“Isn’t T-ball pretty much the same as regular baseball?” she asked with a frown.
Joe smiled. “Yes and no. In T-ball, there’s no pitching, so you don’t have to worry about kids getting hit with a wild pitch or a wayward fly ball. At this age, kids don’t have enough hand–eye coordination or control to actually pitch a ball to a designated place. So the ball is placed on a tee and is hit from there. There’s a mandatory participation rule as well. All players must play offense and defense during each game. That way we guarantee that every kid has a chance to play as well as develop his own skills.”
“Joe, are you sure it’s safe?” she asked hesitantly, feeling a little foolish even asking. But she had to, for her own peace of mind.
“As safe as we can make it, Mattie.” Shaking his head, he laughed at a sudden memory. “I can’t and won’t guarantee the boys won’t get hurt, simply because one year I had a kid walk smack into the concrete water fountain at the park and split his forehead open. A half hour after a game.” He glanced up at her to find her watching him with interest. “His mother was not thrilled,” he remembered. “The game is as safe as we can make it. The ball we use is only four ounces in weight and is bright orange so it can be seen easily. And even if you’re hit by it, it really doesn’t do anything but smart for a moment or so. The players are required to wear safety helmets at all times, athletic shoes, preferably with baseball cleats, athletic supporters and gloves. We take every precaution necessary to ensure the safety of all players.”
Mattie nodded, feeling a bit better as she reached for another piece of pizza. “Okay, so what about practice and stuff?” This was all totally foreign to her. A new world she’d be traversing with her children for the first time and she wanted to know as much as possible.
“We have practice four times a week for an hour and a half, Tuesdays through Fridays. We have games on Saturday mornings at eleven—except when there’s a special game, like for Memorial Day or the big end-of-school parade and game. All players are required to be at all practices unless they’re sick or have a major school project. We expect all of the kids to keep up with their studies. It’s one of the requirements for being and staying on the team.”
“I understand. And approve,” she said, pinching off another piece of pizza crust and popping it in her mouth, trying to resist taking another full piece “But what about Sundays?” she asked curiously. “No practice or games?”
Shaking his head, Joe smiled as he helped himself to another piece of pizza. “Nope. Nothing on Sundays. This is still a small town, Mattie, and Sundays are reserved for family. Church services, visiting family and big Sunday dinners are still a way of life here in Healing Harbor.” And his Sundays were reserved for visiting Johnny. The whole family—or at least everyone who was in town—went out on Sundays to spend the day with Johnny at the residential home where he lived. They all had dinner together as a family, just as they had done when their folks had been alive. It was the one day the whole family connected regardless of their own busy schedules.
Carefully, Joe set his pizza down and studied Mattie for a moment, trying to ignore the ball of desire simmering low in his gut every time he looked at her. “I have to tell you, Mattie, personally, I think this would be wonderful for the boys. T-ball isn’t just about baseball. It’s a way to teach youngsters so many things. Patience. Commitment. Persistence. Dedication. We don’t focus on winning or losing, and in fact, that’s secondary. What we try to instill in the kids is a sense of feeling good about themselves and having fun.” He hesitated for a moment. “Studies have found that playing baseball helps kids in all areas. It especially helps fatherless kids,” he added softly.
“Why?” she asked, truly interested. Giving in to temptation, she took another piece of pizza and cursed her waistline.
“Well, for one thing, it will help children learn to interact with one another, as well as with male adults on a regular basis. Something they might not be used to on a daily basis.”
“Yeah, but Joe, what about the kids getting too attached to their coaches?” She glanced away for a moment. “You have to remember, my boys have never really had any interaction with adult males, at least not on an everyday basis like this.”
“Believe it or not, boys get more attached to their teammates than they do to the actual coaches. They very quickly develop a sense of camaraderie and commitment to their teammates.” He shrugged, then smiled. “Apparently, once the newness of being around adult males has worn off, boys tend to look at coaches more as authority figures than father figures. It’s healthy for them, though, to get used to interacting with authority figures, especially children who don’t interact daily with their dads. Some dads just don’t have the time or inclination to be involved in their kids’ lives.” He leaned closer. “Just because a boy has a father, Mattie, even if he’s living in the same house, doesn’t mean he sees or interacts with his kid every day. Lots of boys on our team have full-time dads, but spend more time with the coaches than they do with their own fathers.” It was a continual source of irritation to Joe. How could a man simply abdicate his parental responsibility? He simply couldn’t understand it.
“That’s very sad,” Mattie said, realizing that although her boys might not have ever had a father, they’d always had a full-time, totally involved mother. And perhaps, she realized, that was more than some two-parent kids had.
“Baseball teaches a boy more than just a sport, Mattie. It teaches young boys how to work as a team, and also gives them a sense of belonging as well as a sense of group support. They learn how to react under stress in a way that’s healthy and they also learn good sportsmanship, and that’s something that will be an asset to them their whole lives. In addition, they develop a sense of pride in their accomplishments, and a feeling of self-worth with each new skill they master. All of these things will aid the boys’ self-esteem now and in the future.”
“Sounds like you’re quite an expert on this,” she said, more impressed than she would have believed.
Thoughtfully, Joe sipped his soft drink. “I told you, Mattie. I take my responsibilities and commitments seriously.” He hesitated a moment. “For the record, I have a degree in criminology with a minor in psychology. Child psychology,” he specified, surprising her once again. “I knew I was going to make law enforcement a career and that I’d probably be dealing with kids. I wanted as much knowledge as I could get. Working with children has always been a dream of mine, and I wanted to make certain I could understand them as well as help them.” He seemed a tad embarrassed, and Mattie surprised herself by reaching out and touching his hand.
“I think that’s wonderful, Joe. Truly,” she added with a smile. “You sound more than qualified, let alone capable of handling young boys.” And he would have made a wonderful father, she thought, then immediately banished the thought, wondering where it had come from. He’d already made his feelings on that subject clear.
“But what about your boys, Mattie?” he asked quietly, tracing a finger over the top of her hand. She jerked just a fraction, but enough for him to see it. He banked a smile, realizing she was trying not to be so skittish around him, and he had to give her points for that.
There was something very appealing about how nervous she seemed around him. Nervous and, he thought, just a tad too fragile. Someone had really hurt or spooked her, he realized, and he couldn’t help it, but it brought out all his protective instincts. The lady needed to know that he wasn’t a man who’d hurt her. Or anyone.
And then there were her boys, Joe thought with a wistful little sigh. Adorable pistols—both of them so eager and anxious to please. They reminded him of another set of inseparable twins, he thought with a slight pang.
“Mattie, do you trust me enough to handle your sons?” He wasn’t certain he’d earned enough of her trust yet, but he was confident he would. Eventually.
His question had her heart pumping frantically for a moment, then Mattie silently cautioned herself to relax. He h
ad done nothing to make her doubt him, and in fact, had gone out of his way to make sure she was totally comfortable with him and his qualifications.
So how could she possibly say no?
She couldn’t.
Mattie lifted her gaze to his and saw so many things in those mysterious dark eyes, some things frightened her, some comforted her, but she knew that what she couldn’t do was make a decision based on her own fears.
Her children deserved more from life than a mother who was afraid of her own shadow, and afraid to let them live or experience life.
Yes, it was a risk. She’d be taking a risk. The boys had never interacted so closely with an adult male before, and they might get too attached; they might also get hurt physically by playing baseball. But she couldn’t very well wrap her boys in cotton wool the rest of their lives and keep them in the house just to ensure their safety. That was certainly no way to raise children.
She had to admit there was still a niggling fear knowing that she’d have to spend almost as much time with Joe as the boys would, but she had to get over her discomfort at the feelings the man caused, and realize he wasn’t in the least bit interested in her romantically.
Nor was she interested in him in that way.
To even consider such a thing would be ludicrous and foolish on her part. So he made her feel things, things she’d forgotten she could feel. Instead of fearing those feelings, perhaps she should just enjoy them, knowing they would not lead anywhere and, in fact, were harmless.
Perhaps she should just relax around Joe, enjoy the feelings she was experiencing and simply do what was best for her boys.
All in all, if she was going to entrust her sons to a man, who better than Joe? A man who was not only eminently qualified, but more important, a man who had absolutely no interest or designs on her.
He was, she realized, perfect.
Taking a slow, deep breath, Mattie laughed suddenly, feeling better than she had in hours. “Yes, Joe. I think it would be wonderful if you taught the boys to play baseball. And thank you for offering and for caring so much about two little boys’ problems.” Suddenly a little embarrassed, Mattie glanced down at the last of her pizza. “I really do appreciate everything you’ve done.” She glanced up at him with a sly smile. “Even if I haven’t always acted like it tonight.”
“Well, I’m relieved that you’re no longer looking at me as if I’m dangerous,” he said with a laugh, wondering why he felt such a rush of relief by her acceptance.
He allowed himself a moment, just a moment, to savor the feeling of knowing he’d be seeing much more of Mattie Maguire and not wondering why it pleased him so.
He turned his palm over and caught her hand in his. Her hands were so feminine, soft and incredibly delicate. For just a fraction of an instant he wondered what it would be like to feel those incredibly soft, delicate hands on other parts of his body. Clinging to his shoulders as he kissed that luscious mouth senseless. Digging into his arms as he thrust deeply inside her. The thought shocked Joe out of his reverie, causing him to blink guiltily.
He swallowed hard, and felt as if a boulder had mysteriously lodged in his throat. Where the hell had that thought come from? he wondered, looking at Mattie, grateful she couldn’t read his thoughts.
Embarrassed, he shifted his gaze back down to her hand, trying to rein in his thoughts. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d thought about a woman in such a carnal way.
Perhaps because he’d never met a woman quite like Mattie. Nor could he ever remember reacting or responding quite so strongly to a woman before. There was just something about Mattie…something that seemed to arouse both his passion, as well as his sense of protectiveness. It was an odd and compelling combination.
Maybe if she dealt with him enough, she’d learn he was trustworthy and stop being quite so frightened—at least of him. And that alone he’d consider worthwhile and a victory.
“So exactly what do I need to get the ball rolling?” she asked, drawing his gaze.
Joe swallowed again, deliberately clearing his mind of all thoughts except the subject at hand. “I’ve got all the official papers down at the office. If you don’t mind, I can drop them off at the gallery sometime tomorrow. You’ll need to sign everything, fill out all the insurance forms and include a check for uniforms.”
“That’s fine.” Relaxed now, Mattie let her hand stay in his, knowing that in spite of the increase in her pulse, she had nothing to worry about.
“Practice starts at six-thirty each evening. Ends promptly at eight.”
“I don’t mind, Joe.” Mentally, she began juggling her schedule. She usually studied in the evenings, finishing up any homework she didn’t finish during the day at work, but she could probably just bring it with her to practice. Or stay up a bit later and do it after the twins were in bed. It would be worth a little sacrifice to make the boys so happy.
“Good. You’ll have to stop by my office maybe Saturday morning and pick up the uniforms. The boys will have to try them on for size, so bring them with you. Oh, and there’ll be a list of supplies you’ll need to purchase. Make sure you write the boys’ names on everything with black, indelible ink.” Joe laughed. “If you don’t we’ll have a couple hundred kids fighting over whose cap is whose.”
“Will do.” She hesitated. “Joe, is there anything else I need to do, know or to be aware of, any advice or recommendations for this novice mother?”
Smiling, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Just relax, Mattie. This is going to be wonderful for the boys. The more they learn the more their confidence levels will go up, and the more confidence they have, the easier I think it will be for them to fit in and to do well at school.”
“I hope so,” Mattie said, chewing her lower lip. “I just hate the thought that they’re being teased. It hurts me to know they’re being hurt.”
“Kids can be very, very cruel, Mattie,” he said quietly, feeling a pain from the past settle over him like a billowing fog. He’d learned the hard way just how cruel people—especially children could be—after Johnny’s accident. And he’d bloodied more than a few noses and gotten a few himself defending his brother from the taunts and cruelty of kids at school.
He and Johnny had been racing their bikes to the park to play ball the day of Johnny’s accident—just as they did every day after school. But on that particular day, a car driven by a driver who was going too fast and who wasn’t paying attention, hit Johnny’s bike, sending his brother headfirst to the pavement.
Johnny had been severely injured and brain damaged, steeped in the mind of a twelve-year-old child, never to grow or mature beyond that.
“Joe?” Mattie touched his hand. There were shadows of sadness in his eyes she didn’t understand, and for some reason they touched her heart. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.
Dragging himself out of his memories, Joe smiled, then blew out a breath. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He reached for his pizza, chewing thoughtfully. “You know, Mattie, I really think it will be good for the boys to have some independence. As you say, you’ve been a single parent since their birth, so that means they’ve been totally dependent on you for everything. Baseball will force them to be independent, to do things without depending on you, but instead, depending on themselves and their own skills.” He grinned as her eyes flashed fire. “A little bit of independence is good for all kids,” he chided gently, watching in amusement as she ground her teeth together. “Especially boys.”
“I know, but I don’t have to like the idea,” she muttered crossly. The boys were all she had; all she’d ever wanted. “They’re everything to me, Joe.”
“I know that, Mattie, and so do they,” he said softly, giving her hand another squeeze of assurance. “But they’re not going to be young forever, and everything you do now that helps with their self-confidence and self-esteem will help them to become better teens and adults, capable of making good, sound decisions.”
“Fine, but I still don’t have to like
it,” she muttered, making him laugh.
“Mattie?” Amusement flickered in Joe’s eyes.
“What?” she grumbled, glumly resting her chin on her other hand and staring forlornly at the remaining pizza.
With an amused grin, Joe gave her hand a final squeeze, liking the way her skin warmed against his. “If we hurry, we just might have time to finish this pizza before your boys are ready to move into an apartment of their own.”
Chapter Three
“Mattie, lass, has your aunt gone daft?” Clancy Thomas McHugh, a small, spry man with a fringe of white, thinning hair and an impish smile rounded on Mattie the next afternoon, full of Irish indignation. “I’m fearing my eyes are deceiving me. Aye, lass, is it possibly your aunt has really put my latest masterpiece next to a Calhoun?”
Standing in the showroom of her aunt Maureen’s art gallery, Clancy gave an exaggerated sigh, then shook his head as he placed a hand to his heart and stared woefully at the exhibit wall.
“Aye, lass, if the truth be told, she’s broken me heart. Wounded me to the quick she has. Putting me latest masterpiece next to this…this…” Whirling, he waved his arm toward the wall where several glorious paintings were showcased under exquisite lighting. “Abomination.” He did a quick two-step that turned into an irritated Irish jig in front of the offending piece. “Aye, I’m shattered beyond repair.” He hung his head, peeking at her under the fringe of his white eyebrows. “Me old heart, why, I fear it t’will never recover.”
“Now, Clancy,” Mattie soothed in a tone of voice she would have used with her children. In the three months since she’d taken over managing her aunt’s art gallery, she’d learn that artists were, at times, little more than children. Petulant. Impulsive. Headstrong. And totally, utterly charming. She adored them. “I’m sure that Aunt Maureen didn’t mean to offend you—”
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