Changing Her Plans (Santa Fe Bobcats)

by Jeanette Murray

  “And you gave up everything to race over here. Gave up your weekend with your son at his tournament, the past few hours of work after you already took off the week to be with us.” He turned now, fighting hard to keep the tears from flooding his eyes. “It’s got to stop.”

  She rubbed his arm, concern in her eyes. “Things will even out. It’s rough, the first few weeks. We’ll get in a rhythm, Clay.”

  We. We, she says. His heart ached.

  “I think you should go.”

  She stepped back, confused, then looked down and smiled a bit. “I do look pretty rough, don’t I? I can run home and change and—”

  “No.” He couldn’t be soft, or she’d work around him. “I think you should catch up with Isaac. I’m sorry you couldn’t drive him, but you need to be there for your son.”

  “But Stanley—”

  “Will be fine with me.” He sighed and stepped farther back. Far enough he wouldn’t feel tempted to grab her and change his mind. Beg her to stay. “Kristen, you’ve got a son who needs you. Forget him, you want to be with him.”

  “I can want to be both places,” she whispered. “That doesn’t mean I don’t love my son, Clay.”

  “That’s not what I…” He sighed and ran a hand over his face, trying hard to focus anywhere but on her confused, hurt face. “Kristen, God. You’ve got to go. Don’t waste your time here. Go pick up your stuff and meet him. Please.”

  She watched him for a long moment, then glanced at the half-closed bedroom door, hiding where Stanley slumbered.

  “We’ll be fine,” he added softly. “You’ve already done enough for us.”

  Kristen shook her head in denial but didn’t argue. “When I get back into town, we’ll talk about this.”

  “No.” It came out sharper than he meant, but now wasn’t the time to back down. To backtrack. Or he’d drop to his knees and beg her to forgive him. “This is where we part ways, I think.”

  Her lashes came down, and her head bowed, but she didn’t give up. “What are you talking about?”

  “You said it yourself.” He forced himself to go back to that time, nearly a week ago, when she’d tried to apply the brakes to their relationship. “You were right. We’re going too fast. And we still want different things.”

  “We… I…” She bit her lip and looked back toward the door again. “Things have changed.”

  “Yes, they have. Before, we could pretend it would all work out. I was coming around to the idea of just you and me, because I could never make you change your mind.”

  “I didn’t want to change yours,” she whispered.

  “You didn’t want to, but it happened anyway,” he said simply. “Because you were you. Not playing games. Being the woman you are. It changed my mind. But now there’s Stanley.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek. “I would never ask you to give him up,” she said fiercely.

  “Of course you wouldn’t. Baby, no.” Risking the pain, he cupped her cheek, using his thumb to brush away the wetness. His forehead dropped to hers in silent apology that she’d even for a second believe he’d think that of her. “You wouldn’t. I just meant, things have changed. Stanley’s here to stay. And this isn’t what you signed up for.”

  She stayed quiet, so he took that as his sign to go on.

  “These are the cards we were dealt.”

  “I want to play,” she said.

  “I love that you’re saying that.” He kissed her forehead and drew her close. She smelled like his shampoo. “But I won’t do that to you.”

  “I don’t get a choice?”

  “No.” When she jerked away from him to glare from a few feet away, he sighed again. “Look at what happened today. You’re missing time with your son. You had to come home early from work to take care of Stanley. This entire week you’ve exhausted yourself, run yourself ragged taking care of Stanley.” He smiled sadly when her eyes widened. “You think I didn’t notice? You were mainlining coffee. You were drifting off anytime you sat down for a few minutes. More than once, I caught you staring into the distance with bleary eyes. You’re past this stage; you’ve hit the parental finish line. You’ve got the right to have it.”

  “I’ve got the right to change my mind,” she snapped.

  But he just shook his head. She would stay with them, sacrifice her future, because she loved him. And because he loved her, he wouldn’t let her.

  “Catch up with Isaac. It’s his first tournament of the season. Be there for it.”

  Kristen just kept shaking her head, like she was too stunned to take it in.

  He pulled her in for another hug, felt her trembling body against his, and nearly caved. But that would be self-serving. Selfish. Less than she deserved.

  “Go,” he whispered, kissing her temple and nudging her. “Tell Isaac good luck for me.”

  Still looking stunned, Kristen walked toward the kitchen, looking over her shoulder only a moment. “You’ll let me know how he is?”

  Even after kicking her out, she was still worried about Stanley. “Without a doubt.”

  She nodded, then grabbed her purse off the kitchen counter and left through the garage. He’d have to close it later, but that wasn’t his priority right now.

  When he heard her car take off, he walked back into the master bedroom. Stanley hadn’t moved an inch. Needing the comfort for himself more than anything, he lay down beside Stanley, silently cursing when Stan turned toward him in his sleep. But the boy stayed under, and Clay managed to fully relax beside his nephew.

  Well, Stanley, I might have just fucked it up for both of us. But at least she won’t resent me later. And you’ll be okay. Just you and me now.

  Kristen held her purse in one hand and her shoes in another, walking like a zombie through the garage to her car. She’d felt too silly to put the shoes on…high heels with Clay’s T-shirt and gym shorts. Which just meant she’d have to come back to get her clothing another time. Or he would bring it by her desk.

  Her stomach roiled at the thought. That finality. Like when your ex dumped a box of things on your doorstep that you’d left at his place over the course of the relationship.

  She nearly shrieked when a hand landed on her shoulder.

  “Easy, whoa. Sorry about that.” Ken Jordan stepped back, hands up. “You were about to walk face-first into my truck. Thought I’d keep you from the bumper-shaped bruise on your shin.”

  “Oh.” She glanced around and realized she’d just kept going, lost in her own misery. Oblivious that her car was behind her now. “Right. Sorry.” Then it clicked that the head coach was seeing her looking like a homeless person. “Uh, I had to shower because Stanley got sick and—”

  “Mellie told me. She filled me in on having to call you when she couldn’t reach Clay. He had a rough day.” Ken stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back a bit. At her confused look, he clarified. “He’s been keeping me in the loop on the meetings and all that. Felt like he owed it to the team to let us know he’s not just dicking around with his time off. As if we were worried about that,” Coach Jordan added with a scoff. “Man’s got a brand-new baby all but dropped on his doorstep. I think two weeks in the off-season is more than understandable to get a routine down.”

  “Great.” What more could she say? Embarrassed, she edged away from the coach. “So, I’ll…see you on Monday, Coach. Gotta get ready for training camp and all that.”

  “Kristen.”

  His firm, authoritative voice had her stopping in her tracks. “Yes, Coach?”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Stanley’s sick,” she tried weakly.

  He gave her the no-nonsense eyebrow raise, and she sighed.

  “He… We… We’re not going to work out.” Saying it out loud had her lip wobbling, but she firmed it and willed the tears back. “Different places in our lives and all that.”

  “Dumped you, did he?” Coach Jordan asked bluntly.

  And those tears she’d forced back spilled over. Sh
it, shit, shit. She simply looked away, debating if he could catch her if she darted barefoot for her car. Maybe he’d think she was having a loony moment and let her go. Maybe—

  “The man’s full of horseshit.”

  That had her escape plans crumbling to dust. “He’s having a rough time right now.”

  “Of course he is. Which is why you pull the ones you love closer, not push them away.”

  Technically, she’d never told him she loved him…

  But God, she did. She loved him so much it felt like she was leaving a limb behind.

  “It was just casual. We’re responsible. It won’t change our working relationship.”

  “It won’t change, because you won’t let it. Give the man a day or two, and he’ll be all but whimpering for you back. He smiles more,” Coach Jordan added with a little lip twitch of his own. “He used to be the most driven man out there, with no personal life. He’d be in the office before me, leave after me, and make me wonder if he even had a home of his own with how much time he spent in his office or with the players.”

  “That’s nice,” she said absently. Was it true though?

  “He’s a damn good man and a fine coach. I don’t know what kind of a boyfriend he is—”

  Kristen choked on air at that thought.

  “—but I imagine he’s a good one of those too. Maybe I’m wrong and you did the breaking off. But if not, then forgive the guy. He’s talking out his ass right now. His entire life is upside down, and he’s avoiding taking you along for the ride. He’s being noble.”

  “He’s being stupid,” she muttered, then bit back a groan when Coach Jordan chuckled, indicating he’d heard her.

  “He’s a man, so the odds are yeah, he’s being stupid. And if he’s not acting stupid now, he’ll be stupid in the future. It’s something I learned during that couples counseling my ex and I tried before we split for good. Men…we’re just stupid.” He winked at her, giving her the indication he was at least half kidding. “Give him some time.”

  Kristen fought back the urge to grumble, then eased away slowly. “I’m just…gonna go now.”

  He nodded and gave a short wave to say good-bye. Kristen managed to avoid sprinting for her car like a hysterical woman…barely.

  Clay checked the peephole to make sure it wasn’t Kristen—though what the hell was he going to do if it was?—and sighed before opening the door to the head coach. “Ken.”

  “Clay.” Taking the open door as an invitation, Coach Jordan stepped in. “How are things?”

  “Good, good.”

  Ken’s brow raised in a silent call of bullshit.

  He groaned and ran a hand over his hair, then walked to the stairs. If Stanley woke up, he’d hear him well enough. And he had moved the child to his crib when it appeared the kid was out like a hibernating bear. When Clay sat heavily on the stairs, Ken took a seat a few steps below him.

  “Stan’s sick, I just pushed the love of my life out the door, and I probably fucked everything up.”

  “Son, you don’t know fucked-up until you’ve got an ex-wife like Tabitha,” Ken said with a shake of his head. “But you’ve made a few steps in that direction, I’ll give it to ya. Stanley’s sick… Anything I can do to help there? I’ve been through it twice myself.”

  Clay nearly corrected him with three but stopped short. Ken’s first daughter, Cassie, hadn’t come into his life until she’d been midtwenties, from what Clay heard. “He’ll be okay, I think. I panicked at first—”

  “We all do with the first kid.” Ken smiled and stared at the wall, lost in a memory. “By the second kid, you don’t even start thinking about panic until a bone’s protruding from the skin or the temp’s hitting brain-melt status.”

  “Yeah, well, this might be my only chance for that.” Clay ran a hand over his face. “Have you ever wondered what it would have been like, without kids?”

  “Hard to miss what you’ve almost always had,” Ken mused, settling his shoulders back against the wall. “I suspect the kicker there wouldn’t be the kids but the person I was with. Being single with no kids, that’s lonely. Being with the love of my life without kids, well, maybe I’d think about what could have been from time to time, but odds are we’d fill our lives with other adventures.”

  It made sense. It was finally, totally clicking. He wasn’t giving up the idea of having his own biological children with Kristen… He was trading it for a different adventure.

  But still, Stanley.

  “Is it selfish to ask her to take on a kid that isn’t her own?”

  Ken eyed him from the side. “Kristen’s got a kid of her own. Does that make you hesitate?”

  “Isaac’s practically an adult, and from all accounts, he’s got a great dad that’s involved, if a little limited thanks to geography.”

  “He’s a decent guy. I met him once before. And Kristen speaks highly of her ex. Which let me tell you,” the other man added dryly, “coming from the experience of divorce, if both parties can walk away still saying complimentary things about each other, it’s next to a miracle.”

  Clay simply nodded.

  “But I’ll grant you the Isaac example isn’t the best. Let’s add a seven-year-old to Kristen’s life. She’s got a seventeen-year-old and a seven-year-old. Would you turn away from her?”

  “Hell no,” he said so sharply it had the head coach blinking in surprise. “Sorry. You know what I mean. No, I wouldn’t. But I want kids. She’s done. I’m asking her to step in and raise someone else’s child nearly from the ground up. She’s half a mile from the finish line, and I’m plucking her up and dropping her back at the starting gate.”

  “If you think she’d let you pluck and drop her anywhere she didn’t want to be plucked and dropped, you aren’t dating the same Kristen I know.”

  Clay considered that for a moment. “I’ve got a responsibility to her. To her dreams. I love her.”

  “So you’re saving her from herself?” Ken scoffed. “Look, I’ve got a nasty divorce under my belt, so I won’t pretend I’ve got the answers. But just from watching my daughter navigate her own fledgling marriage…I think the answer is simple. You pick a woman who knows her own mind and can use it. But the kicker is, she’s gotta be trustworthy in the bargain. Kristen’s one of those. She’ll tell you if something bothers her. She’ll stand up for herself. So let her. Give her the option.”

  Clay covered his face with his hands and rubbed at his eyes.

  “She rushed over here to take care of that baby, not because she felt guilty. Hell, she knew Mellie could handle a little puke. And she knew you wouldn’t have been gone that much longer. She came over because she’s fallen in love with that child, as much as she’s fallen in love with you.”

  “For a guy with a divorce who doesn’t have all the answers, you’ve got plenty,” Clay said and listened to his head coach laugh low. He appreciated the consideration for the sleeping child.

  Ken stood, waving him down when Clay made to join him. “I’ll show myself out. You get back up there and keep Pukey from causing too much damage.”

  “I’ll be there on Tuesday,” Clay said firmly. “Mellie’s agreed to watch him until I find a day care officially. But I’ll be there.”

  “Funeral’s Monday?” Ken asked as he started to turn the corner for the front door.

  “Yes.”

  “Take all the time you need,” he said as he walked out.

  Chapter 22

  Kristen tapped the cheap hotel pen on the even cheaper pad of hotel paper, lost in thought.

  “Mom. God, you’ve got to stop.”

  “Hmm?” She glanced at her son, lying down on the second bed with his phone. But he wasn’t paying attention to the screen. His eyes glared at her.

  “The tapping is driving me insane.”

  “Ever heard of earbuds?”

  She waited for a teenage-sized eye roll or maybe a healthy dose of “Whatever.” Instead, Isaac rolled up to sit on the edge of the bed. “What’s wro
ng?”

  She started to say nothing—an automatic response—then reminded herself she’d made a promise long ago to not lie to her son. While he wasn’t privy to every detail of her life, she wouldn’t lie. “Coach Barnes—”

  “Clay.”

  “Yes, Clay… We’ve decided to take some time off.” The we was a bit of a stretch, but it sounded better than I got my walking papers handed to me.

  “We,” Isaac said skeptically. Of course he’d pick up on that. “Mom, come on. What happened? You guys were great. You were so damn happy.”

  “Language,” she said mildly. “And Isaac…” She sighed and turned in her chair to face him better. “Sometimes things in an adult’s life just make a relationship impossible.”

  “Sounds like a cop-out.”

  “It’s not a cop-out. It’s life as an adult. You’re a teenager. And God bless you sweetheart, you’re a great one. But life’s been pretty easy for you.”

  “I come from a broken home,” he reminded her.

  Kristen barely managed to stop her own eyes from rolling. “And you still have two loving parents who are more than civil to each other, a great stepmom, two cute half sisters, and a perfectly stable home life. You get good grades, you’re athletically gifted, you’re not half-bad to look at, and your parents can afford to send you to a good, solid in-state university. So please, tell me all you know about adult life and copping out.”

  The second she stopped talking, she realized her tone had edged from sarcastic to sharp, and her son had definitely noticed. He leaned back a bit, eyes widening at her voice.

  With another sigh, she rested her head on the desk, let the cool, fake wood soothe her warm cheeks. “Isaac, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even opened this can of worms with you. It’s just that I’m upset about it, and I’m clearly not handling it well.”

  “You liked him.”

  She loved him. “Yes. I very much liked Coach Barnes. Clay.”

  Isaac made a frustrated sound and hopped to his feet to pace the small hotel room. “Can’t you, like, do something? There’s got to be more.” He whirled around, face horrified. “It’s not Stanley, is it? Because that kid’s freaking awesome. You know I don’t mind having a little kid around.”