“Shanny got me an interview with a company in LA the week after I realized something was wrong with Mom. I told her now wasn’t a good time, that I needed to be here at home with you coming home and Mom sick. At least until Bo returned from Afghanistan. Dad can’t run this place on his own anymore.”
He rubbed his hands together as if they were cold, which they probably were. “She didn’t understand, refused to try to see where I was coming from. She told me if I didn’t love her enough to leave my family behind, then we didn’t have a future after all because I needed to put her before anyone else. The fact that I was willing to go when things looked a little more sure, a year or less, meant nothing to her. It was now or never.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t do it.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Karissa almost wished she hadn’t brought it up. Almost. Then she remembered something. “Wait, isn’t her family from LA?”
His laugh was low and empty. “Yeah, she seemed to have missed the irony.”
Marsh spent his Saturday painting the ceiling in the living room and correcting tests before showering and heading to the farm for dinner. Beth made sure he knew there was an open invitation any time he wanted to join them, and he decided to take advantage of Paul being at Dennis’s. It was much easier to get Karissa alone when her son was gone.
He found Karissa in the kitchen presiding over dinner preparations. The television was turned to the news as she slid homemade rolls into the oven.
Marsh walked over and tugged on a lock of her hair. “Hey there, gorgeous. I’ve been dreaming of your home cooking all day.”
“Flatterer.”
“It’s only flattery if it isn’t true,” he said and snitched a slice of cheese from the board in front of her. He turned to her father as the older man trudged in the back door. “Could you use some help out there?”
Robert shook his head. “Better set the table instead. Hank’s finishing up the last cow.”
“Set the table, Marsh. Let’s work on your homemaking skills,” Karissa suggested as national news ended and the newscaster turned to goings-on in the state.
“Whatever you say, dear.” Marsh smiled as he pulled the plates from the cupboard and left the kitchen to begin spreading them around the dining room table. Being around Karissa always made his day better.
“Marsh, get in here!” Karissa called.
Her voice wasn’t panicked, but he hurried in anyway, curious about the urgency in her tone. He arrived in time to catch the female newscaster early in her spiel.
“After a routine drug test at a Denver high school, several students were kicked off a wrestling team today,” the blonde woman said on the television. She went on to relate that seven students had shown positive for steroids after a team-wide drug test. The boys had all been suspended from participation while the school determined what action to take.
Marsh dug into a drawer and pulled out silverware, counting out knives and forks as the newscaster interviewed some parents and students, who all thought the possibility of the boys being kicked off the team was too harsh. The coach’s quote was wishy-washy and noncommittal. It gave Marsh a stomach ache.
He shook his head in disgust. “If those were my players, they’d be off the team, end of story. My boys all know the rules: no drinking, no drugs, no tobacco. Period. Any school that puts its athletic programs above the good of the students should rethink their priorities.”
“So, if your boys got caught, they’d be gone, even if it meant the end of your hopes for a state title?” Karissa stopped the mixer and pulled out the bowl of mashed potatoes.
“I’d hate it, but there’s no room for cheaters on my team. Letting the kids stay would send the wrong message.” He left the room to lay out the utensils while she finished, then returned again to the kitchen.
Hank walked in behind him and looked over at the bowl of potatoes. “You didn’t put garlic in those again, did you?”
“Of course, they’re best that way,” Karissa said. She pushed the bowl into his hands and pointed to the adjoining dining room. Marsh and Karisssa followed behind Hank with the final supplies for dinner.
“They’re so much better the way nature intended them—butter, milk, and loads of gravy.” Hank set the bowl of potatoes in the middle of the table.
“You’re a redneck who can’t stand to try anything new.” Karissa turned to Marsh. “You like them better with garlic, don’t you?”
“Actually,” Marsh deadpanned, “I prefer anchovies. They add just the right amount of flavor.” He liked the way she made them but couldn’t help but tease.
“Anchovies?” Karissa wrinkled her nose in disgust, which he found insanely cute.
“You’re such a liar. You hate anchovies,” Hank said.
“Yeah, but it was funny to see her reaction.” Marsh shifted away as Karissa mock-threatened to hit him.
Beth and Robert came in from the other room and Robert glared at all of them. “A potato is a potato, no matter how you dress it up. And I like them with garlic, so you boys just sit for dinner.” He included both men in his look.
Marsh took his seat beside Karissa, feeling like he belonged. It was good to be part of a family—even if it wasn’t technically his own.
Karissa noticed Marsh’s gaze on her throughout dinner and, as she cleaned up, he came in to help her, working by her side. He filled the time with talk about how the boys on his team were doing and some funny anecdotes about things kids said in his class. He asked about how Paul was adjusting in school and let her vent about frustrations at work.
When the last dish had been dried, the food was tucked away in the fridge, and everything was wiped down, Karissa felt at loose ends. It was the first time she’d had in several days when her mom didn’t need something, and household chores didn’t clamor for attention. Her mother had been doing better in the past couple of days, but Karissa still took on as many of the household responsibilities as she could. Combine that with her weird sleeping schedule, and she was exhausted almost all the time.
Marsh watched her as she scrubbed down the fronts of the cupboards, then removed the dishcloth from her hands. “You’ve been killing yourself trying to take care of everyone. Take it easy. Working yourself so hard isn’t doing anyone any favors.”
“Neither is sitting around letting things fall apart.” She turned back toward the cupboards and pulled out a large mixing bowl. Her arms felt like jelly, and she really wanted to just lie down and take a nap but didn’t think her brain would turn off. She hadn’t been able to get the very-pregnant Sheryl out of her mind, or stop counting her own abundant shortcomings. “Cookies, I’m going to make cookies. They’re comfort food and that’s always welcome, right?”
“Hold on.” Marsh grabbed the edge of the bowl and set it on the counter. Then he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “You’re tired. You need to relax, not make cookies. Your family will survive if you take a couple of hours to yourself.”
Feeling her chest tighten, she lifted her face to meet his gaze, tears brimming in her eyes. She’d always cried when she was overwhelmed and down on herself. “Everything is out of control.”
Marsh pulled her close, wrapping her in his arms. “Your mom is doing better, your son is safe with his dad, you have a good job and family here for you. Things aren’t what you want them to be, you’ve been through a lot of crap, but you don’t have to control every little detail of your life. Trying to is going to drive you crazy.”
To her surprise, she found it easy to accept the comfort he offered, realizing again how broad his shoulders were, how solid his muscles. The spicy scent of his cologne tickled her senses and she rubbed her cheek against the soft cotton of his T-shirt. She pushed away her attraction to him, letting his friendship soothe her. She could take that offer without risking part of herself.
Karissa opened her eyes in time to see her mother slink back away from the kitchen with a little smile on her face. Realizing what her mother must be thinking, she
pulled away from Marsh, feeling awkward and embarrassed. “Thanks, I didn’t realize I needed someone to hold on to.”
“Anytime.” His aqua eyes searched her face for a long moment. “I guess I ought to get going. Walk me to my truck?” He let go of her arms and collected his coat from the hook by the back door. He slid it on and grabbed hers from the hook, bringing it to her.
“But I…” Karissa trailed off when he nudged her shoulders to make her turn her back to him so he could hold her coat for her. Why argue when she wanted to give in anyway?
They were out in the late November cold before she could think to say anything else. She felt oddly breathless after the intimacy of the hug, though it had to have been a friendly gesture on his part. When he picked up her hand and gave it a squeeze, she felt both friendly and romantic emotions tangle inside her. “My mom saw us in there and walked away to give us privacy. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.”
“And what idea would that be?” he asked.
“You know how mothers are, always trying to find ways to make their kids happy. She considers you part of the family already; I don’t want her to misconstrue our friendship for something more.” Karissa was afraid she would be the one to misread things and that she would start wanting things he didn’t reciprocate.
“Right.” Marsh nodded in agreement. “We don’t want her to think I have feelings for you outside of friendship.”
Karissa wasn’t sure why his lips tipped up in a smile. She glanced away, sure her face was burning at her audacity to even mention the subject. Why did she feel like such an idiot? Marsh equaled friend. He was practically her big brother. She shouldn’t feel attracted to him.
“I never told you how sorry I was about the divorce.” Marsh’s comment came out of the blue as they approached his vehicle and threw Karissa off kilter.
“You aren’t sorry. You never liked Dennis.” She turned in front of the driver’s door to face him and realized he was closer than she thought. She stepped back and ran into the side of the truck.
“I’m not sorry to see him gone, but I’m sorry he hurt you.” Marsh placed a hand on the corner of the front door, blocking her between him and the vehicle with the side-view mirror closing the box.
Karissa turned her head and pushed away the ache that started in her stomach. The past was over and couldn’t be fixed. “I haven’t made the best choices in guys over the years. You and Hank and Bo never liked any of them.” She kept talking, filling the space with words, even as she told herself to shut up. His proximity made her a little nervous, self-conscious. “I can’t decide if you all hated them on principle or if I just had that bad of taste. I used to think it was all principle, but for the past year or so I’ve been wondering if I was wrong.”
Marsh leaned closer. “Do you want to know a secret?” His voice was low and conspiratorial. “It was mostly the principle of the thing.”
When Karissa turned her head back, his face was only a few inches away, and her breath caught in her chest as his gaze captured hers. “Really? And what was that principle, exactly?” Her words came out in little more than a whisper, mimicking his.
“Well, your brothers had to hate him because they were your brothers. They pretty much were obligated to hate anyone you wanted to date.” He shrugged in emphasis. “It was their job.”
Karissa’s heart pounded and she couldn’t look away. Tension grew between them, and the cold evening air chilled her face while her racing heart made her sweat under her coat. “So what was your excuse?”
He paused for a long moment as the tension between them increased, coiling around them. “I just hated anyone you dated...because they weren’t me.”
Karissa felt a tug of joy before she realized he must be teasing her again. She forced a laugh, though she hurt at the thought of him treating her feelings so lightly. “No, seriously.”
“Seriously.” His breath fanned out across her cheek and the calm tone of his voice reinforced his word. “I always wanted to go out with you but, first, you were too young to date, and then, I was in college and you were still in high school. When you graduated you were dating someone. It just never seemed to be our time.”
Amusement was the feeling Karissa chose of the several that ran through her at his admission—she couldn’t deal with anything else bubbling inside her. She leaned her head just an inch closer and asked in a stage whisper. “You had a thing for me all those years ago?”
“No.” He lifted his hand and caressed her cheek with his fingertips. “I still have a thing for you. I always have. And guess what? You’re no longer too young for me.” He held her gaze for several long seconds while she digested that, then he shifted back, leaving an avenue of escape.
Karissa retreated several steps before turning to him again, her stomach shaking, still not sure she believed the words he’d just spoken.
“I’ll give you some time to think that over. I’ve never found anyone else, because none of them could measure up to you.” Marsh stuffed his hands into his coat pockets, his gaze riveted on her. “Just give me a chance to show you what we can be.”
She didn’t understand. How could anyone feel that way for her for so many years, when her husband couldn’t wait to get rid of her? “I’ve been mostly ornery and irritable with you since I came home, and I’m the measuring stick you’ve been using?”
“Your attitude is all bluster and cover up. I see you underneath the shield, Karissa. I see you: scared, worried, exhausted, needing to prove yourself over and over again.” His smile held an edge of satisfaction. “I enjoy the snap of color in your cheeks and the way your eyes shine. I want you to think about me, about us. After more than a dozen years, I doubt my feelings for you are going to disappear in the next week. Figure out what you want.” In punctuation, he closed the few steps separating them and his lips brushed her forehead, then he climbed into his truck.
She watched him pull away, not sure she believed what she’d heard. Marsh Willmore was interested in her? Seriously? Her heart fluttered, and she allowed herself to hope.
If he could still be interested after she’d treated him so badly, could there really be a chance for them? She didn’t know the answer, but she thought it might be fun to find out.
Marsh was swamped with the basketball team and his classes. Thanksgiving had come and gone, and the Christmas break was less than two weeks away. He was ready for a few days to catch up on correcting homework, and more opportunities to see Karissa.
The team was doing well. They hadn’t lost a game yet and had some of the strongest players Marsh had ever worked with. This was their year for a state championship. Marsh didn’t say it out loud, afraid it would be bad luck, but he worked the boys even harder, pushing them into top shape and recognizing their improvements.
As he watched at practice, scrutinizing every move, making notes on what they needed to work on next and where the weak spots were, he let his eyes fall on each of the players for a moment. Chris hadn’t gotten caught drinking again, and his grades were more than acceptable, but he seemed to have pulled back from some of the other boys and wasn't responding as openly to the assistant coach.
Mike Menendez was quick on his feet and one of the least selfish players Marsh had ever worked with. He was fast to save a shot that didn’t make it and toss it to someone better positioned to hit the hoop. His last weekly grade report showed he was keeping up. Of all the kids on his team, Marsh thought that Mike had come the furthest and had the best likelihood of not just college hoops but possibly a pro career as well.
Connor Travis was only a junior, 6’3”, quick and agile, and one of their best scorers. He also had a chip on his shoulder a mile wide, and while he didn’t give Marsh any lip, his eyes spoke volumes of his bitterness. He was the student Marsh worried about most.
Thankfully, those players with whom Marsh had been unable to connect seemed to have found a friend in his assistant coach Rex, who really understood the kids and pushed them to be their best. He h
ad been a great player in his college days and had a lot of potential as a coach. He would be an excellent replacement someday when Marsh was ready for a break—which wouldn’t be any time soon.
With a blow of his whistle, Marsh called an end to the practice. He reminded the boys of their earlier curfew because of the next night’s game and sent them to the showers. Rex crossed the court to him and grinned. Marsh felt ready to crash in exhaustion, but Rex seemed eager and energetic still; it was incredible.
“What do you think, Marsh?”
“Good practice. We need to work on Jerry’s jump shot though.” He spoke of another senior, one who had made some improvement this season already but still wasn’t one of the shining stars on the team. That was fine by Marsh’s calculation; Jerry was dependable and had a knack of always being in the right place. That counted for a lot. “Some of the other players could use some practice on that too. We need to hit that at next practice.”
“Chris could use some help at the top of the key. I’m going to work with him some over the holiday,” Rex said.
“Great.” Marsh grabbed the mesh bag with all of the practice balls in it and headed for the storage room. “Don’t you ever get tired?”
Rex laughed. “You’re just getting to be an old man. Either that or you’ve had too many late nights with your girlfriend lately.”
The thought of Karissa brought a smile to Marsh’s mouth, but he shook his head. He’d been biding his time since he told her that he was interested in her. She was definitely warming up, but he wanted to give her time to get used to the idea first. And he’d been insanely busy.
“Unfortunately not," Marsh admitted. "I’ve been working on my house. I want to get started on the kitchen over the holidays.”
Second Chances: Love in Juniper Ridge (Carver Ranch Book 1) Page 7