Unexpected

by Karen Tuft

  He laughed. “Deal.”

  He checked his watch. The football game was in full swing. He needed to go so he could keep his promise to Brett. When he looked up, he saw that she was picking up each blob, checking to see if it was dry, and replacing it on the newspaper. Her head was lowered. So quickly she’d retreated away from him. Every other woman he knew would be hanging on his every word, urging him to stay, offering him food. Not Mrs. Forrester, oh, no. What was it with her, anyway? He’d felt a spark from her when they’d danced, not that it had meant anything, really. She was his housekeeper after all. Nothing would come from this. But the puzzle, the challenge—it was almost too tempting to ignore. He decided to kill two birds with one stone.

  “Listen—I’m on my way to watch Brett try to catch a couple of footballs for East High. Jackie and the family will be there. I think you should give the gift to Lexie yourself. Come along with me.” When she started to shake her head, he added casually, “I’m not planning to stay for the entire game; I have other plans later this evening. We’ll just go, watch a few plays, you can give Lexie her fairy, and then I’ll bring you home.” When she still seemed to hesitate, he said, “Come on. It will get your mind off the bitter disappointment of missing an evening of chick flicks and chocolate.”

  “Chick flicks and pizza. I never get over the need for chocolate. And thanks, but—”

  “Does that mean you’re not up for a wild night of high-school football? I know it’s not quite the same as a good old tear jerker. There isn’t as much kissing and crying at football games. Well, maybe the same amount of crying, at least for the losing team.” He waited a beat; as an attorney, he knew timing was everything. “Brett will appreciate it. And Lexie will be thrilled.”

  She looked wary. He should probably hope she told him no again. His family would blow this simple invitation way out of proportion, he knew, but he and Mrs. Forrester were only delivering a gift. It was an errand, nothing more. And if his family did blow it out of proportion, he’d simply set them straight.

  And the idea of getting Natalie Forrester to crack—just a little bit—was a challenge he couldn’t resist now. Maybe it was the hokey pokey T-shirt; maybe it was her proud refusal of money. Maybe the little orange fairy had cast some sort of crazy spell on him.

  He gave her his most charming summation-to-the-jury smile. “What do you say, Bob?”

  Her dimple faded briefly, then her smile seemed to overbrighten. “All right, I guess. I haven’t enjoyed a high-school football game in twenty years.”

  He thought her reply seemed cryptic, but he decided to keep his question to himself for the time being.

  * * *

  Natalie was shivering. In her thin leather jacket, her hands stuffed in the pockets, she could feel herself shake from the cold. To say she’d been shocked when Ross had invited her to the football game was an understatement. It always surprised her when a man invited her to do something—maybe that was why she was constantly caught off guard and then typically caved in. But this time, ironically, her inability to gracefully decline had put her in the worst possible place to be for her emotional well-being. It was daunting enough to be here with this impossibly attractive, intimidating man, but to be at a high-school football game? It was at a high-school football game that her road of regrets had begun. She wasn’t sure being here with Ross McConnell was the best way to face old ghosts.

  Teens screamed and yelled at football plays they didn’t understand and huddled and flirted in the deep shadows cast by the stadium lights. There was a rich smokiness in the crisp autumn air, laced with the scent of hotdogs and burning leaves. The pep band wailed off tune; the drums pounded out an upbeat tempo. Amid the shrill whistles and cheers, the music wove through the wind like the ghosts of her memories. She shook her head to clear it. This evening she had an opportunity to rise above memories and enjoy the moment, start fresh. Bury regrets.

  “Where do you think the rest of your family is sitting?” she asked. The bleachers were filled to capacity, and Natalie didn’t know how they would ever find them.

  Ross craned his neck to search the crowd. “Jackie usually likes to show up in time to get seats close to the fifty-yard line,” he said. “I can’t see her though. We’ll find a couple of seats for now and look for them at halftime.”

  Ross located a place near the end zone for them to sit, and Natalie followed. He’d lugged a couple of stadium blankets from the trunk of his car and folded one of them to cushion their seats; the other he handed to Natalie, which she wrapped around her legs.

  She glanced over at Ross. He was sitting casually, his forearms resting on his thighs, his jacket unzipped. Why don’t guys seem to feel the cold? she wondered. The occasional breeze that seemed to only ruffle his hair sent frigid spasms through Natalie. She flipped her jacket collar up to shield her neck. It was early November, and the temperature was in the forties, but Natalie, who generally liked cold weather, was a popsicle and hoped she survived. And if she was honest with herself, part of the shivering came from nerves and chilled memories, not just the nighttime breeze.

  She tried to concentrate on the game. It was the second quarter, and Brett had already caught a couple of short passes and taken one long bomb in for a touchdown just since they’d arrived. She watched Ross watching the game, quiet but intense, only yelling at the refs a couple of times. She still couldn’t believe she was here. She’d walked out of her house toward his amazing car, smelled that luxurious expensive leather upholstery smell, and had nearly bolted back into the house. She’d been struck speechless, but he’d managed to keep the conversation light and continuous and mainly one-sided, so she hadn’t felt too awkward. And now the aloof, aristocratic attorney Ross McConnell was sitting by her at a high-school football game. It was like she’d stepped into an alternate universe.

  In her safe little universe, she would be home watching a movie with Tori. Emma was at her school’s football game with Tess and Kate, and Callie was sleeping over at Gwen’s house. Natalie and Tori were supposed to be having a simple girls’ night. A nice, peaceful evening with a happily-ever-after movie. She wasn’t supposed to be at a high-school football game. She had learned twenty years ago that high-school football was bad for her health and happiness. And she definitely wasn’t supposed to be in the company of her boss, the most unnerving man she’d ever met.

  It was nearly halftime, and Natalie could swear the temperature had dropped another ten degrees just from the number of people leaving the stands to buy concessions. She hoped Ross had been caught up enough in the action and satisfied enough with her attempts at enthusiastic responses not to notice that she was turning blue.

  The whistle sounded, ending the first half. The drill team began marching out onto the field as the players jogged to the locker room.

  Ross turned to Natalie, grinning. “Brett’s playing great. When their safety flattened him at the fifteen, I thought they were going to have to scoop up what was left of him with a spoon.” He chuckled, then his brows came together. “You’re cold. I wish you’d told me. Do you want to move around a bit to get your blood pumping again, or would you like to shiver here bravely while I go get you a large hot chocolate?”

  “I think I’ll take a little stroll toward the ladies’ room, actually.”

  “Okay. When you get back, I’ll get you that chocolate you say you can’t live without. Then we’ll go find Lex and the rest of the family.”

  Walking felt good, even though Natalie’s joints were stiff from cold. She hoped the bathrooms were equipped with hot-air hand dryers. If she was really lucky, they would have the nozzles that rotated up so she could defrost her face.

  Maybe coming to the football game with Ross had been a good thing. He was being nice, the game had been action filled, and Natalie wasn’t looking at every player on the field and seeing Buck Jacobsen instead. At least, not so far.

  Then, as she headed toward the school building, she saw a couple pressed closely against the wall. The boy
was murmuring to the girl, who clung to him like a second skin, giggling. Natalie could guess what the boy was saying. She’d heard words like his at their age. The girl gazed at the boy worshipfully. Natalie knew that look too. She’d given that look to Aaron “Buck” Jacobsen at the Bear River High School football games twenty years ago. Before and after the games, at least. He’d been the star running back, nicknamed “Buck” for his style against the defense and his prowess on the rodeo circuit. And Natalie had worshipped him from afar.

  She had lost her mother during her junior year and, as a result, had lost her father to his grief. Lonely and hurting, Natalie had focused her dreams on the most amazing boy she’d ever seen. So when Buck asked her to dance at an after-game stomp early in the autumn of her senior year, her heart flew.

  The dance led to dates and lots of time spent in the cab of his rusty Dodge pickup. He made her feel wanted. He made her feel alive. She didn’t feel empty anymore.

  He whispered crazy love words to her against the school walls. He promised her everything would be okay. He told her he needed her. It was love, he said, and if she really loved him she would understand this. She would show him she loved him. Really show him. Something deep inside her quietly told her it was a huge risk, but when his urgent mouth was on hers, when he whispered words in her ear, the quiet voice inside got quieter and quieter until it disappeared.

  She relented. She gave him what he asked her for, pushed her for. In the end she wanted it too and gave it freely. She trusted him, loved him, or so she thought.

  The quiet voice returned though, dogging her mind with cautions, telling her to stop. She blocked it out and relished the joy of feeling like a part of something whole again. She gloried in the weight of his arm on her shoulder in the school hallways, the wink he would send her as she scurried off to class. And then the pregnancy showed her the true Buck and changed her life forever.

  As a result, Natalie had learned to doubt the reality of dreams at the age of seventeen. When a girl lost her mother at sixteen and her innocence and freedom at seventeen, there wasn’t a lot of room left for dreams. Even in an empty vessel.

  Natalie pulled herself back to the present as she dried her hands using the hot-air dryer. She punched the button again and crouched to let it warm her face. It was time to return to Ross, smile, and replace old memories with new ones. She vowed they would be happy ones this time.

  “You a little warmer now?” Ross asked as she slipped back into her seat next to him.

  Natalie thought she was until he smiled at her and shivers ran straight up her spine. It was just a reaction to all of those teenage pheromones permeating the air, she thought frantically. Let him think she was freezing; it was safer. He pulled off his jacket and threw it around her shoulders. It was big and warm and smelled of leather and aftershave and something that was distinctly Ross.

  “Now you’re going to get cold,” she managed to say with slightly chattering teeth.

  “Nah, I’ll be fine for a while. If the hot chocolate doesn’t do the trick, we’ll leave. I’ve seen enough of the game to give Brett a good report.” He turned and strode down the bleachers.

  Natalie gazed around her. The students looked young, fresh, and full of promise. The loudspeaker crackled with the booming voice of the announcer, who was highlighting upcoming school events over the din of noisy teenage activity. She glanced over to see Ross returning to the bleachers, a large steaming Styrofoam cup in each hand.

  “Here, drink up. It’s really hot though—don’t burn your tongue.”

  She held the cup close to her face and let the steam unthaw her nose. It smelled heavenly. “Mmm. Thank you.”

  “Mac! Hello!”

  Natalie looked up from her chocolaty cloud and saw Jackie striding up the bleachers toward them, Lexie in tow.

  “You made it. I’m glad,” Jackie said. She pointed toward the fifty-yard line. “Everyone is sitting over there. Brett will be thrilled you’re here. You did see that touchdown, right?” She smiled warmly at Natalie, obviously noting Ross’s jacket around her shoulders. “Nice to see you again, Natalie.” She glanced back at Ross.

  Ross gave his sister a quick hug. “We saw the touchdown. Watching Brett snag that ball out of midair was like watching the Bolshoi Ballet. It was art in motion. What’s the word on scholarships?”

  “He’s not sure he wants to play college ball, but he has so much ability. Rick and I keep telling him to go for it, just give it a try, but he’s resistant. He’s so intent on law school, and he thinks football will distract him. He remembers what you said about your football—”

  “Football? You played football?” Natalie looked up suddenly from settling Lexie on her lap.

  Ross shrugged. “I was quarterback. It was a great way to go through high school, but I’d already decided I was heading to law school, and I didn’t want to be sidetracked.”

  “And Brett is determined to be just like you, you know. I wish you’d explain to him that he has options, that he doesn’t have to mimic you.”

  “I’ll talk to him if you want me too, Jack. But ultimately, you have to let him follow his own path.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “Do you like football, Natalie?”

  “She must.” Ross grinned. “She knows the game quite well.”

  Natalie was surprised that he’d paid attention to her occasional comments. “I’m not what you would call a huge fan, but I understand the basic rules.”

  “And she agreed to come with me tonight regardless of her disinterest in the game. Can you believe it?”

  Natalie couldn’t let that one stand. Patting Lexie on the shoulder, she said, “It had more to do with Lexie than football or you. Lexie, I have a gift for you.” She reached into her purse and gave the little brown bag to her.

  “What is it?” Lexie asked, wide-eyed.

  “Open it and see.” Before she could even finish, Lexie had torn the bag open and was holding the orange fairy reverently in her tiny hands. “Mama, look!”

  Jackie held the fairy up out of the shadows cast by the stadium lights. “Oh my. It’s darling! Where did you find it?”

  Lexie tugged Natalie’s sleeve. “Is it her?”

  “Yes. It’s Princess Pumpkinseed.” Natalie tucked an errant blonde curl behind Lexie’s ear. “She’s fragile though. You have to be extremely careful with fairies. They get their feelings hurt very easily.”

  “Natalie made it,” Ross told Jackie. “I have a Santa in the car.”

  Jackie’s eyes widened. “She gave you a Santa?”

  He grinned. “Only after I twisted her arm.”

  After freezing all evening long, Natalie could now feel heat flooding her cheeks.

  Jackie looked like she wanted to question Ross further, but the cheering crowd announced the return of the teams onto the field. “Come on, Lex. Let’s go back to Daddy and the kids.”

  Natalie saw Ross glance at his watch. They’d accomplished their task, and she remembered he’d said he had plans later.

  Just then, Lexie threw her arms around Natalie’s neck. “I want to stay with Bob. Please, Mama, can I stay with Bob for just a little while?”

  “Bob?” Jackie said.

  “Long story. Don’t ask,” Ross replied.

  Natalie tried to ignore him, squeezed Lexie, and said, “We’re leaving now, so maybe another time, okay?”

  Lexie’s vise-like grip around her neck only tightened, and Natalie glanced at the others for help. She couldn’t read the expression on Ross’s face. He glanced at his watch again.

  Big killer eyes used to getting their way turned their lethal charm on Ross. “Just for one minute, Uncle Mackie?”

  The corner of one side of his mouth curved slightly. “One minute. And that’s all.”

  Jackie gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “We’re sitting right over there. Bring her back when you’re ready to go. I’ll take the fairy princess with me, Lex.”

  One minute turned into a bag of popcorn, several sips
from Natalie’s now-lukewarm chocolate, and a mildly successful attempt from the crowd to do the wave. Natalie rose in her seat, hoisting Lexie in the air while Lexie stretched her arms up and squealed. Ross sat, and only when Lexie scolded him did he make a halfhearted attempt to raise an arm when the wave went by again.

  By the end of the third quarter, Natalie could tell Ross had removed himself to someplace unreachable. She nudged his arm gently. “We can go.”

  He shrugged. “Fine.”

  They returned Lexie to her parents and headed toward the parking lot and his car.

  * * *

  Natalie reread the paragraph she’d just finished, then closed her book when she realized she still didn’t know what it said. She’d been sitting in her living room, waiting for Emma to return home for quite a while now. It was past her curfew, and she hadn’t answered any of Natalie’s calls or texts.

  Ross had dropped Natalie off a few hours ago from the football game. She’d spent the rest of the evening painting Santas, until Emma’s curfew had come and gone. Then she had cleaned up her paints and taken a sentry position in the living room, where she could see the front door when Emma finally walked in.

  Her daughter wasn’t late very often, and she usually sent Natalie a text to let her know what was up and when to expect her. It hadn’t happened this time, and after all the teenage regrets Natalie had been reminded of earlier tonight, she’d automatically gone into worry mode.

  The door opened. Thank goodness.

  “You’re late,” Natalie said.

  “I know. I’m sorry,” Emma said, shutting and locking the door.

  “And . . . ?”

  No response.

  “Why didn’t you answer my texts or phone calls?” Natalie asked her, trying to control the edge in her voice.

  Emma gave her a confused look and tugged her cell out of her pocket. Her face cleared. “Oh. It looks like I forgot to take it off of silent mode when I got out of class. Sorry.”

  Seriously, why was she paying for her daughters to have cell phones if it wasn’t going to make her parenting job any easier? “Emma, come on. If you knew you were late, then you also knew I’d want to know what was going on.”