by Jean Oram
Myles stared at him, his expression saying he agreed with Davis.
“That was the last game some of our boys will ever play. The lucky ones will get scholarships, and they’ll be based on merit not a forfeiture,” Ryan said, turning away. He needed to regroup before he went into the locker room to celebrate.
Davis, still not out of earshot, hollered, “Even your stats keeper saw how crazy that stunt was and wanted nothing to do with it! She left to save face!”
Davis disappeared and the two brothers were silent for a moment.
Myles crossed his arms. “Maybe Carly was right to leave. Maybe she knew you were beyond listening to sense and that you’d never ask for help. If we’d lost—”
“We won, okay?”
Myles lifted his eyebrows. “If we hadn’t…”
“I’m the head coach, Myles.”
“I’m your assistant. I’m the man you keep in the loop.”
“And if we’d lost, would you be there still?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions.”
Ryan huffed a sigh.
“I jumped in a river for you. Don’t make me regret it.” He pushed his red jacket into Ryan’s hands. “I’m stepping down.”
“Wait. What?”
“I’d rather be consulted, or make my own decisions. Riverbend asked me to coach their team next year.”
“What? But you’re not qualified.”
“Actually, I am. Karen told me I passed the course.”
His brother now had more credentials than he did? “But we’re a team.”
“You might want to look up the definition of team.”
Ryan blinked at Myles. His brother was always there for him. Always. Through thick and thin.
Somehow, even winning against Priscilla she had stripped him of everything again. He’d believed he had nothing left to take, but this time she’d taken more than money. She’d caused him to be his own worst enemy and push away the people he loved in what was supposed to be a highlight moment of the year.
A cheerleader ran past, saying merrily, “Congratulations, Mr. Wylder!” She gave a squeal and shook her pompoms, giving a jump before disappearing back onto the field.
Ryan felt gutted. He’d spent so many of his free hours with Carly, spilling his secrets and plans. He’d even given her a headset on the sidelines of the most important annual event in his life. He’d given her a voice in what he did and what he decided.
He’d promised himself he’d never give a woman that much sway in his life again.
But he had.
And she’d left him.
Carly sat in the bistro across the street from the courthouse, exhausted after being raked over the coals. As she settled at a table with a hot chocolate and a sandwich, her phone vibrated with an incoming call. It was her mother.
“Hello?”
“Carly, it’s your mom, Carlotta.”
She relaxed, calmed by her mom’s chill Jamaican accent and the familiar way she always introduced herself over the phone. “Hi.”
“How did it go?” The concern in her voice brought an instant lump to Carly’s throat.
“They won. But it was messy from what I’ve heard.”
Ryan hadn’t replied to the text she’d sent him on her way to the airport, but Jackie had filled her in on the team’s win and the small scandal that had taken place. As to be expected, Ryan hadn’t taken her leaving very well.
Carly knew if she didn’t explain things to him, this was the end. Today, her hiccup of obligations and commitments could determine the rest of their future. She needed to go home, but the logistics of finding her way back to her Texas ranch tonight was almost enough to bring tears to her eyes.
She could crawl back to her family, but seeing her in this state they’d worry even more than they already were.
“I thought today was the preliminary hearing?” her mom said.
“Sorry. I thought you meant football. The Torpedoes won. But the preliminary hearing went…” She struggled to find the right word to describe having her character and story cut down at every turn. Doubt had been cast with every new reply, to the point where she had begun to doubt her own innocence.
Had she intentionally overlooked their company’s financial situation? Had she purposefully avoided pursuing whispers from her gut for fear of what she might have to face? Had a part of her known what was going on with the contracts? Or had she truly been too blind, too busy, too grateful to see what was happening behind her back?
The same questions could be asked about her relationship with Ryan. Had she chosen blindness so she wouldn’t have to face the unpleasant truth she knew in her heart? She’d known he would choose his long-touted independence and shut her out when push came to shove, and yet she’d convinced herself it would be okay.
On one level she understood why he’d done it, but she still felt hurt from his lack of trust and the sting of his words. She knew she’d made a grave error in character judgment by talking and laughing with Priscilla. The woman was smooth, sly and should have set off Carly’s alarm bells. But she hadn’t. Carly had been so excited about being at the game and overjoyed at how her life had taken such a positive turn that she hadn’t allowed even a hint of doubt to penetrate her little bubble. She hadn’t even suspected the woman was behind the game delay.
“Carly?” Carlotta said softly, returning her to the present. “Are you still in Montana?”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t you come home? You could rent a car or we could come get you.”
Carly thrust her chin upward, fighting tears.
“Do you have to be back in court on Monday?”
Carly shook her head, fighting to keep her hurting heart from showing in her voice as she explained that the judge had dismissed her until next month’s trial, where Eaton would be the one raked over the coals, and, as witness, Carly would provide the ammo. She was free to return home.
“Why don’t you come here? You shouldn’t be alone right now. I’ll make some homemade cornbread and chilli for you.”
The urge to go home for her favorite meal and a hug was so strong she could barely breathe. “I have a farm to take care of.” Brant had taken care of her animals overnight, but asking for more right now felt like too much.
“We worry about you.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Her mother laughed, surprising her.
“What?” Carly asked.
“It’s our job to worry.” The humor had left and Carly heard the weight of truth in her mom’s voice. She worried her daughter would struggle to follow her dreams, and be hurt or disappointed in the process. That she’d face unsafe situations as a woman, and that the color of her skin would mean she’d encounter prejudice and racism. That she’d have to work harder than some, or that she’d be treated unfairly. That she’d have her heart broken or get sick. Carly knew she’d have the same worries for her own children one day, but it didn’t make it any easier, having her mother fret. It wouldn’t be as hard on her mom if she’d stayed closer to home and found a simple, steady career.
“I know it’s your job, but I don’t make it easy on you.”
“I love that about you.”
Carly blinked in surprise. “You do?”
Carlotta’s voice lilted with her faint, singsong accent as she said, “You don’t listen to us or let our worries hold you back. You’re independent and strong. And yes, you’ll have the door smacked shut in your face sometimes, but look at you.” Her tone warmed and deepened. “You’re persistent. You get up every time someone knocks you down. Nobody’s going to hold my girl back. Not for long!” Her voice lowered again, as though she was in awe. “And a landowner, Carly?” She was the first in the family, but only because her grandmother had left her a windfall that she’d been awarded in a lawsuit. “I couldn’t be more proud.”
“Or more worried.”
Carlotta laughed, deep and rich. “It’s worth seeing you out there in the world, not giving u
p. Your father and I aren’t as brave as you are. We’re old and tired.”
“You are not!” Carly said indignantly, making her laugh again.
“We love you, Carly.”
“I know. And I love you, too.”
“Will you come home tonight?”
“I…” She heaved a sigh, thinking about Ryan. The longer she waited, the worse it would be. “I think I’d better go back to Texas.”
“You need to be with Coach Wylder?” Carly felt her mouth drop open. “I saw him on TV today. It didn’t even look like the win registered with him. He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”
“How do you know?”
Her mother gave a huff of satisfaction, making Carly realize she’d just confirmed her suspicion about her feelings for Ryan. Although the number of times she’d mentioned him during their weekly phone calls was likely a giveaway, too. “Keep being that trusting, bossy woman and he won’t be able to resist.” Her mom chuckled.
“Bossy?” Carly shrugged it off. She kind of could be.
“Go in with your heart open.”
“Being trusting is what keeps getting me into trouble, Mom.”
“I’ve heard the way you talk about him. Let me know when you’ve made it back to your farm. We’ll see you there a few days after Christmas. I can’t wait to see it.”
Carly ended the call and took a deep breath, then tapped on Ryan’s contact info before she lost courage.
She put the ringing phone to her ear and shifted in her seat to peer across the street through the Montana twilight. It was bitterly cold and felt bleak despite the cheery Christmas lights decorating the street, and she longed to be back on her ranch.
Ryan should be home by now, the long drive complete. The community’s late-afternoon potluck over, although, for some, the celebrations might continue on into the night.
As the phone continued to ring, Carly wondered if she had it in her to fight one more time today. Did she have the energy and drive to tell her side of the story if Ryan picked up? She’d have to dig deep and find it.
When her call went to voice mail, Carly suspected Ryan was ignoring her. She was used to him picking up right away, and his voice becoming lighter when he discovered it was her. She lowered her silent phone, blinking back tears.
She’d fought the past today. Now she needed to fight for the future.
She booked the first flight to San Antonio she could find, left a tip despite not touching her meal, then called Jackie to see if she could pick her up at the airport. Jackie said she and April would meet her there in a few hours.
It was midnight when Carly, staggering from exhaustion, but bolstered by the support of her friends, knocked on the door at Ryan’s place. The sunny yellow house, a small, two-bedroom single-story, nestled under two towering oaks in the heart of Sweetheart Creek. His dog Joe came to the front window and stood on the back of a couch, barking.
“What?” The terse reply came through the closed door. Ryan’s gravelly voice didn’t hold its normal warmth and Carly felt that familiar hurt of being shut out, of her issues not being worth bothering someone over.
“I heard about the game,” she called through the door. “Congratulations.”
Ryan cracked it open and slid a shoulder through the gap. Under the glow of the porch light he looked ragged and beaten. Not like someone who’d finally defeated his ex, or brought a major win to his hometown. When the dog tried to sneak past, Ryan shooed him back inside with a few curt commands, and Joe promptly reappeared in the window.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t stay.”
“I needed you.”
“I’m sorry.” She dropped her eyes, feeling guilty for not being up-front about her court date. She should have forced herself to blurt out the truth weeks ago.
“You left without warning,” he said, his voice revealing hurt and disappointment that had her fighting tears. “Without even a goodbye.”
“I didn’t know until just before the game. I didn’t want to add any uncertainty about me leaving to your plate. If it hadn’t been for the streakers delaying the game, I could have stayed to the end.” She rubbed her eyes. The game felt like it had happened weeks ago. “I had to leave. It was the only way I could catch my flight to Montana. I’m sorry.”
“Is that where you went? Montana?”
“Yes.” She waited for him to ask why.
“For a family emergency?”
She shook her head, waiting, hoping he’d care enough to keep digging.
“And you’re back. Already.”
“Yes.”
“Because we won?” He was watching her like a spooked animal.
“No, because I love you. Because…” Words failed her. She was scared. She wanted to be that woman her mother saw, and she wanted to be strong enough to try again with Ryan. But a part of her wondered if she was just delaying the inevitable pain. He’d never allowed her into his life all the way, and she’d never trusted him with the full version of herself.
How could they do better if there was a next time?
“How do you know Priscilla?” Ryan asked suddenly.
“I don’t. I met her for the first time today. Please, Ryan. I’m sorry.”
“I trusted you. I needed you. You left me without any kind of explanation.”
“I know.” His look was hard and unforgiving, the hurt obvious. She felt herself become defensive even though she knew it wouldn’t make anything better. She was tired of him being the one in control of where they went with their relationship and where their conversations went. “You made it clear we weren’t allowed to share certain parts of our lives with each other.”
A truck zipped past in the dark, music blaring, teens hanging out the windows.
“Put on your seatbelts,” Ryan bellowed, hands cupped around his mouth.
A girl yelled back, “Hi, Mr. Wylder! Macey thinks you’re cute!”
He was frowning after the truck. “Someone’s going to get hurt tonight.” He was reaching inside the doorway for his Jeep’s keys. “Hernandez got the scholarship and now they all think they’re invincible.”
“What are you doing? Are you leaving?” He had closed his door and was standing there as though waiting for her to leave.
“Look, this isn’t a good time.”
“Ryan, it will never be a good time. If I walk away it’s going to be over. I know you. I know me. Did you ever think to ask what might be going on in my life that I had to take a fifteen-hundred-mile flight at the drop of a hat? No, because you’re afraid to know me, afraid to let me in. Afraid my painful past might trump yours.”
He looked at her in surprise. Nervously, she brushed a curl away from her face, Ryan’s gaze locking on her ring for one brief second.
His expression blanked, tone flat and emotionless when he said, “This relationship changed who we are.”
The relationship had changed her, too, but for the better. She was stronger now. She could see where she needed to go, who to become. But she hated this part where she felt weak and without control.
“You said you loved me, but you’re too afraid to know all of me, afraid you might really and truly become attached. We’re not at our best when we’re not sharing with each other. That’s not a relationship, Ryan.”
He was frowning down the street in the direction the truck had gone, the sound of music and laughter coming closer again. He gave a resigned shake of his head. “I’ve got to talk to these kids. Call Conroy.” He took the steps two at a time, jogging toward the street.
“Who’s Conroy?”
“The sheriff. Tell him the kids’ celebrations are getting out of control and someone’s gonna get hurt.”
Someone already had, but not in the way he predicted.
Ryan, having flagged down the truck of partying kids to give them a verbal warning to play safe, leaned against the closed door of his house and exhaled.
Carly.
He’d always known it wouldn’t work out.
Unable t
o sit, and knowing he’d be unable to sleep, he slipped into his running shoes and, despite the late hour, clipped Joe to his leash and started jogging down the sidewalks of Sweetheart Creek. He pushed his pace, trying to block the picture of Carly’s bedraggled appearance from his mind. The deep shadows under her eyes and the sheer exhaustion that had left her swaying on his front step struck him with every step. She hadn’t looked like that this morning.
He had won, so why did he feel as though he’d lost? Won against Priscilla at long last, brought home the championship title, and yet it all felt so meaningless.
He wanted to say he’d given up his hard-earned and vitally important stay-alone mind-set the moment he’d met Carly. But her words about him not asking about what mattered in her life told him he’d failed. He’d tried to give himself to her while retaining his independence, but had ended up with a mess.
He wanted to say the game mattered most. It had been what he’d been working toward for five seasons. But without Carly there to hoist the trophy with him, without Carly there to talk to the press, to join the community potluck, or even just share a we-did-it smile…
What was the point?
Barely able to breathe any longer due to his punishing pace, he turned up the sidewalk to a small house a few blocks from his own. It was Luanne’s Blackburn’s old bungalow, the one Laura had been renting since early autumn, and had moved out after Thanksgiving.
The Wylders had moved April into the place that same day with a swiftness that still had Ryan’s head reeling, and likely her husband’s, too. Meanwhile, his brother was living out on the ranch. So what was Ryan doing here?
He bent over on the front walk, hands on his knees, breathing hard, heart pounding in his chest. He straightened and kept moving, pacing the short sidewalk.
The front door opened, and Ryan closed his eyes, tipping his head back. The last thing he needed was kind and caring April, with her no-nonsense attitude, asking him about State, or Carly, or pretty much anything. April had grown up among the Wylder boys and, unlike most others in his family, she didn’t fear asking him tough questions.
As the door gently clicked shut and the sound of shuffling feet echoed on the porch steps, Ryan made himself look up to face April.