The Ranger

by Julia Justiss

  Elaine and Tom were great neighbors to her. He sensed that Abby would make her a good friend too. Another resource—if something or someone menacing showed up.

  While attending the homecoming activities, he’d also see if he could turn up any more clues about what ‘something big’ that snake Thomason had planned for the property he was buying up.

  Brice had left Austin in time to arrive before the football game started, so the pregame festivities were just about to begin when he pulled his truck into the hometown side’s parking lot. He bought a ticket, a corn dog and some chili cheese fries at the concession stand, then headed up to the grandstand, looking to meet Duncan, Harrison, Grant, Abby and Katie. While he paused at the bottom of the steps, scanning the crowd to find his family, a skitter of excitement went through him. Sitting beside Abby, in an attractive cotton dress with a short sweater, was Mary Williams.

  Talk about two birds and one stone, he thought, grinning as he climbed the metal steps.

  Abby spotted him halfway up and waved. “Hi, Brice! You’re just in time. The introduction of the Homecoming Royal Court is about to begin.”

  After greetings all around, Duncan said to Mary, “Back when we were in high school, they would crown a homecoming queen and king at a high school dance on Saturday night. Kids nowadays, being more cosmopolitan and inclusive, instead of princesses, a queen and a king, the student body nominates a ‘royalty court’ that can include any ten students the kids think are the most helpful and influential in the school.” He laughed. “Though as a former homecoming king, Brice probably regrets the passing of that ritual.”

  “Naw, I’m not that much of a dinosaur,” Brice objected. “Observing more Texas traditions, Mary?”

  Abby patted Mary on the shoulder. “I persuaded her that if she wanted to get to know Texas, she had to come to Friday night high school football. I told her it’s a regional tradition and almost the whole town turns out for the home games, even when it’s not Homecoming weekend.”

  Mary looked around. “Grade school kids playing tag behind the stands, parents of players huddled behind the benches, young couples with babies, old folks—it really is a cross section of everyone from town.”

  “But I think she really came so she could chat with Katie,” Abby said.

  “Mommy wouldn’t let me bring lemonade, even though mine is better than what they sell. She said I had to buy it at the concession stand, to help the high school.”

  “That’s right,” Grant said. “Chili cheese fries and corn dogs,” he continued, pointing to Brice’s refreshments. “How many millions did Miss Dorothy cook for the Booster Club when you were playing high school football?”

  “Millions, for sure. I used to think, sitting on the bench while the defense was on the field, how great they smelled.”

  “She always saved a batch for you for after the game, though.”

  “That she did. What a fine woman.”

  Brice sat down beside Katie and Mary. “Do you follow professional football?” he asked Mary.

  “No. Actually, I don’t know much about football.”

  Putting down his cheese fries, Brice clapped a hand to his heart. “Don’t know about football! Sweetheart, we better school you up quick. Not understanding football could get you run out of Texas.”

  “Start her out easy,” Duncan advised. “Save discussion of shotgun formations, veer defense, and running a skinny post for later.”

  Mary looked at him blankly. “Those are plays, I assume?”

  Brice and Duncan looked at each other. “This is more serious than I thought. You better get started immediately,” Duncan said.

  “Why don’t you tell me what you already know, and I’ll fill in some of the gaps?” Brice said.

  “There are two teams. Offense and defense. The quarterback gets the ball on offense and tries to make plays. The team with the ball wants to move it down the field across the goal line and score a touchdown. The team on defense wants to stop them.”

  “Okay, that’s a start. Since the quarterback is key to the offense, the type of play a team runs usually depends on his best skill set. If he’s an excellent passer, they’ll do more passing plays. If he’s a better runner than passer, they’ll do a mix with more handoffs to running backs, or ‘quarterback keepers,’ where he runs the ball himself. And as you said, the job of the defense is to stop them from making plays. Once the game starts, I can explain as it goes along.”

  By the end of that long speech, Mary was staring at him. “You’re really serious about this.”

  “Sweetheart, this is Texas. Football is serious business here. As is supporting the cheerleaders by chanting the cheers with them and singing the school song at the end of the game.”

  She looked at him like he’d been out in the heat too long. “Right.”

  For the first and second quarters, Brice explained the plays. Initially looking indifferent, as the game went on, she began to catch the crowd’s excitement, and her questions became more enthusiastic.

  At halftime, while the marching band took the field for their performance, Katie and Abby went off to get a hot dog and some fries.

  “Remind me which position you played?” Mary asked.

  “Right or left offensive guard. You’ll remember the one in the middle of the line who hikes the ball—that’s the center. The players on either side of him are the tackles, the players outside them are the guards. Their job is to block the defenders trying to get to the quarterback before he can throw the ball or hand it off to a running back.”

  “That’s right—you told me before, the guard protects the play.”

  “Or the players.”

  “Keeping them safe.”

  “Exactly. It’s kind of a badge of honor among guards and tackles to have your quarterback finish a game without getting grass stains on his uniform. Course, frustrating defenders who are trash-talking you and breathing curses in your face is fun too.”

  She laughed. “Protect your teammates, annoy the opposition?”

  He smiled. “That’s right. Annoyed and angry people sometimes get over-aggressive, out of position, or just plain forget what they’re supposed to be doing.”

  “So you have lots of tactics up your sleeve.”

  “Many weapons make speedy work.”

  “I thought it was many hands make light work,” she said dryly.

  “That too.”

  “Hey, Brice! I hoped I’d see you here.”

  He looked up to see one of his former football teammates waving, then weaving through the crowd toward them. “Hey, Trey. Good to see you,” Brice said as the man halted beside them.

  “Good to see you, too.” Trey angled his gaze down at Mary with a questioning look.

  Responding to the unspoken request, Brice said, “Mary Williams, this is Trey Grayson, who played quarterback my first two years in high school. Trey, Mary’s the reference librarian at the town library and our teammate, Tom Edgerton’s, neighbor.”

  After they nodded and exchanged ‘nice to meet yous,’ Mary said, “You’re the one whose jersey Brice tried to keep free of grass stains.”

  Trey laughed. “That’s right. He did a fair job for an underclassman. A much better one with my successor. Made all-state his junior and senior year. Harley Dodson got very few grass stains on his jersey.”

  “What are you up to lately?” Brice asked.

  “I drive back pretty much every weekend. My nephew is the quarterback now. I’ve seen you around town a few times, not close enough to hail. You’ve been back more often lately haven’t you?” The look he gave Brice over Mary’s head indicated he thought she might be the reason.

  “Been doing some consulting with my brothers about the ranch,” he said vaguely. “Security stuff.”

  “Well, you’d know about that. Better get a soda and get back to my seat. Second half’s about to start. Nice to meet you, ma’am. Enjoy the game!”

  Maybe he was back in Whiskey River more than usual, Brice tho
ught. But he did need to keep poking around about the land sales—he’d found enough to fuel his suspicions and keep him going. And he did want to get to know Mary better—so he could make sure she was protected.

  Of course, he liked her. And he was damn sure attracted to her. But he wasn’t interested in getting involved, despite what Trey was hinting.

  Well, he wouldn’t mind being involved, as long as it was casual, nothing serious. He’d let his brothers do the marriage thing. He liked his freedom, not having anyone expecting him to be around every damn day like a lapdog, liked going where he liked, when he liked, without having to account to anyone for where he was and what he was doing. It was one of the things that had appealed to him about being a Ranger. Not being tied to one town, one area.

  But looking down at Mary, who’d started talking with a just-returned Katie while he finished his chat with Trey, he was pretty sure she didn’t do casual hookups. She was too private a person to let someone she knew only casually get that close to her.

  The man who became her lover would have to earn the right. And be worthy of it.

  Good thing he was mostly just interested in protecting her. Mostly. Then maybe, if they both wanted it, becoming closer friends.

  After the second half started, he had her tell him what she saw in the plays. “It really is complex!” she said after a few series.

  “Yes, that’s what I like about football. All great sports require athletes to hone skills and learn strategy. Football just has so many more pieces that can fit together to make things work—or take them apart. The skill of the players, the timing of the plays—one second too soon or too late and you miss a handoff, or the receiver’s not in the right spot to make a catch. The vast variety of plays that can be run on offense to move the ball, on defense to break up plays. Having to make snap decisions in seconds when something doesn’t go right, how to recover and turn it, if possible, into an advantage. Or at least prevent disaster.”

  “Somebody needs to make a chart of that for real life,” she said.

  Something about the sudden bleakness on her face made him suspect she was recalling events in her own life that had ended in disaster. Was that why she’d come here, to free herself from the bonds of a past destroyed by trauma?

  “It would be nice, wouldn’t it? But there will never be a playbook for all of them. That’s why the game’s played by a team. You don’t have to solve all the problems alone. Your teammates have your back, they watch out for you like you do for them, and you attack problems together.” He looked into her eyes, hoping she understood he meant a lot more than football.

  “Teamwork’s a good thing, I guess.”

  “Usually. Sometimes it’s hard to accept help. You want to do it all yourself. But it’s almost always better to take that helping hand when it’s offered.”

  “If it’s offered by someone you can trust.”

  “Someone who’s earned your trust,” he confirmed.

  Was he getting any closer to earning hers? Elaine had vouched for him and Bunny was his enthusiastic advocate, but Mary had to come to the conclusion that he was in fact trustworthy herself. Somehow, it had become really important to him that she did come to trust him. That she would be willing to put him on her team. As a friend. Maybe, eventually, as something more.

  What else could he do to help her toward that belief?

  Find and seize more opportunities to be with her. And hope, until she was ready to initiate meetings herself, that he continued to encounter her in town.

  Another good reason to be around more often.

  The game turned out to be a nail-biter, going down to the final minutes of the last quarter—where the opponent’s linebacker managed to intercept Whiskey River’s quarterback with the team backed up on their own twenty-yard line and run it in for the scoop and score, tying the game as time expired.

  Mary, who’d jumped to her feet with the rest of the crowed, turned to him. “What happens now? The game ends in a tie?”

  “No, it goes to overtime. There’s another coin toss, the winner getting to choose to play offense or defense, the loser picking which side of the field the ball is placed on.”

  “Wouldn’t the winner always want to play offense?” Mary asked.

  “Usually they want to play defense. So they know how many points their offense will need to score to win.”

  “Okay. But what difference does it make what end of the field the ball is on? Doesn’t seem like the loser gets to make a very useful choice.”

  “You pick the end of the field where most of your fans sit. So they will holler, stomp, clap, and generally make noise that distracts the opponent’s offense and makes it harder for them to hear the play calls.”

  “Ah, I see. Strategy,” she said with a nod.

  “Always,” Brice confirmed. “Looks like we won the toss, and yup, we’re going to play defense first. You ready to holler?”

  “As a loyal Whiskey River resident, it’s my patriotic duty, right?”

  Enjoying the sense of camaraderie, he said, “Absolutely.”

  The game went to three overtimes, the home team finally winning. Cheering, the brothers pounded each other on the back while the crowd hollered and whistled. “Phew, that one was way too close,” Duncan said as they started walking out.

  “I feel for the players on the opposing team,” Mary said. “It must be tough to play your heart out for four quarters and three overtimes and then lose.”

  “It’s never easy to lose when you’ve played your heart out, no matter what the score,” Brice said.

  Once again, sadness shadowed her eyes. “You’re right about that.”

  When and where had she played her heart out and lost? More driven than ever, he felt driven to discover the cause of the melancholy he sensed behind her smile.

  He walked with her group to the parking lot, trying to figure out how he might get to see her again, and not coming up with any smart ideas.

  Then, as he halted beside her car to bid her good night, she said, “I was thinking . . . Elaine and Tom are going to a get-together tomorrow night with friends in town for homecoming. Bunny’s going to come over to spend the night. Would you like to join us for dinner? You’d get a chance to use those cobalt-blue tumblers I bought at Old Man Tessel’s. I wouldn’t have found the place but for you, so I figure I owe you. Bunny would love to have you, I know.”

  His initial soar of delight abruptly nosedived. “I don’t want it to be an obligation.” Then, taking a risk, he added, “I only want to join you if it would be a . . . pleasure. For you, as well as for Bunny.”

  Looking surprised by his comment and uncertain, she hesitated.

  Way to go, stupid, he thought. Should have just said “thank you” and accepted. Then, while he waited for her to say “never mind, then,” she said instead, “Okay. It would be a pleasure to have you join us for dinner.”

  He couldn’t help the broad smile that sprang to his lips. “Never could refuse a lady who asks so nicely. What time would you like me to arrive?”

  So exuberant, he almost didn’t hear the time she mentioned, he exchanged a goodbye and headed back to his truck.

  It was the first time she’d made an overture that neither he nor Bunny had maneuvered her into. Jettisoning the vague plans he’d made about joining Grant and Duncan at the town picnic without a qualm, he couldn’t wait until Saturday night.

  Chapter Seven

  The next afternoon, Mary kept telling herself not to be nervous. Brice McAllister had been to her house for dinner before.

  Yes, except that time, Bunny forced you into it. This time you asked him of your own free will.

  But she did owe him a favor. She was just being . . . neighborly.

  Would he think she was encouraging him? Was she encouraging him?

  Shoot, he was an attractive, interesting man. What was wrong with becoming friends? He hadn’t signaled he wanted anything more than that.

  Despite what her long-denied senses were
whispering.

  But that was a dead end, so no chance of going there.

  Finally, she told herself to stop dithering. A darling little girl was coming over to help her simmer tomato sauce and make pasta noodles from scratch. Bunny would be delighted and fascinated by the entire process. She loved her uncle Brice and he loved her, so he’d be entirely content just to watch her enjoying it.

  There wouldn’t be any awkward moments alone with him.

  It would be fine. He did make her laugh, after all, just like Bunny predicted. She should just relax and enjoy his company.

  *

  Late that afternoon, the tomato preparation assembly line ready, the ice crushed and in the freezer, the Parmesan shaved, and the pots and baking sheets ready, Mary walked over to get Bunny.

  “Miss Mary!” the little girl cried, waving at her as soon as she walked into the Edgertons’ backyard. “I’m so excited! Mommy, we’re going to make tomato sauce and noodles and everything!”

  “Honestly, I almost had to tie her to the back porch, she’s been so eager to come over,” Elaine said as Mary walked up the steps. “She would have gotten you out of bed this morning if I’d let her.”

  “That would have been fine,” Mary said, giving the little girl a hug.

  Then Brice walked out from the house, spiking a funny little leap in her heart that she told herself was nerves. “Hi, Brice.”

  “I was eager too. After our last dinner, I can’t wait to taste your homemade tomato sauce and pasta.”

  “We’d better get it started. To make my nonna’s recipe, we should simmer the tomatoes for a whole day, but we’ll make do with several hours. You and Tom have a great time tonight and don’t worry, Elaine. I’ll take good care of Bunny.” Turning back to the child, she said, “We’ll have a great dinner with Uncle Brice and after he leaves, we’ll get in our jammies and have a girls’ night in.”

  “With stories and everything?”

  “Stories and everything.”