Читать книгу Falling For The Cop - Dana Nussio - Страница 14
ОглавлениеLOCAL WOMAN CRITICALLY injured in police chase.
Shane returned to the top of the article on his laptop and read the whole thing a second time. It had been too easy to find in a simple search, yet so much harder to read. Just another high-speed chase with tragic, unintended consequences. Only this time, Natalie and her mother were the innocent bystanders whose lives were forever changed by it.
No wonder Natalie hated cops. She could blame a couple of them for her mother’s injuries. If the woman was even still alive.
Chewing his lip, he returned to the search results and scanned the headlines for follow-up articles. Most were from the initial accident and the ethical questions about whether the officers should have called off the chase once inside city limits. But one article, dated several months later, described a lawsuit for the care of a paraplegic accident victim. Long-term care, meaning she’d still been around to need it. Still another article spoke of a settlement reached as officers involved were cleared of wrongdoing.
At the sound of approaching footsteps behind him, Shane startled, bumping the TV tray and nearly sending the whole electronic setup onto the floor.
Trevor Cole set the tray of food on an end table and hurried to help with the tray.
“Easy there. Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Yeah.” But Shane closed the laptop instead of showing his frend the results.
Trevor raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment as he moved the laptop to the other end table and replaced it with the food tray.
“I told you I could do that for myself.” Shane frowned at the sandwich, glass of milk and chopped strawberries.
“I know you did, but I was already getting something for myself.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Shane waved away the other officer’s excuse and took a big bite of his ham sandwich, chewed and swallowed. “But thanks.”
“No problem. Anyway, you were busy doing research for...whatever you were looking for.”
“Just keeping up on the news.” He took a few more bites of the sandwich.
Shane pretended not to notice Trevor’s speculative glance before he returned to the kitchen. It wasn’t anyone’s business what he was looking for, even if he thought Shane was surfing porn. Whether that was better or worse than searching for details on his physical therapist, he couldn’t decide.
His gaze landed on the laptop again, the last article replaying in his thoughts. Natalie had every reason to be angry at the world. He could even see why she might blame all police officers, since there had been no repercussions for the cops involved. But that didn’t make him like it.
Shane shifted, pushing the plate away.
“Is there something wrong with the sandwich?” Trevor called from the doorway where he’d been standing for who knew how long.
“Just not hungry.”
“You need to keep up your strength.”
If he had a dollar for every time someone had said that these past three months, he could retire today. But he forced down a few more bites of the sandwich, shoved in the strawberries and gulped the milk, so his friend would take away the tray. As soon as Trevor left the room, Shane rolled his chair forward so he could grab the laptop again. This time with the computer balanced precariously on his lap, he glanced at the list of articles again, becoming more perturbed by the minute.
He was guilty of a lot of things, but he refused to take responsibility for someone else’s mistake. It wasn’t fair for Natalie to blame him for the chase. He planned to tell her so the next time he saw her.
“Come to think of it,” he whispered to the computer screen.
He began another search. There were a few things he needed to say to Natalie Keaton, and whether she realized it or not, she’d given him an easy way to do it. Sure, it might fall into a gray area where stalkers were concerned, but she was the one who’d volunteered where she would be tonight. He was only looking up the specifics. Still, he glanced over his shoulder to make sure Trevor wasn’t watching from the doorway.
Since there was only one youth wheelchair basketball league in the area, details weren’t tough to find. With just six teams in the league, all games were played at the same gymnasium. This was almost too easy.
He was just writing down the address on a notepad he kept on the end table when Trevor returned, this time empty-handed. Again, Shane shut the laptop.
“You know,” Trevor began, “we’re trained to pick up on when someone is hiding something.”
“It’s no big deal.”
“I’m sure, but just let me know if you’re conspiring for world domination or something.”
“Nothing like that.”
Was he really hunting for Natalie to give her a piece of his mind, or was he just looking for a way to see her outside the clinic? He chose not to answer that question.
“Maybe you’re searching for better home care,” Trevor said. “Free help tends to be subpar.”
“I couldn’t get better help if I paid top dollar for it.”
“Then what?”
The wheels in Shane’s mind were turning. His jaw tightened, the reality of his physical limitations battling his need for independence. There was no way he would be able to pull this off without help.
When Shane glanced over again, Trevor was watching him too closely.
“Just let me know what I can do to help.”
This time Shane grinned at him. “How do you feel about watching some basketball tonight?”
* * *
CHATTER AROUND NATALIE died down as she crouched in front of the excited group of boys and girls in Wakefield Elementary School’s new gymnasium, where the Livingston Community center team played all of its games. The players’ outlandishly expensive sports wheelchairs were pressed wheel to wheel for the team pep talk.
“Now, I don’t want any of you to get discouraged. We’ve had a rough season so far, but you’ve played your best, and you’re getting better all the time.” She made eye contact with each of her ten players, giving them her most encouraging smile. “Just go out there and have fun. If we win, we win. And if we lose, we’ll try again next week.”
“But it’s more fun to win,” ten-year-old Lucas chimed.
“Now, Lucas, remember, it’s more important that we learn to play as a team. The other part will come in time.”
“But when?” he whined.
She was beginning to wonder the same thing herself. Most of her players were returning from last season, and the team had finished last year without a single win. Lucas was her best player and hardest worker, so Natalie already knew that if individual efforts could have made a difference, they already would have won.
She leaned down to muss the boy’s mop of tawny hair. “We’ll get there.” She turned back to the whole team. “Now let’s go get ’em.”
“Go, Junior Cats!” they called out in unison.
She wasn’t sure from where they mustered their enthusiasm. These kids faced so many disappointments in their daily lives, from art classrooms with work tables too low for their wheelchairs to fit, to bouncy-house birthday parties to which they weren’t invited. The least she could do was give them a win here, where they were all on a level playing field.
“Yeah, go, Junior Cats! Hoot! Hoot!”
Natalie jerked, and not just because it was the loudest cheer she’d ever heard at a Cats game. A shiver of familiarity shimmied down her spine. But there was no reason for him to be there. She shook away the sensation as she started back to the coach’s bench, but the sound came again, as loud as before.
“Go, Junior Cats! Go, Cats!”
Finally, unable to resist, she turned toward the far end of the bleachers. Parked right next to the rows of seats, Shane grinned and waved at her. Lucas moved to center court for the tip-off, the other starters took their positions and the subs lined their chairs up next to the bench, but Natalie couldn’t move. What was Shane doing here in her life outside the clinic? He had to know that he’d just thrown her a boulder-size curveball as his smile widened. She didn’t recognize the man next to Shane, but even out of uniform, the guy practically had cop stamped on his forehead.
Somehow she managed to give a tight wave before turning to sit on the bench, hiding the heat rushing to her face.
Of course, she’d mentioned the game earlier, but she hadn’t given a time or location. Was she flattered that he’d tracked her down? If she had any instinct for self-preservation, his appearance should have given her the creeps. So why was her discomfort tinged with flutters of excitement?
“Go Coach Natalie!” he cheered this time.
If there was any question as to whether he’d come to see her, that last cheer removed all doubt. Her jaw tightened as resentments from what felt like another lifetime resurfaced as if uncovered by a careless backhoe. Why had Shane come here? He couldn’t know that this was a sensitive subject for her. He had no idea that he was the first person ever to attend one of her games. This was different, of course. She wasn’t even playing. Yet she was nervous and excited and oddly proud, just as she would have been had her mother shown up for even one of her games.
That he’d disturbed her private web of feelings, intricately tied with the fragile thread of buried hurts, only made her angrier. So mad that she missed the tip-off. Only the cheers of the children next to her brought her back.
“Let’s go, Junior Cats!” she called out, relieved that she hadn’t asked for more defense, particularly when one of her players was taking a shot. It bounced off the rim, closer than most of her team’s shots. Even so, she needed to get her head back in the game.
But she couldn’t resist one more look at her unexpected fan. Of course, Shane picked that same time to glance her way. Her face heated. Shane only lifted his arm in silent cheer.
Just for her.
Somehow she made it through to the end of the game, but only by forcing herself to ignore him through all four quarters and the halftime break. She ended the game the same way she’d started it, by encouraging her players.
“You guys played a great game.” She gave them two thumbs-up for emphasis. “You should be proud of yourselves.”
“We still didn’t win,” Lucas groused, pointing to the scoreboard where the 32–17 final score still showed. “Somebody didn’t make any baskets at all.” He glanced over at Chase, who looked as if he wished his chair could swallow him.
Natalie frowned. “You know better than that, Lucas. We don’t single out players. We all did our best. And win or lose, we play as a team. Now, I saw some really good stuff out there today. We’ll build on that in practice, and we’ll be even stronger for next week’s game.”
But the solemn looks on all the players’ faces suggested she wasn’t getting through.
“We’d better have extra practice because we really need it,” Kendall, one of the two girls on the team, called from the Natalie’s left side.
“Maybe all night,” piped one of the boys.
The children all murmured their agreement. She was losing them. They were giving up, and she worried she wouldn’t be able to stop it.
“Hey, what are all of those long faces about?”
Natalie turned in the direction of Shane’s voice. She’d been so aware of him throughout the game that it didn’t seem possible that he could have wheeled his chair to the back of her team huddle without her noticing. But there he was.
The children turned their heads first and then swiveled their chairs to face the visitor they’d probably noticed from the sidelines. He was hard to miss.
“Hi, I’m Shane.”
“That’s Mr. Shane,” Natalie corrected.
Shane grinned. “I just wanted to know what all this sadness is about. I saw some good basketball out there. You guys really played your hearts out.”
Had he been watching a different game? If he’d seen any good basketball, it had been from their opponents, but she was grateful for his encouraging words.
“Are you Coach Natalie’s friend?” Lucas wanted to know.
“Do you play basketball, too?” Kendall asked.
Without even receiving answers to their questions, the players suddenly sat higher in their chairs. Even Chase. Their loss was all but forgotten as they watched, with open curiosity, the muscular man, who traveled by wheelchair like they did.
“Yes, I’m Coach Natalie’s friend,” he said, responding to the first question.
Natalie could have sworn that his warm gaze on her felt more than just friendly.
Kendall rolled to the outside of the huddle to get a closer look at Shane. “You have a wheelchair.”
Shane nodded. “Yeah, something happened at work.”
“An accident?” Lucas asked.
“Something like that.”
“I was in a car accident,” Lucas said.
“Sorry, man,” Shane told him.
Natalie braced herself, waiting for Shane to reveal what she already knew, but he didn’t volunteer any details.
“What kind of job do you have?” Kendall wanted to know.
“I’m a police officer.”
Shane met Natalie’s gaze as he said it, so she forced herself to look away, toward the basket on the south side of the court.
“Really?” one of the players chimed.
“That’s cool,” another called out.
“You aren’t a cop anymore, are you?” Lucas, ever the realist, asked.
Shane smile tightened. “Sure I am. I’ll go back to work when I get better.”
He blinked as if recognizing that he’d said those words to the wrong audience. But the children only nodded. Some of them still believed they’d get better, too.
“But I need something to do while I’m waiting to go back to work, so maybe I could be your assistant coach,” he blurted.
Natalie could only stare at Shane. His eyes widened. Had he even shocked himself with his knee-jerk offer? She shook her head, even as her pulse rushed.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Why had he offered? Did he know anything about basketball? “The season is more than half over, and the kids would have to get comfortable with another coach...”
“You’re probably right.”
She’d expected him to argue, so her disappointment that he was giving up without a fight surprised her.
Chase, who seldom had an opinion about anything, suddenly rolled his chair closer to Shane. “Can Mr. Shane be our assistant coach, Coach Natalie?”
“Yeah, can he?” another chimed.
Natalie was caught—had been from the moment he’d arrived at the gym with an agenda that still wasn’t obvious to her. But as much as she couldn’t disappoint the children, who were excited to be near an adult facing challenges similar to theirs, she reasoned that it might be good for Shane, as well. Somehow she needed to help restore his confidence if she wanted him to move forward in his recovery.
“We’ll need to check with the league. And your parents.”
Who was she kidding? League officials would be thrilled to have a police officer among the coaching ranks. As for the parents, they were already crowding closer, excited about the prospect of having someone with a physical disability serving as a role model for their kids. She couldn’t blame them.
“If it’s okay with them, then it’s fine with me,” she said.
What followed were the loudest cheers her players had made all day.
The man who’d been with Shane earlier strode across the gym as the players waved and started off with their families. He raised an eyebrow when he reached them.
“What have you gotten into now?” He turned conspiratorially to Natalie, gesturing toward Shane. “This guy. You leave him alone for a minute and he causes all kinds of trouble.”
“I’m starting to realize that,” she said with a wry smile. “Hi. I’m Natalie.”
“Trevor.” He shook her hand.
“One of Shane’s police officer friends?”
Trevor waggled an eyebrow. “Did he already tell you about me?”
“Just a guess.”
“Good. He didn’t tell me about you, either.” He exchanged a look with Shane and then turned back to her.
“I’m Shane’s physical therapist,” she explained.
“Oh, I see.” He gave Shane a thumbs-up and then turned back to her. “Count on Shane to have a therapist like you. He always finds the pretty ladies.”
“Just his PT,” she clarified. And what exactly did the guy see? “Well, apparently, we’re going to do some coaching together.”
“Him? Coach basketball?” Trevor stifled a laugh. “So that’s why you wanted to come to a game. To coach?”
“I’ll be the assistant coach,” Shane clarified.
“If everything checks out,” Natalie couldn’t help adding.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Trevor said. “You’ve got one of the good ones. The kids will be lucky to have him.”
“I keep hearing that. He must pay you guys for endorsements.” But even as she said it, the officer’s words replayed in her thoughts. You’ve got one of the good ones. She didn’t have him at all, and didn’t even want to...right?
“He pays every month, just like clockwork.” Trevor turned back to Shane. “So, since you’re assistant coaching and all, you’ll be needing rides to the practices and games.”
“I can pick him up,” Natalie heard herself saying. “I mean, since transportation is always an issue.”
Both men looked at her.
“I can’t ask you to do that,” Shane said.
“But you can ask me?” Trevor said.
Natalie shook her head to squash the argument. “I’m already going to the practices and the games, so it only makes sense for me to pick you up.”
When Shane opened his mouth as if to argue again, she added, “It would give your coworkers a break.”
She couldn’t explain why she’d launched the low blow any more than she knew why she’d offered to drive him, but when he blinked, she knew she’d hit her target. What kind of person used a guy’s guilt against him like that?
