One and Done (Red River Romance Book 3)

by Caryl McAdoo

  She brought back the mic. “Now, you know, the naysayers scoff at your claim that God healed your pitching arm and set you on this path. You’ve heard the stories. They’re speculating that, instead, you discovered or bought a new, undetectable PED. Care to comment?”

  “Oh, not really. Such claims don’t even warrant a mention in my humble opinion, but I do not, have not, nor will I ever, take a performance-enhancing drug. In college, even playing third, my shoulder hurt so bad I started taking too many legally prescribed drugs to dull the pain, but refused steroids.”

  “Would you say you were addicted?”

  “I definitely would. Lot of folks claimed that’s why I flunked out at UT, but that wasn’t any more true than the rumors the gossipmongers are putting out today.

  “Truth is I discovered the game of Hold ’Em and figured out I needed clear wits to play the game, I quit the pills cold turkey. They didn’t have a thing to do with my grades. I just chose a different sport.”

  She nodded her understanding. “And what about your poker playing days? As exemplified with their treatment of baseball legends Shoeless Joe Jackson and Pete Rose, to name only a few, MLB has always vehemently shunned gambling and gamblers.”

  “I’ve played poker, and that’s the extent of my gambling. Never bet on any sport and never will.”

  “And how do you reconcile Hold ’Em and your faith?”

  “Oh, I know the church ladies’ll probably scorn me over this, but risk-taking is just like drinking or eating, a necessary part of life. Bible never says God hates gambling, but I’ve never considered myself a gambler anyway. I do like playing games for a living. Used to be a poker player, now I play baseball.”

  She’d heard it before but… “Care to elaborate on something you just said? Especially that drinking part. I mean I know you were talking water, but haven’t you stated in the past you don’t imbibe any alcoholic beverages?”

  “That’s right, a promise I made my Pappaw.”

  “So drinking’s a no-no, but drugs were okay?”

  “Like I said, any pain pills I ever ingested, a physician prescribed. And while I may have had my share of illegal ones before I got saved, I haven’t had any since, and I’ve never taken a drink in my life.”

  “Never?”

  “Nope, never even tasted the stuff.”

  “How about when your teammates poured the bubbly all over you the other night? You didn’t sneak a little lick?” She threw it back to him, licked her lips then gave him another sloppy air kiss.

  He laughed. “No, Samantha Danielle. I’m high on life. Alcohol’s a downer, and I gave my word. Why would I want even a sneaky taste?”

  “But you maintain drinking in moderation is fine with you and God, right?”

  “Sure. It’s in Proverbs, and even the Apostle Paul said take a little wine for your stomach’s sake. The little part is the key.”

  “On another topic, speculation over your contract is running rampant. What can you tell us?”

  “Nothing really.”

  “And why not?”

  He smiled. “It’s nobody’s business. Just like our relationship is no one else’s business. Well, parents have a certain right, but I’m basically a private person. That’s one reason I put it in my contract I only wanted to give on-air interviews to you.”

  “Which I have so enjoyed.”

  “And, well…” He laughed. “That was actually down toward the bottom of the list, but we’ll save that for another time.”

  “How about tonight’s game? Any predictions?”

  “Sure, the game will start at exactly five minutes after seven, and both the Ranges and Tigers will do everything in their power to win.”

  “That’s it. You going to throw another no-hitter?”

  “My goal with every batter is to get him out, while on the other hand, he’s trying to hit the hide off the ball. Time will tell how that works out.”

  “Thank you, Gij.” She faced the camera. “Johnson here may not want to predict tonight’s outcome, but I’m perfectly willing. I say, Rangers three, Tigers nothing, nada runs, none, zilch. I predict a win for G.H. Johnson. A shutout for sure, maybe a no-hitter, but Johnson will absolutely take the Rangers to the win column tonight. Period. Of course, I am biased.” She pumped her fist into the air. “Go, Rangers.”

  She waited until April gathered all her equipment and got gone before tugging on his sleeve. “Okay, big boy, what kind of illegal drugs are we talking?”

  “Why do you want to go there?”

  “Because I want to know everything.”

  “Okay, fine. I smoked MaryJane like a fiend for a couple of years and did a little cocaine. Basically, that’s it. Always steered clear of hallucinogenics or anything stronger.”

  “That’s good to know.” She leaned forward and bounced her shoulders at him alternatively. “You’re not so goody-two-shoes as I thought. So comforting.”

  “Heavens, woman, don’t you have something to do? Go on, haul it off. I’ve got to get ready for tonight’s game.”

  No matter how bad she wanted a real one, she settled for blowing a kiss right onto his smacker.

  “Yes, of course. I have all kinds of work to do, like studying up on all those ill-fated Detroit Tigers whom you’ll be striking out and thinking up embarrassing questions for your mid-game interview. You run along and go do what you have to if you don’t want to sit out here with me.”

  She watched until he disappeared into the dugout then headed for the media room. Even though she knew where he was—not more than a quarter mile away—she hated not being with him.

  Maybe that’s what it meant to be in love; not being able to stand any separation. Twenty-four/seven would certainly be her druthers.

  She put the unanswerable love question out of her mind and went to working on an angle for that mid-game that didn’t involve whether or not his arm hurt. Ended up, she didn’t have as much time as she thought because her dad and Cate showed up early for the game.

  After greetings and hugs, she guided them up to the luxury box and ordered them some snacks with the promise for a good dinner after the game.

  She pointed out where she’d be standing most the game and got the wide screen set up for close-ups on the interviews. “And here’s a blank tape so you can record it and watch it again at home.

  She’d never seen her daddy so excited, and Corrie Cate acted downright giddy. Besides the elaborate fancy place to watch Gij pitch, she went on and on about her new dishwasher delivered earlier in the week. A tear fell out of Daddy’s eye when he thanked her for his new television, but she brushed it off like it was only a mosquito.

  Finally with the hoopla and player introductions complete, both teams lined up on the field, and after the national anthem rang out in four-part harmony from a great male quartet, the game was on.

  Late, her mother gestured frantically from the box until she acknowledged her with a little finger wave. Stupid Fred shook hands with her daddy.

  As the game unfolded, it wasn’t the Rangers versus the Tigers at all, but a pitching duel between Justin Verlander and Gij. While Detroit’s ace was perfect, Johnson allowed a base runner in six of the first seven innings; three on walks, a hit batter—ouch—and two hits.

  At least half of her prediction still held. Didn’t look like the Rangers would be able to scratch out three runs though. Then, like the man upstairs flipped a switch, the Ranger bats came alive and torched Verlander for three earned runs. Johnson kicked it in overdrive and mowed down the last nine batters for his seventh shutout, tenth consecutive win, and ninety-fourth inning without an earned run.

  The celebration seemed a bit restrained. Gij said all the right things, thanked all the right people, and would not brag on himself no matter what she tried in his post-game interview. Sammi Dan’s elation faded through dinner and even more the closer the little parade of Gij’s got to the house.

  Twenty years. That’s how long it’d been since she spent a night under t
he same roof as her mother. Well, at least this time it was Charlie and Freddie in Gij’s and her home. Of course, Johnson played the perfect host serving drinks and pulling out the trays of finger snacks and desserts he’d obviously ordered through Mrs. Rayor—or her daughter Roxi. And of course, he offered sweet liquors and fancy coffees.

  Yeah, right. Normal family get-together her eye!

  Cate caught her alone in the kitchen. “Sweetheart, I’m certain it was only an oversight, but Gij carried my bag to the same room as your daddy’s, and that just won’t work for me.”

  “Oh, no! You’re right. I’m so sorry. Guess we just think of the two of you as old married folks.” Sammi Dan bit her lip. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that you’re old. Being as the arrangement is the same way here, you’d think of all people I would have remembered to say something. I’m so sorry.”

  “Now don’t you worry, not a problem. I can sleep on the sofa.”

  “You will do no such thing. Mom and Freddie don’t live that far. They can go home. I won’t have you sleeping on the couch when you are our guest.”

  “Oh, dear, but I would never be responsible for you sending your mother home. Besides, Fred was saying how bad he hated driving at night. I’ll be fine on the sofa, really.”

  She reached for, then lifted her daddy’s fiancée’s hand. “Cate, If you won’t let me send her home—and I’d love to get her out of here—then you’ll have my room and I’ll take the couch.”

  “No, no, that’s a sweet offer, but I can’t run you out of your own bed. How about we share it. I sleep pretty still.” She leaned forward. “You’re not a kicker, are you?”

  Sammi Dan giggled. “No, I don’t think so and that works for me. I’d be happy to share.

  Freddie turned in first then like the rats they were, Gij and her daddy abandoned her sinking ship as though leaving the ladies to visit was the gentlemanly thing to do.

  “Oh, Sweetie, I need my bag out of there. I’ll be bunking with Samantha tonight.”

  Her daddy retrieved the suitcase, sitting it at her feet. She lifted it and as though she was the pied piper or something, Cate and Charlie followed her to her room.

  Her mom gasped, sat her wine goblet on the dresser and walked straightaway to the wedding dress hanging in the corner on the special arm delivered with the gown.

  “It’s so gorgeous, Samantha Danielle! My dear Lord, I’ve never in my life seen anything like it. You are going to be the most beautiful bride ever.”

  Cate joined her ogling over all the lace and crystals and pearls. “Oh my, my, yes, darling, you will indeed. This is exquisite.”

  Her mother faced her. “When did you get it? Is a date set for the wedding? I could help you with invitations and flowers and everything.” She turned back to the fairy tale dress. “How much did this set you back, honey? Fred and I could help.”

  “And I’m certain your daddy and I –”

  She held up her hands. “Stop, you two. Gij bought it for me. He found it online and we both loved it. I never would have got it, but he insisted and it only cost about half of what he made tonight playing the game he loves, so…”

  Pecan Pralines! Why did her mother have to ever come into her room anyway? Prying, asking too many questions. She was not about to horn in on Sammi and Cate’s party sleeping in there. Why didn’t she just get out and go be with her Freddie. Isn’t that who she chose over Sammi Dan every day for the last twenty-four years?

  She closed her eyes, sighed, then opened them and locked on to her mother’s. “There’s no date set. Gij thought we’d eliminate the need to shop after—if or when—we get our issues settled.”

  Cate sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ve never known anyone as generous as that man, and he certainly seems to adore you, Sweetheart.”

  Retrieving her wine, her mother spun. “Are you saying that dress cost like thirty thousand dollars?”

  “Actually, Mom, more like a hundred and thirty thousand.”

  “Shut up. I know you are not telling me he made a quarter million dollars tonight. Fred said he wasn’t making hardly anything, that the Rangers were ripping him off.”

  She glanced at Cate then back to Charlie. Uh. Uh. Oh. When was she ever going to learn to keep her big mouth shut? “Okay now, both of you have to promise. And I mean swear!”

  “Exactly what am I swearing to?”

  Cate kissed her pinkie and stuck it out. “I swear and I promise for certain and for sure.”

  Why couldn’t Sammi Dan’s own mother have as much faith in her, trust her like Cate? “Mom.”

  “Oh, all right. Do I have to kiss my finger?”

  “No. Just give me your word and know that I will never forgive you ever if you go back on it.” She turned toward her daddy’s new lady. “I’m not concerned about you ever saying anything. I can’t believe I did. Gij would shoot me if he found out, so you can’t even tell Daddy.”

  “Of course not, dear.”

  A heavy sigh filled the room’s silence. “Or Freddie, Mom, especially not Freddie. You got it?”

  She clucked her tongue. “Samantha Danielle, you know he doesn’t like to be called Freddie.”

  “Mother.”

  “Fine I won’t say anything to anybody. Are you happy now?”

  “Okay, well, Gij is getting the minimum salary, but he worked all kinds of incentive based clauses into his contract. So much for a win, so much per shutout, more for a no-hitter, and now that we’re in the playoffs, it all doubles and keeps doubling every rung of the ladder all the way to the World Series.” If he hadn’t given up those two hits tonight, it would’ve been two million extra.”

  “Please let me tell Fred.”

  “No. I mean it, Mom. Gij is a very private person, and I never should have said anything.”

  “Okay.” She retrieved her wine. “Now let’s get back to those issues that need ironing out. Let’s hear about those. Has he got kids all over Las Vegas, or what?”

  Oh, how she hated her mother judging Gij. How dare she insinuate he’d ever leave his blood born babies and run off on them. And where was she sixteen years ago when Rex crawled all over Sammi Dan? And all those years in between when she made so many bad choices, but instead, she just sighed. “Mostly religion, I guess.”

  “Well, whatever he wants, girl, you work it out. And I mean whatever. You cannot let this one get away.”

  For the first time since she was eight years old, she wholeheartedly agreed with what her mother had to say.

  CHAPTER

  thirty-five

  The slumber party lasted way too long, but at least Sammi Dan didn’t get any shaving cream in her hair. Gij let her sleep until brunch. It irritated her that she had to work that night while the four of them got to lounge around in the luxury box Gij had bought especially for the occasion.

  The way her parents and Corrie Cate and Freddie all acted like they were old high school buddies again totally enjoying their reunion. As if all the bad blood that had been spilled—staining so many lives—never even existed. It was disgusting.

  She endured though. Worked like the trooper she was through the post-game interviews. Endured even through the celebration dinner. Go Rangers. Two games up in the best out of five. Things looked really fine.

  The mob stayed one more night at Gij’s, but all of them disappeared right after Sunday breakfast just before she and Gij had to leave for the stadium. She followed him to the garage and climbed up into his pickup. “So what did you pay for that luxury box? What are they going for these days?”

  “Wasn’t bad at all. I think it’s a good investment.”

  She mulled that answer over but instead of quizzing him on the exact price she explained to the simpleton. “You know they’re gonna want to come every time you pitch now.”

  He glanced over and stared at her. “What’s wrong with that? They’re your parents.”

  She sighed. “She threw me away, Gij. I was eight years old and she didn’t want me.”

 
“Sweetheart, my mother was going to kill me, but I’d give anything if I could have her in my life. Get her clean and sober.”

  Sammi Dan folded her arms over her chest and looked out the window for the longest. He finally pulled out onto Hunter Ferrell heading west, but rode in silence all the way. The ballpark came into view. She turned back toward him. “How come we didn’t go to home group on Thursday?”

  “I didn’t figure you wanted to.”

  “So what? There’s been plenty being crammed down my throat lately that I didn’t want to do.”

  He pulled past the guard shack with a wave and parked the truck before he said anything. “Samantha Danielle, Sweetheart, I love you and I pick you. If you don’t want to have anything to do with your mother and Fred, then we won’t. It’s that simple.” He took her hand and squeezed her fingers. “But I heard her ask you to forgive her the other night. She cannot change the past. No more than any of us.”

  That was good to know. He picked her.

  He came around, opened her door, and helped her out, then headed for the clubhouse. “Later, love.”

  The fact that he always knew exactly what to say to pierce her heart amazed her. She nodded then headed to the media room, amused that he walked away without a thought to the luggage. They so pampered the players.

  Those guys didn’t have to lift a finger, just show up. The equipment men would see that everything got loaded.

  When the plane to Detroit finally reached cruising altitude, and the steward came by, she ordered Gij a soft drink and herself a bourbon and coke then went to studying the handouts for a new angle.

  She couldn’t believe it. Right there on the Tuesday probables, was his name. “Why is he pitching you on Tuesday night?”

  “If we don’t win tomorrow and I can beat them on Tuesday, then I can be ready to throw the second game of the ALCS.”

  “And how many games again in the American League Champion Series?”

  “Seven. They’re all best of seven after the Division Series with Detroit.”

  “Well, in my humble opinion, it’d be lots smarter to save you for the fifth game if needed. I mean, let’s face it. You’re a cinch. He’d have two chances to win without wasting you and if he gets it, then you can pitch the first game against Boston or Oakland, not the second.”