Run With My Heart (Texas Tornadoes Sports Romance Book 1)

by Lorana Hoopes

  “That’s no problem. We’ll probably be done earlier that night anyway. You’re going there this evening after practice, right?”

  Tucker wasn’t sure if Blaine was asking out of curiosity or to check up on him and make sure he was fulfilling his part of the bargain, but he guessed the latter. “Yes, I’m going there tonight, and I was there this morning.”

  “Good. Don’t forget. Every day this week. The director will be keeping track for me. You definitely don’t want to miss a day, or you might find yourself missing the next game.” He placed a bookmark in his book, closed it, and shoved it in his locker. “I’ll see you out on the field.”

  And then he was gone, and Tucker was alone in the locker room. With a sigh, he peeled off his shirt and changed into his practice one. He hated having to answer to Blaine. The man appeared too perfect, and Tucker wondered if he ever did anything wrong. He would definitely be relieved when this week ended.

  * * *

  Shelby stared at the list of possible donors she had created and sighed. Calling businesses and asking for money was not her strong suit, but it had to be done. Her calculations showed that even if all the current kids and the ones who had left attended the clinic they would have enough for another month of rent, maybe two, but that was it. And that was if all the kids attended which Shelby knew was not a reality. Some would be busy, some wouldn’t be able to afford it, and some might not even care about football. That meant she needed to get the word out to the community and quickly. She hoped that by calling the local businesses, she might be able to drop off flyers tonight or tomorrow morning for them to hang up. If she was really lucky, she might be able to secure a few donations in exchange for sponsorship mentions.

  Her first call though had to be to the newspaper and radio stations. It was short notice, but she hoped they would be able to run a Public Service Announcement or something. She had tried to call on Friday, but by the time she’d had everything hammered out with Tucker, no one had been answering the phones.

  “Woodville Gazette, how may I direct your call?” the woman on the other end said.

  “Hello, this is Shelby Doll from the community center. I’m not sure who I need, but I was hoping to speak with someone about running an ad for an event we have coming up on Wednesday.”

  “That would be Marcia Walker. I’ll connect you.”

  Shelby held her breath as the phone rang and rang and rang. She sighed when the voicemail picked up. She had been hoping to talk to a real person; but as time was of the essence, a voicemail would have to do. Hopefully, Marcia would call back, but if not, she’d try again tomorrow morning. She left a message and then replaced the phone in the cradle.

  The next number yielded a voicemail as well. As did the place after that. By the time she finished the list, she had only been able to speak with people at two of the businesses. Both had agreed to let her hang flyers, but only one was considering a donation. “Holiday times are tough,” they’d said which had made Shelby nearly laugh out loud. Didn’t they know that was the exact reason she was calling?

  She wondered when the shift had happened. When exactly had people stopped donating? She’d noticed it over the years, even as a volunteer — fewer and fewer donations coming in, but this year had to be the worst. And it wasn’t just the community center. She’d noticed it at church too. People had stopped putting tithes in the offering plate when it was passed. She supposed some people gave online like she did, but her church always posted the amount of money received each week, and she’d noticed it getting lower and lower.

  “Hey, last kid is gone, and Tucker and I straightened up,” Kenzi said knocking on the doorframe. “You gonna head out of here some time tonight?”

  “Yeah, I was just trying to get us some coverage for the clinic on Wednesday, but it’s not looking good. I’m going to canvas the businesses tomorrow to see about posting flyers. Did you make sure all the kids got one?”

  “We did.”

  “I might have an idea,” Tucker said, appearing behind Kenzi. “I could check with the PR rep for the Tornadoes and see if they would put something on our website.”

  Shelby’s heart soared. “That would be amazing exposure. Do you think he’ll do it?”

  Tucker shrugged. “I don’t see why not unless it’s a time thing, but I’ll call him as soon as I leave here. Do you have anything else you need me to do?”

  “Not for tonight. Thank you though.” Shelby shut off the computer and grabbed her purse. “It’s time to call it a night anyway.” She pulled on her coat and flicked the light off. Maybe things would work out after all. If Tucker could get the clinic posted on the webpage, that would have to draw in some new people. She followed Kenzi and Tucker toward the door, dropping her head to rummage for her keys in her purse.

  “Oh my gosh, it’s snowing.”

  “What?” Shelby’s head popped up at Kenzi’s statement. Sure enough, tiny flakes flitted past the window. Snow? Why was it snowing? They lived in central Texas where it almost never snowed.

  “I knew it,” Tucker said as he pushed open the door. “I felt it the other night. That chill in the air.”

  “It can’t snow.” Shelby locked the front door and then pulled on her gloves. “What if it keeps people from coming to the clinic?”

  “Don’t worry,” Kenzi said, tilting her head back and opening her mouth to catch a snowflake. “It’s barely anything. I doubt it even sticks.”

  But Shelby wasn’t so sure. The little voice of doubt in her head had started up again. What if it wasn’t just a dusting? What if it turned into something more? What if it snowed enough that they had to cancel the clinic?

  Unlocking her car, she climbed inside and turned the key to let the engine warm up. As she did, she watched the flakes of snow glide past her window. “Please stop snowing,” she whispered as her eyes scanned the gray clouds. They were dark and heavy, and right now they were teasing her; but she knew at any moment they would open up and dump the snow they were concealing. It would blanket the ground, sending tremors of excitement through all the kids as they prayed for enough snow to build a snowman or go sledding or have a snowball fight. Daggers of disappointment would pierce all the parents as they dreaded having to drive on the icy streets.

  Shelby usually loved the snow; she always had. Memories of playing in the snow with her big brothers and building giant snowmen with her dad were some of her favorites from when she was young. Of course, here in Texas, it didn’t snow nearly as often as it had in Nebraska where she grew up until her father’s company moved them out to Fort Worth; but she’d still always prayed for snow every December.

  Her mother had never enjoyed the snow as much as Shelby had. Perhaps she had when she was little, but snow in Nebraska rarely closed businesses, and it almost never closed hospitals. Since her mother was a nurse, it had often meant her getting up for work extra early to drive the snow-covered streets safely. Her shift had been full of helping others who were not so cautious, and finally when her shift ended, generally after running at least an hour later than planned, she would have to make the treacherous drive back home in the dark. Shelby had never fully understood why her mother didn’t enjoy the snow. Until now.

  Now, as the cold from the outside invaded her car and chilled her insides, she could understand her mother’s reaction. Now that she had responsibilities and an upcoming event that dangled precariously already, she could see the snow not for the magical wonderland that it was, but for the havoc-wreaking disaster it might become.

  If it snowed too much, the center would have to close, and that would be disastrous with the unpaid rent hanging over her head and the Christmas party still not funded. Plus, delivering flyers and asking for donations would be a lot harder if Shelby had to do it trudging through snow. Even worse, the snow might keep people from attending the clinic. And then where would she get the money?

  Though she didn’t normally pray for God to influence the weather, she found herself doing it now as she drove
to her parent’s house. “Lord, please don’t let the snow stick. Please let it pass us. You know how much this center means to the community and the kids. Please.”

  Shelby groaned as the snow fell heavier, and her windshield wipers worked extra hard keeping her windshield cleared. The rhythmic swishing of their blades sent her heart pounding even faster as the scene outside her window became more like a snow globe freshly shaken.

  How she used to love snow globes. They were the one trinket she always bought when her family took a trip somewhere. Sam always bought a shot glass, Scott collected hats, but Shelby had always gravitated to the snow globes. For a time, they had lined her shelves; and some nights, she would take one to bed, shake it, and wish she could live in the tiny house or village that appeared so peacefully nestled in the swirling snow. As she had gotten older, her interest in them had waned. She wasn’t even sure where they had ended up after she moved out though, and she hadn’t thought of them in ages. They were forefront in her mind now, however, as the snow grew thicker and swirled lazily out the window; and unless Shelby was imagining it, the ground sported a fresh white color in places. It was sticking.

  She parked the car in her parent’s driveway and rushed inside. The warmth from their heater blanketed her as she shook the white powder from her hair.

  “Oh no, is it snowing?” her mother asked as she entered the room.

  “It is,” Shelby growled as she removed her shoes. “It started off light, but it’s definitely getting thicker out there. I’m praying that it stops.”

  Her mother’s brow lifted. “You? Praying it stops? I thought you loved the snow.”

  “I do, but it’s the worst time right now. If it keeps snowing, it might cancel the clinic I have planned on Wednesday. Without that, I don’t know how we’re going to get the money we need.”

  “Well, I’m sure God will provide for you. Heaven knows we need the center to give those kids a safe place after school and during breaks. Try not to worry about it too much right now. Dinner’s ready. Are you hungry?”

  Shelby spared one more glance out the front window before heaving a resigned sigh, nodding, and following her mother to the dining room.

  Scott, Sam, Iris, and her father were already seated around the large table when Shelby and her mother entered. The extra leaf had been put in, but it was still a tight squeeze for the six of them. She wondered what would happen when she and Scott got married. Would her parents purchase a larger table, or would the family dinners fall apart? She certainly hoped it wasn’t the latter. Except for Kenzi, who could always get her to talk, these family dinners were the only other place Shelby really felt comfortable, whole, loved.

  “Ah, there’s my two favorite girls,” her father said as they pulled out their chairs. “For a moment, I thought we were going to have to start without you.”

  “No, sorry, I just had to drive slower due to the snow,” Shelby said as she sat in her chair.

  “Is it snowing?” Iris craned her head around Sam to see out the dining room window.

  “It is and it’s getting thicker by the minute. I could use some prayer that it stops before it shuts down the fundraiser I have scheduled for Wednesday,” Shelby said. “The center could certainly use the money.”

  “Well, why don’t we add that to the prayer for tonight,” her father said as he held out his hand. Around the table everyone grabbed the hand next to them and bowed their heads. “Lord, we thank you for this food that you have provided. We thank you for the time we are able to spend together as a family and for the jobs you have given us all. Please help the community center find funding to stay open. We know there are many in this town who are struggling and need the doors to stay open. In your name, Amen.”

  “Amen,” Shelby echoed as she opened her eyes. She glanced out the window, but the thick snowflakes now looked more like a white curtain than individual crystals. It appeared God was not in the business of granting miracles tonight.

  8

  Darkness still filled the room when Shelby’s alarm went off, but it took her only moments to shake the sleep from her eyes. She had to check the snow. Pushing the plush comforter back, she swung her legs out and into her fluffy leopard print house shoes that she always kept by the side of her bed. Even though her room was carpeted, it was always cold in the morning. The poor old heater just couldn’t seem to keep up with the draft that drifted in through the old windows.

  A few steps brought her to the window, and she pulled back the curtains. The streetlight gave just enough illumination to see that snow still fell softly to the completely white ground. She let the curtain fall back over the window and padded back to her nightstand where the remote sat.

  She punched the button, and the old television hummed to life. It was a flat screen, but not the fancy ones that were so popular today. She had no Apple TV, no Roku device, and definitely no 3D. No, this was a television she had purchased used when her last television had given up the ghost. The screen flickered for a moment before coming into focus, and Shelby curled her feet up under her to watch the news report.

  “While we expected snow, we did not predict it would happen this quickly or that we would get this much,” the woman on the screen said. Her blonde hair fell in perfect waves to her thin shoulders, and though Shelby had often heard that TV cameras made people look ten pounds heavier, this woman didn’t appear to have any extra weight on her. Her hand motioned to the screen behind her, and Shelby marveled at how good she was at making it appear she could see the image on the screen when Shelby knew a green screen was the only thing behind the woman. It was fascinating technology.

  “The streets are still slick, and the DOT is recommending that you give yourself an extra half hour of driving time to navigate the icy roads. The good news, for those of us who have to commute to work, is that the sun is expected to come out today; and temperatures are expected to rise to the mid-forties, melting all the snow by late afternoon.”

  “Yes,” Shelby jumped up from the bed and danced an awkward jig over to her closet. She might not have rhythm, but what she lacked in style, she made up for in exuberance. And she knew just who to thank this morning. The snow would be gone by tomorrow which meant the clinic could continue as planned.

  She jumped in the shower, whistling as she washed. Maybe they could even take the kids out back to play in the snow if they all brought warm enough coats. She knew they would go stir crazy if they were stuck in the center while the snow taunted them from the ground.

  Her joy lasted through breakfast, through brushing her teeth, and bundling up for the cold. It even lasted through the slightly terrifying drive where she almost swerved off the road when she was forced to brake at the bottom of a slight hill, but it died as she pulled into the parking lot of the community center. She had no idea why, but an ominous feeling that something was wrong fell on her shoulders as she parked the car and got out.

  Nothing looked out of place. Snow covered the roof, but thankfully, it still appeared to be in one piece. The windows weren’t cracked or broken, so what was it?

  With careful, deliberate steps, Shelby made her way up the sidewalk. She’d have to get some salt on it quickly before anyone slipped and fell. Hopefully they had some in the supply shed. The supply shed? Had something happened to it? Was that why she felt something was wrong? She quickly veered to the right and toward the shed, but when she rounded the corner, she stopped. The shed looked fine, and the lock still hung securely on the door. So, that wasn’t it either.

  Shaking her head, she returned to the center and unlocked the front door. The lights flicked on like normal, so it wasn’t the loss of electricity that bothered her. Had she left her computer on? The deposit out? She didn’t think so. Closing was habit for her, and she did it the same way every night. Shelby opened the reception area door, but there was no light coming from the computer and no deposit bag on the table.

  She must be going crazy. It was probably just the fear of not getting the money needed that had
her freaking out. Opening the desk drawer, she placed her purse inside and then took off her coat. The chill set in immediately. She needed to get the heater turned on, so the kids wouldn’t freeze when they got here and then maybe fix herself some hot tea.

  The thermometer was located on the way to the kitchen, and she clicked it on and cranked the dial up a few notches for good measure. Then she turned on the kitchen light and grabbed the kettle from the stove. It still had a little water in it, but figuring she might need more, she took off the lid and placed it under the faucet. She turned the handle, but no water came out of the faucet. Shelby tapped on the handle. Was there a clog somewhere? Had the landlord forgotten to pay the water bill? No, she would have gotten a notice if that was the case, wouldn’t she?

  “Shelby? Are you here?” Tucker’s voice carried through the quiet building.

  “In the kitchen,” she called back.

  “Everything okay?” he asked as he stepped through the door frame.

  “Not really. We don’t seem to have water.” She turned the faucet again to show him, and a frown creased his features.

  “Do you know where the water shut off valve is?”

  Shelby blinked at him. Water shut-off valve? What was he talking about? She didn’t have any water, so why would she need to shut it off? “I don’t know. Why?”

  “I think your pipes might be frozen, and if we don’t get the water shut off before they start thawing, they could burst.”

  Shelby’s eyes widened. Was this what her ominous feeling had been about? “That would be bad, right?”

  “That would be very bad. Burst pipes usually cause flooding which could shut the center down for weeks.”

  “No! No, no, no.” She shook her head as she began pacing the floor. “We can’t shut down for weeks. If we shut down, we’ll lose the last few clients we have, and then I’ll have no way to pay the rent.” Shelby was babbling, but she couldn’t stop. This was her nightmare come true, and she’d thought they were finally going to be able to save the center.