by Marin Thomas
“Bobby takes first base.” That was the only call he could make.
“Fine,” Mason said. “But next time you try to bunt, wait for the ball to get closer before you step into it.”
“Why? So you can bean me in the head?” Bobby asked.
“No, because my fastball drops an inch before it gets to the plate.”
Bobby’s eyes widened. “Okay, thanks.” He took a step toward first base, then stopped and came back. He held out his hand and Mason shook it.
The parents applauded in the stands and the game continued. Bobby’s team won in the end despite Mason getting his pitches under control. After shaking hands with the coaches, Gunner removed his protective vest and umpire’s mask and stowed the equipment in his duffel bag, then went searching for Lydia in the stands. He didn’t have to go far—she was waiting outside the visiting team’s dugout.
“Is the boy who got hit by the pitch going to be okay?”
“Bobby’s a tough kid. He’ll be fine.”
“The parents seemed awfully upset when it looked like the boys were going to start a fight.”
“Mason and Bobby have been competing against each other for years. They’re both vying for MVP of the league this season.”
“Whatever you said calmed them down.”
“You sound surprised.”
Her mouth curved into a smile. “It’s just that I’ve never seen you handle a situation like that.”
“I may like to goof off and have fun as much as the next guy, but it’s my job to keep the game under control and I take that responsibility seriously. You don’t screw around when kids are involved.”
Lydia stepped forward and kissed Gunner’s cheek.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“That was for being an awesome umpire.”
He chuckled. “I vote we stop by the root-beer stand on the way out of town.” He took her hand and they walked off the field together, Gunner imagining that he and Lydia had just finished watching their own son play a Little League game.
* * *
“IF I’D KNOWN you could do tile work, I would have had you fix the upstairs bathroom at the ranch.”
Gunner glanced over his shoulder and found his grandfather standing in the doorway late Saturday morning. “Karl’s daughters were sick earlier in the week, so I volunteered to remove the old tiles in the bathrooms. It’s not that hard once you watch how-to videos.” He’d woken early, hoping to finish the bathroom demo in the final two rooms because Karl would be coming by later in the day to begin installing the new tiles. Gunner set aside his tools. “Lydia picked this penny round for the floor.”
“That tile’s from back in my day.”
“It’ll give the rooms a vintage feel to go along with the Western decor. This will be the San Antonio Room after the movie with the same name.”
“Errol Flynn fell in love with a dance-hall girl in that flick. Is this room gonna look like a bordello?”
Gunner grinned. “We’ll find out when the furniture arrives.”
“When will that be?”
“Not sure.”
“Dick Pence has been poking his nose in my business,” Gramps said.
Dick Pence was the new mayor of Mesquite, Texas, and he’d had nothing good to say about Stampede when it came up in conversation. “What kind of poking?”
“He wants a tour of the motel when it’s finished. Ethel Porter ran into his wife at the Walmart and she said her husband was thinking of building a hotel on the south end of town.”
The south end of town was fifteen minutes away from the Moonlight Motel. “He’s worried Stampede will siphon off some of Mesquite’s tourists.”
“Only a fool would pass up a night here to stay in one of those modern, cold hotels.”
Gunner wiggled his finger in his ear, positive he’d misunderstood the meaning behind his grandfather’s words. The old man had opposed renovating the motel from the get-go, but now it sounded as if he was proud Stampede’s only motel was going to be the talk of the area. As much as he hated Amelia Rinehart’s plans to spruce up the town, the old man was beginning to see Stampede’s potential.
“C’mon,” Gunner said. “I’ll show you what we’ve done outside.” He closed the room door after they left, and they walked around behind the building to the cement patio with an outdoor grill and a playground.
“How much did that cost?” Gramps asked.
“It’s not your money, so why do you care?”
“What happened to all the old furniture?”
“We donated it to a charity and a recycling company took the mattresses,” Gunner said.
“What about painting the exterior?”
“It’s on Lydia’s to-do list.”
“Guess it’s an improvement from the dirt and weeds.” Gramps fumbled for a cancer stick in his shirt pocket.
“I thought you’d have finished your birthday cigarettes by now.”
“Last one. I’ve been saving it for an emergency.” He took a long drag.
“What’s the emergency?”
“Amelia hoodwinked me into taking her to the Fourth of July rodeo celebration in Mesquite today.”
When the Fourth of July fell on a weekday, the town of Mesquite held their annual rodeo the weekend before. “You could have said no if you didn’t want to go with her?”
“She’s got something up her sleeve.”
“Like what?”
“I’m guessing she’s looking for more ideas to improve the town.”
“Has she said anything about bringing back the Stampede Rodeo and Watermelon Festival?”
“No, but I’m betting it’s on her mind.”
Gunner had always enjoyed the festival and wouldn’t mind seeing it reinstated. Before Lydia had become pregnant, he hadn’t paid any attention to Stampede’s demise—he’d been too wrapped up in his own life and rodeo. But with Lydia pregnant and him worrying how they’d raise their baby together while living apart, he admitted that Amelia’s plan to bring tourists back to town and revive the economy would work in his favor if he could convince Lydia to relocate to Texas. With her decorating talents she could open a business and sell decor items along with her design services, like that famous husband-and-wife duo in Waco, Texas.
His grandfather took a final drag on the cigarette, then dropped the butt onto the ground and smashed it with his boot heel.
“Hey, no littering.” Gunner tossed the butt into the garbage can next to the new grill.
“When you gonna make an honest woman out of Lydia?”
“Right now I’m just trying to find a way to convince her to let me help raise our baby.” Gunner was doing everything possible to prove he was in it for the long haul with Lydia, but it was difficult to tell if he was making any progress.
“If you care about her, you’ll protect her reputation.”
Speaking of relationships... “Gramps, I’m going to throw this out there because it’s been bugging me.”
“What’s that?”
“Do you have romantic feelings for Amelia Rinehart?”
His grandfather’s eyes widened, then narrowed to alligator slits. “I got feelings for the woman, all right. She annoys the dickens out of me.”
“The afternoon you found out Amelia wanted to spruce up the motel you ranted about her stubbornness and grandiose ways, but you let something slip.”
“What’s that?”
“You said you were glad nothing came of your feelings for her.”
“You must have been smoking weed that afternoon.”
“Were you her boyfriend in high school?”
“We dated some.” Gramps’s shoulders slumped. “Guess your grandmother’s been dead long enough that I can confess I was sweet on Amel
ia.”
“How sweet?”
His grandfather’s mouth twitched. “We went together for almost a year.”
“What happened?”
“We argued about something and then she broke up with me.”
Gunner felt bad for his grandfather. “What about Grandma?”
“After Amelia married Robert, she pushed me and your grandmother together.”
“Did you love Grandma?”
“Your grandmother was a good woman.”
It didn’t escape Gunner’s notice that his grandfather hadn’t answered the question. “If Grandma and Amelia were best friends, don’t you think she’d approve of you and Amelia getting together now?”
The old man squirmed under Gunner’s probing stare. “We’re too old for that nonsense.” Before Gunner could challenge him, his grandfather said, “This is the hardest you’ve worked since you were born.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Don’t get a big head, boy.”
“Speaking of impressing Lydia, I need to get back to work.”
“I was hoping you’d take the day off and ride along to Mesquite with me and Amelia.”
“You want me to be your wingman?”
Gramps nodded.
“But you wanted the motel finished ASAP so Amelia would get off your back.”
“That was before you got her niece pregnant. Now that you’re in a pickle, you need more time to woo that gal.”
His grandfather was right—for a change. “Give me ten minutes to take a shower.” Shoot, Lydia hadn’t come by the motel in days, so she’d never know he’d left.
* * *
“YOU’VE BEEN COOPED up inside the house for too long, dear.”
Lydia kept her gaze on her laptop screen, where she was perusing children’s playroom furniture. “I’m fine, Aunt Amelia.”
“Fresh air will do you and the baby good.”
“I got lots of fresh air a few nights ago at the Little League game.”
“Gunner’s been umpiring for a few years now. My friend Glenda’s grandson plays in the league. According to Glenda’s daughter-in-law, Gunner’s great with the kids.”
“He is.” When Gunner had dropped her off after the game, Lydia had sat on the porch and stared at the stars, thinking he was a jigsaw puzzle and she was searching for that single piece that would connect all the others to create the whole picture. Any reservations she’d had about his commitment to their child had been laid to rest when she’d witnessed how he’d handled the squabble between the star baseball players. For a guy who claimed he’d never planned to have kids, he sure was good with them.
“You shouldn’t stay home all by yourself.”
Her aunt had woken on a mission—to coerce Lydia into accompanying her and Emmett Hardell to the Mesquite Fourth of July rodeo. Why the two were going together in the first place was a mystery.
Amelia removed her sun hat and placed it on the kitchen table, then perched her hands on her hips. Her determined stance pulled Lydia’s attention away from her online shopping.
“The real reason I need you to come with me today is because I don’t want to be alone with Emmett.”
“That’s no surprise. I’m amazed you two haven’t come to blows over the motel renovation.”
“That man is as stubborn as a mule.” Amelia fiddled with the buttons on her blouse. “But his cantankerous personality isn’t the reason he frustrates me.” She walked over to the windows and stared at the backyard.
Lydia closed her laptop and said, “Then what is the reason?”
“I think Emmett’s keeping a secret from me.” Her aunt smiled at her reflection in the glass. “Unless we’re arguing, he won’t look me in the eye. I asked Sara about it years ago and she said I was imagining things and changed the subject.” Her aunt turned away from the window.
“Maybe he never got over you breaking up with him,” Lydia said.
“I don’t even remember what we argued about that led me to stop seeing him.” She drew in a shallow breath. “It was only a few weeks later that I ran into Robert. I told you the story about chasing the dog all the way into town and finding him with Robert.” She paced across the room. “What I didn’t tell you is that later that day at the supper table my father said everyone was talking about a young man surveying properties in the area for Shell Oil.”
“You mean Robert?”
Amelia nodded. “When I told Sara I’d run into Robert earlier in the day, she’d suggested we doll ourselves up and go into town looking for him. We found him at the Saddle Up Saloon.”
“You girls didn’t get carded?”
“Nope. Robert asked me to dance and I fell hard for his three-piece suit and expensive cologne.” Her aunt stared into space as if reliving the moment. “Sara left the bar early and Robert offered to drive me home. I barely made it in before my curfew because—” Amelia blinked, then looked Lydia straight in the eye “—we had sex in the back seat of his car.”
Wow. Lydia hadn’t seen that coming.
“He left town the next day. A month later I discovered I was pregnant.”
Double wow.
“Emmett wanted to reconcile, but he didn’t know I was pregnant.” Her aunt wrung her hands. Even though decades had passed, the story was still difficult for her aunt to divulge. “A couple of months went by. Then Robert showed up out of the blue and offered to marry me.”
“Did he say how he found out you were pregnant?”
Amelia shook her head. “I didn’t ask, but I assumed it was my father. I hadn’t confessed to my parents that I was pregnant, but I’d confided in Sara and I’m sure she shared the news with her mother, who in turn told mine.”
“You never asked your folks?”
“I was too afraid and they never brought up the subject.”
“What happened to the baby, Aunt Amelia?”
“I miscarried at three and a half months. After several more miscarriages in as many years Robert and I stopped trying.”
“Oh, Amelia, I’m sorry.”
“I honestly think Robert was relieved we never had children.” She joined Lydia at the table. “He traveled all the time and his career was his top priority.”
Lydia could only imagine how lonely her aunt had been with no husband around and no children to keep her company.
“A few weeks before Sara passed away, she confessed that Emmett still had feelings for me and she gave us her blessing to be together.”
“Did you tell Emmett about your talk with Sara?”
“No, because he spurned all my efforts to renew our friendship.”
“So do you want me to come along today to keep you from punching or kissing Gunner’s grandfather?”
Her aunt’s cheeks flushed and Lydia caught a glimpse of what a younger Amelia must have looked like decades ago.
Emmett was a fool.
“I’ll come along,” Lydia said. Playing referee between the old couple would keep her mind off Gunner and the temptation to check up on him at the motel.
* * *
“I DIDN’T KNOW Gunner was joining us,” Amelia said after she opened the back door and found both Hardell men standing on the porch.
Lydia’s gaze roamed over Gunner. He looked like a cowboy today in faded jeans, a Western shirt and brown boots that matched his hat and her heart exhaled a tiny sigh.
“Gunner’s been working hard, Aunt Amelia.” Lydia stepped onto the porch. “He deserves a day off.” Her pulse jumped when he winked at her.
The four walked to Gunner’s truck. Emmett held the door open for Amelia and helped her into the back seat, then got in next to her. Gunner waited until Lydia climbed into the front seat, before shutting the door after her. The pickup didn’t even make it to the end
of the driveway before the old couple began sparring.
“Don’t know why you have to go spy on another town’s celebration,” Emmett said.
“Your ears don’t work well anymore, so I thought seeing what Mesquite is doing to improve their economy might help you understand my goals.”
“I don’t recall you putting your hat in the ring for mayor during the last election,” Emmett said.
“Since you brought up the subject...”
Lydia lowered the visor and pretended to check her lipstick, all the while keeping an eye on the back seat.
“The Stampede Women’s League is encouraging me to run against you in the next election.”
“Bunch of nosy busybodies.”
“Those busybodies helped elect you. Have you forgotten all the posters they put up around town and the fund-raiser they sponsored in order to pay for the new voting booth?”
“People could have written my name on a piece of paper and dropped it into a hat.”
“This isn’t the Wild West anymore, Emmett. Stampede needs to attract young families again or the town will dry up and die off.”
“If you ask me, this country needs more towns like ours.”
“No one asked you.”
Lydia jumped inside her skin when she felt the warm touch of Gunner’s fingers trapping her hand against the console between their seats. A tingling sensation traveled up her arm and spread through her chest, the intensity fueled by the memory of their lovemaking. Just because she’d kept her distance from the motel didn’t mean Gunner hadn’t been on her mind, especially at bedtime. At night lying in the dark with her hand resting on her belly, she’d wished with all her heart for a happy outcome to her and Gunner’s situation, which right now seemed impossible when the two of them would live thirteen hundred miles apart.
Gunner waggled his eyebrows, obviously making fun of the bickering duo. Lydia laughed out loud.
“What’s so funny?” Emmett asked.
Gunner saved her from answering when he turned on the radio and country music filled the cab. The back seat grew quiet and the remainder of the ride into Mesquite was made in silence with Gunner holding her hand.
After they parked at the fairgrounds, the Hardell men helped the ladies out of the truck.