by Mia Ross
“You like Harland, then?”
“Very much.” There was plenty to like about the close-knit community on and around the farm. Because Ridge didn’t know how to say that without spooking her, he settled on something less personal. “Little things mean a lot when you don’t have them.”
She eyed him with something resembling respect, which he took as a good sign. Marianne was by far the most mistrustful woman he’d ever met. He still wasn’t sure why he was trying so hard to get through to her, and he had to wonder if his genetic stubbornness was steering him down a rocky, dead-end road.
“Kyle and his friends live for football,” she finally said, determination sharpening her usually gentle drawl. “They play other sports, but once football camp starts, everything revolves around that. They practice rain or shine, tired or not. The coaches start out easy, then gradually get tougher. August first they start real practices, and with the heat they can get brutal.”
Ridge grinned. “I remember. Something tells me you didn’t play football, though. How do you know all this?”
“I’m the team mom, so I’m always there.”
“Don’t you have enough to do already?” he asked with a frown.
“Yes, but someone needs to be in charge of the sidelines. The kids love the game, and so do the coaches. They sacrifice most of their free time to volunteer, and they do a great job. Getting a bunch of young kids to focus long enough to teach them teamwork and plays takes someone with the discipline of a drill sergeant and the patience of a saint.”
She was starting to sound condescending, and his back went up. “I get that. What’s your point?”
“You don’t have children.”
“So?”
“Coaching them is like herding cats. And there are two girls on the team,” she added.
“Cool,” he said without reservation, because he meant it. “I bet they hit hard and run fast.”
Marianne just blinked at him, and he met her disbelieving look with an even one of his own. As soon as Kyle mentioned it, Ridge knew this coaching opportunity was one of those little things he’d talked about missing. Being connected to a community, at least for a little while, would be good for him. Besides, it sounded like fun.
Marianne looked so upset, he wanted to take her hands and reassure her. He managed to resist the urge, but it was tough.
“I understand why you’re worried,” he said, “but I can handle it. If I have trouble, I’ll ask the other coaches or John for advice. I really want to help out.”
Staring up at him, she shook her head. “Why?”
Searching his mind, he stumbled on words that more or less summed up his reasoning. “Because it will matter to the kids and their families. I probably met some of them at the wedding and the picnic, and they seem like good people. I wanna make sure they get a football season.”
“It’s a ton of work you won’t get paid for. What’s in it for you?”
A place to belong, he wanted to say. He’d been searching for one all his life, and Harland felt like it might be the one. Instinct told him that it was too intense an emotion to share with this woman he barely knew. “I like new challenges.”
She assessed him with a long, thoughtful look, and he could hear the mom wheels spinning in her head. Understanding her reluctance, he endured her scrutiny with what he hoped came across as confidence. She was concerned about his disappointing her son and his friends, and Ridge couldn’t blame her.
Being new in town, he was aware that folks wouldn’t take to him right away, much less trust him with their children. If Marianne went out on a limb and vouched for him, they’d accept him without question. This was a big risk for her to take, but he hoped she’d let him prove he was worth it.
Finally, she held out her hand and they shook. “I’ll talk to the head coach. I just hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
He chuckled. “Not a clue, but I learn fast. I’ll figure it out.”
The look she gave him said she had her doubts, but he gave her credit for not saying so out loud.
* * *
Sunday morning, Marianne was waiting for John and the kids when she heard footsteps on the back porch. Ridge staggered through the back door with Tucker on his heels, and she didn’t bother to hide her surprise.
The dog flopped down on the floor beside her, and she turned a page in the newspaper. “You’re up early for a Sunday.”
“Church,” he said in a gruff morning voice as he groped along the counter to reach the coffeemaker.
After the brush-off she’d gotten the first Sunday he was with them, his comment astonished her. “I must still be dreaming. It sounded like you said you were coming to church with us.”
“I am. First, I need coffee.”
“Help yourself.”
She laughed, and for some reason he gave her a slow grin.
“What?” she asked.
“You have a great laugh. You should laugh more.”
While the compliment settled into a cozy place, she asked, “You’re really going to church?”
Blowing on his coffee, he nodded. “When I was at the team meeting yesterday, Coach made it clear he expects to see me there. Guy as big as that, you don’t argue when he tells you to do something.”
“That’s not a good reason to go,” she argued, offended that he’d even consider attending services for such a transparent reason.
“I was kidding, Marianne. He suggested I go as a way to get to know the families, but he didn’t make it an order or anything.” Flashing a mischievous grin, he added, “Who knows? It might even be good for me.”
“I don’t doubt that for a second,” she said primly.
Before she could begin a proper lecture, the kids pounded down the steps, freshly scrubbed and dressed. When he heard them, John clicked the TV off and sauntered in from the living room.
“Rotten Braves,” he muttered. “They’re killing me this season.”
“Again,” Ridge taunted him. “My Rockies, on the other hand, are in first place.”
To Marianne’s complete amazement, he rinsed out his cup and put it in the dishwasher. All by himself, without her asking. Glancing up, she wondered if an angel had landed on his shoulder sometime during the night and was whispering in his ear. Whatever the reason, she decided she liked the change.
When they got outside, Ridge opened the back door for the kids, and then the driver’s door for her. Marianne was so stunned by the gesture, she didn’t move.
“Everything okay?” he asked, looking confused.
“Don’t you want to drive?”
“Your car, you drive,” he said as if it hadn’t even occurred to him to think otherwise.
Peter always drove, she recalled bitterly. Even her car, even when he didn’t know where they were going and she did. Then again, during their marriage Peter was in charge of more than the driving. Assertive to the core, he naturally took over. She’d convinced herself he couldn’t help it, any more than a shy man could help being quiet. Ridge was just as assertive, she realized, but he didn’t assume he’d be in charge of every situation. She couldn’t help noticing—and appreciating—the difference.
During the short ride to church, Kyle and Emily repeated the verses they’d memorized for Bible study. They were short and simple, but strung together they made a pleasant beginning to the day.
Do not be afraid, for I am with you.
Love your neighbor as yourself.
Let all that you do be done in love.
“That’s one of my favorites,” Marianne told them as she turned into the parking lot. “It always makes me think of my mother.”
“Gramma’s in heaven with Granddad,” Emily informed them in a very grown-up voice. “Aunt Lisa says they watch us from up there and smile.”
“I’m sure they do.” Ridge looked back at them. “They’re real proud of you two.”
“And Mommy, too,” Emily prompted.
Turning to her with an admiring smile, he nodded. “And Mommy, too. Especially Mommy.”
He didn’t touch her, but his words flowed over Marianne like a caress. This was a side of him she hadn’t expected to find beneath all those rough edges. Kind and caring, he had a way of reaching people and making them feel important. He’d accomplished that amazing feat with her kids the first day they met him. It was easy to see they were getting very attached to this man who was always willing to drop what he was doing and make time for them.
Whether it was running plays with Kyle or memorizing the names of Emily’s extended family of dolls, Ridge showed an interest in everything they did. They treasured his attention in a way that made Marianne realize that she’d been fooling herself thinking she could fill the roles of both mother and father for them.
Pleasant as things were now, she worried about how devastated they’d be when he got bored with quiet little Harland and flew off to his next adventure. She wished she could protect her kids from the pain that losing him would cause them, but it was too late for that. When the time came for him to go, they’d have to cope with their disappointment as best they could.
That included her, Marianne realized with sudden clarity. The revelation didn’t settle well, but she had to be honest with herself. She’d miss him when he was gone.
* * *
Ridge couldn’t remember the last time he’d set foot in a church.
It wasn’t that he was against religion. Raised with a healthy respect for the Almighty, Ridge worshipped not in a church, but out in the open. He felt closest to God when he was flying, soaring above the clouds where the sun was the brightest.
When he was young, his mother would point out how rays of sunlight sometimes plunged through the clouds to meet the ground. She used to tell him that was God opening a door and extending a stairway so souls could find their way into heaven. The poetic notion had always appealed to Ridge much more than being stuck inside singing and listening to sermons.
But this morning he found himself in a quaint Carolina chapel, watching Pastor Charles work his way through the congregation on his way to what looked like a hand-carved oak pulpit. Ridge had met the friendly man at Matt and Caty’s wedding, which made him slightly less uncomfortable. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that every person there knew he’d rather be out flying.
“Don’t worry,” Matt whispered from beside him. “It gets easier.”
“Thanks.”
His buddy had recently reformed, so Ridge hoped Matt knew what he was talking about. When the opening chords of the first hymn echoed from the organ in back, the song sounded vaguely familiar. Emily tapped his arm and offered him a hymnal.
“It’s been a while,” he confided, smiling down at her. “Will you help me out?”
Nodding, she climbed onto the pew and into his arms. She settled in and pointed out the page they were on.
While he held this precious little girl and tried to match her clear, sweet pitch, Ridge felt something completely unexpected. Like a wave, it began gently, slowly moving over him until he felt like he’d been wrapped in warm air. That feeling nestled into the deepest corner of his heart, one he’d been neglecting for a long, long time.
Unnerved, he glanced at Emily, but she didn’t seem to notice it. She just looked back at him with those innocent blue eyes and smiled. When the song was finished, he figured she’d want to rejoin her brother, so he started to put her down. She wrapped her arms around him and held on tight, and he couldn’t resist returning the affectionate gesture.
Glancing up at the beautiful stained-glass window hanging over the simple altar, Ridge noticed that it was a scene of Jesus surrounded by animals and children. It suited the little white church—and Harland—perfectly. While he stared at it, the baffling sensation he’d been feeling settled in even more deeply. It made him wonder if Emily wasn’t the only one glad to have him in church this morning.
When the last chord died away, Pastor Charles opened his arms and trailed a fatherly look through the crowd, connecting with them in a way that made each person feel that he was thrilled to see them. When he saw Ridge, his eyes lit up in surprise, then crinkled in a smile that could have melted a glacier.
“Welcome, one and all, on this beautiful morning. Since I hear there’s rain on the way, I’ll try to keep things short so our farming neighbors can get back to their harvesting.” A murmur of appreciation went through the rows, and he continued. “So let’s get right to one of my favorite subjects. Family.”
Everyone laughed except Ridge, and Matt leaned in to explain. “He and his wife had six kids of their own and adopted four more. Their youngest goes to school with Kyle.”
Ridge was impressed. The pastor looked to be in his early sixties, and it would take an incredibly generous couple to adopt such a young child at that age. While Ridge digested that, he noticed someone move off to his left. Charlie Simmons gave him a discreet wave, nodding his approval.
“You’re the golden boy,” Matt said with a chuckle. “Whole town’s talking about it.”
“How would you know?” Ridge murmured. “You work all the time.”
“Caty told me.”
Ridge glanced down the row and was rewarded with one of Mrs. Sawyer’s bright smiles. As he returned the gesture, it hit him.
He belonged here.
Thinking back, he couldn’t recall a time when he’d been anywhere long enough to feel totally comfortable. When he was a kid, Ridge’s family had moved around almost continuously. Between his father’s inability to keep a job and angry landlords demanding back rent, he and his parents never lived anywhere more than a year. Mom always kept her special treasures packed away, knowing they’d be moving on before long. To this day, she hated packing.
Their nomadic lifestyle had made it tough for Ridge to settle in at school, and he became adept at gliding along, earning decent grades without calling too much attention to himself. In high school he’d been the new kid from Colorado with the funny name, and it marked him as an outsider. Quarterbacking a winning football team had helped a little, but not enough. Those kids had all grown up together, and there wasn’t room in their tight circle for him. By the time he graduated, moving around had more or less become a habit. He’d made it work for him by becoming a pilot and seeing as much of the world as he could take in.
Not once in his entire life had he belonged somewhere. Discovering that the folks in Harland had embraced him as one of their own should have made him feel good.
In reality, it was more confusing than anything. His own mother insisted he had a Gypsy’s heart, since he was happiest when he was on the move. But standing there with Emily in his arms, Ridge wondered if maybe it was time to come in for a landing.
Chapter Five
July 10 dawned clear and warm, promising to become hot and humid by the time camp ended at noon. Both kids were wired, Kyle anxious for football to start—finally—and Emily just as excited by her new role with the rookie cheer squad. Too young to participate, she’d charmed her way into the heart of the twenty-year-old coach last year. This season, Emily had the very official title of cheerleading assistant. They had no idea what that meant, but Marianne knew that being acknowledged as part of the team was what mattered to Emily.
Marianne couldn’t imagine where Ridge had gotten to, but Betsy was gone so she figured he must be working. They were supposed to leave at eight-thirty, though. Where was he? By quarter after, she was muttering to herself while she finished packing up. The first day was always chaotic, and she found it went better if she took charge of the snacks.
“Made a promise.” Frustrated, she jammed a few more water bottles into the ice-filled co
oler and slammed the cover shut. “Kids are depending on him, and where is he?”
“Right here,” Ridge answered from the doorway, making her jump.
“Don’t do that,” she scolded. “Make some noise or something. I can hear John coming from half a mile away.”
“Didn’t you hear Betsy?” The way he said it, he could have been talking about a gabby old aunt.
“I was too busy to notice. I’ve gotten so used to you taking off and landing, I don’t hear her anymore.”
A grin slowly spread across his face. By the time he was done, it was absolutely devastating. Even though she knew perfectly well she was tempting fate, she couldn’t make herself look away.
“That’s good, right?” he asked.
It was a simple enough question, but she didn’t know how to respond. When Ridge first showed up in his flying museum, she thought he’d be leaving in a few days. The idea of becoming accustomed to his presence—and his plane’s—hadn’t occurred to her. Now that it had happened, she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.
“Is that a yes?” He cocked his head, reminding her of Tucker hinting for a treat.
“I—I guess,” she stammered. “It’s fine.”
“I’ll take fine.”
The mischief glinting in his eyes told her he enjoyed throwing her off balance, which she didn’t appreciate. Much. Fortunately, he redeemed himself by picking up the heavy cooler and taking it out to the van for her. The man would test the resolve of a saint, she thought with a sigh. Too bad she was only human.
She’d just opened her mouth to call the kids when she heard them coming down the stairs. The players wouldn’t be in pads and helmets today, but Kyle had on last year’s game jersey. Emily was wearing a pleated lavender skirt and T-shirt she’d picked out because they were like the cheerleaders’ uniforms. With a purple bow tied around her high ponytail, she looked ready for action.
“Look at you two,” she approved, taking her camera out of the drawer.
“Aw, Mom,” Kyle protested.
“Just one, I promise.”