The Preacher's Daughter

by Lyn Cote

  “And you’re a turtle in human form,” she replied without missing a beat. She stole one of his fries. “Stick your head out of that shell and see what’s going on.”

  To their far left, a young Mexican-American male got out of a beat-up station wagon and escorted his girlfriend toward the window. Several of his friends trailed behind him.

  “At least I don’t push people,” Tanner said. “Going back to Torres’s door when he’d told you plainly that he didn’t want to be bothered was a mistake.” He sank his teeth into his burger and catsup dripped down his chin. He wiped it off with a white paper napkin.

  Still tracking the scene in front of them, she worried her lower lip. “Maybe, but I had to try. Maybe my…persistence will make him reconsider. Besides—” she cocked an eyebrow at Tanner “—you got a little heated with Torres yourself.”

  He reddened. “I didn’t like the way he was talking to you—even if you had stepped over the line.” His voice roughened.

  She made eye contact with him. “Why didn’t you tune in on the fact that Ignacio let us know that he was interested in baseball?”

  “What has that got to do with anything?” he asked.

  She made a face. “Ignacio caught a ride with us because he obviously wanted to sound us out, see what he thought of us. Why else would he come up to us and ask for a lift?”

  Tanner looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Because he needed a ride into town.”

  She groaned. This man is going to drive me nuts! “He could have gotten a ride from someone else. He was checking us out,” she insisted. “And evidently what we said about baseball got to him.”

  “He just said that he played baseball when he was young. How do you parlay that into interest?”

  She released an exasperated sigh. “Tanner, you need to pick up on things. Most people, men in particular, don’t just come out and say ‘I want to help’ or even ‘I want help.’ You have to hear what they are saying behind their words.”

  Ahead, Lucie noted the Hispanic contingent converged with the locals at Zoë’s window. Riel and friends hunched up their shoulders, blocking the newcomers.

  Tanner gazed at her. Finally he nodded. “I’m still learning that.”

  Though distracted by the trouble brewing in front of her—again, Tanner’s humility won her admiration. He’s a good man. Maddening, but his heart is in the right place.

  “Good to hear. If you want really want to learn how to read people, you will. I think that Ignacio may prove to be a gift from God. He seems like a man who is interested in his community and isn’t afraid to talk to people. Did you see how well he got on with the mechanic? They acted like old friends.”

  Tanner nodded. “Yes, that says a lot. Mitch wasn’t too happy when the Texans started moving in.”

  At the order window, Riel and the Latino teen were exchanging words. Their body language made her think of wrestlers circling one another. Should she do something? But what?

  Just then a sheriff’s car swooped into the lot and parked near the Bomb. This arrival did not go unnoticed by the teens. The two swaggering groups of teens at the window immediately stepped apart and tried to look casual.

  Following the unfolding DQ drama, Lucie tried to keep up with the topic of her conversation with Tanner. “By the way, only half our job is done. I have to get on the phone tonight and tomorrow morning and invite Mikey and Danny’s friends.”

  “Won’t we have enough to handle if kids from Shangri-La show up at the ball field?”

  The deputy sheriff got out of his car and walked up to the window. The deputy gave his order and lounged against the glass wall of the DQ, eyeing the crowd of teens.

  Tanner repeated his question.

  Distracted, Lucie gave him an exasperated look. He really wasn’t picking up on any of what was going on right in front of them. But what could she do about that? Lord, Tanner Bond is too big a job for me!

  She tried to keep her voice calm. “We need to get the two groups together.” She gestured, bringing her fingers together in a gathering motion. “If only Mikey and Danny show up, it will look like the locals didn’t want to come. Another slap in the face for the Latinos.”

  “Ah.” He nodded, getting it—finally.

  “Kids are the best place to start because they have little or no prejudices. They can get the coming together off the bat.” She grinned at her baseball metaphor.

  At the DQ window, Zoë handed Riel and his group their order and another girl delivered the deputy’s extralarge spiral cone. Riel’s group headed back to their vehicle. The Hispanic kids put in their orders while the deputy lounged near the window eating his cone.

  Confrontation avoided. Lucie’s tension eased.

  “Is it time for Zoë to be done?” Tanner consulted his watch. “We need time to make those calls.”

  Lucie debated calling Tanner’s attention to what had just transpired in front of him—all of which he hadn’t noticed. But she gave up. I’ve had a long day, and trying to get this man moving has made it feel even longer.

  The deputy sheriff ambled to his vehicle. He glanced their way and then walked over. “Evening, Pastor.”

  Tanner greeted the policeman and introduced Lucie.

  The deputy motioned toward the back seat. “That the dog you hit?”

  Fella barked once. Reaching over the seat back, Lucie patted his head. “Yes.”

  The law officer eyed her. “Does Sophie know that Riel Wilkins is hanging around Nate’s sister?”

  “I don’t know,” Lucie said, uneasily returning his stare.

  “Well, I sure wouldn’t want him hanging around my sister.”

  Chapter Five

  At nearly quarter past ten the next morning, Lucie was very aware of the first hot whiff of the coming summer wind and her simmering irritation with Tanner. A mix of boys and girls in two informal clusters faced each other over home plate in the city park. And these natives were restless. Oblivious, Tanner stood before them doing his let’s-lecture-them-till-they-drop talk on sportsmanship.

  Fuming, Lucie held herself in check. Tanner, we need to get the practice started!

  She blew warm breath up toward her bangs. In the growing heat, they were quickly becoming moist corkscrew curls. She felt hot and sticky while her friendly neighborhood pastor, wearing khaki shorts and a short-sleeve white shirt, looked cool and collected. “I will expect you all,” he was saying, “to adhere to the rules of the game….”

  Lucie tried to ignore the golden down on Tanner’s arms. How did a man who spent his life reading manage to have such muscular arms? Was he a closet athlete?

  The kids shifted impatiently in front of her. At the diamond, the two groups, sons and daughters of the locals and the Mexican-Americans, were dressed in a rainbow of shorts and T-shirts. All the kids wore the same expression—wary yet bored at the same time. From under lowered eyelashes, they surreptitiously studied each other. Lucie prayed for unity, for friendships to begin today.

  One friend had already been made. Ignacio Valdez, his silver hair glistening in the sun, lounged nearby with his arms folded. He’d shown up with a truck full of kids. Their two lone spectators, Fella and Tanner’s dog Sancho, relaxed side by side in the shade of a nearby tree, ready to be entertained. Fella woofed once as though scolding the long-winded pastor. Sancho seconded it.

  Impervious, Tanner continued, “I know you will avoid name-calling…”

  Lucie shifted on her feet again while watching Tanner’s chin move as he spoke. Tanner, shut up—please! If you keep this up, they’ll all turn tail and run home.

  “…and any other displays of poor sportsmanship—”

  His deep, rich voice both irritated her and sensitized her to him—word by word, an exquisite tension. Lucie couldn’t take any more.

  “That’s great, padre!” she cut him off, adopting the common Spanish parlance for his calling. “Miguel, Danny, Mikey and everybody else, I’m Señorita Lucie, your pitcher, su lanzador. We’re goin
g to split you all up into two teams. Everybody, line up by me.”

  Tanner looked shocked and then disgruntled. He propped his hands on his lean hips, his square shoulders rippling with annoyance.

  The pose caught her up short. My, you’re handsome when you’re angry, Tanner. If they’d been alone, she’d have teased him with this, knowing it would get his goat. But not now. There was no time.

  There was a rush of small bodies toward her. Predictably, Miguel maneuvered his way to first in line. She grinned at him. “Okay, Miguel, let’s count off. You’re a number one. Next kid, you’re a number two.” She pointed at the third kid. “You’re a number one. Go on. One-two, one-two.” The counting off zipped down the ragged line, splitting apart and mixing together the two bands of would-be players.

  “Ones!” She motioned to Miguel’s team. “You’re in the field!” She glanced to Tanner who looked prepared to object. “Mr. Bond is your coach.” Holding up a hand with two raised fingers, she turned to Ignacio with a lift of her eyebrows in challenge. “Twos! Señor Valdez is your coach! You’re at bat. Play ball!”

  Ignacio grinned at her as though reading her mind and enjoying it. He motioned the children to come to him.

  She trotted toward the pitcher’s mound, not giving Bond a chance to lodge a protest. But she felt his intense and very disapproving gaze following her all the way.

  After a moment of hesitation, the two teams galloped, swarming around their respective coaches. Lucie heard Miguel demand of Tanner, “Hey! I’m on first base, okay, Coach?” This made her glance over her shoulder.

  Tanner looked stunned…and steaming. He sent her a look, as fierce as a blazing fireball. And, unexpectedly, it ignited a flickering heat in her blood. Her pulse zoomed. She stared at Tanner, trying to figure out this unexpected reaction. To regain control, she broke eye contact and located Ignacio standing by home plate.

  The older man was already squatting to communicate at eye level with his team. He was talking to the kids, getting their names and shaking their hands, one by one.

  On the mound, Lucie took her time warming up to pitch. While the two coaches and teams sorted themselves out, she found she couldn’t keep her gaze from straying to Tanner again. Had she pushed him too far?

  From the corner of her eye, she watched him. The kids clamoring around him finally brought Tanner out of his irritated trance. He started talking to his team. He was learning to roll with the punches. And she liked the way he didn’t hold on to anger.

  Ignacio lined up his team on the bench near home plate. He directed Danny to take the bat and he placed himself behind the boy, showing him where to grip the bat and how to swing, giving instruction on batting form to his whole team.

  In the field, Tanner was obviously listening to Miguel and nodding. Then he squatted down as Ignacio had, talking to each player. Great, Tanner! The pastor was starting to come out of his shell.

  Her heart warmed toward him. He’d obviously meant well with his opening lecture. He just needed experience with how to handle little kids.

  Lucie gave the coaches a few minutes and then called out, “I’m ready to pitch. Can we play ball?”

  Ignacio shouted, “¡Sí!”

  Tanner waved. “Just a moment! We still need a catcher!”

  A little blond girl with chubby legs tugged at the pant leg of his shorts. “I’m Sarah Louise Kremer,” she announced. “I’m a catcher! I catch good!” With that, Tanner’s team churned onto the field, leaving him at the sidelines.

  “Play ball!” Lucie yelled and threw out the first pitch. Joy filled her at all the happy faces. But it was Tanner’s animated expression that captured her heart.

  It was nearly noon. The ice-breaker game had taken the first hour and now, under Ignacio’s direction, the two teams were practicing catching and throwing. The teams faced each other and tossed balls back and forth, moving farther and farther apart. Even though they only had four balls, these provided enough action to keep the youngsters busy. Especially since none of them could catch a ball.

  Looking like bobbers on a tangled fishing line, the kids stooped to pick up dropped or missed balls and then bobbed up to toss the ball again. Thanks to Ignacio’s steady stream of encouraging words in English and Spanish, the kids remained eager. Soon they imitated the older man, calling to each other, “You can do it, amigo!” “That’s okay!” “Good throw!” “¡Bueno, amiga!”

  The glowing smiles on the kids’ faces lit up the park. There had been no name-calling, no bad sportsmanship—just kids fumbling around with balls and bats and doing a lot of shouting and jumping. She chuckled. It reminded her of her summers spent volunteering with Head Start in Milwaukee. The next time she visited Shangri-La, she hoped she’d see a glimmer of this new attitude. That’s what we’re here for, Lord. Bless this day with fruit.

  As an unexpected dividend, a few retired farmers in feed caps and a few of Ignacio’s contemporaries had strolled over the square after their morning coffee at the café. Though keeping to two distinct factions, they lounged in the stands, watching. Some of the kids had waved and shouted, “Hi, Grandpa!” “Hey, Abuelito!” Lucie’s heart swelled with satisfaction. The impromptu plan was already bringing the community within talking distance.

  Suddenly she became aware that Tanner was staring at her. Unable to resist reciprocating, she turned to him and felt herself blush—sizzling from toe to head.

  “Okay!” she shouted to hide this disconcerting reaction. “It’s nearly lunchtime! Coaches, why don’t we do a practice inning until the noon bells chime?”

  The kids yelled their approval and Ignacio jogged his team into the field.

  Tanner grimaced. Looking as though reminded that he had a lecture ready for her, he hurried his team to the batter’s bench.

  You’ll get your chance, Tanner. Taking a deep breath, Lucie wound up and tossed a ball to Miguel who, of course, had managed to be first at bat. Miguel’s swing caught the ball with an odd “crack.” The ball flew sideways.

  And struck little Sarah Louise Kremer, sitting on the end of the bench. The little girl screamed and clamped her hands above one eye.

  Tanner burst into the emergency room of the small rural hospital ten miles northwest of Pleasant Prairie. His heart beating a steady tattoo, he carried Sarah Louise, a small chubby armful. Lucie hurried by his side with Mikey and Danny in tow. He approached the counter. “We—” he swallowed to moisten his dry mouth “—have a little girl—”

  “Is that the Kremer girl?” the receptionist asked.

  “Yes.” He dragged the back of his hand over the sweat on his forehead. “We called her mother at work—”

  “She’s on her way.” A nurse stepped forward pushing a wheelchair. “We have verbal permission to examine Sarah.”

  Tanner tried to settle the little girl into the wheelchair.

  “No!” Sarah objected, clinging to him.

  He held on to her, feeling her small frame trembling. Oh, Lord, please don’t let her have a concussion. “I’ll carry her,” he said, giving Sarah a gentle hug.

  Lucie touched his arm and gave him an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry, Sarah,” she crooned, “Coach Bond won’t leave you.” She turned and murmured to him, “I’ll take my nephews to their father’s room upstairs and be right back.”

  In this situation so unusual for him, Lucie’s presence had bolstered his confidence. He didn’t want her to leave. But he understood that the boys shouldn’t have to witness Sarah’s examination. He nodded and Lucie walked away, shepherding the boys in front of her. It was as though she were taking the sunshine away with her.

  He steadied himself, bringing his mind back to Sarah. So far, he seemed to have done what he should. They’d gotten ice from the church fridge and fashioned a rudimentary ice pack with a dish towel before heading for the hospital.

  Now, at the nurse’s direction, he carried Sarah to the examining table and set her down with care. The little girl held on to his arm with a tenacity that surprised h
im.

  Her trust in him brought soothing words up from his memory, comforting words his mother had whispered to him when he’d sat in an emergency room years ago. He’d fallen from his bike speeding down a hill. He’d forgotten that episode till now. It had been a long time since he’d heard any soft, honest words from his mother. The old helpless regret filled him.

  The nurse hadn’t even finished taking Sarah’s vitals when a middle-aged doctor walked in. “Hi, Sarah. What happened this time?”

  The doctor’s calm voice soothed Tanner’s spiked nerves.

  “I got hit by a baseball,” Sarah said, “in my eye.” Her lower lip quivered as she twisted the fabric of Tanner’s shirt sleeve.

  The doctor lifted Sarah’s chin and studied her face. “Well, I’d say that sounds about right.”

  Tanner squeezed the girl’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine,” he murmured.

  A woman rushed into the room. “Sarah!”

  Tanner watched the reunion of mother and daughter and braced himself for recriminations. After all, the children at the ball diamond had been his responsibility. Lord, we got off to such a great start this morning. Does it end here?

  The woman turned to him. “Pastor?” She held out her hand. “Thanks for bringing Sarah straight here. I wouldn’t have wanted her to have to wait at the park until my neighbor or I got there. Thanks.”

  Tanner shook the woman’s small, but firm hand. “You’re not upset?” he croaked, unable to stop himself from voicing this.

  She chuckled. “Kids will be kids. It could have happened right in front of me. Sarah’s my fourth. I’m a hardened veteran.” She grinned.

  “Thank you.” Relief rushed through him.

  “Thank you! I really appreciate that you and Sophie’s cousin started the softball practice in the mornings. Our kids need something beside the pool in Dailey for fun. And it doesn’t open till the afternoon.”

  “We’re glad to do it.” Tanner only hoped the other parents held the same view. Or would there be fewer kids at the diamond tomorrow morning? What’s my next step, Lord?