A League of Her Own

by Karen Rock

  She pulled a tissue from her purse and held it to her grazed elbow, avoiding her mother’s pleading look. If she went with Garrett, he’d be behind the wheel. But if she left on her own, her mother would follow.

  Garrett’s handsome face hovered above her, concern sharpening his features, his mouth in a grim line. And just like that, she knew. Garrett. Her father had trusted him. Maybe she could too.

  “Okay. You drive.”

  Garrett rested his chin above her head, his heart beating fast against her. “Okay,” he breathed, his tone sounding relieved. With care, he gently guided her to her feet.

  “Heather, please. Let me drive you home.” Her mother extended her hand, a charm bracelet catching the afternoon light. “Then we can talk this out in private.”

  Heather stepped out of reach, her skin crawling. “Don’t ever.” Her mouth froze until she dragged the words from their hiding places. “Come to my house. Got it?”

  Her mother paled and stepped back. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”

  “Thinking of others was never one of your strong suits,” Heather said wearily and turned to Garrett. “Can we go now? Please.”

  “You got it.” Garrett steered her to the passenger side of his car and opened the door. “Goodbye, ma’am,” he said before sliding behind the wheel, his window open.

  “Please call me Renee,” Heather’s mother urged as Garrett hit the gas and the car zoomed forward.

  “Are you okay?” A redheaded boy poked his head between the front seats, his elfin features making him resemble Peter Pan. Neverland—a place without mothers, Heather recalled. If only she could fly there.

  “I’m fine, Levi, thanks.” She leaned against the leather headrest and pulled the tissue away from her arm. No bleeding. “Why didn’t you go home earlier when camp ended?”

  “Mr. Wolf got permission to treat me to ice cream. I struck out ten batters.” His babble temporarily soothed the fire raging inside Heather.

  She contemplated Garrett’s neutral profile as he drove, wondering at this development. She’d been proud of his help with the kids. But rewarding one in particular for good work, giving personal attention, was taking things to another level. If she wasn’t so irate over her father’s will, she’d be excited. But right now, only two emotions consumed her.

  Fury and betrayal.

  She didn’t have room to feel afraid of Garrett behind the wheel, his speed so slow that cars honked as they passed him. Her breath eased as his car stayed in its lane. No swerving. Nothing to frighten her. In fact, the extracareful way he drove made her wonder if he was trying to reassure her. If so, it worked.

  To an extent.

  Her pulse still thrummed and her fingernails dug into the door handle, her body rigid. Whenever Levi paused for breath, she nodded along politely while her mind worked in overdrive.

  “Someday I’m going to be a professional ball player. Like Mr. Wolf,” the boy gushed. “Not gonna be in foster care forever.”

  Heather followed his finger pointing and spotted the group home before Garrett swung into its parking lot.

  “Will you be okay alone?” he asked her, his voice low and urgent. “I need to check Levi in.”

  Heather nodded but avoided his eyes. If he studied hers, he’d know she wasn’t okay. Not by a long shot.

  “Bye, Ms. Gadway!” Levi yelled before hopping out of the car. Heather waited for the door to slam, but instead she felt a thin hand touch her shoulder. She looked up, startled.

  The boy’s flushed, narrow face and wide eyes pushed close. “I’m—uh—sorry about your dad. I never had one, but if I did, I would have wanted him to be just like yours.”

  “Thanks, Levi.”

  Heather squeezed her eyes shut when the door clicked closed. Yes. Her dad had been great in many ways. But he’d never had faith in her, thought her capable. His decision to leave majority ownership of the team to his estranged wife was clear proof. In his eyes, Heather wasn’t good enough. Although he’d let her work with the Falcons this season, he couldn’t have believed she’d succeed. Her bid to make him proud had been a fruitless mission.

  Always had been.

  And why hadn’t he confessed that he’d never gone through with the divorce? It made no sense. She thunked her head against the glass. None of this did.

  The beeping of a truck brought the ambulance’s siren to mind. After a week, she still woke with it in her ears, the realization that her father was gone a stone in her chest. She’d appointed Smythe as temporary manager while she grieved, though how long that would be, she wasn’t sure. Whenever she thought of returning, it felt like the fire that’d driven her had blown out. Now that her mother owned a majority share in the team, coming back seemed impossible.

  Garrett’s pine-scented aftershave filled the cab when he swung into his seat moments later. He angled his body her way and took her hand.

  “What happened, Heather?”

  Her heart expanded at the sound of her name on his lips. Today she wasn’t Skipper. Not to him. And she wanted it that way. “Can we go somewhere?” She glanced out at the street, wondering if her mother’s car lurked.

  Garrett rubbed his thumb gently over her knuckles, sending a shimmer of sensation through her. “Anywhere. I have an AA meeting, but I can go to one tomorrow instead. And I don’t have to be at the stadium for a couple of hours.”

  She nodded, remembering. “You guys have a game tonight. I should know that.”

  “You’ve had enough to handle without thinking about us,” Garrett grumbled, sending her an oblique look. Had he thought about her? She’d received his flowers along with many other bouquets but hadn’t brought herself to open any of the accompanying cards.

  He let go, started the engine and maneuvered the shift smoothly as he backed out of the spot. His hand settled on the blinker while they waited for traffic to clear. “Left or right?”

  “Huh?” Her eyes traced the straight line of his nose, the cut angle of his jaw. She’d thought only of getting away. It hadn’t mattered where.

  “Where would you like to go?”

  A special place came to mind. One that she’d love to see again. With Garrett.

  “Ever been to Looking Glass Falls?”

  His mouth curved upward. “Haven’t seen much beyond a baseball field and a tour bus. Let’s go.”

  After ten minutes of heeding her directions, followed by a twenty-minute off-road hike, they burst through a clump of pines onto a rocky outcrop.

  Garrett’s astonished expression was everything she’d hoped for. Water raced by, pouring over a wide stone lip to a clear pool below. Foam churned on the basin’s surface, sprays of water cooling them off. Her restless spirit eased at the natural surroundings and the steadfast man beside her.

  “I discovered it when I was in Girl Scouts,” she said over the rushing stream that gurgled and splashed when it hit the rocks sixty feet below. “The old dugout used to be my thinking spot. But this was the only place my mother couldn’t find me when I ran away.”

  Garrett’s fingers laced with hers, and a bit of happiness nudged some of her grief away. He helped her down to the ledge, and they each took off their shoes to dangle their bare feet in the misty air.

  “How often was that?” he probed after a silent moment.

  She squinted at a large woodpecker across the narrow chasm, its rat-tat-tat-tat blending with the wind rustling through the trees. She inhaled fresh air and began. If she was going to confide in him, no sense in starting in the middle.

  “As long as I can remember, my mother was always up and down. Sometimes she’d be great and would play with me for hours. Other times she’d stay in bed all day and yell for hot tea.”

  Garrett’s eyes, as blue as the sky peeping through the canopy of leaves, searched hers. “How old were you?”

  A lump formed in her throat. “Five is the earliest I remember.”

  His brows came together. “You were making hot tea at that age? Where was your fathe
r?”

  “Working on team business. Mom did a better job of hiding her issues when he was around.”

  Garrett’s hand found hers again. He turned her palm over, his finger tracing the lines that ran across it.

  “You must have been lonely.” His eyes darkened as he studied her. “We have that in common.”

  “I didn’t know what was wrong with her then. Even though I brought her medicine, she got worse. When she went away to the hospital, I stayed up nights, crying and begging that she’d get better. Come home. I didn’t understand where she really went until much later.”

  Garrett’s hand tightened on hers. “Rehab.”

  She studied her swinging feet in the vapor-filled air.

  “Yes. Except that it never worked. Not for long. At first I’d think she was better. We’d bake and sew doll clothes. Dad didn’t have much time for a little girl hanging around his baseball team, so for me, my world was her.”

  Her words came in fits and starts, sounding like an old radio tuned to a remote channel. Garrett brushed her hair from her face, and the gentleness of his touch made her want to weep.

  “How many times did she go to rehab?”

  “Not as many as she needed to. Three, I think.” Heather leaned her cheek against his hand. “I tried keeping her clean. Being her best girl and doing everything so she wouldn’t have any pain. By eight I could do the housework and cook, but I couldn’t...”

  A lump formed in her throat and blocked the rest of her sentence.

  Garrett lifted her chin and stared deep into her eyes. “You couldn’t keep her sober.”

  She shook her head, beyond words. The parent she’d loved most was gone, and the one who’d hurt her most had returned. Where was the justice in that?

  “I got my hopes up so many times. Thought I had the power to control it. Her. But she hid the pills where I couldn’t find them, learned to hide some of her symptoms too.” Heather pulled a leaf off a scrub bush and ripped it into small pieces. Al-Anon had taught her not to blame herself for her mother’s actions. Still. It was tough not to feel that she could have done more. Helped.

  “When I got in the car on the day of the accident, she was only a week out of rehab. I was so happy she was home. Should have been paying closer attention. But I wanted her to be better so badly. I missed the signs.”

  The crushing disappointment fell through her, taking what was left of her heart with it. All her life she’d wanted her mother to love her more than drugs. Her father to be proud of her. She’d failed on both counts.

  Garrett slid closer and gathered her in his arms. After everything, the small voice of protest at his touch was easily silenced. Yes, he was her subordinate. Yes, he was a recovering addict. But he was the only one who got past her defenses. Helped her open up. And she needed someone to talk to. Was it selfish, just for this moment, to give in to her feelings? She’d reassemble the wall between them later. She rested her head against his chest.

  “Until the funeral you hadn’t seen her since the car accident?” His voice vibrated against her ear when he spoke.

  “No. She left before I woke up in the hospital. It was my thirteenth birthday. Guess that was her present to me.” She tried to make a joke of it, but her attempt at a laugh sounded more like a sob. Instantly, Garrett slid a hand beneath her knees and pulled her calves across his legs, snuggling her.

  “In her state, it was the best thing she could have done.”

  Stung, Heather pulled back. “Leave her daughter for pills? That was the best thing?” she snapped.

  His thumb brushed down the side of her cheek, his expression insistent. “Better than putting you in harm’s way again. I wouldn’t have stood for that. Not if I was your dad. Not if I loved you.”

  The intent look in his eye, the low rumble of his voice as he said the word loved, made the butterflies swarming in her stomach take flight.

  Oh.

  “I would have stayed for my child,” Heather answered, her anger at him dissipating. “I wouldn’t have waited until years later to start calling. Where was she when I was in high school? A teenager? I needed her.”

  “She should have been there.” Something inside her melted at his earnest expression. “But from where I’m standing, you turned out perfect.”

  Her breath caught at his sincere tone. “My father didn’t think so.”

  Garrett’s eyebrows lifted. “He made you his manager. He thought highly of you.”

  Heather’s lips twisted. “He planned to sell the team. I had only until the end of the season to turn things around and make a profit. Now that’s not going to happen.”

  He angled his head, puzzled. “You straightened out my arm. No one else has done that before. As for the other guys, they’re coming around. Besides, now that you own the team, you can decide what to do with it.”

  She dropped her head. “I don’t.”

  Garrett ducked down to meet her eye, but she turned away, close to breaking down. It’d been a heck of a day.

  “Don’t what?”

  “He left fifty-one percent of the team to my mother.” Her anguished confession startled a warbler from its perch. She watched it disappear across the falls, wishing she could vanish, too.

  “Why would he do that? You’re his daughter.” Garrett’s voice hardened, his indignation bolstering her.

  “Because he never thought I was good enough. Do you know what he said when I won the National Collegiate Player of the Year award?”

  “I’m thinking it wasn’t congratulations.”

  “He said, ‘You’ll never get that twice in a row.’” Her stomach lurched, resentment and longing for him mixing inside.

  “But he was wrong. You won two,” Garrett responded, surprising her. He’d remembered her father’s long-ago speech. Hadn’t forgotten that about her.

  A ray of pleasure pierced her dark mood. “Right. I know Dad loved me. So why would he leave Mom majority ownership? It makes no sense.”

  Garrett settled her head on his shoulder and rested his cheek on top. “Maybe she won’t be as bad as you think.”

  “Yeah, sure. She was dangerous before. Now she can make every bad decision she wants, drive this team into the ground and walk away for her next fix.”

  “You don’t think there’s a chance she’s cleaned up for good?”

  “Ha! I know her too well.”

  “People can change. It’s not impossible.”

  Heather flushed, remembering how she’d warned him that she could never trust him or any addict. Had pushed him away when he’d kissed her. So why, then, was she telling him things she hadn’t even shared with her father?

  “How many times did you go to rehab?” she asked.

  “Once.”

  “How long were you an alcoholic before that?”

  “Five years. I was twenty-one when Manny got shot.”

  Heather stiffened in his arms, realization spiking through her. He’d turned to alcohol because of Manny.

  “You drank so you wouldn’t think about it.”

  “Basically.” She felt his head nod against hers. “And, after a while, because I had to.”

  “And now you’re never tempted.” She tried keeping the skepticism out of her voice and failed.

  “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. But I’m committed.” He lifted his head, tipped up her chin and looked her directly in the eye. “I can only promise one day at a time. But I’ll keep that vow. Continue renewing it. I want more out of life than a bottle.”

  Heather reached up and touched the sides of his face, unable to stop her impulsive action. It was sending him mixed messages, the same ones she felt.

  “What else do you want?” The question came from a part of her she didn’t recognize. Asking a man like Garrett a flirtatious question was playing with fire.

  Garrett groaned, longing sharpening his features. “You.”

  Without waiting for her response, his lips captured hers. She knew she should push him away, but instead her
head fell back, her pulse leaping in her throat. The pressure was exquisite as he nibbled and explored. Soft. Warm. Gentle. His lips moved slowly, gradually exerting more pressure.

  This felt incredible. Better than the last time. She had to stop this, but need seized her, shoving aside her good intentions.

  Her body hummed and a fuzzy sensation filled her head, making it hard to focus on anything but the feel of him, the evergreen scent of the forest and his aftershave heightening her senses.

  His hands gripped her waist as she swayed against him, holding her as his mouth sampled her lower lip, then put pressure on the top. Nerves sent small shock waves through her chest, and her hand rose to stroke the back of his neck, making him tremble against her.

  Suddenly his kiss intensified, growing fierce and demanding. His lips moved fast against hers, their tongues tangling, causing warmth to explode in her body, melting every piece of her.

  She moaned and Garrett’s arms tightened, bringing her closer still. Her lips maneuvered against his in response, loving his sweet taste. Garrett shuddered, curling his fist into her hair with a groan. She loved how her touch affected him, how it affected her.

  At last his lips let her go, and he looked down at her tenderly, pleasure in his eyes, his chest rising and falling hard.

  “I wasn’t getting involved with anyone. Planned to focus only on baseball,” he said when his breath came easier. “But I can’t stay away from you. You follow me, even in my sleep. Your eyes.” He kissed each lid. “Your smile.” He pressed his lips to each corner. “These freckles.” His warm mouth brushed her cheeks.

  Her chest expanded, taking in his beautiful words. This incredible moment. And then it hit her, reality a cold shower.

  She opened her eyes and scooted away. “Garrett. I don’t know.”

  His eyes moved out over the falls, tracking the sprays of water as they hit the jutting rocks and tumbled to earth. “You don’t trust me.”

  Her mouth opened and closed. He was right. While he touched a chord inside that’d never sounded for anyone else, she still couldn’t put her heart in harm’s way again. And she knew without a doubt that if Garrett let her down, he’d devastate her as much as her mother had. Even more. She’d loved and lost too many times to try again, especially with her father gone so recently.