, but those of us who lived in town were already there. Jack Macabee slid his VW off in a ditch and all of us piled out and lifted it back onto the road.”
“I heard about that. You were in that car?”
She laughed again, stronger this time, and he could tell it was a good memory. “We must have had ten kids in that little Bug. All the boys thought they were strong enough to lift it out and Jack feared his dad would take his keys if anything happened to his car, so we got him going again. We slipped and fell, pushed and lifted, and laughed so hard.” She leaned an elbow on the faded old countertop. “Whatever happened to Jack anyway? Did he take over his dad’s car dealership?”
“No, Harvey closed the dealership when business disappeared to the bigger cities, but he still sells used cars on the side. Jack’s a pumpkin farmer. You missed the Pumpkin Fest by only a couple of weeks. He was there in full force.”
“Really? Pumpkins? I can’t imagine preppy Jack in the agriculture business.”
“It’s kind of interesting to look at who we were then and where we are now. Life has a way of changing us.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” She’d gone pensive on him, bottom lip between her teeth, gaze somewhere in the distance. “I wouldn’t want Sydney to be anything like I was.”
“Aw, come on. Teenagers are goofy. You weren’t so bad.”
This time her laugh was harsh and disbelieving. “You always were the nicest guy. With an apparently faulty memory.” She motioned toward the paper in his hand. “So what do you think? Any ideas for me?”
She was shutting off the conversation, unwilling to talk about herself anymore, but for a moment he’d glimpsed the young girl. He’d seen some things in her expression that surprised him. Hurt. Regret. Sadness.
Lana intrigued him. She also attracted him. He hadn’t quite figured out why, other than his natural propensity toward the underdog and his sister’s nosiness.
Troubled, he turned his attention to the list, though he was more aware of Lana Ross than he wanted to be. Her soft perfume played hide-and-seek in the narrow space. One minute, he caught the scent. The next it was gone.
He swallowed, bothered to be thinking about her, not as a neighbor in need as he’d told his sister but as a beautiful, interesting woman an arm’s length away.
He cleared his throat. “You’ll be putting in a lot of hours to do all this by yourself.”
“I don’t mind work as long as I can squeeze it in between my job.”
The comment caught him off guard. He hadn’t realized she had a job already. “Where are you working?”
“The Gazette.” She glanced to one side, self-conscious and hitched a shoulder. “It’s nothing big. A stringer position writing up local events. I get paid per article beginning tomorrow night.”
“The football play-offs?”
Lana tilted her head. “How did you know?”
“Woman, the state play-offs are the biggest thing to hit the Whisper Falls Warriors in five years. Didn’t you notice the signs plastered in all the businesses and the cars with Take State written on their back windows with shoe polish?”
“I guess you’re right. Football fever has taken over and I don’t even have a Warrior sweatshirt anymore.”
“You’ll have to remedy that.”
“I will, but I’ve got bigger problems to worry about tomorrow night.”
“What’s that?”
“My boss, Mr. Kendle, wants an article filled with names. I don’t know any of those kids. I might remember their parents, but not the kids.”
“Easy fix. Get a spotter.”
“A spotter?”
“That’s what the announcers in the press box do. Someone sits up there with them and spots the numbers. They match the number to the program list and the problem is solved. The player gets recognized and everyone is happy.”
“Perfect idea, but who? I’m still getting reacquainted.”
“Well, let’s see.” He rubbed his chin, holding back the easy answer for two beats before saying, “How about me?”
Lana blinked, incredulous. “You?”
“Why not me?”
“Well, I, uh, I—” Rosy-red crested her cheekbones.
Davis lifted both hands. The paper crinkled, so he put it on the table. “Hey, if that doesn’t work for you, I’m okay with it.”
“No, no, I would love for you to be the one.” The blush deepened, a pretty sight on pale pink cheeks. “What I meant is, I don’t want to impose. You’ve been so nice already.”
“I haven’t done anything, Lana. I’m going to the game anyway. If you want help, I’m in. If you’d prefer someone else, fine.”
“I want you. There is no one else.”
He didn’t want to like the sound of that. “I’m expensive. You’ll have to buy the popcorn.”
“Deal. I might even throw in a bowl of chili.”
Davis tossed the list onto the table and rubbed his hands together. “Chili, popcorn and the state play-offs right here in my own backyard. Gotta love it.”
“I remember when you played.”
“You do?”
“I sang the national anthem at every game from the time I was twelve. I was always there.” She pulled the headband from her hair and smoothed the stray wisps, reminding him of Nathan’s fixation on brown hair. “What was your number?”
“Twenty-eight. Running back.”
Lana twirled the stretchy band in her fingers, playing with it. “You were awesome.”
“So were you.”
“Thanks.”
Before he could pursue the titillating line of conversation, footsteps sounded on the stairs. Exchanging smiles, they both turned toward the doorway as three breathless, beaming children came running.
“How are things going, Dad?” Nathan’s bright eyes moved back and forth between Davis and Lana. “Do you like her yet?”
Paige grabbed her brother’s arm. “Nathan!” To Davis, she said, “Sorry, Dad. He’s such a kid sometimes.”
Davis exchanged a half chagrined, half amused glance with Lana. Her face was pink again, but her eyes gleamed as though she was holding back a laugh.
To the kids, he said, “Head for the truck, you two. We’ve got to go.”
As soon as they disappeared, with Sydney trailing along, he said, “I apologize for my irrepressible son. I’ll have a talk with him. As you might have guessed, he likes you.”
Davis didn’t add the rest—that her brown hair had made her the target of his children’s Christmas matchmaking prayer. He wasn’t sure he could handle the embarrassment or the uncomfortable yearning they’d ignited in him. A yearning he’d thought would never return after Cheryl’s death. A desire he was, this moment, battling down like a bad cold.
If his sister could read his mind, she’d have him committed. He wondered what she’d say Friday night when she spotted him in the stands with Lana and Sydney at his side?
Chapter Six
Lana was sure she felt stares and caught a few double takes as she and Sydney passed through the gate at Warrior Field and stood behind the blue-and-gold streamer-laden goalposts soaking up the ambience of small-town football. She took a minute to look around, identifying familiar faces, scoping out the changes as well as the things that had remained the same.
Already in the stands, an overzealous drummer pounded a rhythm while the band warmed up. Flutes squeaked and tubas oomphed. On the grassy field, fresh-faced boys in shoulder pads went through their pregame warm-up ritual. Number seventeen c
alled out drills that had the players falling to the ground and popping up to high-step in place a few seconds and then start the drill all over again. They counted out in a raspy chorus of adolescent male voices.
The stands were filling rapidly. Dozens of people filed through the gate while buttery popcorn permeated the air with its alluring scent.
Lana shaded her eyes from the glare of the tall bright lights, searching for Davis. “Do you see Paige and Nathan yet?”
Sydney, giddy with excitement but clueless about football, shook her head. “Not yet.”
“Hello, Lana.”
Lana turned to see a familiar face. “Jack?”
Jack Macabee hadn’t changed much other than some lines around his eyes. He still wore his golden-blond hair a little long and his eyes were still as green as grass. Tall, thin and lanky, he’d been a good basketball player. Tonight, he wore his high school letter jacket, as did many alumni, and it still fit him as well as it had thirteen years ago.
“I heard you were back,” he said. “How’s it going?”
“So far so good.” Lana felt her shoulders relaxing. Just having a friendly face to talk to helped ease the strain of being in a new situation. She and Jack had gotten along pretty well way back when. “Davis Turner and I were talking about you the other day. He said you’re a farmer now.”
“Chief supplier to the pumpkin cannery,” he said.
“That’s great.”
After that she wasn’t sure what to say so they stood in silence until he asked, “Is this your little girl?”
“This is Sydney,” she answered with a smile of agreement. “Do you have kids?”
“One. Ryan. He’s ten. Since the divorce he lives with his mother in Fayetteville so I don’t see him as much as I’d like. I get him every other weekend.”
“That must be tough.”
A look of resignation flashed. “You adjust to what you have to.”
She certainly understood that and was about to say so when a hand wrapped around her upper arm.
A masculine voice muttered, “You got here first.”
“Davis!”
The two men exchanged handshakes and began to talk about the Warriors’ chances against their mighty rivals, the Longview Lions. After a brief conversation, Davis motioned toward the stands. “If we want a good spot, we’d better get up there. Want to join us, Jack?”
“Sounds good.” He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets, an action that made him look like the youthful athlete she remembered. “Sure you don’t mind?”
“Not a bit. Right, Lana?”
“Absolutely.” She turned a genuine smile on Jack. Having another person along besides Davis’s matchmaking kids provided more buffer and made her life easier. “The more the merrier as far as I’m concerned. It will be great to catch up again.”
“I appreciate it. Since the divorce, I feel like the odd man out.”
“I’m with you there,” Davis said. “Being single again is awkward at times.”
As they started forward, lost in manly conversation about offenses and defenses, Lana held back for a moment, thinking. The men were similar in many ways, though Jack’s hair was more blond than sandy brown and he was much taller and thinner than Davis. It occurred to Lana that they had their bachelor status in common, as well. She’d never considered that a man who’d lost his wife, whether through death or divorce, might feel as much an outsider as she did.
Pondering this, she hoisted her writing tablet and shoulder bag and hurried to catch up. As the group moved down the sidelines and up the stairs into the bleachers, Lana occasionally heard her name in murmurs and whispers. Heat crept up the back of her neck, but she tried not to react. She’d expected gossip. This was, after all, a very small town. Everyone was fodder for gossip, especially the returned bad egg.
Suddenly, an older woman with a tight, salt-and-pepper corkscrew perm and a warm, bustling personality pushed up from a blue portable seat cushion boldly marked with a Warrior emblem.
“Lana Ross. Honey, is that you?” Clad in an oversize blue-and-gold Warriors jacket with matching earmuffs, Miss Evelyn Parsons waved a pom-pom on a stick directly at Lana. Of all the people in Whisper Falls, Miss Evelyn was one of the handful who never confused Lana with her sister. Though the twins were not identical, most folks didn’t pay close enough attention to “those Ross girls” to notice the subtle differences.
“Miss Evelyn.” Delighted, Lana stopped and accepted the hug, warmed by the best greeting she’d received so far. The Parsonses had always been kind, even after Tess had shoplifted from their snack shop.
“They tell me you’re back and that you have the most adorable little girl.” Miss Evelyn’s gaze landed on the curious-faced child next to Lana. “This must be Sydney.”
No surprise that Miss Evelyn, who made it her business to know everything possible about Whisper Falls and its citizens, had been informed not only of Lana’s return but of her status as a parent.
“This is my darling girl.” Lana touched Sydney’s shoulder. “Say hello to Miss Evelyn, the matriarch of Whisper Falls. She practically runs the whole town.”
“Especially me,” said a portly man with white hair and handlebar mustache and a jolly chuckle. In his striped overalls and engineer’s cap, Miss Evelyn’s husband was a throwback to an earlier time, and he hadn’t changed a bit since Lana had last seen him.
Lana smiled. “This gentleman is Uncle Digger. And before you ask, no, he’s not your blood uncle.”
“But he’s everyone’s uncle just the same,” Miss Evelyn said, patting her round, Santa-looking husband on the shoulder.
Sydney smiled her shy hello at both adults. “Hi,” she said in a tiny, breathy voice.
“Lana, she is a darling.” Miss Evelyn beamed at Sydney. “You come by the Iron Horse sometime soon and see me, okay? Do you like ice cream?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, doesn’t she have lovely manners!” Miss Evelyn wiggled the pom-pom over Sydney’s head like a wand, making Sydney hunch her shoulders in a cute giggle. “I think Uncle Digger and I have a special treat with your name on it.”
“Thank you, Miss Evelyn,” Lana said, touched by more than the gesture to Sydney. It felt good to be greeted as an old friend. Even if she wasn’t one.
Miss Evelyn winked. “You come see me, too. We’ll catch up.”
A male voice came over the PA then to make announcements, and Miss Evelyn shook her pom-pom again and yelled, “Go Warriors!”
Smiling, feeling positive and not really caring that others around them in the crowded stands had been watching with interest, she nodded and started the climb toward a spot in the third row where Davis and his kids had already settled with Jack.
Davis patted the space he’d saved. “Sit fast before someone grabs it.”
A tap on the shoulder turned her around. She recognized the dark-skinned man immediately. “Creed Carter. Hello.”
“I thought that was you, Lana. How’s it going? When are we going to hear you on the radio?”
She figured she’d hear that question for a long time. “Never, I’m afraid. Nashville didn’t work out.”
“Their loss. Our gain.” Rather than pursue the topic, he motioned to the woman and child beside him. “This is my wife, Haley, and our baby, Rose. Haley, meet Lana Ross. We attended high school together.”
Easy as that, he introduced them. No references to her wilder side or any crazy stories from her past.
The two women exchanged greetings. Haley had an artsy, natural quality about her that Lana found interesting. Fair-skinned with no makeup, she wore her shoulder-length auburn hair loose with a silk flower pinned above one ear. The bouncy, apple-cheeked baby had olive skin and dark hair like her father with bright button eyes and a happy, alert expression. Lana liked them both instantly.
With an inward sigh of relief, Lana thought things were going very well. Maybe she’d misjudged Whisper Falls. Sure, a few people whispered and stared, but maybe t
he adjustment wouldn’t be so difficult after all.
The PA announcer asked everyone to stand for the national anthem and the capacity crowd grew quiet. Ball caps were ripped from heads and held over hearts. Mothers shushed their children. Football players stood at attention, sweat already gleaming on their young faces.
Lana was always amazed at how, even in a large stadium, silence could shimmer through the autumn air like a cold front while the band played the dignified, rousing tune. As the music reached the crescendo, cymbals crashed. Goose bumps prickled Lana’s arms. An undeniable longing to sing rose up to clog her throat. A longing she would never again see fulfilled.
* * *
By the end of the first quarter, Davis had memorized the main players and numbers, and he suspected Lana had too—at least on the Warriors’ team. She was smart, jotting notes in her spiral notebook, noting specific plays, asking astute questions about the game as she scribbled away.
She was also smart enough to know she had drawn plenty of stares and whispers since their arrival. Only a handful of people had greeted her but plenty had stared outright as they’d passed. Maybe he was being oversensitive after Jenny’s remarks, but their behavior put him on the defensive. He thought they were being ridiculous. Time passed. People changed. Get over it. Maybe they were just curious about the newcomer, the woman who’d gone to Nashville to be a star and come home again with a daughter.
Whichever, he was glad they’d sat together. She’d made him and Jack laugh more than once and she was kind to his kids—Nathan, in particular, who repeatedly found reasons to stand in front of her and ask eight-year-old questions. She’d been patient to the extreme even when she’d missed seeing a quarterback sack and worse, when she’d missed a touchdown.
“Nathan,” he said. “Sit next to me.” He patted the side opposite Lana.
“That’s okay, Daddy. I don’t mind standing up.”
“You’re blocking Lana’s view.”
Nathan flashed worried eyes to Lana. “I am?”
Lana opened her mouth to speak but appeared to reconsider before saying, “I like your company, Nathan.”
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