Travis

by Duncan Leigh

  Travis expelled a big breath. “That’s one part of coaching I don’t particularly like. Most parents are sure their boy is the next superstar. They think their son would be discovered…if only the coach gave him more playing time. Or paid more attention to him. For a kid like Tommy, it’s not in the cards.”

  He lowered the dish to the granite counter. “I tried to help them see that other aspects of the game are just as important. Sportsmanship. Friendships. The ones the boys form now could last their whole lives.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Do you still have friends from when you were Josh and Tommy’s age?”

  “Yeah. As a matter of fact, Bob Morgan is one of them. He and I played on the same Little League team. I keep in touch with a few others.”

  Courtney ran her hands around the bottom of the sink and came up empty. The last dish had been washed. She pulled the plug. Waiting for the water to drain, she asked, “Do you miss it? Pitching?”

  Travis polished the last dish until it shone before he answered.

  “Coaching helps,” he said finally. “And teaching—I enjoy that a lot more than I expected. Helping young boys and girls reach their potential—even if they’re not ever going to be professional athletes—well, it means more than I thought it could. I like what I’m doing, even though it won’t last much longer.”

  “You mean when you get that call from the Cannons.” She pressed a hand to her fluttering heart.

  “Yeah.” Travis’s brows drew together. “Seems like I’ve spent my whole life waiting for one call or another.”

  Courtney blinked and turned away. She’d known almost from the beginning that forever wasn’t in the cards for them. Deciding there was no point in telling Travis about her past if they didn’t have a future, she wrung out the dishcloth and hung it on the rack.

  “Hey, Manny.” Travis plunked a couple of dollars onto the plywood counter and withdrew a copy of the local paper. He scanned the front page. A tiny blurb announced the arrival of another cruise ship in Port Canaveral. Unable to stop himself, he grinned. With a boatload of tourists disembarking later in the day, he and Courtney would have Coffee on Brevard all to themselves. With Addie, of course. Not that he minded having the little one underfoot. Truth be told, he liked the way the baby usually reached for him.

  Manny slipped the cash into his apron pocket. “There’s a right nice piece in there ’bout that new pitcher the Cannons called up from Triple-A.”

  “I’m more interested in how the Hornets did against the Muck Dogs.” He tucked his purchase under one arm. The sports channels kept him up to date on the latest in the major leagues, but the Sluggers and their rivals didn’t merit a mention on national TV.

  “Hornets by three runs,” Manny quipped. “Couple of pictures of your game, too. I think Ms. Smith’s boy is in one of ’em.” He focused rheumy eyes on the awning that jutted out over the café windows. “I put one aside for her. I was plannin’ on takin’ it to her in a bit.”

  “I’m wise to your ways, old man.” Travis spread his paper open atop the other stacks. “You just want a cuppa joe.”

  “You might be right ’bout that,” Manny answered while Travis paged to the sports section. Sure enough, a photo of Josh’s game-ending play filled one inside corner.

  “I’ll take every copy you have.”

  Imagining the excited look on Josh’s face when the boy saw his picture in the paper, Travis dug for his wallet. He’d been right about Josh and baseball. The deeper the Sluggers got into the season, the more control the boy demonstrated—both on and off the field. That didn’t mean the kid never lost his cool. All boys and girls got angry or upset once in a while. But baseball had been good for Josh.

  A spot beneath Travis’s breastbone warmed. He’d help turn the boy around. Were there other, equally important aspects of Josh’s life he could influence?

  Thanks to his mom, the kid had a pretty good handle on opening doors and saying “Yes, ma’am.” But respect for women went deeper than that and was best taught by example. Then there were cars. Every boy should learn how to change the oil, to drive a stick. He saw himself teaching Josh how to give a proper handshake.

  “Make eye contact,” he’d say. “Use a firm grip. One pump. Now two. Okay, smooth release.”

  And Addie?

  His pace slowed. He thought back to how the little girl had clung to him during the last pizza party. No sense denying it. He couldn’t have been prouder than if he’d pitched a no-hitter on opening day.

  He caught his reflection in the window of a darkened store. His footsteps came to a halt at the thought of putting some pimply-faced teen through the third degree before Addie’s first date. The intervening years would pass in the blink of an eye. An urge to be there for every minute of them shook him.

  Was that what he wanted? To settle down with Courtney and raise her kids as his own?

  He dug deep, demanding an honest answer, and nearly stumbled when he couldn’t envision a future without Courtney in it. His breath hitched when he pictured her hair, a wreath of curls on his pillow. Nothing, not even the possibility of coaching in the pros, made his heart stutter like the idea of making love to her. Of waking, his arms snugged around her waist. Of coming home at the end of the day to a house filled with laughter, kids and Courtney.

  Oh, yeah, he breathed. If she felt the same way, too, he’d sign up for the whole package, family and all.

  But did she?

  He straightened the brim of his baseball cap. He didn’t know if she realized it, but she had a special smile she saved just for him. Her eyes sparkled whenever they were together. She fit so snugly, so willingly, in his arms that she had to care about him.

  On the other hand, he sensed she was holding something back. That there were things about her past she hadn’t shared with him. Before they took things to the next level, she needed to trust him enough to tell him what those things were.

  He put his feet in motion again. At Coffee on Brevard the usual blast of coffee-scented air washed over him. His attention drawn to the counter, he flashed Courtney his best smile. A split second later, he spied the contingent of Slugger parents crowding the tables. He shook his head. His quiet mornings with Courtney had come to an end, and no one had warned him.

  “We’d just about given up on you, Coach. Come on in and have a seat.” Larry Olafson, the catcher’s father, had the same muscular frame and fair skin as his son. The man pointed to an empty chair between two tables someone had shoved together.

  “Catch your breath while I get you some coffee. What do you take in it? Cream? Sugar?” Joe, the father of the team’s second-best hitter, was halfway out of his chair by the time Travis laid a hand on his shoulder.

  “Don’t get up. I’ll get it.” He hefted the stack of newspapers. “Need to give these to Ms. Smith anyway.”

  At the counter, Courtney greeted him with a smile that was uncharacteristically cool. “Planning to open a magazine stand, Travis?”

  He plopped the papers onto the counter. “These are for you. Josh’s picture made the sports section.”

  Though coffee sloshed against the sides of the pot Courtney held, her expression never wavered. She finished filling his cup as usual and slid it across to him.

  “Well, thanks for those.” Using her elbow, she nudged the stack to one side. “I’m sure Josh will be thrilled.”

  He fought the urge to scratch his head. Unless the police were involved, most parents gloated when their child’s photo made the paper. The feeling that there was something she wasn’t telling him came back with a vengeance. He let his brow furrow. “You don’t want to take a look?”

  “I’m kind of busy right now.” In a deliberate move to change the subject, Courtney threw a pointed glance over his shoulder. “I guess everyone liked the place so much on Saturday they decided to pay us a return visit.”

  “I should have expected this. During last year’s tournament, they all but camped out on my front doorstep. I know you’re glad for the
business, but—” his voice dropped to a whisper “—I liked spending time alone with you. Is that wrong?”

  “Same here.” The merest, most reassuring twinkle danced in Courtney’s eyes.

  Chairs scraped across the floor in the room behind him.

  “Better get back.” Courtney made a shooing motion. “Your fans are getting restless.”

  He turned then, the sound of her laughter easing some of his concerns and deepening his disappointment at not being able to steal a kiss or two. At the table, he slid onto the empty chair in time to hear Joe ask, “So what do you think our chances are of going all the way?”

  It took every bit of control he’d perfected on the field to steady his cup and keep his thoughts on baseball. He sipped coffee. The scalding brew freed the logjam in his brain and got his thoughts flowing again.

  “Baseball players are a superstitious lot,” he pointed out. “We haven’t lost a game yet, but we don’t want to jinx ourselves.”

  “Heck no, Coach. This is all pure speculation,” Joe agreed.

  “We just want to be prepared, is all,” Larry said, taking the lead in a conversation that covered every aspect of the Sluggers’ season.

  For the first time in the weeks he’d been stopping by Coffee on Brevard, Travis couldn’t wait for the end of his allotted visit. Finally, he gave each of the parents a look filled with one part resolve, two parts encouragement and stood. “Gotta run. See you all at Thursday’s game.”

  A chorus of goodbyes followed him to the front of the café, where Courtney had a coffee ready for Manny.

  “See you at practice tonight?” Travis asked, when what he really wanted was to claim a kiss.

  “I’ll be there. And after that…”

  Her voice all but disappeared, tempting him to lean in closer.

  “Would you like to join the kids and me for supper?” A rosy glow suffused her face. “My way of thanking you for Saturday.” She looked down. Spying the newspapers that still sat on the counter, she added, “And for those.”

  His body blocking the view of all-too-eager eyes behind him, Travis cupped Courtney’s chin with his fingers. “I’d love to,” he whispered.

  On the way out the door he jingled the change in his pocket, glad for a full schedule and the practice that would eat up the time until he saw Courtney again.

  Chapter Ten

  Courtney glanced past the chairs and pillows that barricaded Addie in the living room. The little girl sat with a book in her lap and babbled. Josh lay on the couch studying for a test at school later in the week. Satisfied that the kids were out of harm’s way, she turned to the stove.

  A pork-scented cloud of steam escaped when she lifted the lid from the frying pan. Grease spit and splattered. Once the risk of getting stung passed, she deftly flipped the chops and clamped the lid back in place.

  Josh’s book closed with an audible snap. “Mom. I’m star-ving,” he announced.

  Right on cue.

  “Dinner’ll be ready in just a few minutes. How ’bout setting the table? Knives, forks, spoons, napkins. The works.”

  Josh scrambled off the couch.

  She waited until both his feet hit the floor before she added, “Set an extra place for Coach Oak. He’ll be here soon.” She noted her son’s widening eyes.

  “Honest?” His voice rose. “Here?”

  She followed as his gaze made a circuit around the room. It wasn’t the designer-decorated mansion where they’d once lived. But there were pluses. Josh could build an excellent fort with the well-worn furniture they’d inherited from the previous owners. Addie loved to wiggle her fingers and toes in the yellow throw rug they’d found on sale at the local hardware store.

  “You know when someone does something nice for you, it’s good to do something for them in return?” At Josh’s nod, she explained, “Well, Coach Oak did us a favor by having the team party in the café Saturday. I thought a home-cooked meal would be a great way for us to say thanks.”

  Behind his easy acceptance, she could practically see her son’s thoughts churn. Without saying a word, he padded to the cupboard, where he spent several minutes rattling the silverware in the drawer. When he faced her, she lowered the heat beneath a pot of simmering green beans.

  “Mom, if you marry Coach Oak, what’s gonna happen to Addie and me?”

  Marry Travis?

  “No one is talking about getting married.” As tempting as that idea was, she shoved it aside.

  Tears welled in Josh’s eyes. “When Paul’s mom got married again, he had to go live with his dad.” His chin trembled. “I don’t have a dad.”

  So that’s what brought this on?

  Fighting her own tears, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled her stiff little boy close. Paul had lived in their old neighborhood. His parents had been involved in a messy divorce that had led to a bitter custody battle.

  “You don’t have to worry about anything like that happening with us. I wouldn’t want to spend a single day without you and Addie in it.” She kissed Josh’s hair and, resting her chin on his head, refused to let go until she felt him thaw.

  “Mom, I can’t breathe,” he protested seconds after his hands patted her shoulders.

  “So we’re good here?” She released her hold, then wagged a finger between them.

  In a move that came straight from Travis’s playbook, Josh held out his palms. “I guess.”

  She grinned and swatted his behind. “Good. Now, set the table and wash up for supper.” Her thoughts sobered as she turned to the stove.

  Josh had changed a lot since the fight at school. He no longer blew up over little things, or even the big things. That didn’t mean he was in the clear.

  What if he wasn’t ready for her to start dating again?

  She rested the whisk against the side of the pan. At thirty-two, she was too young to stay true to a ghost for the rest of her life. Even if her first marriage had been a good one, which it hadn’t. Not that she’d ever tell Josh how bad things had been.

  She shuddered just as the doorbell rang.

  Josh called, “I’ll get it, Mom.” He swung the door open.

  Wiping her hands on her apron, Courtney stepped out of the kitchen. She hurried to the entryway, where her son had yet to greet their guest. Over Josh’s head, Travis’s eyes locked on to hers.

  For one second, Courtney let herself get lost in his tender gaze. One second, but it was enough. Standing on the baseball field in a ratty T-shirt and catcher’s gear, the man could make her pulse race. In her entryway, droplets of water from a recent shower still clinging to his dark hair, dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, he simply took her breath away.

  She caught the scent of flowers and looked down at the bouquet he’d thrust into her hands.

  “Those are for you.” Travis nodded. He pulled a baseball from his pocket. Handing it to Josh, he said, “It’s from the best game I ever pitched when I was in Triple-A. Thought you might like it.”

  Josh’s mouth gaped open. He clutched the gift to his chest.

  “What do you say, Josh?” she prompted when her son remained silent.

  “Thanks, Coach,” Josh whispered. Adulation shone in the eyes that met hers. “Mom, can I put it in my room?”

  Travis reached out to mess with the boy’s hair. “Good idea. Why don’t you.”

  Josh darted down the hall. As he rounded the corner, Courtney caught the backward glance he cast toward Travis. She knew that look. The boy was trying to figure things out, but he’d have to get in line. Though she’d grown closer to Travis than she’d ever thought she could, he’d as much as said he wasn’t looking for a permanent relationship. So where were they headed?

  As if answering her question, Travis reached for her the instant Josh sped out of sight. Before she could muster a single objection—not that she would have—he drew her into his arms.

  “Better grab a kiss while I can,” he murmured. Despite the need that swam in his dark eyes, he brushed his lip
s lightly over hers.

  The teasing touch, the solid breadth of Travis’s hand spanning her back, the steady beat of his heart nearly robbed her of coherent thought. She brushed her fingers through his thick hair, reveling in the texture before she drew back.

  “Travis,” she whispered, “the children.”

  Addie was too young to notice but Josh—well, if she knew her son, he wouldn’t linger in his bedroom long.

  “Yeah.” Travis trailed one finger along her chin. “Someday, though…”

  “I should…I should put these in water.” She bent low, hiding her face in the flowers.

  “Cosh Oak?” Addie rushed to the end of the barricade and stood there, her little arms open.

  Courtney shook her head. “Doesn’t look like she’ll take no for an answer.”

  Travis’s hand dropped from her waist as his expression shifted into the smile he always wore around her daughter. “Hey there, baby girl.” He stepped over stacks of pillows and blankets with an athlete’s easy grace. Scooping the toddler into his arms, he pulled another ball from his pocket. “Play catch, Addie?” he asked.

  While Josh was busy in his room and Travis played with the baby, Courtney put the finishing touches on dinner. She’d just carried everything to the table when a toddler-toting Travis stepped into the alcove that served as their dining area. Josh skidded into the kitchen behind him.

  “Hmm. Something sure smells good.” Travis slipped Addie into her high chair. “This looks great.”

  “It’s not anything fancy,” Courtney protested. Still, her heart warmed at the way he all but devoured the meal with his eyes.

  “Sit here, Coach.” Josh pointed to the head of the table. He scooted his own chair marginally closer.

  For a few minutes talk died down as plates were passed. While Josh dove into his dinner, the praise Travis heaped on the simple meal confirmed her suspicions that the big guy subsisted largely on takeout and fast food.

  “Careful,” she told him when he helped himself to thirds. “Someone might think you’re angling for a standing invitation.”