by Mia Ross
She’d be teaching her favorite age group, Marianne thought with a grin of her own. In the school her children attended, so they could still ride with her if they wanted to. While the prospect of going back to college was daunting, she’d figure something out.
She knew this was God’s way of adjusting her course to get her back on track, and she wasn’t about to second-guess Him.
“Going part-time, it could take me a while,” she pointed out. “Is that a problem?”
“As long as you’re enrolled in classes and provide us with your grades, we’ll be happy.”
As much as she wanted to just dive in, she hesitated. “This affects my family, too. I should talk to them first.”
“Not a problem. Let me know what you decide.” Alan stood and extended his hand. “You’re a talented, inspiring teacher, Marianne. We’d be lucky to have you here.”
His parting words echoed what Ridge had said earlier, and as she left his office, she took that as a good sign. When she got home, the kitchen was empty, while the TV in the living room flickered. John and Ridge were stretched out side by side on the floor, their heads propped against the couch. The kids were at either end of the sofa, listening to Simba and Nala sing about falling in love. Tucker lay on top of them in his usual movie-watching spot.
“Hey, there,” Ridge said, sitting up to look at her. “How’d it go?”
“They offered me the job.” They all started cheering, and she raised a calming hand. “The problem is, I have to get my master’s degree. That’s going to take a lot of money and time.”
“We’ll all help out,” Kyle promised. “I can help Emmy with her homework while you do yours.”
“I can make dinner sometimes, Mommy,” Emily added in a very grown-up voice. “I know how to do PBJs, and Uncle John can teach me how to make grilled-cheese sandwiches.”
“Sure thing, darlin’,” he agreed with a bright grin that shifted to Marianne. “Sounds like you’ve got it covered.”
“Except for the money,” she corrected him. “It’s bound to be expensive.”
“You can get on a payment plan with the college,” Ridge told her. “And student loans have real low interest rates.”
“How do you know that?” she asked.
“Mom’s getting her bachelor’s so she can teach special ed. She’s been an aide for years and decided to go all in.”
“I guess that could work,” Marianne allowed, buoyed by their quick acceptance. No one had voiced a single concern, questioning how her new schedule would affect them. “Now I just have to figure out how to manage my own classes while I’m teaching.”
“Mom’s taking some of hers online. I’ll bet UNC does the same thing.”
Ridge was just full of great ideas, she thought with a smile. “I’ll check that out. It would be a good way to start.”
“I have one question,” he said. When she nodded, he went on. “Will this make you happy?”
Without hesitation, she nodded. “Very.”
“Then go for it. You deserve to be happy.”
Tucker barked in agreement, and Marianne laughed as she walked toward her office. “Okay, then. I’ll get the ball rolling.”
“Take your time,” John told her. “Emily can make supper.”
Chapter Four
“They’re here!”
Pulling away from Marianne, Emily ran to meet Matt’s truck in the driveway. He stepped out and swung her up for a hug, tossing her in the air while she laughed. “Welcome home, Uncle Matt! We have a pony named Dopey.”
Setting her down, he grinned. “Just for the day, I hope.”
She nodded eagerly. “Uncle John borrowed him. He’s really cute, Aunt Caty,” she added as the newest Sawyer joined them. “Come see.”
“I’ll be right over,” Caty promised with a hug for her and then Marianne. “First I need to see if your mom needs some help.”
“Everything’s under control,” Marianne told her. “Go ahead.”
Emily tugged Caty toward the awning John had set up for their adorable guest, and Matt draped an arm around Marianne’s shoulders. “Miss me?”
“About as much as you missed us,” she teased, smiling as he kissed her cheek. “Thanks for the phone calls and postcards.”
He gave her a shameless male grin. “We were busy.”
John strolled over and welcomed him home, then said, “We need ice.”
“We do not,” she protested. “I have coolers full of it.”
A mischievous grin spread across his tanned face, and she smacked him. “Don’t do that to me. I can make sure you have to eat your own lousy cooking.”
The buzz of Ridge’s plane circling for a landing interrupted his smart comeback, and Matt shaded his eyes to follow the biplane to the ground. “How’s he doing?”
“Fine,” Marianne replied. “Why?”
Matt shrugged as they headed toward the picnic tables ringing the pond. “No reason. He’s not usually in one place this long is all.”
“You didn’t tell me he was such a good mechanic,” John said. “Whatever breaks, he can fix it. And he’s not a bad hand with a cultivator, either.”
Her brothers drifted toward the grills while John caught Matt up on what had happened at the farm during his honeymoon. Marianne took a seat at an empty table, scanning the spread-out crowd for anything needing her attention. It was one of those perfect summer days that would keep everyone outside until dark, which fit their fireworks plans to a T.
Her entire first grade class was there, along with their families. Kyle and Emily’s classmates and friends were enjoying kickball and playing inner-tube tag in the pond. There was a—more or less—friendly game of horseshoes going on over in the pit John had made. Observing it all from a safe distance, the members of the Harland Ladies League commented to each other while their husbands tried not to listen. Their president, Priscilla Fairman, actually pulled out one of those expensive new electronic tablets and started taking notes.
When she began snapping pictures, Marianne smiled and shook her head. The Sawyers’ Fourth of July bash would be all over the social media sites by morning.
Sipping her sweet tea, she checked on the kids in the bounce house, then counted heads on the waterslide to make sure they weren’t overloading the equipment. She’d put Kyle in charge there, and it looked like he had things under control. After a few trips around the front yard, Dopey had lost his charm for everyone but Emily. Lisa had graciously set up a little picnic for them near the awning so Emily could enjoy the pony for as long as he stayed.
Of course, that left Marianne with nothing to do. She wasn’t used to that, but she decided to enjoy it while it lasted. Tucker loped up behind her and stuck his nose under her hand for some love.
“Hey, you.” While she petted him, she straightened the new Stars and Stripes bandanna Ridge had bought for him to wear today. “Are you having fun?”
“Yeah, it’s awesome.”
Ridge’s voice answered from behind her, and she laughed as he took the open space on the bench beside her. “For a second there, I thought he’d learned how to talk.”
“He just might one of these days.” Ridge added one of his easygoing grins. “Smartest dog I ever met, that’s for sure.”
“When we came back here, Dad had this puppy waiting.” She patted his head, thinking back to that day. “It made things a little easier for Kyle.”
“How ’bout you?” When she didn’t answer right away, he frowned. “Sorry. Sometimes stupid things just pop out of my mouth.”
A few days ago, she’d have bristled at the highly personal question and refused to answer. But in the time Ridge had been with them, she’d learned he wasn’t rude, just straightforward.
“That’s okay. It’s a reasonable question.” She added a sm
ile to let him know she wasn’t angry. “After Peter left, I was so lost I didn’t know what to do. Thankfully we had a place to go. Dad wasn’t thrilled with the divorce, but he told me over and over how happy he was to have us here. When people asked, he’d say he thoroughly enjoyed my cooking and having clean clothes just show up in his drawers.”
Chuckling, Ridge swallowed some tea. “It must’ve been tough to give up your independence, though.”
“At first, but I never really liked Chicago.” Looking around, she smiled at the laughter and animated conversations going on. “Harland is a much better place for the kids. We had a fifth-floor condo in the city, and the park was up the street, so it was always a big production to take them there. Here, they can play outside and I don’t have to worry about them running down the road to a friend’s house.”
“Yeah, the country’s great for kids.”
She heard envy in his voice, and she wondered where he’d grown up. “What about you? Did your family move around a lot?”
He gave her a puzzled frown. “Why would you think that?”
“Your business takes you all over, and you said you don’t like being in one place. It would make sense if your family was that way.”
“Yeah, that would make sense.”
She waited for him to continue, but suddenly he was looking everywhere but at her. She hadn’t known him long, but she’d gotten accustomed to the way he focused on whoever he was talking to. He was so up-front with people, it seemed odd that he’d be avoiding her now. This was the first decent conversation they’d had, so she didn’t feel right digging for details.
But she couldn’t help wondering what on earth he was hiding.
* * *
Marianne came through the door with an armful of groceries, not surprised to find John in the kitchen. It was close to lunchtime, and a Sawyer boy never missed a meal. That was how they got so tall, she thought with a smile.
“Is Ridge coming in, too?” she asked as they headed out to help the kids unload her minivan.
“As soon as he wrestles a new belt onto that old baler.”
That meant nothing to her, and she laughed. “I’ll take that as yes, he’s having lunch with us.”
“Yup. By the way, Charlie Simmons called. One of his assistant coaches broke his leg yesterday.”
“Oh, no,” she groaned. “What happened?”
“Waterskiing. Tried to impress his kids by doing a flip.”
“Idiot.” They set down their bags, and the impact of the man’s injury hit her like a ton of bricks. “Can he coach football with a broken leg?”
“Not a chance. Charlie’s freaking out, hunting for somebody to take his place.”
“Minicamp’s next week, Mom.” Scowling, Kyle piled on more gloomy news. “If we don’t have enough coaches, we’ll have to cancel camp and we’ll be behind all the other teams when the season starts.”
“What would you like me to do?” she asked while she emptied bags into the refrigerator. “I don’t know the first thing about coaching football.”
Kyle turned to John with a hopeful expression. “Could you do it?”
John’s hangdog look said it all. “With all I’ve got going on here, I can’t. I could help out once in a while, but I can’t be at every practice, and that’s what you need.”
“Maybe Uncle Matt could do it.”
“Same problem.” John sat down at the table, looking even more dejected. “We planted an extra two hundred acres of hay this year, and it’s keeping us busy.”
“Everybody works, Kyle,” Marianne pointed out gently. “Camp isn’t so bad, but it’s not easy to free up ten hours a week for the whole season.”
Kyle fell silent, and she wished there was some kind of mom magic she could do to fix this. He was obviously making an attempt to take things in stride, but she knew he was upset. He just didn’t want to make John feel any worse than he already did.
“Coach Simmons said if we don’t have enough coaches when the season starts August first,” her son said quietly, “the league won’t let us play.”
She’d forgotten that rule, which elevated the problem to full crisis status. The Wildcats had never dealt with it before, so it hadn’t been an issue. Until now. While she was mentally running through a very short list of potential replacements, a voice floated in from behind her.
“What does it take to be an assistant coach?”
Turning, she found Ridge in the doorway with Tucker. As he opened the screen door, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t heard him come up the back porch. Then again, Tucker’s heavy panting had probably drowned out his footsteps. Padding toward his bowl, the dog slurped up half the water and flopped down on the cool tile floor. He rolled onto his side, his tongue hanging out like he didn’t have the strength to go one more step.
“You take a class online,” John answered. “Then you get together with the other coaches and work out your plays, get to know the kids, help run the camp. At first it’s Saturday mornings, then ten hours a week when the season starts. Once they’re in school, you cut back to six hours of practice so the kids don’t drop. And then there are the games on Sundays.”
“Sounds workable.” Ridge turned a chair around and sat down. He traded looks across the table with Kyle. “Your team any good?”
“We came in second last year. This year we’re taking the championship.”
Marianne admired his determination, but he was her son so she was slightly biased. She was pleased when Ridge grinned his approval. “What position do you play?”
“Wide receiver on offense, linebacker on defense,” Kyle said. “I had eight sacks last year.”
“Awesome. I was a quarterback. All-state three years running.”
“Both my uncles went all-state four years.” Kyle trumped him with a proud grin. “Uncle John was top wide receiver his senior year, and Uncle Matt won best linebacker in the whole conference. Twice.”
“He’s the man, all right,” Ridge agreed without hesitation. “I played some sectional games against Harland, and he killed me every time.”
“I thought you and Matt just met a few years ago,” Marianne said, wondering again about his penchant for moving around.
“Officially. During high school, I lived near here, but Matt and I only knew each other on the field.” He gave her a wry grin. “It’s hard to recognize a guy in a helmet who hits you so hard you can’t see straight.”
“That’s my big brother.” John chuckled. “They called him the Wrecker.”
“What did they call you?” Kyle asked him.
“Hands.” He held them up, palms out, as proof. “Good for basketball, too. You guys played before my time,” he said to Ridge, “but I remember watching those games. They were great.”
“Good bunch of guys on those teams,” Ridge agreed, turning to Marianne. “I’d hate to see Kyle and his buddies miss out on that. The sport’s about a lot more than football.”
She knew that. Team dynamics and working hard to reach a goal helped foster responsibility. Although she’d never played any sports herself, she was an avid armchair athlete. Whether it was baseball or soccer, she enjoyed the strategy and opportunity for everyone to contribute, whatever their size or ability. In junior football, the coaches were required to use all their players, which meant everyone benefited from being part of the team.
The coach’s injury left them short of time to find a replacement, so substituting Ridge seemed like the perfect solution. But she had one major reservation about this man who’d literally dropped from the sky and into their lives.
“Ridge, may I talk to you outside a minute?”
“Sure.”
John didn’t even bother trying to conceal a grin, and she could almost hear Kyle’s eyes clunking as they rolled around in his head. She had to give Ridge
credit, though. Whatever he might have been thinking, he didn’t say a word as he got to his feet and followed her out the back door.
* * *
Ridge trailed Marianne a good distance from the house until she stopped under the ancient oak everyone in the family seemed to gravitate to. When she turned to him, he nodded toward it. “I have to know what’s so special about this tree.”
Resting a hand on the gnarled trunk, she looked up through the branches with the kind of sad smile only women seemed to be able to manage. “This was my father’s favorite spot on the farm. He and the boys used to eat lunch here, just as all the Sawyers did before them. Dad said it made him feel connected to his roots.”
Ridge nodded. He admired the Sawyers’ solid connection to their past—and to each other.
“You wanted to talk to me,” he reminded her, opening his mind to whatever she had to say.
“I thought your mother was expecting you in Colorado.”
“I called a few days ago to let her know I’m staying a while longer,” he assured her. “Folks love riding in Betsy, so aerial tours are a big part of my business, especially when we get into the fall. I’ve got at least a dozen names from the picnic, and a little word of mouth goes a long way.”
“You’re planning to stay here, then.”
“John said I can stay as long as I want, even bought me some earplugs to help with the snoring. In return, I’ll help out around the farm, free of charge,” he added to make it clear he wouldn’t be taking advantage of the Sawyers’ hospitality.
“Are you sure you want to do that? I mean, you told me you don’t like to be in one place too long.”
“You miss things that way.”
“Such as?”
He shrugged. “Friends. Dogs. Having a place to come back to at the end of the day that doesn’t charge you when you walk in the door.”