by Maddie James
“Miz Shelby asked...” The boy looked at Midnight.
“He’s here because I hired him. Daniel’s going to create a website for me. And for a few of the other business owners, for a start. We’re going to get one put together for the town of Legend and as many individual businesses as want to participate.”
“Yeah, Dad, and then I said we can link it to the county site, and that’s linked to the site for the state.”
Midnight broke in again, caught up in the excitement of the topic and leaving the excitement of her interlude with Martin behind. “And my parents have a site they market their stuff on, and my mom has a poetry blog. They’ll link those to my site here, since I’m going to sell some of my dad’s Native American art and of course Mom’s books. And then when…”
“Wait right there! What are you talking about?” Martin’s face looked rather purple, and he came out from behind the box, hands out of his pockets now.
“We’re talking about marketing Legend,” Midnight answered. “No reason to have all this natural beauty, eating and shopping opportunities, relaxation to the max, and not share it with the world. We’re going to bring people from all over right here to Legend, and when they see what we’ve got, they’ll tell their friends, and they’ll come see.”
Midnight walked across to look out one of the large windows. “Some of them will want to move here. Good for the real estate market, of course. With the power of the ‘net, there’s no telling how far Legend can go.”
She spun toward Martin again. “Isn’t that exciting? And Daniel’s just the I.T. guy we need. He’s great with web design. I mean, your site is fantastic, for a small town realtor. Well. Maybe that wasn’t the ideal phrasing, but it is really good, and Betsy said…”
“Stop! Stop talking!” Martin threw a hand up in a plea for silence. “Good Lord, woman, how many words can you get in on one breath? Just stop and let me try to digest this. You’ve hired my son to create websites for the local businesses and bring a bunch of outsiders in here?”
“Well, it’s business, Martin,” she said quietly. “You have to have outsiders to buy the products, you know. Legend can’t support itself without bringing people in.” She looked at him searchingly. “You know that, right?”
Silence. Martin’s face turned a deeper shade of purple.
“Let’s go, Son.” He headed to the top of the staircase.
“But Dad!”
“Let’s go.” The look that passed between them was like a lightning storm. But after a few moments Daniel dropped his head and walked toward the staircase too. “Geez.”
“Martin McClain! This is not the end of it!” she shouted as they descended the steps. “You can’t avoid progress forever! You’ll kill this town!” Then she bit her tongue because she didn’t want to say any more with Daniel present. He was a good kid. And he certainly seemed to have more foresight than his father. Daniel deserved to have a future in Legend if he wanted to keep living here when he grows up. But if an attitude like Martin’s prevailed, there wouldn’t be a future for anyone in Legend.
****
“And then he stomped down the stairs and out the door, all self-righteous. As if I’d done something wrong!”
“Well, you hadn’t…exactly.”
Not what Midnight expected to hear. “I hadn’t, exactly?”
She sat across the white wrought iron table from Betsy, in the large kitchen/dining area above Midnight’s store. It was late afternoon and they were enjoying some white chocolate cappuccino. Decaf cappuccino, in deference to Betsy’s condition. This was Midnight’s celebration for having put her living quarters together in one weekend.
“You should’ve asked Martin. Remember? I told you: be sure to ask Martin before you say anything to Daniel. Now, I don’t know. Martin doesn’t forgive easily. And he loves this town. He wants the best for it. The way you explained things may have put him off.”
Put him off? Set him off was more like it. But no way did Midnight think any of it was her fault. Martin was just too old-fashioned and stuck in a rut.
“I can get someone else. Someone from away. There are probably millions of people who create websites. I just wanted to give Daniel the chance.”
“That was a good thought. But you can’t give Daniel a chance unless you work with Martin. That’s not fair to either of them. You don’t want to hurt their relationship, Midnight. Think about that.”
“Think about the town!”
“I am thinking about the town. We need to get more people in here to do the touristy things, shop in the stores, stay in the B&B. I don’t know what’ll happen with the factory they’re talking about bringing in here. I’m not saying what you want to do is wrong, but you’ve started off bad.” She sighed. “Not just about Daniel. You’ve got to get Martin and some of the other guys in Legend thinking outside the box, like they say on TV. I think the men have a harder time doing that than we women do.”
Betsy patted her large round tummy. “Legend’s biggest export is our kids, when they get out of school, especially the really smart ones. To get good jobs they have to go somewhere else. We know that. It’s been that way for years. We just don’t know what to do about it. I’m not sure a factory is any kind of an answer.”
“Betsy, you can talk to Martin. Reason with him. He’ll listen to you. I’d bet on it.”
“I don’t know. He has a double dose of the McClain bullheadedness. Poor Daniel. I’ll bet he got an ear full on the way home yesterday.”
“You’re right. I feel awful about that. He’s such a neat kid. So smart. He’ll go far, especially considering how advanced he is at thirteen. But he won’t be able to go far and stay in Legend at the same time. Do you see that?”
“I do. But I don’t know if Martin does.”
“Maybe that’s the way you need to approach it when you talk to Martin.”
“Maybe that’s the way you need to approach it, Midnight. The more I think about this, the more I believe you need to be the one to explain it to Martin. I know he’s set in his ways. No one knows it better than I do. But he treats me like a kid sister, and I don’t think he’d take me seriously if I tried to talk to him about it. Plus, you have the background and the vocabulary for all this business stuff. I’m just a small town girl.” She dropped her eyes and twisted a tendril of her hair around a forefinger.
Midnight looked hard at sweet, innocent Betsy’s halo of blonde curls. Was she trying to get out of this for some other reason? But how could Midnight try to force little pregnant Betsy into an unpleasant encounter with big, noisy Martin? No. She’d have to do it herself.
And it would require some careful planning.
Chapter Eleven
“Dammit to hell, Kyle! Catch that damned ball!”
Coach Jim Hood grabbed the scruff of his wide receiver’s neck and pulled him close. “Son, what’s the problem? You haven’t made one play worth a damn today.”
The boy, all six foot of him, shrunk under his coach’s scrutiny. “Don’t know Coach. Just off, I guess.” Kyle Sanders pulled off his dark green helmet with its golden dragon emblem and glanced at the sidelines, then lowered his head once more.
Jim followed his gaze and put two and two together. Sissy Clark: blond. Well endowed. Cheerleader. And Kyle’s girlfriend of two years. If you didn’t subtract the times they broke-up. “Trouble?”
Kyle shrugged. “Ain’t nothin’.”
“Good. Then get your butt back on that field and catch that damned ball or you can sit out starting next game.”
The threat brought Kyle’s head up and had his feet moving. The only thing more important to him than winning every game they played was starting. Jim hummed in satisfaction when Kyle sprinted like the wind to catch the ball in the end zone. He raised his brows when Kyle looked back to see if he’d been watching. Kyle pulled off his helmet and sent him a goofy grin. Jim snorted. There was no doubt the kid would get several athletic scholarship offers this year, he was that good. But a girl could mes
s a guy up. And Sissy Clark, also in her senior year, had already made herself a reputation of messing guys up. Kyle was lasting a lot longer than the rest, but it showed on him at times. Like today.
Winning the High School National Championship was within the Dragons’ grasp this season. They hadn’t lost a game yet. And he didn’t plan to let them start now just because one of his seniors had his head up his ass. He’d have another talk with the boy and his dad as well. The Colonel, as he was known, would make sure Kyle got his priorities straight. Sissy’s mother just might get a call, too, although Jim knew he’d probably just be wasting his breath. Candy Clark was an older version of her daughter. She’d already been married four times and was looking for husband number five. Jim cringed, remembering the way she always looked at him, but he knew he’d have to make the call.
This was football. And they were up against a mean, tough team next Friday night.
The school, and he as head football coach, had a reputation to uphold. The town supported his team at every level, from financial sponsorship to attendance. You wouldn’t find a soul out in town on game night. They were always in the stands, always faithful, even on the road.
Jim made sure his boys knew it, and gave back as much as they had to give. It was great to have the talent to back up his program. It was even better to have a community to back up his team. And this team was his best yet.
So good in fact, a producer from California was filming a documentary about them, covering not just all this season’s games and practices, but showcasing the everyday lives of his starting seniors. They had wanted to follow him, too, but this wasn’t about him. It was about his program. His players. Football.
And these kids deserved it.
Everything he demanded, they gave. Sometimes with complaint during their two, two hour practices each day. But come game night, every Friday come rain or shine, they gave it all. Body, mind, and soul.
Satisfied with their Saturday morning practice Jim blew his whistle. Accustomed to the cameramen, he ignored them as his players gathered around smelling of hard sweat and dirt. He nodded his satisfaction to them. “Okay, guys. Good job, but we’ve got to step it up. We’ll meet back here at six.” He glanced at Kyle. “Leave all your garbage off the field. We have three more games to get to state and we play Larkstone next.”
Pure pleasure filled him at the fire that entered his players’ eyes. Larkstone was a long time rival, and the Dragons’ only real competition this season. The other competitors, the high school teams in their division as well as those statewide, feared the Dragons based on their success alone, even more so since he’d taken over the program five years earlier. The Dragons had won the state title every year since he’d started coaching, but they’d yet to take the national title.
This one game had the potential to make or break their chances. The Larkstone Larks were not only talented they were a whole other breed of people. Just plain mean. And not just the players; the entire Larkstone community got in on the act, which required the Legend athletic staff to hire extra security any time they were scheduled to play together.
The Larks had hated the Dragons for as far back as Jim could remember, even when he had played high school football. And they hated the Dragons even more now that his seniors were wearing their third State Championship ring and had a real shot at not only a fourth, but a chance at Nationals as well.
Larkstone had expected to get those rings and the coveted trophy last season, figuring purposely injuring Dragon players on the field could win them the title. A last second touchdown had taken the win away from them, and the Dragons had celebrated their fourth State victory in a row. Now there would be hell to pay.
“Listen up, boys! Larks play dirty, you all know that. Watch yourselves and your teammates. They’ll be out for blood. So get any other issues you have off the table or put them on hold. This is it, guys! Be prepared. This week’s practices are going to hurt and I expect you to give everything you have.
“See you at five.”
With shouts, punches, kicks, and a lot of mouthing, his players jogged toward the school and their showers. Except one. Jim watched as Kyle headed to the sidelines and Sissy. He turned to talk to his coaching assistants to leave instructions so he could get home to shower himself before going to Suzie’s. He glanced at his watch. He was due there….
Late already. Where had the morning gone?
On his way off the field, he glanced back and then rolled his eyes. Apparently whatever drama Kyle and Sissy had was over for the moment. They were lip-locked, examining each others’ tonsils with their tongues. Kyle’s hands groped Sissy’s bottom beneath her short cheer skirt as she wrapped a leg around his uniformed hip. Their bodies pressed together in a way that left nothing to the imagination.
Not as if that meant anything with those two. They could, and most likely would, have sex this afternoon then be at each other’s throats again before tonight’s practice.
Yep. He was going to have to have a talk with The Colonel.
Chapter Twelve
“A dollop, Mrs. Hertz. No, wait…Oh!”
Lilly watched Suzie trying to direct the elderly Mrs. Hertz and had to give her points for patience. Ninety-nine and holding was how Mrs. Bertha Hertz introduced herself. She was all of four feet tall, bent over at least a third of that, and had a liver-spotted finger she liked to point. Lilly decided early on to stay out of her way.
She glanced around the room at the assortment of neighbors who had come for today’s cooking lesson. And since she was staying here anyway, she had decided to join them, at Suzie’s urging. There was one man and five women, including Suzie and herself. Mrs. Hertz was the oldest by far, while a pretty little blonde by the name of Macy was the youngest at nineteen. She was engaged and wanted to learn to cook as a gift for her new husband, she’d said.
Lilly thought it all a little old fashioned, but what did she know? She hadn’t had a boyfriend in a very long time, and had certainly never considered marrying anyone. Her life hadn’t allowed for that. She didn’t know if it ever would.
Then there were the Butlers. Quiet, watchful, and reed thin, Mrs. Butler underplayed what Lilly considered lovely bone structure. The shapeless outfit she wore was too old for her by at least a generation. As was the man she’d married. Prim, proper, and dressed like she was heading straight to church after class was over, Winifred Butler looked as unhappy as any one woman could look. Her husband on the other hand was almost frantically cheerful, his overly large belly encased in overalls making him look like a Weeble that would wobble if someone pushed hard enough. His voice boomed, startling everyone in the room when he spoke, including his wife.
The chime of the door pulled her thoughts back to Suzie who met her gaze with quiet desperation. Suzie inhaled audibly as Mrs. Hertz poured an entire bottle of cooking cherry into her mixing bowl. Lilly pointed to herself and then in the direction of the living room, indicating she would go answer the door. Suzie nodded. Lilly hurried through the house. A little breathless, she flung open the door.
“Sorry, I’m...late.”
The man standing there looking at her grinned suddenly, flashing teeth so white they had to be bleached. Or maybe it was because his tan, a natural outdoorsman brown, was so dark against them. Lilly stared up at him but couldn’t find her voice. Or her brain for that matter. All she could do was stare into his whiskey-colored eyes, with their deeply grooved laugh lines.
The fleeting thought that the wrinkles should have made him look old was replaced with wonder at how rugged he looked…and oh yes, all male.
His smile faltered. “Are you all right?”
Lilly felt the blush over her entire body and once again cursed her fair skin. She took a step back and garbled something, meaning to tell him to go on back to the kitchen. Now she didn’t know what to do. She wanted to run and hide, from embarrassment rather than fear for the first time in her life. Instead she licked her lips, saw his gaze flick to the motion, and swallowed
. “Suzie’s in back. Cooking. Teaching cooking that is…uh, Mrs. Hertz.”
He thinks I’m a moron, screamed in Lilly’s head as she turned and all but ran back to the kitchen. She didn’t look back to see if he followed. She couldn’t. No man had ever affected her like that. She wouldn’t have imagined it possible.
She had dealt with life and death situations more than once, and, although she had been frozen in fear, she had never been completely struck dumb. Until now. In front of what was perhaps the sexiest man she’d ever seen.
He had to think her mentally challenged. Hell, forget political correctness, retarded.
Retarded with a capital R.
Lilly reached the kitchen and all eyes turned her way. Something in them had Suzie leaving a fussing Mrs. Hertz and coming to her side. “What is it?” She looked up, over Lilly’s head, obviously spied the god standing behind her, and then back at Lilly before turning to the room at large. “Okay, guys. Get your pastries in the oven and I’ll be back in just a minute.” She pointed at the man standing at Lilly’s back. “You. Stay here.” And added under her breath, “Watch Broomhilda.”
With that parting remark she took Lilly’s hand, pulled her from the room, through the living room and up the stairs, into the bedroom and closed the door with a soft click. Then she turned to Lilly and said, “It’s okay. He has that effect on women. I’m only immune because I’ve known him since both of us were in diapers and we went through puberty together. Not so pretty then!” Suzie laughed at her own joke, shaking her head. “But neither was I. Still and all, he’s eye candy at its finest now.”
Lilly exhaled. “Thank you for getting me out of there. I’ve never done that before. I must have looked like an idiot. I feel like a fool. I can’t go back and face those people. Him. Who is he? Oh gosh, I’m babbling.”
Suzie laughed with delight. “You are really struck, aren’t you?”
“This isn’t funny. It’s crazy. People don’t get struck. I don’t get struck. Who is he?”