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

by Lorana Hoopes

  The door to room 312 stood ajar, and he paused to take one final deep breath before pushing the door open. His father appeared still and quiet in the bed, and Whitley sat in a chair nearby with a book on her lap. Her gaze lifted at the sound of Tucker’s footsteps, and her eyes widened.

  “Tucker, you made it,” she said as she launched herself out of the chair and across the room.

  She was thinner than he remembered, but her smile appeared the same. Bright and wide, it showed off her dimple and dispelled all the shadows that had been hanging over his head. “I told you I would try, Whit.”

  Her arms wound around his neck and squeezed as if she was afraid he might be an apparition and disappear if she wasn’t holding onto him. “I know, but I didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

  Guilt pulled at his heart. It had been too long. He should have come home, even if it was just to see her.

  “Tucker?” His father’s voice was quiet and scratchy and it ended the brother-sister reunion.

  Reluctantly, Tucker stepped toward the bed. “I’m here, Dad.”

  “I told her not to call you. I know how busy you are with football and the incident.”

  “It was dropped, Dad. The team gave me community service for it, but it’s okay. Thank you.” The words reminded him that his father had been too busy to show up and bail him out in the first place.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t come. Big case.”

  “There’s always a big case, Dad.” Tucker didn’t mean for the words to be hurtful, but he saw the emotion flash in his father’s eyes nonetheless. “I’m used to you not showing up by now.”

  “Tucker.” Whitley hissed in a shocked voice, but their father held up his hand.

  “No, he’s right, Whitley. I haven’t been there for him, for either of you. I’ve been so consumed with my own grief that I didn’t realize you two must have been grieving as well.”

  The conversation with Benji played again in Tucker’s head. He’d figured out that night that his father hadn’t hated him, but he hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear the words until now. Was this what Shelby had meant when she’d discussed forgiving his father? Was this God at work? Shelby. She still hadn’t returned his call. He hoped she wasn’t too angry with him.

  Before he could say anything, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out expecting it to be Shelby, but the number wasn’t the one he had called previously. “I’ll be right back.” Tucker wasn’t sure why he felt the need to explain his actions. He was a grown man, and he could take a phone call if he needed to.

  “Hello?” he asked when he crossed the doorway and entered the hall.

  “Tucker, it’s Coach.”

  Dread filled Tucker, coursing like poison through every vein. Coach never called unless there was trouble, and he’d cleared the leave with him this morning. “Hey, Coach. What can I do for you?”

  The man exhaled a large sigh. “It’s about Sunday, Tucker. The man involved with the altercation called the league.”

  “What?” Anger and frustration erupted within Tucker, fighting for control. “Can he do that? I was never charged.”

  “I know, but you know how image is. It’s everything; and so, even though the league knows you weren’t at fault, they want to send a message. They’re suspending you for Sunday’s game.”

  “No, they can’t do that. It’s the playoffs, Coach. The next game is the wild card game. If we lose, we’re out. I can’t not play in the possible last game of the season.” Frustration edged ahead of anger, and Tucker ran his hand across the back of his neck, massaging the muscles that now stood rigid with tension.

  “I know it’s the playoffs, Tucker, but I can’t get you out of this one. It’s just one game. If we win it, you’ll still be able to play in the quarterfinals, the semifinals, and the championship game.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” Tucker asked. This was a nightmare. He’d worked so hard the last few days. And he’d changed. He could feel it.

  “I doubt it, but you could try doing something to improve your image. Issue a public apology, help out a charity — something to show them that the bar fighter is not the real you.”

  Images of the center and it’s used equipment flashed into Tucker’s mind. He’d brought some footballs already, but what if he supplied a whole new collection of sports equipment? What if he did it at the Christmas party? In fact, what if he got some of the other guys to go with him to the party? It could be a big team event and maybe even boost morale before the big game.

  * * *

  “Still no word from him?” Kenzi asked as Shelby massaged her temples.

  “None, and I just keep getting his voicemail. I don’t know why he wouldn’t at least call and explain. Now, it appears he might not be funding the party after all, and I have no one else to call and no money to buy gifts for the kids.” She lifted her eyes to Kenzi’s and sighed.

  “Okay, that does stink,” Kenzi said. True to her personality, Kenzi was still trying to find the silver lining in the dark clouds that filled Shelby’s vision. “Maybe we can find some leftover things around here?”

  “That’s all we have is leftover things, Kenzi. Leftover things that nobody wants.” The ringing of the phone interrupted her pity party, and Shelby forced a smile she didn’t feel to her face as she picked up the phone. “Southlake Community Center, this is Shelby, how may I help you?”

  “Shelby, thank goodness. Did you get my message?”

  Tucker’s voice both irritated her and sent her heart fluttering. Ugh, why did he affect her so much? “No, I saw no message, and I’ve been trying to call you for hours. Where are you Tucker? You’re supposed to be here helping plan the Christmas party for tomorrow night.”

  “I know, but my dad had a heart attack. I had to fly to San Antonio to see him and I just got your messages, but I want you to still go ahead with the party for tomorrow.”

  “Tucker, are you sure? The news—”

  “I don’t care about the news, Shelby. I should have told you sooner about Jude Renfrow, and I’m sorry. But he’s not important now. What’s important is making sure those kids have a Christmas.”

  Was she dreaming? She pinched her arm to make sure she was really awake. Tucker Jackson didn’t care about the suspension and he still wanted to fund the party? She could barely believe it, but though she appreciated his selflessness, it still didn’t answer the bigger problem. “How? I have no money, no decorations, nothing.”

  “I’m going to wire you some money. Use it to get whatever decorations you need. Also, call the media and see if you can get Sylvie Sanders back out. I’ll cover the gifts, and I promise I’ll be back tomorrow for the party.”

  “But your dad?”

  “I’ll figure it out. You take care of things on your end, and I’ll take care of things on mine. Seven o’clock tomorrow evening, we’ll show those kids a party they won’t soon forget.”

  “Okay, if you say so.” She hung up the phone and turned to Kenzi, still dazed at what had just transpired.

  “Was that Tucker?”

  “It was. He said he left a message about today. Evidently his father had a heart attack.”

  Kenzi’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my gosh, is he okay?”

  “I don’t know. I forgot to ask.” Shelby couldn’t believe she had forgotten that simple courtesy. She definitely had too much on her mind right now. “Anyway, he said he was wiring money and that I was to take care of the decorations and spreading the word. He said he’d take care of the gifts.”

  “Well, we better get started then. We’ve got a lot to do before tomorrow night.”

  16

  “So, has a doctor told you anything?” Tucker asked when he returned to the room. He suddenly had a lot on his plate that he needed to do.

  “The doctor was in this morning before you got here. They think they can insert a stent. Why? Are you in a hurry to run off somewhere?” Whitley crossed her arms and arched her left eyebrow as if she thought
she could intimidate Tucker with her expression.

  “That call was my coach. The guy who punched me contacted the league and they want to suspend me for Sunday’s game.”

  “Can they do that?” his father asked. “I thought I got the charges dropped.”

  “You did, but evidently they want to make a lesson out of this. However, that’s water under the bridge. The bigger issue is this center where I’ve been volunteering. I was supposed to be there today to help fund and plan a Christmas party for the kids, and these kids deserve a party. Some of them have very little. So, I need to make some calls; and I’ll have to fly back tomorrow, but I want to be here for the surgery if I can.”

  His father’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and he blinked them away then coughed to clear his throat. “I think that’s a great idea, Tucker, and even if it means you have to miss my surgery, it’s okay with me.”

  Whitley stood and placed her hand on his forehead. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You’re willing to spend money to throw a party for other people even though it might not help you out? Who are you and what have you done with my big brother?”

  “Hey, I help people,” Tucker said, but as the words left his mouth, he realized Whitley was right. He had been selfish. He’d been thinking about how the losses affected him and not about the rest of the men on the team. He’d been wallowing in his sorrows which had caused him to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And he’d dismissed community service at first because it would take up his time.

  “Okay, maybe you’re right. I haven’t been the best example of helping people, but working at the center has made me see things differently.”

  “Well, I’m proud of you,” Whitley said squeezing his shoulder.

  “Me too,” his father said from the bed. “What can we do to help?”

  “I want to purchase new equipment for the center and then I need someone to go shopping for toys for the kids.”

  Whitley tossed her hair over her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips. “I’m a great shopper. I could run and get the toys.”

  “Awesome.” He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and handed her a credit card. “Take this and buy at least fifty gifts.”

  Her eyes widened. “Fifty? Do I have a limit?”

  Tucker chuckled. “Well, try not to break the bank but no, no limit.”

  “This is going to be so much fun.” As the light glistened in her eyes, he wondered if he had just made a terrible mistake.

  “Dad, do you think you feel up to shopping online for some equipment for the center? I need basketballs, softballs, jump ropes, the like.”

  “I can do that,” his father said. “Scrolling and clicking is my specialty.”

  “Great.” Tucker handed the laptop to his father. “No work, just shopping.”

  His father rolled his eyes but promised. Tucker took out his phone and sat down in one of the nearby chairs. He had a lot of phone calls to make, but before he dialed the first number, his eyes wandered to his father. Could this be the start of a better relationship for them? If so, he knew he had two people he needed to thank — Shelby and God.

  * * *

  “Yes, that’s right. Tomorrow night at seven p.m. It’s going to be an amazing community event and Tucker Jackson asked specifically for Sylvie Sanders. Can she make it?” Shelby swallowed the seed of jealousy that had sprouted in her stomach when Tucker requested Sylvie. She knew it was probably just because the woman had already covered one story and would be the natural choice to do the next one as well; but as she still wasn’t sure where she stood with Tucker, she couldn’t help the jealous feelings swimming through her body. He hadn’t mentioned rescheduling their date when he’d called.

  “I think we can make that work. I’ll put the story on Sylvie’s docket.”

  “Thank you so much.” Shelby hung up the phone and shook her head. She’d spent the last week worrying that this event would never happen, but now it appeared unstoppable. She and Kenzi had picked up the money from Tucker and purchased Christmas decorations and food. Then Kenzi had started decorating while Shelby had called to get the media coverage in place. The newspaper and the local news and radio stations had agreed to send someone out, and Shelby had a feeling this would be their best Christmas party ever.

  A giant smile parted Shelby’s lips as she exited the reception area to see the kids helping Kenzi decorate. Jingle Bells played softly on an old boombox, but the kids didn’t seem to care. They were laughing and smiling in a way that Shelby hadn’t seen in a long time. Darby was standing on a chair helping Kenzi hang streamers while Benji sorted out the strings of Christmas lights. Quinn and Kayla were setting up the artificial tree while still others were pulling the freshly purchased ornaments out of the box.

  “How can I help?” Shelby asked as she neared the group. “We have to get this place ready for tomorrow night.”

  “Is Mr. Tucker coming to help too?” Benji asked.

  “He had to go see his dad, but he’s helping from down there. However, he promised he’ll be back tomorrow for the party,” Shelby said.

  “We should do something special for him for hosting the thing last night,” Darby said as she pushed her glasses up her nose. “That was really nice of him to show us how to play even though I don’t really like football.”

  Shelby smiled at the girl. “You’re right. It was. We should do something nice for him. Do you guys have any ideas?”

  “We could make him a card,” Darby said. “Something colorful and pretty and maybe with unicorns on it.”

  Shelby mashed her lips together to keep from laughing. Somehow she doubted Tucker was the unicorn kind. “I think that would be lovely, but maybe something else as well since he’s a boy and probably more of a sports fan than a unicorn fan.”

  “We could give him a football,” Quinn said, “though I’m not sure he would want any of ours.”

  “Do we have enough to purchase a new football, Ms. Shelby?” Benji asked, pausing his untangling to shoot her a very serious look.

  “I think we might. What are you thinking?”

  “What if we got him a new football and we all signed it? You know like people do with a cast. Only he wouldn’t have to cut it off, and he could keep it forever.”

  Shelby swallowed the emotion rising in her throat and forced her hand to stay at her side and not dab at her eyes. She knew if she did, the flood gate would drop, and she would end up crying in front of the kids which would probably scare them more than anything. “That’s a great idea, Benji.”

  “Yeah, great idea, man,” Quinn said as he clapped a hand on Benji’s shoulder.

  The other kids echoed their agreement, and Shelby watched Benji sit just a little taller in his chair. Yes. This. This was exactly what had been missing before Tucker came into their lives. “Well, I guess I better run to the store and grab a football then so you guys have a chance to sign it tonight. Can you hold down the fort for a bit, Kenzi?”

  “Are you kidding? I’m totally in my element here.”

  It was true. Kenzi looked like a natural as she hung the streamers. As Shelby looked around, she realized the gym had already been transformed into something magical. Perhaps Kenzi had found her calling after all.

  17

  “Where is he?” Shelby asked, wringing her hands for the fifth time in fewer than five minutes as she checked the front door again. It was six-thirty, and they would be opening the doors soon, but Tucker was nowhere to be seen.

  Kenzi placed a hand on her arm. “Relax. He’ll be here.”

  “What if he doesn’t show up? He hasn’t even called today. What if he got in a wreck or something happened to his dad? We have no presents if he doesn’t show up.”

  Kenzi grabbed both of Shelby’s shoulders and shook her. “Stop it. You’ll drive yourself crazy with what ifs. What is it you always say about worry?”

  Shelby sighed as she pictured the pastor at her church sharing the wisdom that had stuck with her for so many
years. “Worrying accomplishes nothing except taking time away from today.” She knew the pastor was right, and the Bible instructed God’s children not to worry or fear but to cast those worries and fears on Jesus instead, but it was a lot easier said than done.

  “Right. This is going to be a magical evening, Shelby. Don’t tarnish it by worrying about what you can’t control.”

  Shelby took a deep breath and nodded. The place was magical. Kenzi had hung twinkly lights around the room along with wreaths and streamers in red, green, and white. The artificial tree, while small, twinkled merrily and boasted the many ornaments the kids had hung on it. It even had a few uneven strands of popcorn though none long enough to wrap all the way around as the kids had eaten it before it reached that point. A long table held the cookies and treats Shelby had picked up on the way here. She had also set out punch and cups, plates, and napkins. All that was missing were the kids, who were on their way, and the presents.

  Shelby glanced out the window again and ran a hand down her red party dress. She almost never wore red, but Kenzi had been adamant that she wear something bright and festive tonight. Kenzi had also done her makeup even though Shelby had protested the red lip color that matched her dress but seemed too bright for her. Without a conscious thought, her hand found the tendril that never stayed up with the rest of her hair and tugged on it.

  “Will you stop?” Kenzi scolded, slapping her hand down.

  Shelby flushed. She hated getting caught twirling her hair, but she supposed she could have worse habits. In high school, she had known a girl who pulled out her eyebrows and eyelashes. Often times, she would come to school with entire patches missing. There was also a boy who had scratched at his arm so often that it would bleed. The teacher would stop the bleeding, the wound would scab over, and then he would scratch the scab off and make it bleed again. Yes, in comparison, her hair twirling was a minor, albeit obnoxious, habit.