The next batter, Corbin Noland, headed for the batter’s box and the stands settled.
Isaac blinked several times and moisture fell to his cheeks. “What …?” He brushed it away, but the burning sensation only intensified. “Gah!” He ripped the specs off and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes.
“What is it?” Shipley asked.
“I can’t see. My eyes are burning.” Isaac couldn’t pry his lids open.
“Doc!” yelled Shipley.
The announcer went at it again: Folks, it looks like Coach Wolfe has been injured. He’s being led from the dugout by the medical team. We’ll keep you posted. In the meantime, that’s the final out for the Redrocks and we’re headed into the top of the sixth inning.
Isaac cursed as Doc Burningham laid him out on a padded table. “Hold on a sec while I put on some gloves.”
Isaac nodded, his arm across his eyes.
“I’ll call your wife,” said someone else.
“No—she needs to focus on the game.” One of them needed to be on top of things. If he couldn’t be out there, Harper should be.
“Don’t be stupid,” said Harper from right next to him. Her soft fingers enveloped his hand and she brushed his hair off his forehead. He had no idea where his hat ended up. He relaxed into her touch and somehow the pain lessened.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I’m taking care of my husband.”
“Who’s coaching?”
She laughed lightly. “Not me.”
“Harper.” His voice was pleading. “Please tell me the score.”
“It’s still tied. That was quite the inning.”
“It was.” Isaac allowed himself to grin. “I found Blake’s motivation.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, Elise.”
Somewhere beyond their little circle, something crashed to the floor. Harper’s hand tightened around his. “How do you know?”
“I told him if he hit a double I’d lift the ban on dating employees.” His confession was met with silence. “You don’t approve?”
Harper’s hand went through his hair. “I do, but Elise may not.”
“No, it’s fine,” came Elise’s voice.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were there.” Isaac motioned to his closed eyes.
“What’s that smell?” asked the doctor.
“It’s menthol cream,” replied Elise. “He must have gotten it in his eyes.”
Doc Burningham tsked. “Thirty minutes of rinsing with distilled water should do the trick. Hold still, I’m going to put something like a contact in your eye. The liquid will run from the tube attached to the lens and into your eye and flush it out.”
“Thirty minutes!” Isaac tried to sit up, but Harper pressed against him to hold him down. “The game could be over by then.” He tried to sit up again and was rewarded with Harper’s body held against his. His hand moved to the back of her head.
“You’re officially excused, Coach,” she whispered in his ear.
“Are you going to stay right here the whole time?”
“If you want me to.”
“Oh, I want you.”
“If you’ll scoot back a little, Mrs. Wolfe, so I can get these in his eyes, you two can have the room to yourself.” Doc Burningham’s tone was light.
Elise giggled.
Harper kissed just below his ear. “Be good,” she admonished.
“Never,” he replied, knowing that was just what she wanted to hear.
24
San Diego had the stadium scheduled for the day, but Isaac had called the team in, telling them to wear comfortable clothes. They’d lost the Thursday and Friday night games, and won the Saturday afternoon game despite Isaac’s mishap with the menthol cream. He attributed their win to Blake Rygs. He swung at every good pitch and landed on base more times in that game than he had in the two previous games. He whooped and bounced around and changed the whole atmosphere in the dugout. Isaac hoped the outing he had planned for the day would strengthen the sense of team.
“Heads up!” he barked as he stepped into the locker room. The guys stopped what they were doing and turned his way. “We’re going to take a little field trip today. Meet me on the bus in five minutes.”
“What if we’re late? Do we get left behind?” called Jackson from his corner. Fitting that he’d chosen the corner locker, because his attitude and poor performance were painting him into a corner. He couldn’t see the effects of his self-destructive behavior. The other guys were starting to notice, though. None of them had called Jackson out for the crap he pulled, but they gave him the cold shoulder.
Isaac would love nothing more than to leave the jerk behind, but even the jerk was a member of the team. “If you’re late, the team is late. So don’t be late.” Isaac hoped he put off an unconcerned air, because he dreaded dealing with Jackson today. The guy could taint a mood like a wet infield on a white uniform. He shoved the thoughts aside and made his way out to the bus.
Harper sat in the front seat, wearing the hiking pants and Redrocks T-shirt he’d had sent to her office that morning. She’d braided her hair back and there was a line of sunscreen on her cheek. “Hey.” He grinned.
Her eyes brightened. “Hey, yourself.”
He took the open seat next to her and brushed his thumb down her cheek. “You had a line.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks reddened and she scrubbed her face with her palms. “I swear the sun is stronger here.”
“It’s the desert air. No moisture.” It was only the beginning of June, but southern Utah was plenty hot. He dreaded playing in the August heat.
“So what’s all this?” She motioned to her clothing and then the bus.
He leaned close and whispered, “We’re playing hooky.”
“We should have taken your Harley,” she whispered back.
His pulse kicked up; he loved the idea of riding off with Harper. “We’re not going alone.”
“Hi, Mrs. Wolfe.” Brian boarded the bus and took the seat right behind them. Rex Barns and Ross Ketcham followed. Then Blake. They all greeted Harper with a tip of their ball caps or a small wave before finding a seat. Many of them had earbuds in, the wires bouncing off their chests as they walked.
Jackson wasn’t the last one on the bus, but he wasn’t in a hurry either. Isaac gave him credit for showing up. Once everyone was on board, including the coaching staff, he told the driver they were ready.
The bus lumbered over the speed bumps and into traffic, taking them onto I-15 and through the center of St. George.
Isaac stood up. “All right, everyone. Are any of you from Utah?”
No one raised their hand.
“Great.” The bus took the Bluff Street exit, making Isaac swerve where he stood. Harper reached out and put her hand on his hip to stead him. Their connection ping-ponged between them. Working to hold back the desire building inside, he continued with his speech. “Utah is home to some of the best rappelling opportunities in the states.”
“Rappelling—like off cliffs?” asked Ricky Ortiz.
“Exactly like that,” replied Isaac. He’d spent several hours with the team psychologist coming up with a team-building activity. They’d discussed everything from channeling the guys’ natural competitive edge with go-cart races to a touchy-feely weekend at a resort where they got massages and had group discussions. While either of those options would provide the opportunity for the men to pal around, they wouldn’t require them to rely on one another. Rappelling would put their lives in each other’s hands.
“Isn’t it dangerous?” asked Zack Aden. “I mean, I’m no wimp, but I don’t want to do something that would injure my arm.”
Harper nodded, her eyes clouded with concern. He understood her dilemma. These men were the team’s largest investment. If one of them were placed on the injured roster because of today—he’d be in a lot of trouble. The pitchers had the strictest contracts regarding behavior both during the season and off seas
on. They weren’t allowed to ride motorcycles or participate in risky behavior until their contracts were up.
“There will be instructors and guides there to make sure everything we do today we do safely. In addition, I ask you all to be cautious and pay attention.”
“I don’t get it—why are we doing this?” shouted Jackson. He’d taken a seat in the middle of the bus, his legs across the seat next to him and his feet in the aisle.
“We’re doing this because being a team is more than wearing the same uniform.” He pointed to Zack. “Name one thing about Zack that doesn’t have to do with baseball.”
Zack was in the seat behind Blake. He straightened up.
Blake opened his mouth and closed it again before saying, “I think he has a cat.”
Zack shook his head. “I have a kid.”
Blake flipped around. “You do?”
“Yeah—he’s three.”
“Sorry, man.”
“Don’t worry about it,” interjected Isaac. “That’s what we’re here for.” He ducked down and looked at the red cliffs towering above the bus. “Your assignment today is to learn something new about the guy who is holding your rope.” The psychologist, David Norris, handed him a clipboard just as the bus came to a stop. They’d spend an hour the night before creating pairs. David suggested pairing them up based not on the positions they played but on what he’d gleaned about their lives. Brian Tuttle would partner with Jackie Green, who had divorced several years ago. Blake, all smitten with Elise, was paired with Otto Rodrigues, who was a family guy through and through. Isaac hoped that they would recognize their similarities and—for lack of a less cheesy word—bond.
The doors hissed open and a guy in tight cargo shorts and a man bun jumped aboard. He rubbed his palms together. “Who’s ready to jump off a cliff?”
No one reacted at first. Isaac’s optimistic enthusiasm took a solid hit. He plowed forward. “Rygs and Rodrigues—you’re together.”
They stood and made their way off the bus, where they were greeted by another guy—this one had long blond dreadlocks and two harnesses. “Let’s get you two suited up.” They nodded and followed him towards a camp table full of gear.
Isaac continued to call out pairs. Jackson was with Pablo Santacruz, the batting coach. Neither looked happy with the arrangement, but they needed some time together—even if Jackson didn’t show up for batting practice.
When he was done, their skinny welcome club stepped back on the bus. “You two are mine.”
Harper gave him an uncertain smile.
“I hope it’s okay that we’re together,” Isaac said as she slid past him to the bus steps.
Harper craned her neck to look over the edge of the cliff, which was fifteen feet away. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”
To the side was a hill with a forty-five-degree angle where several pairs of players were practicing their technique before attempting the big drop. Ricky Ortiz looked like he was about to throw up. Other guys were swigging water, and still others were finding harnesses and listening to instructors cover the basic knot.
“Are you afraid of heights?” Isaac had worried about that with some of the players. It was an honest-to-goodness phobia and he hadn’t wanted to embarrass anyone. David had assured him they would be fine. However, neither man had asked Harper.
Harper laughed. “No.”
“Then what is it?”
She picked up a harness, slid it up and around her beautiful body, tightened it, and clipped on a hook. “I’m worried that I’ll show you up in front of your team.”
“Oh snap.” Isaac gave her the up-and-down. “Is that a challenge?”
“That’s a challenge.”
He reached past her, brushing his arm across her side as he grabbed a harness. “You’re on.”
“Bring it.” She slid her sunglasses on and walked confidently to the anchor for the big drop.
“We’re starting here?” he asked, his voice involuntarily cracking at the end.
Harper smirked. “Unless you want to start on the bunny hill.”
“Have you done this before?” asked their guide. The faded embroidery on his dark green shirt said Jeremy.
“Once, in high school. At camp,” Harper replied. “It was fun.”
Jeremy nodded. “And you?” he asked Isaac.
“Never.”
“In that case, you can go first.”
“What?”
“There’s a guide at the bottom who will belay for you.” He continued explaining the process while hooking things to Isaac’s harness and slipping a rope through. “Red is dead,” he said, showing him how the part of the clip under the twisty thing was red. “If you can see red, you aren’t hooked in right.”
“Red is dead,” Isaac repeated. So comforting.
“This rope goes in your right fist. If you want to slow down or stop, you tighten your grip.” He handed Isaac a set of rubber-palmed gloves. “This will protect your skin.”
“Thanks.” He shimmied his sweaty hands inside.
Jeremy continued as he handed gloves and a helmet to Harper. “Think thumb-to-bum.” He placed his closed fist on his right butt cheek. “You don’t want your hand out to the side or above your waist. Keep it tucked right here and you’ll stay in control. This rope goes in your left hand. It’s attached to the anchor up here.”
“Got it.” All thoughts of checking in with the team evaporated. He was about to drop over a hundred-foot cliff—it was every man for themselves.
“Come on over and let’s get you going.”
Isaac silently cursed himself and David for coming up with this idea. His hands slid all over inside the gloves, covered in sweat. His feet weren’t faring any better inside his hiking shoes, and he had never been so thankful for moisture-wicking technology in clothing.
Jeremy checked the anchor and rope. “Belay!” he called over the edge.
“Belay on!” came the answer.
Isaac’s hand found Harper’s and he held on.
“You okay?” she asked. “You look kind of pale.”
“If I don’t make it back, will you tell Logan I love him?”
She laughed and pushed his shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. You might even have some fun.”
“Heh heh heh.” He couldn’t muster up a response.
“Oh—our assignment. What’s something I should know about you that doesn’t have to do with baseball?” Harper grinned up at him, her dark eyes dancing.
Maybe it was the sense of impending doom, but Isaac threw caution to the wind and pressed a hard kiss to Harper’s lips. “I love you,” he said before turning his back on the drop-off and feeding rope through his clip. He moved slowly, inching his way over the edge and focusing on what he was doing. His last image of Harper was of her standing with her hands at her sides and her jaw hanging down. If nothing else, at least this exercise had brought things into focus for him.
* * *
Harper stared at the rope that held her husband suspended over a canyon floor made of compacted and petrified dirt. She dropped to her hands and knees and approached the edge—Isaac’s pronouncement of love had taken her to her knees.
He looked down several times, hanging in the harness like he was sitting in a chair, and feeding rope through the clip. He made good progress, pausing now and again to breathe deeply. When he reached bottom, he lifted his arms over his head and yelled. Several of the guys whooped back—huge grins across their faces. Harper laughed and waved. She’d never felt so high, and it had everything to do with Isaac’s kiss and I love you and nothing to do with her location.
Isaac loved her.
She couldn’t wait to get down there and kiss him back.
While Jeremy checked over everything in preparation for her descent, she watched what was happening around her.
Blake and Otto were in deep conversation, gesturing widely. Jimmy and Ross were laughing as they teased each other about who would wet their pants on the big drop. T
hey argued over who had to go first and be at the bottom. Jackson and Coach Santacruz weren’t even looking at each other. They were several feet apart and Jackson was on his phone. She narrowed her eyes. He could at least make an effort. But then, if she thought she would be moving on at the end of the season, how much effort would she put in?
More than that!
Besides, Isaac was only here for a year and he worked his wonderful back end off for this team. She shook her head and smiled, wondering when he’d become the man she measured every other man against.
“Looks like your husband is going to belay for you.”
Harper hugged herself. “Great!”
“You ready?”
“I’m so ready.” She bounced on her toes.
“Okay, don’t try to break any records, all right? Our first goal is safety.”
“Don’t worry,” she said as she straightened her legs and fed rope through the clip, taking her out at a 90-degree angle. “I got this.” Last time she’d rappelled, her knees had collapsed against the cliff and she’d had to muscle her feet back to the edge. This time, there was no fear. All she could think about was getting down to Isaac.
She bounced off the lip and let rope slide through her right hand. As she applied pressure, she swung back towards the cliff. Catching herself on the balls of her feet, she bounced off and repeated the process until Isaac’s arms caught her like a cradle and she let go of the rope.
Breathless, she wrapped her arms around her neck and kissed him with all she had. “I love you too,” she said against his lips.
Isaac spun them around.
“Hey, man! Don’t twist the ropes,” admonished the guide who had belayed for Isaac.
“Sorry,” Isaac muttered against her lips. He set her down and the guide worked around the two of them kissing to unhook Harper.
“Sheesh!” He stepped away and the call came: “Belay on!”
They slowed things down to a tender and sensual exchange of the love between them. All thoughts of contracts and deadlines and anything that wasn’t related to the feeling of being held by Isaac dropped away. Dandelion fuzzies floated everywhere, brushing her skin.
The Athletic Groom: Billionaire Marriage Brokers Page 19