Читать книгу Stranger in Town - Бренда Новак - Страница 10

THE DAY HAD TURNED HOT and dry. The heat blasted into Gabe’s truck as he opened the door, lifted his wheelchair to the pavement and swung into it. Already he could feel the attention of those on the football field. Even the cheerleaders practicing stunts in front of the gym stopped to watch as he got out.

It wasn’t difficult to imagine what they were thinking: He’s here…That’s his truck…How does he drive without using his feet? How does he get into his chair? Oh, look at that…

He’d been MVP of the National Football League for two years running. The last thing Gabe ever thought he’d become was a freak show.

Taking the roster from the back seat of his extended cab, he hooked it on the handle of his wheelchair, whistled for Lazarus and started pushing for the gate.

Excited by the promise of a new activity, Lazarus trotted circles around him. Gabe was fairly sure Coach Hill had never brought a dog to practice. He knew Lazarus might raise a few eyebrows, but Gabe didn’t really care. If the school board didn’t like it, they could fire him. He hadn’t asked for this job in the first place.

Coach Owens immediately spotted him and hurried over. They met up just as Gabe rolled onto the track surrounding the field. “Hello, Coach. Good to see you again. It’s been a while.”

Coach…Gabe wondered how long it’d take him to get used to his new title. “Thanks. Good to see you, too.”

Owen’s arthritis had taken more ground, distorting his hands, but his smile revealed no animosity, even when he glanced at Lazarus. Gabe decided Coach Owens was as good-natured and open as he’d always been.

Blaine, of course, was a different story. He stood on the far edge of the field with a whistle in his mouth, his hands propped on his hips in a classic stance of “I’m the boss here.” He glared at Gabe for several long seconds, making Gabe feel even more self-conscious about getting his damn chair down onto the field. But Gabe refused to be intimidated by a man who couldn’t even manage his own temper. Gabe had seen Blaine toss players into lockers, throw a football at the back of a guy’s head, chuck a clipboard across the room. He’d even held Gabe’s head under water once, when Gabe had called an audible instead of running the play Blaine had sent out to him. It didn’t matter that Gabe had read the defense and knew Blaine’s play wouldn’t work. It didn’t matter that the change resulted in a touchdown pass that won the game and secured the team a spot in the play-offs. Everyone knew Blaine hadn’t called what Gabe ran, and Blaine didn’t like being upstaged.

Considering Blaine’s lack of control, it was a miracle he still worked at Dundee High. Anywhere else in America he would have been sacked long ago. But his more violent outbursts had occurred back when teachers had a great deal more latitude. And he’d coached at Dundee High so long he seemed like a permanent fixture. In a town where everyone knew everyone else, firing Blaine felt too much like firing family.

Gabe squinted against the sun to see the boys who had all turned expectantly toward him. Oddly enough, their faces were already streaked with dirt and sweat as if they’d been practicing for some time. “Am I late?” he asked, checking his watch, which indicated he wasn’t.

Owens shifted from foot to foot and clasped his gnarled hands behind his back. “No, not really. It’s just that…well, Coach Blaine wanted to get an early start.”

Gabe surveyed the forty or more athletes staring curiously back at him. “He called all these boys and told them to come to practice early?”

Mopping the perspiration on his brow with the towel that hung around his neck, Owens cleared his throat. “Actually, we have a phone tree. He…um…had me start the phone tree.”

“And no one thought to notify me?”

Owens glanced across the field as if he wanted to ask Blaine what to say now. “I guess you’re not on the list yet.”

“Put me on it,” Gabe said. “Put me right on top, because I’ll be the one to start the phone tree in the future.”

“Sure, okay, Coach. Anything you say.”

Evidently Blaine was already pushing to see what he could get away with. Gabe couldn’t give an inch, or he’d be looking at twice as much resistance later on.

“Would you mind telling Coach Blaine I’d like a word with him, please?”

Gabe could almost read Owens’s mind as his eyes once again darted toward the man in question. No doubt Owens was more than a little hesitant to become a target of Blaine’s temper. If Gabe quit or wound up fired, Blaine would most likely take over as head coach. Then Owens would be in a very difficult position.

“Is there a problem, Coach?” Gabe asked when Owens didn’t move.

“No, ah, no, of course not,” he said. “I’ll get him.”

Along with the entire football team and several parents who were sitting in the stands, Gabe watched Owens jog over to Blaine. They exchanged a few words. Then Blaine made his way slowly across the field, seemingly unconcerned.

“You wanted to see me, Gabe?” he said when they were finally within speaking distance.

Gabe knew Blaine had purposely used his first name to avoid giving him the respect of his new title but said nothing. He waited for Blaine to get a little closer. He had no intention of broadcasting the fact that they were having a problem with each other on the very first day. That would only boost gossip and start folks choosing sides, and Gabe drew enough attention as it was. He preferred to keep a low profile, if only Blaine would let him.

“What is it?” Blaine prompted.

“Well, Melvin, it seems I wasn’t notified of a change in the practice schedule.”

Blaine’s lip curled in a poor approximation of a smile. “I didn’t see any need to make you come in early. I wasn’t sure how flexible you could be with…” His gaze dropped to Gabe’s chair. “Well, let’s just say I wasn’t sure of your schedule, and I knew Owens and I could handle it.”

Gabe’s hands tightened on his wheels. Blaine had coached him; he knew how driven Gabe was, knew what being in a chair cost him. Blaine was trying to make him feel like less of a man because of his handicap, and it angered Gabe that his insecurities allowed Blaine to hit the target so perfectly.

The memory of Blaine’s hand on the back of his head, forcing him under water played again in Gabe’s mind. He was only sixteen at the time, and Blaine must’ve been forty. But once panic set in, Gabe had come up swinging and knocked his coach to the ground. He’d been ready to do more, if necessary. He still wondered what might have happened if Coach Hill hadn’t walked into the locker room at that moment.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Gabe said, “Making that change on your own is fine for today. But it had better never happen again. Do I make myself clear?”

Gabe had kept his tone and his expression so pleasant that it took a moment for his words to register. “It’s just practice, Gabe,” Blaine said. “I thought—”

“Next time you won’t need to think. You’ll know better.”

A muscle jumped in Blaine’s jaw. Except for the color of his hair, which had turned gray, he looked exactly like he had the night he’d nearly drowned Gabe in the team’s water cooler.

“Owens and I have been doing this since you were in diapers,” Blaine hissed.

“And now I’m in a wheelchair,” Gabe said calmly. “And that isn’t going to change anything either.”

Blaine said nothing. Neither did Gabe. It was a silent contest of wills. Blaine needed to understand that, wheelchair or no, Gabe was as competitive as ever. He hadn’t asked for this job, but now that he was here, he wasn’t going to let Coach Blaine run him off.

“I’m sure having a dog at practice is against school policy,” Blaine said at last, obviously grappling for whatever ammunition he could use.

Gabe shrugged. “So file a complaint.”

“It’s distracting to the boys,” he persisted.

“They’ll get used to it.”

Blaine’s lips blanched white but he held his tongue.

“Unless you have further questions, I think that about covers it,” Gabe said. “Call the team together. I’d like to talk to them.”

KENNY HAD BEEN looking forward to football since the end of last season. It gave him something to focus on that had nothing to do with his personal life. But today’s practice had been tense. Kenny hadn’t seen Blaine so pissed off since last year, when the varsity front line let the starting quarterback get sacked five times in one game.

“You need a ride, man?” Senior Matt Rodriguez nudged Kenny in the shoulder as he passed, his cleats clicking on the cement.

“No thanks.” Kenny put his gear, which he’d carried out of the locker room with him, on the ground and sat down at the curb by the fence surrounding the field.

“Your mother coming?” Matt asked.

“My dad,” he said, which meant he’d have a wait. His dad was always late.

Matt dug his keys out of his football bag. “See you tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah, you too.” Kenny watched enviously as his friend pulled out of the lot in a beat-up red truck. Kenny had his license but no car to drive. Because his mother occasionally had to travel to different shoots, she couldn’t loan him her Volvo, at least not very often. And he knew better than to hope his dad might help him buy a car—even an old junker. Russ Price was lucky to have wheels of his own. What he drove usually ran worse than Matt’s truck.

Tossing a rock across the parking lot, Kenny leaned against the fence and considered the coming weekend. The prospect of spending another few days at his father’s trailer wasn’t particularly appealing. Kenny was still angry about Brent getting hold of that porn video. What kind of father kept that shit in the house where a little boy could reach it?

The sound of a car made him glance up.

“You need a ride, Kenny?” Tiffany Wheeler smiled prettily at him from inside her green bug. The cheerleaders were usually gone when football practice let out. Evidently they’d stayed late.

“No, I’m covered,” he said. “Thanks.”

“You goin’ to the dance tonight?”

Tempted by the promise in her voice, he hesitated. He was almost positive Tiffany liked him, which was quite a compliment since she was a year older and so many of the other boys admired her. But he couldn’t go to the dance. After the lack of remorse Russ had shown over that video incident, Kenny didn’t want to leave his little brother with their father. Kenny wouldn’t put it past Russ to go out drinking and leave Brent home alone. “Not this time.”

“Oh.” Her expression revealed her disappointment. Kenny feared she’d simply set her heart on someone else, but he couldn’t change his mind.

“Okay. Have fun whatever you do,” she said.

He’d be baby-sitting, which didn’t sound like fun at all. He did a lot of it. But he was Brent’s only protection when they weren’t with their mother. If Kenny told Hannah half the stuff that went on at his father’s place, she’d sue Russ for full custody again, and Kenny didn’t want that to happen. The court battles freaked everyone out. Especially Brent, who loved Russ regardless.

Kenny loved their father, too. He just wished Russ could pull his life together and take some pride in himself for a change. “See you around,” he said as Tiffany drove off.

Car doors slammed, engines rumbled and parent after parent came by for those who didn’t drive.

At least half an hour later, Coach Blaine stalked past Kenny, but didn’t say anything. A few minutes after that, Coach Owens mumbled goodbye.

Even Owens seemed worried about the recent changes, Kenny realized, and cursed under his breath. He missed Coach Hill. Everything was cool when Coach Hill was around. Gabe had given them a stern lecture about persistence and determination. He’d talked about all-for-one and one-for-all, personal excellence and self-discipline, and he’d said that only those guys who played with heart would play for him. Then, he’d instituted a few new drills that were guaranteed to make them too sore to move tomorrow. The speech was good, and the drills might prove helpful, but with the coaching staff fighting amongst themselves, Kenny wasn’t sure any amount of motivation or hard work would make enough difference. Coach Hill always said they had to be unified or they wouldn’t win a single game. Football is a team sport, my friends….

“Kenny?”

He scrambled to his feet when he saw Coach Holbrook and his dog coming toward him from the locker room. Kenny wasn’t surprised Gabe was still around—Gabe’s truck was one of the few vehicles remaining in the lot—but Kenny was more than a little self-conscious about facing his new coach alone. The wheelchair made him nervous. The fact that his mother was to blame for the wheelchair made it even worse. “Yes, sir?”

Holbrook studied him for a moment. “You need a ride?”

Kenny glanced at the entrance to the lot, hoping to see Russ’s old Jeep. But the drive was empty and so was the street.

“Um, my dad’s probably on his way.”

Gabe arched his eyebrows. “The ‘probably’ part has me a little worried.”

Kenny tried to pump some conviction into his voice. “I mean, I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.”

“What if he doesn’t come?”

“I’ll walk.” Kenny shrugged as if it was no big deal, but his mother lived more than three miles away, he was already exhausted and it was hotter than hell. Besides, if he showed up at her place, she’d know Russ had forgotten him again and his parents would end up in another huge fight.

Holbrook consulted his watch. “Did you tell him when practice would be over?”

Kenny had actually told Russ it ended half an hour earlier than it did. That strategy sometimes cut down on the waiting. But he wasn’t going to admit that to Gabe. It made his father look pathetic. “Yeah.”

“He’s nearly an hour late.”

“He’s busy, I guess.”

Gabe’s lips formed a grim line. “Come on, I’ll drop you off.”

Kenny didn’t know what to do. He didn’t feel like waiting for his father any longer. But he didn’t want to get into Gabe’s truck. What would they talk about?

Reluctantly, he gathered his stuff and trailed his new coach across the lot. When Gabe started to get out of his wheelchair, Kenny hesitated. Should he offer to help? Should he be the one to load the wheelchair?

Gabe didn’t turn but he must’ve felt Kenny’s hesitancy because he said, “I’ve got it,” sharply enough that Kenny knew offering to assist him would not be a good thing.

Kenny had just rounded the truck and climbed in beside Gabe’s dog when his father finally pulled up next to the passenger side. Brent was in the back seat, without a seat belt.

“There you are,” Russ called out from the Jeep. “What, did practice let out early today?”

His dad was so full of crap. Kenny didn’t respond. Grabbing his shoulder pads and helmet, he scrambled out. “I guess my ride’s here,” he mumbled. “Thanks, Coach.”

“Hey, Brent, see that? It’s Gabe Holbrook,” Russ said. “Did you know he was MVP two years in a row?”

Even Brent looked like he was afraid their father would embarrass them. “Get your seat belt on,” Kenny grumbled to him.

“Are you coaching the team now?” Russ asked as Brent buckled up.

Holbrook situated himself behind the wheel before answering. “That’s the latest.”

“No one told me.” Russ glanced accusingly at Kenny. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I haven’t seen you since it happened,” he said and silently begged his father to drive off.

Unfortunately, they didn’t move. “I have to admit that makes me a little nervous,” he said. “I mean, this kid’s got real talent. You won’t…you know, hold Kenny back for what Hannah did, will you? Kenny had nothing to do with putting you in that chair. And he’s the best quarterback you’ve got. He should definitely start.”

Kenny felt his face flash hot. Thanks to his father, he was going to be benched for sure. Why did Russ have to get involved?

When Gabe’s gaze cut from his instrument panel to Kenny’s father, the expression in his eyes was glacial enough to remind Kenny of a character he’d once seen in a cartoon strip. Iceman could freeze people to the spot with one glance…. “You worry about your job as Kenny’s father, I’ll worry about my job as Kenny’s coach,” he said. Then he turned some knobs and flipped some switches and roared out of the lot.

Russ shook his head. “Oh boy,” he said. “Gabe’s going to be a problem, I can tell already. We need to take Coach Blaine out for a drink.”

GABE GLANCED at his watch. Before he drove all the way home from practice, he thought he should probably stop by and see his mother. He didn’t do that very often because he didn’t want to run into his father. But the state senate was in session, so Gabe was fairly confident Garth wouldn’t be around.

He cruised past his parents house, checking for his father’s Lincoln. When he didn’t see it in the open garage, or find his sister’s van in the drive, he pulled to the curb. His mother wasn’t to blame for the mess that had resulted in a half sister Gabe didn’t want. But it bothered him that Celeste persisted in being so understanding about the whole thing. How could she welcome Lucky into the family after what Garth had done?

Gabe’s mother never ceased to amaze him. She was unfailingly kind, eternally patient and always engaged in a worthy cause. He wondered how much money she’d raised for the various charities she’d supported over the years….

“Gabe!” she said, flinging open the door while he was still rolling up the walk.

Lazarus shot out ahead of him, and she gave him a good pat.

After the accident, his parents had hired a contractor to install a ramp. She placed a kiss on Gabe’s forehead as soon as he reached the top of it.

“Hi, Mom,” he responded. “How are you?” She looked great. She’d put on a few pounds in recent months. And her dark hair had begun to thin. But the sparkle in her blue eyes would always make her pretty.

“I’m fine. What a nice surprise to see you.”

“I was in town. Thought I’d drop by.”

“I’m glad you did. Come in and have some iced tea. Your father will be so disappointed that he missed you.”

Gabe halted before crossing the threshold. His mother was always trying to patch things up between him and his father, but Gabe wasn’t in the mood to put up with any coaxing. “Don’t start, Mom.”

She held the door expectantly and Lazarus trotted inside, his toenails clicking on the marble floor. “Start what?” she said.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he said, following his dog.

She led them into the kitchen and poured him a glass of iced tea, but she didn’t drop the subject, as he wanted her to. “Gabe, when are you going to put this thing with Lucky behind you?” she asked. “I can’t stand what it’s doing to you or your father. I want my family back.”

“A family that includes Lucky?”

“Why not? She’s just as innocent as you are.”

On one level, Gabe understood that and agreed. But the whole Lucky situation was simply too overwhelming to deal with right now. “I’m not trying to hurt her. I just want to be left alone. Live and let live.”

“She asks about you all the time.”

“Mom—”

“And your father—”

Gabe’s glass sounded as though it might break when he slammed it down on the tile countertop. “You’re worried about Dad? He’s the one to blame for all this.”

She usually backed off when he grew angry. But that wasn’t the case today. “You have to weigh a man by his whole life, Gabe,” she said gently. “Not one mistake. Anyone can make a mistake.”

No kidding. Had Gabe not been living with Hannah’s mistake, he probably could’ve taken his father’s in stride, the way his mother and sister seemed to have done. But he’d learned about his father’s affair, and the existence of his half sister, when the foundation of his life was already crumbling beneath him. He’d thought his father was the one thing—the one person—he could always rely on. Then Garth had made his shocking confession and Gabe had realized he couldn’t take anything for granted.

“He had an affair with the most notorious prostitute in town, Mom. Worse, that affair resulted in a child. How can you accept what he’s done?” He scowled. “God, I was out there campaigning for him, raising money by telling everyone that he has integrity and would make a solid congressman.”

He thought she’d argue that Garth would make a solid congressman. Deep down, Gabe really believed that, too. But she didn’t bother. “So this is about embarrassment?”

“Of course not. Public humiliation is only part of it,” Gabe said. “Anyway, I don’t want to talk about Lucky anymore. I came here to tell you I’ve got a job.”

“Really? Where?”

“Here. I’m taking over the Spartans.”

“That’s wonderful! Your father will be so—” She caught herself. “Even Reenie will be pleased to hear it.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged. “We’ll see how it goes.”

The phone rang. She raised one hand in a gesture that said she’d only be a minute and answered it. “Hello?…Yes, dear, I’ve heard. It is good news. I’m glad you’re happy about it. I know…He’ll be fantastic…Actually, he’s sitting right here so I’d better…Well—” she glanced at him and frowned “—actually, he’s in the restroom right now. Maybe he could call you later?…Right. See you on Thursday…We’ll have a good time…I always love shopping for antiques…Okay, then. I’ll talk to you soon…”

Gabe’s mood darkened as he watched her disconnect. “Who was that?”

She hesitated, obviously leery.

“Mom?” he pressed.

“It was Lucky.”

Lucky again. The most important people in his life had all grown close to her. With a sigh, he pushed his iced tea away. “I gotta go.”

“Gabe, don’t leave yet,” she said. But his sister came through the front door at that precise moment.

“Hey, I thought that was your truck Decided to act a little human and actually leave the cabin today, huh?”

Gabe didn’t respond. With a whistle, he called Lazarus and left.

SO WHERE WAS Kenny?

Hannah sat at her desk staring at the phone, a victim to the same nail-biting, stomach-knotting anxiety she felt almost every time Russ took the boys. She was afraid that her ex would get drunk and drive with Brent and Kenny in the car, fall asleep with a lit cigarette and burn down the trailer, or bring home a couple of vagrants who couldn’t be trusted around kids. There was no telling what Russ might do. He’d done plenty of questionable things in the past, some she knew about and probably lots she didn’t. Kenny and Brent and Russ’s family, especially his sister Patti, tried to cover for him, but Hannah had lived with Russ for twelve years. She knew what he was like. And she knew he’d gone downhill since the divorce. It was a travesty that the courts had made it impossible for her to protect the boys.

The phone rang and she snapped it up. “Hello?”

“Hannah?” It wasn’t Kenny. It was Betsy Mann, the woman who’d called nearly two hours ago to complain that Russ had been terribly late picking up Brent from his play date with her grandson, which made her miss her voice lessons. Hannah found it irritating that folks still expected her to apologize for Russ’s shortcomings. She and Russ had been divorced for nearly six years. But life in Dundee changed slowly, if at all, and today she was far more worried about the fact that Betsy hadn’t seen Kenny in the Jeep when Russ finally arrived. Had he forgotten Kenny or dropped him off somewhere? Hannah was betting on the former. Russ forgot the boys, or simply blew them off, all the time.

“Have you found Kenny?” Betsy asked.

Leaning forward at her desk, Hannah rested her forehead on the butt of her hand. “No. Russ isn’t answering. I haven’t been able to reach Coach Blaine, either. But Coach Owens told me Kenny was still waiting on the curb when he left.”

“Did you go over to the school?”

“Of course. I didn’t see him.”

“Maybe he tried to walk home.”

“There was no sign of him on the streets.”

Kenny was not a little boy. And Dundee wasn’t exactly a high-crime district. But an accident could happen anywhere. What concerned Hannah was that she knew he wouldn’t call her if his father didn’t show up. He tried to keep that sort of thing quiet so he wouldn’t stir up trouble.

“Marge over at Finley’s Grocery said that Gabe Holbrook’s the new head coach now that Larry’s passed away, God rest his soul,” Betsy said. “Have you tried him?”

“Not yet.”

“Do you have his number?”

“No.”

“Don’t worry. I called Celeste, Gabe’s mother, and got it for you, just in case.”

Sometimes people in Dundee were a little too helpful. But with Kenny’s welfare hanging in the balance, Hannah didn’t mind.

“He’s unlisted, you know,” Betsy was saying as Hannah rummaged through the drawer, looking for a pen. “Gabe’s such a big star he can’t publish his phone number for anyone to find. I happen to be good friends with Celeste, so she gave it to me the moment I asked. I help her with the crab feed for Safe & Sober Grad Night every year, you know.”

What Hannah knew was that Gabe wanted to avoid his old acquaintances as much as his adoring fans—and she suspected he wanted to avoid her more than anyone else. Especially after what had passed between them this morning. But she found a pen and took down his number. Maybe he’d seen Kenny get into a car with one of the other players. If so, at least she’d have somewhere else to look.

“Thanks,” she said and hung up. Then she traced the numerals of his number several times while working up the nerve to call him.

GABE SET his staining brush aside, used the remote to turn down the stereo in his workshop and leaned over to reach the phone. It had been a long day, filled with more interruptions than he’d had in the past year. It seemed like half the town had contacted him since practice. Some had questions about whether or not he was planning to significantly change the football program at DHS. Some put in a plug for one player or another, or wanted to analyze this year’s talent. Others simply called to say how grateful they were that he was stepping in for Coach Hill. After his little confrontation with Blaine, Gabe was grateful for the support. But he’d kept to himself for so long, he also felt bombarded, overwhelmed and more than a little rusty on the social skills.

“Hello?”

“Gabe?”

In the corner, Lazarus sat up.

“Yes?” It was Hannah. Gabe knew it instantly, and immediately feared that Mike had called her and made some type of suggestion that they get together.

He was considering breaking his best friend’s nose when she asked if he’d seen Kenny, and he realized he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion.

Letting a sigh slip silently between his lips, he remembered the way Russ had acted when he’d pulled up that afternoon, and his anger turned to disgust. “His father picked him up at practice,” he said.

“Oh, he did?” He heard her relief. “I haven’t been able to reach them, so I wasn’t sure.”

Taking advantage of the fact that Gabe had stopped working, Lazarus walked over and nudged him. “He was pretty late, but he finally came,” he said, scratching his dog behind the ears.

“That’s good.”

“Glad I could help.” Gabe was eager to get off the phone. He’d dealt with enough people for one day—and he didn’t want whatever had happened between them this morning to raise its head again. He could already feel some kind of tension humming through the line. But she spoke before he could hang up.

“Marissa asked about you the other day.”

“Marissa?”

“My friend? The one I hung out with all the time in high school?”

That Marissa. How could he have forgotten her? She’d been one of the more determined girls-in-pursuit he’d known at Dundee High. Even the groupies who’d followed him around once he started playing in the NFL hadn’t had her perseverance. She’d asked him to the prom, after he already had a date, called him incessantly, sent him love letters, drove past his house three or four times a night. Once she even decorated his truck with hundreds of lipstick kisses interspersed with chocolate kisses. It had taken him hours to clean it off. “I remember…How is she?” he added when he realized his response had been a little too deadpan to be polite.

If Hannah noticed, she didn’t let on. “She’s living in Boise, married with five kids.”

“I’m happy for her,” he said. But he was even happier for himself now that he knew there was little chance of running into her, or once again becoming the object of her adoration. He’d expected his wheelchair to deter some of the women who’d chased him so brazenly, but the numbers hadn’t dropped significantly until he’d bought his cabin and disappeared from public view. He wasn’t sure what drew them. Maybe it was sympathy, the compulsion to feel needed, a craving for attention. Or maybe they simply saw dollar signs.

Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on how he looked at it—he’d known since the accident that he wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship. He especially didn’t want to keep company with a woman who sought him out because of pity or greed.

“She’s doing well,” Hannah said.

There was an awkward lull in the conversation, but instead of saying goodbye, Gabe hesitated, thinking of what Mike had told him earlier. He wanted to ask Hannah if Russ had won any spousal maintenance. The idea of an able-bodied man like Russ living off Hannah really bothered him. But what had happened between her and Russ was none of his business.

“Well, have a nice weekend,” he said.

“Gabe?”

Lazarus yawned as Gabe brought the phone back to his ear. “Yeah?”

“I was wondering…”

Gabe’s muscles nearly cramped while he waited. What was she going to ask? Had Mike spoken to her after all? From the temerity in her voice, it certainly sounded that way. “What?”

“Is there any chance you’d—”

“No.”

Lazarus barked, probably in response to the tension he sensed in Gabe. Then there was a long silence during which Gabe wondered how to smooth over the rejection that had just shot out of his mouth.

“But you don’t even know what I was going to ask,” she said at last. “I mean, you make so much furniture. One chair can’t be all that important to you. Or, if it is, maybe you could make me one like it.”

That took him aback. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

“The chair on your front porch. I was hoping you’d sell it to me.”

Gabe blinked in surprise—and felt more than a little foolish. “You want my chair?”

“If I can afford it,” she said.

Smiling at Lazarus, as if his dog could share his embarrassment, he shook his head. He had Mike to blame for his false assumption. Maybe his vanity had something to do with it, too, but it wouldn’t have been the first time a woman had asked him out. “You can have it,” he said.

“No…I wouldn’t feel good about that. I’d rather…can you name a price?”

Gabe had no idea what to charge her. He’d never sold any of his furniture before. And he didn’t need the money. He thought giving her the chair was a great idea. It could stand as a token of his goodwill, so she could go on with her life without carrying any baggage from the accident. Then, whatever happened—whether he walked or he didn’t—it would be his problem exclusively.

“It’s no big deal,” he said. “Really. I’ll drop it by tomorrow after practice.”

“Now I’m embarrassed I even asked.”

“Why?” He began scratching Lazarus again.

“Because I can’t take it unless you let me give you something in return. What if we worked out a trade?”

His hand stilled. The suggestion piqued his interest, if only to see what she might offer him. “What kind of trade?”

“I don’t know…Do I have anything you want?”

Gabe waved Lazarus away and straightened in his chair. Was he the only one whose mind was suddenly painting erotic pictures? “Give me some suggestions,” he said. Since the accident, he’d tried very hard to cram his sex drive and anything related to male/female intimacy into a single compartment in his brain, a compartment he no longer used. Yet that innocent question from Hannah had his heart pounding as he imagined her naked beneath him, his lips gliding down her flat stomach….

She seemed to realize that what she’d just said could be misinterpreted and sounded embarrassed when she scrambled to clarify. “I mean, I’m a pretty good photographer. I could do some portraits of you.”

“Of me?”

“Why not? You could use them as Christmas gifts for your folks, or put them inside Christmas cards.”

Now that he had allowed the sexy images in his mind to take shape, he was having difficulty brushing them aside. Certainly, getting his picture taken sounded like a poor substitute for what he’d been thinking. He didn’t send out Christmas cards, and he wasn’t sure he’d be spending the holidays with this folks this year. Even if he changed his mind, a portrait was about the last thing he wanted to give them. “No thanks.”

“I could photograph Lazarus.”

“Uh…” He arched a questioning eyebrow at his dog, who’d returned to his favorite corner and was yawning again, then chuckled softly. “I love Lazarus, but I’m not really the type to hang up a big photograph of my dog.”

She didn’t try to talk him into it. She immediately moved on to something else, which strengthened his suspicion that she was working hard to compensate for the “Do I have anything you want?” blunder. “Then maybe I can cook for you. You’ll be busy now that you’re coaching, right? If you like, you could swing by and pick up your dinner after practice each day, then heat it up when you’re ready to eat.”

Gabe didn’t want to be distracted from the life he’d plotted out for himself—especially by the type of images he’d just entertained. But he knew Hannah’s offer wasn’t really about a chair. Despite the years that had passed, she was still looking for some way to feel better about her part in the accident. “I guess we could try it,” he said. “I could give Kenny a ride at the same time if you like.”

Hannah quickly agreed and seemed eager to discuss the details. But Gabe knew almost instantly that he’d made a mistake. He might have given way to Mike’s pressure to take over the Spartans, but that didn’t mean he had to let other people intrude in his life.

“Gabe?” she said when the conversation began to wind down.

“What?”

“What did you think I was asking for earlier?”

“When?” He already knew the answer—when he’d given her a resounding “no” before she could even finish the question—but he hoped to buy himself some time.

“When I was asking about the chair.”

No good answer presented itself. “Oh, something else,” he said vaguely, then added a quick, “I gotta go.” He hung up before she could press him, but the memory of her voice lingered in his mind as Lazarus followed him into the house. He’d let her cook for a week or so, he decided, as he changed into his T-shirt and shorts so he could work out. Then he’d thank her, insist it was enough and get back to growing his wheatgrass.