White Picket Fences

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “Just be careful,” she said now, slowly. “In a place like Shelter Valley, being seen with anyone more than once will start all the tongues wagging. Everyone will be watching you. Especially since we’re talking about Randi Parsons here.”

  “Why especially Randi?” he asked curiously. He wasn’t afraid of gossips. They could talk all they wanted, weave whatever fantasies they chose, but no fantasy was going to change reality. There was nothing going on between him and Randi.

  “Because she’s the town darling, of course,” Cassie said, as though the answer was obvious.

  “Because she was a professional golfer?”

  “That had something to do with it, sure. She made it big, and that gets attention in a small town like this.”

  Zack frowned. “You’ve made it big, too, Cass. And a lot of the professors at Montford are very well-known in their fields.”

  Cassie grinned at him over her shoulder. “We’ve got our share of brains, that’s true, but how could we help it with one of the country’s leading colleges in our backyard?” She turned back to stroke the oversize dog, guiding her gently into consciousness.

  They had trained people working for them who usually did recovery detail, but Muffy was special. She belonged to Cassie’s former in-laws. The Montfords were direct descendents of the family who’d originally settled Shelter Valley. The Montfords had left Shelter Valley almost two years ago and had only returned this past Christmas. Until two months before, Muffy had been on an extended vacation in Europe with her owners.

  “Anyway, it isn’t just the golf thing that makes Randi special, or even the wonders she’s managed to bring to the women’s sports program at Montford. It’s really Randi herself. Everyone loves her.”

  Zack could understand that. Love was a little strong perhaps, but he could see how someone would have a hard time not liking Randi.

  “You should have seen her when we were kids,” Cassie said, smiling as she continued to stroke the dog. “She’d trot along after those four big brothers of hers, completely certain that she was their equal. Had them all doing her bidding.”

  Muffy sighed and Cassie froze, waiting, Zack knew, to make sure the longer-than-normal breath wasn’t the dog’s last.

  He relaxed his tense muscles when Muffy’s chest rose and fell again.

  “She might have been a tomboy,” Cassie continued as though they hadn’t just had a scare. “But the way those guys treated her, there was no doubt she was a princess.”

  “So how come the two of you never hung out together?”

  Cassie shrugged. “I wore dresses and played hop-scotch with the other girls at recess. Randi played baseball with the boys.”

  He could picture it easily.

  “Quit grinning,” Cassie said. “She whomped them all.”

  “Good for her.”

  “Be careful, Zack.”

  Arms folded, Zack crossed one leg over the other. “I told you, there’s nothing going on between us.”

  She didn’t look convinced, but turned back to Muffy. “I would’ve liked to know Randi better,” she said. “It always seemed like she’d be so much fun. But by the time we got into junior high, she was training pretty seriously. And I’d met Sam.”

  “That young?”

  “Younger, really, but by junior high we were inseparable.”

  He’d had no idea they’d been together that long.

  “Didn’t you ever date anyone else?”

  She shook her head, eyelids lowered as she focused on the dog. Zack wondered for a second if she was hiding tears.

  “We tried,” she said softly. “When we were in high school, the youth minister at the church asked us to spend some time with other kids. He said that either we’d find out we weren’t meant to be together, or we’d be more committed than ever. Said it could only strengthen our relationship if we found out there truly wasn’t something—or someone—else for us.”

  “So you went out with different kids?”

  “Yeah, but we still couldn’t think about anyone but each other. And yes, it did strengthen our relationship.”

  She slipped a finger under her eye. Damn. He’d been right about the tears.

  “Or at least I thought it did,” she finished.

  What remained of Zack’s faith in marriage took a nosedive. If two people who’d been together as long as Cassie and Sam before tying the knot, whose lives and hearts were that intertwined, couldn’t make a go of it, there were no guarantees anywhere.

  No way to ensure you didn’t make the same mistake twice. Live through the same agony twice.

  Except never to try it again.

  “You ever think about remarrying?” he asked, his voice low.

  Cassie shook her head, still gazing down at Muffy. “Doesn’t seem to be much point.”

  Muffy’s eyes, opening slowly, looked glazed. Which was to be expected. Except that Muffy’s were rolling up into her head. Zack joined Cassie at the table, listening to the dog’s heart.

  “It’s a bit fainter than I’d like, but steady,” he told her.

  They worked together for a few more minutes, adjusting Muffy’s IV, making the dog as comfortable as possible.

  “Sam and I bought her,” Cassie said, giving up on hiding her tears as one dripped off the end of her nose onto the rounded side of the dog’s belly.

  “She was yours?”

  “No.” Cassie petted the dog softly, long strokes from the top of her head to her hip and back again.

  “Sam’s mom just seemed so sad after he left home. He was their only child—a big part of their lives. We figured Muffy would help fill the gap.”

  “Pet therapy even back then, huh?”

  Cassie’s grin was watery, but it was there. “Yeah, I guess,” she said. “Not that I had any idea what I was doing.”

  “Or maybe you did,” Zack said. “You just didn’t know it yet.”

  Muffy continued to hold on, and another hour slipped by. The dog’s eyes were staying open—even focusing a little.

  “We might win this one, Cass,” Zack said after checking the spaniel’s vitals one more time.

  A few more tears escaped as she stood with the dog’s head in her hands. “Thank you.”

  “Hey,” he said, knocking her lightly on the shoulder. “You did most of the work.”

  “Standing around supervising isn’t work.”

  “No, but it was the love that saved her. Pet therapy works both ways, you know.”

  She nodded, still tending to the dog, but he could see her slowly relaxing. So much of who Cassie was she kept hidden inside. Zack ached for her.

  It was a damn good thing Sam Montford hadn’t bothered to show his face in his hometown last summer for the dedication of his great-grandfather’s—and namesake’s—statue. Zack would’ve had to kill the man for what he’d done to Cassie.

  Surely robbing a woman of her soul was punishable by death.

  “I know you’re not taking me seriously about Randi,” Cassie said a few minutes later when it was obvious that Muffy had made it through the danger zone and Zack was preparing to leave. “But please be careful, Zack. You don’t know this town like I do. You hurt her and they’ll never forgive you.”

  “I’m not going to hurt her.”

  He wasn’t going to do anything to her.

  Except beat her the next time they raced.

  SHE’D GONE to her alumni. They’d given her all the money they had available until their next fund-raising event, a black-tie affair that was scheduled for September—far too late for Randi to sign Susan Farley.

  Her community-allotted funds had already been spoken for. The track team got new uniforms. The volleyball and softball coaches needed new equipment.

  And she’d just gone to the dean of students for a raise for her coaches. They were still making less money than Montford’s men’s coaches and they shouldn’t be.

  Where in hell was she going to find the money to offer Susan Farley the kind of scholarship that
could compete with what the girl would get elsewhere?

  Randi had a Montford education to offer. Which, in itself, carried a lot of weight. But only to someone who needed it. If Susan was as good as Brad said—and Randi knew she was just because Brad said so—then the girl was probably looking to turn pro. A school that could offer her hope in that direction would ultimately mean more to Susan than a highly acclaimed academic degree.

  “Excuse me, Coach Parsons?”

  Randi was on the floor of her office, stretching. Thinking. “Yes?” she said to the softball player hovering in her office doorway.

  “I’m Jan Walters. Coach Randall said you wanted to see me.”

  Coach Lauren Randall was Montford’s head softball coach.

  “Yes.” Randi stood up. “Come in, Jan.”

  Damn. She’d been hoping for another day or two before she had to tackle this one. More accurately, she’d been hoping the problem would disappear before it even got to her.

  “Have a seat,” Randi told the husky girl shifting nervously from foot to foot just inside the office.

  Waiting until the girl chose a chair in front of her desk, Randi closed the office door. Jan watched as Randi took her own seat.

  Randi did a lot of tough things in the course of her job. Welcomed most of the challenges, thrived on many of them. This was one challenge she could do without.

  “I don’t know what this is about, Coach Parsons, but if it has to do with my scholarship, I’ll do whatever it takes. I can’t lose that money. I’d have to leave Montford for sure.”

  “You’re a junior, right?” Randi asked, buying time. Hoping for some kind of divine revelation to enter her body and come out her mouth.

  “Right.”

  “You’ve been on scholarship all three years?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the young woman said, blond ponytail bobbing as she nodded her head with extra emphasis. She was also chewing her lips.

  “How are your grades?”

  “Better than they ever were in high school.”

  “C’s and above?”

  “B’s and above.”

  Jan was obviously uncomfortable, but she was meeting Randi’s gaze head-on. Randi liked that.

  Which made the upcoming interview even more difficult.

  “You have no idea why Coach Randall sent you to me?” Randi asked.

  Jan shook her head. “No, ma’am.”

  Damn Lauren and her chicken-shit delegating to higher authorities.

  And why did I ever think it would be cool to be a higher authority?

  “There’ve been some complaints filed against you, Jan. Enough of them to warrant this meeting.”

  “Complaints?” The young woman sat forward, her muscular arms resting on the arms of the chair.

  “From who?”

  “Your teammates.”

  Jan’s eyes grew wide. “I’ve never missed a practice,” she said. “The season’s only beginning, but I’ve scored a couple of runs already. Made some good plays. I’m not letting the team down.”

  “The complaints have nothing to do with your performance on the field.”

  “Oh.” Jan bowed her head.

  Well, Randi thought, taking a deep breath. At least they were finally talking about the same thing.

  “Have you read your student handbook, Jan?” Randi asked gently.

  “Not lately.”

  “You do realize that sexual harassment can be cause for expulsion from the university, don’t you?”

  “I haven’t harassed anyone!”

  “Not really, no,” Randi allowed.

  “When they say they aren’t interested, I leave them be.”

  “I know, and that’s why I’m talking to you, rather than kicking you off the team.”

  More than anything, Randi hated this. Hated dealing with something she didn’t really understand.

  She knew the facts. She’d been around people like Jan her entire life. She made her decisions about them on an individual basis; she didn’t like or dislike people because of their sexual preferences. She liked them because of who they were, not what they were. She didn’t particularly understand Barbara Sharp’s interest in women, for example, but she didn’t judge her, either. She just hated having to poke her nose into other people’s intimate lives.

  “The thing is, Jan, you’ve approached so many of your teammates they’re all feeling skittish. They don’t want to be around you, don’t want to have you in the locker room with them.”

  Head still bowed, Jan didn’t say a word.

  “Everyone you haven’t approached is afraid she’ll be next.”

  “I’m not the only gay woman on the team,” Jan said, finally looking up, defensiveness written all over her face.

  “Probably not. But you’re the only one looking to your teammates for a relationship.”

  She threw up her hands. “So where’m I supposed to look?”

  Oh, God. How did she know?

  “Aren’t there clubs out there? Places you can go to meet other women?”

  Jan’s gaze pinned Randi. “Would you go to a bar to meet a man?”

  “No.” And then, “How about the Internet?”

  Jan just shrugged.

  “I’m sorry I’m not equipped to help you with this one, Jan,” Randi finally said. She was still sitting primly at her desk, hands folded on top of it. But she was slowly flexing and pointing her feet under her desk. Wishing she could be straightening the laces on her pristine white running shoes. “But I do know that if you don’t stop hitting on your teammates, I’ll have to suspend you from the team. This is the only warning you’re going to get.”

  Jan nodded, stood up. “I understand,” she said, her mouth turned down with dejection. “Thanks for not canning me right off the bat.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Randi stood, too, reaching out to shake Jan’s hand. “You just go out there and do what you’re here to do. Make me proud and win me some games.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jan said, smiling as she took Randi’s hand. “Hey, you wouldn’t be interested in an after-game drink, would you?” she asked. “To celebrate that win?”

  “Jan—”

  “Just kidding, Coach,” Jan said, grinning openly. “You’re way too old for me.”

  “Beat it,” Randi said, shooing the girl out of her office with a grin.

  But the grin faded as soon as Jan had left. Even as a joke, it wasn’t the first time she’d been hit on. But she hated it as much now as she had the first time it had happened. Hated that just because she was a talented athlete and wore her hair short, people assumed she might be a lesbian. That they could stereotype her that way, could assume things about her.

  She knew reactions like those had been part of the reason she’d been asked out so rarely by men. Some didn’t think she’d be interested. Or weren’t interested in her because of assumptions they’d made. Some were just plain intimidated by her.

  And then there was Zack….

  She wanted to go home and call her mom. Or one of her brothers.

  She wanted to feel like the princess they’d always taught her she could be.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE WHOLE IDEA came about while they were skating. It was a Wednesday evening. The streets were deserted, and Randi and Zack had been talking about movies they’d seen.

  There was a new Tom Cruise movie out in the theaters. Randi thought it was going to be great. Zack was pretty sure it wasn’t.

  “Let’s just go see it and settle this once and for all,” Zack finally said. They were approaching Randi’s house—always their starting point—and because he was going so fast, he swerved in front of her to go up the curve onto her driveway. “You left your lights on again.”

  She followed right behind, pulling her front-door key out of her pocket. “I always leave my lights on. I told you that. And I’ll go only if you promise to buy me a burger if I’m right.”

  “Let me get this straight,” he said, follo
wing her into her foyer where he’d left his shoes. “If I like the movie, I have to buy you dinner.”

  “Just burgers. Take-out. Greasy and bad and nowhere to be had in Shelter Valley.”

  “Greasy and bad, huh? You’re living dangerously, Coach Parsons.”

  “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do,” Randi said, bending down to unfasten her skates.

  He’d already removed his. “You’re on.”

  The movie was good. The burgers were even better. Spending the entire evening with Zack was best of all.

  Randi decided having a friend was just about the most perfect thing in the world.

  Who needed sex?

  THE NEXT AFTERNOON the Montford Pet Therapy Club made its second visit into Phoenix. As before, Randi was partnered with Zack and Sammie. They went to a different nursing home, but here, too, Randi saw the changes that came over people when Sammie walked in the door.

  The kids, too, were thriving on the experience. When they returned, they asked Zack and Randi if they could possibly schedule a couple more visits during the semester. Zack said he’d see what he could do.

  “How often do you visit Rick?” Randi asked after all the kids had left, and she and Zack got ready for their evening skate.

  She’d been looking forward to seeing Rick again. And was anxious to find out if he’d reached any new milestones.

  “I like to get in at least once a week, but don’t always make it, depending on how busy we are at the clinic. And whether or not Cassie’s in town. But I never let it go more than two weeks.”

  “So you’ve seen him since we were last there?”

  He nodded. “I went last Sunday.”

  “I would have liked to go.” She’d been having dinner with her family, instead. They’d stopped pressuring her about living alone since she’d bought her house, but all of a sudden the little comments had started up again.