Sisters of Spirit, Pure Romance Set

by Nancy Radke

  His hand reached out to lift her troubled face to him, the thumb stroking gently along her jawline. “Will you marry me, my dear?”

  She shook her head sharply sideways. “No. I’m sorry.” And again, “No.” At his stricken look, she added swiftly, “At least not yet. Please, Logan, try to see it from my side. I don’t know anything about this life you lead or how well I’d do in it.”

  “You’d do fine.”

  “So you say, but I must know for myself. It frightens me. I need time to adjust; to study this out and come to grips with it myself. And I can’t give you an answer until I know you better. I won’t marry anyone I don’t feel I know well enough. I have my own pet proverb: ‘Marry in haste, repent in leisure.’”

  “But would you consider me?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  He let out a large groan of relief. “Good.” Then seeming to have some doubts remaining, he questioned cautiously, “Football and all?”

  “Yes,” she agreed reluctantly. “I guess I can learn a little bit about football. Maybe enough to know what you’re talking about. But you paint a grim picture.”

  With a quick grin he picked her up and swung her around, promising not to talk football to her. “I leave it behind on the field. And the other wives...they support each other. They’ll help you.”

  A sudden thought made her look quizzically at him. “If you only play once a week, why couldn’t you come see me more often? And why only on Tuesdays?” Then apologized for the questions, as it struck her as prying.

  “No, that’s okay. If you don’t ask, you don’t find out. And I’ll answer your questions. No more mystery. Just let me know when you’ve heard enough. When I first saw you, in August, it was before the season started. We were having practice games...Thursdays and Fridays. We had a game against Seattle and I stayed over to see something of the city before flying back to Green Bay. During the regular season, our games are on Sundays—with the exception of a Monday or a Thursday night game. We didn’t get any of those last year...and just one this year against Boston.”

  “No Saturday games?”

  “That’s when the colleges play. After their season gets over, some of the pro teams have Saturday games.”

  “I see.”

  She listened interestedly as he gave a run-down of the week, motioning him to continue when he would have stopped, afraid of boring her. Some of this she needed to know.

  “Tuesday after a game, most guys spend recovering. It’s our only full day off. I come see you if I can. The coaches look at films and scouting reports for next week’s game. Wednesdays and Thursdays they meet with the players, we have a workout and look at what they want us to work on, do a little practice on those things. We don’t tackle.

  “Friday, a light workout; Saturday we pump iron, practice and walk through the entire game plan. Saturday night we meet at the team hotel, then to chapel, then to bed early; Sunday is tension time so we fool around in the locker room beforehand. That’s when some of those practical jokes get played. To ease tension.”

  “It sounds like you don’t get much personal time.”

  “Which is why it can be so hard on the wives. They have to take a back seat to the game until the season is done. For some of them, it’s too long. Or they don’t want to move when the player is traded.”

  “I see.”

  “It’s hard because the week is so broken up with practices. I have some extra time, so that’s when I do my metal sculptures. And I have other commitments I made before I met you. I’ve shuffled some around, but some I can’t get out of.”

  “And Ken? What’s his name?”

  “James Kenneth Earle...Jake. From his initials. It got shortened early in his career. Nobody calls him Ken anymore; I had an awful time remembering to.”

  “Serves you right for being so sneaky. Can I tell Chantal?”

  “I think she already knows. When I called her, she asked where I was. I said Boston and she wanted to know if Jake was with me or already back at Green Bay. I didn’t realize what she’d said until I was flying out here.”

  “Do you live in Green Bay, too?”

  “Yes. That’s why I couldn’t tell you where I lived. If I’d played for Chicago or somewhere else, it wouldn’t have mattered. But you tell anyone Green Bay...anyone—whether they know anything about football or not—and they think “football.”

  Alison laughed openly at his expression. Poor Logan had had a hard time trying to see her, keep his identity a secret and still get her to trust him enough to date him. “You made it worse for yourself. I thought you were a crook, being so secretive and beat up all the time. It would’ve been better if you’d have told me right off what you did. Then I wouldn’t have Maced you—maybe,” she added honestly.

  “You think I’m violence prone? I was afraid you’d meet me with a gun if I gave you half an opening. Nothing went right,” he complained. “Not even my proposal just now.”

  “I didn’t give you an unequivocal, ‘No.’ I gave you a very definite, ‘Maybe.’” That was a big decision, for her.

  “When football season is over, I’m going to camp on your doorstep.”

  “It’s cold out there.”

  “Well, I know better than to ask you to share an apartment, so I’ll rent one in your building and move in. Then when we say ‘Goodnight’ I won’t have to travel so far away.”

  They strolled further across the sunlit fields, hand in hand, he trying to fill her in to that part of his life previously hidden. Logan’s salary had helped his dad retool the garage he owned so he was able to fix new cars with their computerized parts and remain competitive in their Tennessee town. It had remodeled his parent’s house so that his mother had a lovely new kitchen. “She wouldn’t move out, so we just fixed up around her.”

  And it had bought a large farm which was in the hands of a manager while he played. “Beautiful, rich topsoil. Lowland soil in limestone country. You could bring your horse with you; we could ride together,” he tempted her. “That’s where I live, off-season. Whether you like football or not, the money I earn has really made a big difference to me and my family.”

  “It’s only the violence that puts me off. People getting hurt—so many people—just to play a game. It seems senseless.”

  “A lot of things that men do are.”

  “Have you and Ken—Jake played a long time?”

  “Yes. We were together in high school and college, but this is our first pro year together. I like a passing game and so does Jake. We think the same way and our timing is near perfect. The coach was wise enough to build a team around us. We’re putting Green Bay back as a contender.”

  “Chantal said that the Wolverines were in the running....” she stopped as he slowly shook his head. “Not any more?”

  “Not this year. We blew them out of the stadium.”

  “Oh, dear. Do you think she’ll speak to Ken—Jake after that?”

  Logan didn’t seem bothered. “I don’t know. She’s your friend.”

  They had part of the day together so they drove over to the nearby town of Renton for lunch. He continued to answer her questions about himself, filling in the gaps, and she discovered his early career had been on and off; it hadn’t been all roses.

  He had won the Heisman trophy in college and was a first round draft pick; then mishandled at the pro level. He was ready to quit when fortunately he was traded to Tennessee and everything started to click. “They actually blocked long enough so that I was able to get off my passes. And they had receivers that could catch. I figured I was there to stay as their first string quarterback, then one year I was abruptly traded to Chicago, sat out a year as second string there, then was traded to Tampa, then Green Bay. That’s why I said I move around a lot...I get moved.”

  At noon they drove to the southern end of Lake Washington and walked down to the water at the beach park, talking quietly, content in each other’s company. It was still hard for Alison to mentally accept that this
quiet, intelligent man with his sparkling sense of humor could play such a violent sport—and like it.

  “Look, there’s something else you need to know.”

  His tone was very serious. She looked expectantly at him.

  “Someone is targeting football players, especially those having extra special years. It’s getting more dangerous off the field than on it.”

  She stiffened. “Targeting? You mean, like trying to hurt them?”

  “Or kill them.”

  “Why?” He wasn’t kidding. She grabbed his arm to steady herself.

  “We don’t know. Whoever is doing it used to try to make it look like an accident. He’s getting more vicious and bold every week. Last week two players were injured while shopping. Hit and run in the parking lots. Two different states, three days apart, each time by a car that was stolen, used, and abandoned.”

  He continued with what had just happened after the game in Boston.

  “Did they get a description?” she asked.

  “Several. Mostly conflicting, although all thought he was fairly young. I’m telling you this so you’ll be prepared if I have to make sudden changes to my schedule. I’m even wondering if I should be coming to see you.”

  “Has this person gone after families, or just the players?”

  “So far, just the players.”

  “It should be okay then.”

  “I don’t know. I want to keep seeing you, but I don’t want to put you in danger.”

  “How would this person find out about me?”

  “He wouldn’t as long as the press doesn’t. I use my real name when I fly and most people don’t know it.”

  “I don’t.”

  He laughed. “My grandfather named me, and he tried to throw in all the family names he knew.”

  “Which was?”

  “Joshua Oathar Verne Logan.”

  “Ouch. What did they call you as you grew up?”

  “My dad is Joshua, so my family calls me Verne, everyone else knows me as Josh Logan.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with Verne.”

  “No. And I use it to fly with. But I prefer Josh.”

  He needed to return to Green Bay that evening, so they drove to the airport to catch the two o’clock flight.

  Just past the counter area, they were assailed by a newswoman who pestered them with questions, intent on following Logan all the way through the security line, trying to find out who Alison was. Alison’s anger at the woman’s rude and persistent questions overrode her dislike of public scenes. It wouldn’t have bothered her as much if it was any one except Logan. Incensed for his sake, not for her own, she blurted out, “What atrocious manners you have! Didn’t anyone ever spank you as a child?”

  The reporter was for a moment at a loss for words, and stood taken aback.

  “Serves you right,” a teenage girl said, who was trying to stand in the line behind them and manage her luggage. “You reporters need to chill out.”

  The woman glared angrily at the teen.

  “Go on, get out,” she told her. “You don’t belong here.”

  “Thanks,” Logan said, as the reporter stalked away. “It’s hard for us to tell them to get lost.”

  “Anytime. Who are you, anyway?”

  “Just a football player.”

  “Oh.” Uninterested now, the teen adjusted her headphones.

  The confrontation had left Alison shaking, although Logan seemed to be used to it. Would she ever be able to handle an interview with an aggressive reporter and not want to give them a hard whack? One good thing had come from the situation...she hadn’t felt fear, just red hot anger. If that was the case, maybe she could handle some parts of this life.

  “Privacy is hard to maintain. Be careful she doesn’t follow you and get your license number,” Logan warned. “Stay anonymous as long as you can.”

  They said their farewells as they reached the security gate, their time together shortened by the airline schedule. He had to take this flight to make the connection at Minneapolis. Alison left immediately, watching for the reporter, but didn’t see her. Nevertheless, she cut through a bathroom as an added precaution, feeling like a wanted person as she took an indirect route to her car.

  Full of questions, thoughts, doubts and new information, she stopped by Chantal’s apartment on the way home. That young woman practically yanked her into the room when she opened the door. “I was right, wasn’t I?” she demanded. “It was Logan and Ken.”

  “Better call him Jake, everyone else does.”

  “Oh, the traitors! They demolished the Wolverines.”

  “So what?”

  “So now I’m going to have to cheer for two teams,” Chantal wailed, her dismay having no effect upon Alison, who didn’t care what team she cheered for...as long as Logan was on it.

  “You were already doing that with Seattle,” Alison pointed out.

  “Three teams then. At least Green Bay is in the play-offs this year. Is Jake a nickname?” she asked, abruptly switching topics.

  Alison explained how he got the name and also related a little about Jake’s career that Logan had revealed.

  “And I thought I could spot a football player a mile off. Come and look. I’ve dug out all I could find on them.” Her table was covered with sports magazines, a small stack being set apart from the rest. Logan’s picture was on the cover of one and Alison quickly picked it up. She ruffled through the pages until she came across the article, sat down and started to read.

  The article was entitled “The Tennessee Touch.” It was evidently a name he’d earned in college for being able to put the ball in his receiver’s hands when there were four other players trying to get it. Where other quarterbacks might put up a “Hail Mary,” he could launch a ball exactly where his receiver would be and just out of the reach of the other team’s players. It was one of the main reasons for his success.

  Logan had warned her about believing everything she read; he said too much of it was in the mind of the writer and not actual fact; but she still felt compelled to read. She spotted an inconsistency with what he had told her right off, and almost put the magazine down.

  It gave statistics on him which meant absolutely zero to her as she had nothing to compare them with. It did mention his hospital visits and work with MD patients, and his help with juveniles who had landed in court. It also mentioned his association with the former Miss America, Jennette Kitsinger, and speculated briefly about their future relationship.

  That she hadn’t wanted to read.

  The photo of him and Jennette showed them on the edge of a swimming pool, the beautiful blonde gazing longingly into Logan’s eyes.

  Nuts. Was he still seeing this gorgeous woman? And did this prove that he sought out only women who were good-looking? Jennette put Alison’s quiet beauty to shame; she had a sparkle that conveyed a shining happiness, apparent even in the black and white photo.

  “Here’s one of Jake and Logan together,” Chantal said, and handed her a magazine with a photo of the two standing on the sidelines, helmets in hand, watching a play.

  It was exciting, seeing photos of someone you knew so well displayed in national magazines. The two women stayed up late, looking at the different pictures and articles. “There’s bound to be more, if we went out and looked for them,” Chantal said.

  “This is plenty. No wonder they looked so beat up now and then. Look at these photos.” They showed a sequence of a player being blind-sided, putting him out of the game. “I wonder how their wives stand it. It must be worse than being married to a policeman.”

  “How about all the wives of servicemen during wartime?”

  “But they don’t have any choice. Logan and Jake chose this job.”

  “So what?”

  “So, Logan asked me to marry him.”

  “Today?” Chantal squealed. “And you didn’t mention it till now?”

  “I told him no...for now.”

  “Are you out of your mind?”<
br />
  “No—”

  “What’s wrong? Is it ‘cause he plays football?”

  “Some, but that’s not all. I just don’t feel I know him well enough. And I don’t know if I can take watching him go into game after game, knowing he can get permanently injured.”

  “Well, there’s only one way you’ll ever find out.”

  “Which is...?”

  “We’ll go see one of their games...if we can get tickets. It’s impossible to get in to some of the games. If you have time off during the Christmas vacation, I’ll ask Jake if they can get us any for the upcoming play-offs.”

  “No, don’t. Let’s see if we can get them some other way first. I’d like to surprise Logan if I can.”

  “But why? Their tickets would be free. And sometimes surprises can backfire. They’ll have their plans and not be expecting us.”

  “They usually fly out here two days after the game, right?”

  “Right.”

  “So, we’ll just fly back with them.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “I’d like to show an interest in Logan—in his job—as a surprise to him. Come on.”

  “Okay. We can always ask Jake for tickets if we can’t get them some other way. He could keep it a secret. I’ll call my dad; he’ll know how to get some if there are any available.”

  “What about your job?”

  “Two—three days won’t matter. Once I get the main Christmas displays in place, I usually don’t change them. My main rush is right now; before the holidays.”

  “School will be out so I’ll have two weeks, but tell your dad to get them for any game he can and I’ll be there.”

  Jake hung up after talking to Chantal. He leaned back in the reclining chair, taking things easy. All the players were staying close to home, and he and Logan had been doing the same. But the team wasn’t playing on Thanksgiving week, so they were going to Seattle.

  “Alison calling tonight?” Jake asked.

  “She said around ten.”

  “Which is 1 AM for us.”

  “I’ll set my alarm.” Logan locked the front door and looked at the slider. “We need a better lock on this.”