Love at the 20-Yard Line

by Shanna Hatfield

  “Football, huh? Well, I’m sure you’ll find plenty to talk about with my husband. He lives for football season,” Rachel said, asking Brody if he wanted a glass of iced tea. He shook his head but offered his thanks.

  “Why doesn’t Dad go to the arena football games, Mom? I’ve got tickets if he ever wants to go.”

  “You know how busy he is this time of year getting ready for spring planting, honey. He just doesn’t have time.” Rachel gave Haven a look that said she’d corner her later for a long discussion about Brody.

  “Where are the guys?” Haven asked, hoping to postpone explaining to her mother why she showed up with a man who could be a professional model if he ever gave up the desire to play football.

  “In the man cave. Your brothers want to go shooting. If you hurry, you can catch them and go along,” Rachel said, pointed to the kitchen door.

  “Come on, Brody.” Haven grabbed his hand and hurried out the door into a large three-car garage. He noticed a shiny new pickup parked alongside a newer SUV.

  “It’s down here.” Haven held open a door. He followed her down a set of steps into a basement. Mounted deer and elk heads lined one wall. Another held a big screen TV and four big recliners sat in a semi-circle in front of it. Three men stood in front of the biggest gun safe Brody had ever seen.

  “Hey, there. Mom said you’re going shooting. Can we go along?” Haven approached her dad and brothers.

  “Hi, sweetheart. How are you?” John Haggarty asked, engulfing his daughter in a warm hug. “You get prettier every time I see you.”

  “Daddy,” Haven said, embarrassed. Before she could introduce him, Hale and Tom spied Brody standing by the steps.

  “Brody, man! What are you doing here?” Tom rushed over to shake his hand before Hale could tell him to be quiet.

  “Haven invited me to come along with her today.” Brody returned Tom’s handshake then walked over to shake Hale’s hand.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Tom looked from Haven to Brody. Hale gave him a not so subtle elbow to the ribs when he started to say something else, causing him to clamp his mouth shut.

  “Daddy, this is my friend, Brody Jackson. He’s a wide receiver on the arena football team.” Haven smiled encouragingly at Brody. “This is my dad, John.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Brody said. Haven did indeed have her father’s blue eyes although his tall, brawny frame closely resembled those of his sons.

  “Pleasure’s all mine, son. So you play football,” John said, excited at the prospect of discussing the game with Brody.

  He tried to hide the shock of seeing his little girl with a big, strapping man who looked like he belonged in one of the advertisements she masterminded. It was about time some boy turned her head, though.

  “You two want to go shooting?” John took out a pistol and handed it to Haven. She weighed it in her hand and returned it to the gun safe, selecting one that was smaller and lighter.

  “You bet we do.” Haven looked to Brody for agreement. He shrugged and smiled. He’d never gone shooting and decided it might be fun.

  “You’ll need these then.” John dug around in a box and found a pair of safety glasses along with something that looked like headphones from the 1980s, handing them to Brody.

  “What’s this stuff?” Brody whispered to Haven while John, Hale, and Tom were discussing which guns they should take.

  “The funky shades are eye protection and those big clunky things will keep your ears from ringing. You can turn these knobs on the sides to hear voices, but it filters out the shots.” Haven showed Brody how to adjust the volume.

  “Okay,” he said, impressed Haven seemed to know what she was doing.

  Seeing her dressed so casually, and so at home in this rural setting, made him rethink his opinion that she was one hundred percent girly. When she smacked Tom on the back of his head at something he said, Brody decided there might be a little tomboy in her as well.

  “Ready to go?” She took the ear and eye protectors from him and stuffing them in a bag along with a couple of handguns, water bottles, and some ammunition.

  “Are you going to join us, Dad?” Haven asked as they walked back up the steps to the garage.

  “No, sweetie. I think I’ll stick around the house with your mom this afternoon. You kids go have fun. Tom, be nice to your sister,” John cautioned. He grinned as they went out a side door of the garage to a carport where three four-wheelers were parked.

  “Geez, Dad. I’m always nice to the kiddo.” Tom jumped on a four-wheeler, started it up, and roaring down the road.

  “Have a good time,” John called before going in the house.

  “Looks like Brody will have to ride with you, baby girl.” Hale said. He secured the bag he carried to the back of the machine with a bungee cord before starting it and going at a much slower pace down the road in the direction Tom headed.

  “I guess you’re stuck with me.” Haven ran a bungee cord through the handle of the bag she carried and fastened it to a carrier on the front of the four-wheeler. She climbed on then slid up, making room for Brody to sit behind her. “Just hang on and you’ll be fine.”

  “I trust you,” he said, lightly placing his hands at her waist. If he spread a little charm, he hoped to talk Haven into letting him drive the four-wheeler on the way back. He’d driven one during a job he had in high school for a few months, helping a man who had a sod farm. He learned more than he ever wanted to know about grass that summer.

  “That’s good to know.” Haven started the machine and sped down the road after her brothers. Brody wrapped his arms around her and grinned, leaning closer.

  “I think there’s a wild woman hiding beneath those suits and sweaters you wear,” he said as they turned into a stackyard.

  Hale and Tom set targets in front of a one-ton bale of hay.

  “We shoot out here because there’s no one around and the bale absorbs the shots,” Haven explained. She handed Brody the earmuffs then pulled out a bright pink pair for herself. After giving him the safety glasses, she took out two handguns and set the boxes of ammo on the four-wheeler seat.

  “Are we shooting for fun or money today?” Tom asked, loading a magazine and slipping it into his gun.

  “Fun,” Hale and Haven replied at the same time.

  “Have you ever shot a gun before?” Hale asked as he stepped beside Haven and Brody.

  Brody shook his head and listened intently as Hale gave him the basics of gun safety. It seemed every sentence ended with, “never point it at someone and always make sure the safety is on.”

  Half-afraid to take the gun and half-excited to give it a try, Brody watched Tom and Hale both shoot before Haven took a turn.

  He knew she was right-handed but she sighted with her left eye and shot left-handed.

  “I thought she was right-handed,” Brody commented to Hale.

  Hale nodded. “Haven’s at a little disadvantage in that her dominant eye and her dominant hand aren’t on the same side. She had to learn to shoot with her left hand because her right eye isn’t strong enough for her to sight with.”

  They watched as Haven hit the center of the target several times in a row.

  “Doesn’t look like she’s suffering too greatly from it,” Brody observed, making Hale grin.

  “Nope. If she wanted, I think she could outshoot all of us, but don’t tell Tom or Wes. They like to think they’re the best.”

  “Got it.” Brody high-fived Haven when she came back, all smiles. He almost bent down to kiss her then decided she might not appreciate it with her brothers watching.

  “Your turn, football man.” Haven let Hale take Brody out to shoot. He showed him how to hold his arm, site, take off the safety, and smoothly pull the trigger until Brody felt comfortable with the gun.

  His first few shots hit the dirt around the bale but the more he shot, the closer he came to the target. His last one hit one of the outer rings.

  “Not bad for a first-time
r,” Haven said, taking a drink from her water bottle then holding it out to Brody.

  Hale gave Tom a look that had them both watching Haven with interest, but they wisely refrained from saying anything.

  After shooting several more rounds, Tom decided to go back to the house, leaving Hale, Haven, and Brody to practice.

  “Try my pistol. Let’s see how you do with it.” Hale handed Haven his gun.

  “Oh, fancy. A new Ruger 9mm.” Haven examined the gun while Hale filled the magazine with cartridges. “When did you get it?”

  “A few weeks ago.” Hale handed her the magazine and watched as she slid it into the gun.

  The three of them walked out to where the target leaned against the bale. Hale and Brody took a few steps back, waiting for her to shoot.

  She took aim and fired a few rounds, hitting the center of the target. Unexpectedly, her next shot missed the target as her arm jerked up. She dropped the arm holding the gun to her side, bent over, and madly clawed at her T-shirt.

  “What’s wrong?” Hale asked, as he and Brody rushed toward her.

  “Stay away!” she yelled, turning her back to the two men while trying to fish a hand down the front of her shirt without them seeing anything they shouldn’t. She finally tossed a shell casing to the ground and turned to face them.

  Quickly making sure the safety was on, she handed the pistol back to Hale. “I don’t believe I like your gun. I’m done shooting for the day.”

  “What happened, baby girl? Are you okay?” Hale took the gun from her as he and Brody walked with her back to the four-wheelers. She grabbed a water bottle and held it against her chest.

  “I’m fine. Just fine. Go shoot some more or something.” She fluttered her hand in the direction of the target.

  Sudden understanding dawned on the two men. Brody barely contained his laughter. Hale didn’t even try to hold his back. He laughed so hard tears streamed down his face and Brody couldn’t keep a few chuckles from escaping.

  Hale turned back to the target to finish shooting the rounds already in his gun while Brody stepped behind Haven and put his hands on her shoulders.

  “You should have said something. I’d have been more than happy to help dig that casing out of your shirt for you.” Brody’s voice sounded low and seductive as he tried to peer down the neck of her T-shirt.

  “I don’t think so.” Haven frowned at Brody although his words, delivered in that husky voice laced with gravel, made her feel weak yet oddly energized despite her current predicament.

  Hale’s pistol ejected the shells to the right as she shot at the target. One of them just happened to go down the front of her shirt in the perfect funnel created by having her bosom compressed between her upraised arms.

  The wicked piece of hot metal singed her tender skin multiple times before she managed to dig it out. Momentarily alarmed she might have to rip off her shirt to get to it, she would have died of embarrassment if Brody or Hale had actually seen anything.

  Even though the cool water bottle helped ease the pain a little, she wanted to go back to the house and see if her mom had something she could put on the burns.

  “You sure you’re okay? Maybe I better take a look,” Brody suggested, turning her around and slipping a finger under the neckline of her shirt.

  Haven gave him a shove and stepped back, bumping into the four-wheeler. Uncertain if she should laugh or cry, she began loading the gear back in the bag then fastened it down in the carrier.

  “I’m going back to the house. You can ride with Hale if you like.” She stood next to the four-wheeler.

  “I’m sorry, doll. Does something hurt?” At her barely perceptible nod, he gave her a gentle hug and kissed the top of her head. “Did you get burned? Is that the problem?”

  Another nod.

  “Are you sure I can’t take a look? I’m pretty good at doctoring due to my many injuries over the years.” He wasn’t surprised when she raised a hand and smacked playfully at his chest.

  “Hale’s about done shooting. Go over there when he finishes the last round and pick up the shell casing,” Haven said, motioning toward her brother.

  Brody did as she asked and watched where the last one fell to the ground. He grabbed it in his hand and had to drop it because the metal was too hot to hold in his fingers.

  “Hot little buggers, aren’t they?” Hale removed his ear and eye protection. “Did she say what happened?”

  “No, but she told me to come grab a casing and see how it felt. Man, that’s got to be brutal on a woman’s…”

  “Don’t say it! That’s my sister, you know.” Hale slapped Brody on the shoulder as they walked back to Haven.

  “Why didn’t you throw down the gun and yank off your shirt, baby girl?” Hale teased, knowing his sister would rather die than do either thing.

  “Just be quiet. I’m heading in. You boys staying or going?” Haven asked.

  “Going.” Hale put away his stuff. He started the four-wheeler and drove away, leaving Brody staring at Haven.

  “Are you…”

  Haven cut him off before he could finish his question. “Let’s just not talk about it. Ever. Again.”

  Brody nodded his head and looked around. With the warm spring day and sunshine overhead, he could get used to being out in the country. The air smelled earthy and new, with a hint of Haven’s perfume mingling in. He breathed deeply, feeling content.

  “You waiting for something?” Haven noticed him glancing around, taking in the scenery. She’d have to bring him out once the potatoes and corn started to grow. Before they went home after dinner, she should take him out to see the baby calves. They were cute and she thought Brody would enjoy seeing them.

  “No. Just wondering if you’d mind if I drove back to the house?” he asked, giving her a charming smile.

  “I don’t mind and you don’t have to waste one of those smiles on me. I prefer the real ones.” Haven waited for Brody to climb on before sitting down behind him.

  “What do you mean real ones?” Brody wondered if other people knew most of his smiles were fake, or just Haven.

  “You have a lot of different smiles, but the one you usually give me is a real one. That one was all fake and you know it.”

  “Guilty as charged, and sorry.” Brody grinned over his shoulder at her as he started the four-wheeler. “This one’s real, though.”

  “I see that,” she smiled in return. “Now, how about you take me home?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Brody turned back the way they came, enjoying the feel of the wind in his face and Haven’s arms wrapped around his chest.

  Chapter Nine

  Haven’s brother Wes and his family waited to greet them when they returned to the house. Two little boys gaped at Brody for several minutes until Hale suggested everyone go out back and play football.

  Brody grinned and squatted down so he was closer to eye level with the two youngsters.

  “Will you two toss the ball to me? I’m much better at catching than throwing.”

  Mason and Jed enthusiastically nodded their heads, each grabbing one of Brody’s hands and tugging him outside.

  He grinned at Haven on his way out the door and she stared at him, amazed at how good he was with kids.

  “Go on and join them,” Tammy said, pushing Haven toward the door. “I’ll help your mom get dinner ready.”

  Haven found herself caught up in the fun as they played a rowdy game of backyard football. Brody and the two boys, along with Hale, took on the rest of them.

  So far, the little boys and their helpers were on track to win.

  Absorbed with their antics, Haven looked up as the ball spun her direction.

  “Catch it, sweetie,” her dad yelled as he moved to block Hale. Wes tickled his two boys while Tom tried to take on Brody, but was quickly outmaneuvered. Brody chased after Haven, making her squeal.

  She ran toward the makeshift end zone but found herself swept into Brody’s arms before she could score.


  “Isn’t that cheating?” she asked, her eyes filled with laughter while dimples danced in her cheeks.

  Brody wanted to kiss her so badly, he could feel his head dipping toward hers. Haven’s eyes started to close, anticipating his kiss, then they both felt the impact of two little bodies latching onto Brody’s legs.

  “You’re s’posed to tackle her,” Jed said, looking up at Brody, shaking his head.

  “Like this, Brody.” Mason grabbed onto Jed’s shirt and pushed him on the ground then flounced on top of him. The boys started throwing punches and shouting before Wes got them separated.

  Brody held Haven in his arms. Her chest heaved against his and the sensation nearly pushed him beyond the edge of reason.

  “I don’t think your Aunt Haven would appreciate being pummeled, boys. How about if I just set her down?” Brody reluctantly placed Haven on her feet. He wouldn’t mind rolling around in the grass with her, but he’d prefer her entire family not watch. She must have sensed a little of what he was feeling because she squeezed his hand and whispered, “thanks,” in his ear.

  “I think that’s about enough football for one day. You boys run in and wash up for dinner,” John said to his grandsons.

  “Do we have to, Gramps?” Mason asked, dragging his toes as he walked through the grass.

  “Only if you want to eat dinner instead of sitting out here by yourself.”

  “Well, that stinks,” Jed said, earning a disapproving glare from his father.

  “If I show you a trick, will you two wash up without any more complaints?” Brody asked, once again hunkering down on their level.

  The boys looked at each other then back at Brody, nodding their heads.

  “What kind of trick, Brody?” Mason watched with interest as Brody pointed to a section of fence on the side of the yard.

  “A jumping trick. If I can jump over that fence, will you two wash your hands and faces, eat your dinner, and behave the rest of the evening?” Brody gave the boys a serious look.

  “You can’t jump that high,” Mason said doubtfully, crossing his arms over his little chest. “Nobody can.”

  “Yeah, nobody,” Jed repeated, mimicking his brother.