Broc was hauling down the field toward Adam, who was rushing with the ball in the air like Cameron Cruz the last time the Denver Storm had played against the Miami Surf. Cruz had run it to the end zone and then taunted Sam Dumont flagrantly; that’s what Adam was doing now. Broc jogged up to meet him, and they jumped into the air and chest bumped.
Seriously. All of Chase’s breath was gone. It was crazy, and it left him nervous and slightly off kilter.
The next thing that happened threw him completely off balance. Destiny jumped into Adam’s arms, who picked her up and twirled her around. It was like watching a romance movie.
This did not sit well with Chase. So not well, in fact, that on the next play, Chase decided to play his token strategy,. “Let’s get a touchdown by sheer speed and strength of the quarterback.” Even after he’d felt Broc grab his flags, he’d gone straight for Adam, knocking him down with a hard shoulder and pouncing into the end zone. It didn’t matter that it really didn’t count as a touchdown.
When Adam stood, wearing that familiar I’m so gonna whip you look, Chase knew he’d gotten his message across. He was being beaten at this game even though he’d been the local star for the past two years, and he wasn’t taking it lightly.
Adam took a step closer, his eyes flashing in warning. “You don’t want to do this, bro.”
Chase shoved the ball into his chest. “I got dibs on her, bro.” Until that moment, Chase hadn’t realized that he was upset about more than just being shown up on the football field. He hadn’t liked the way Adam and Destiny had celebrated in the end zone—at all.
“What?” Adam’s puzzled look faded into exasperation as he followed Chase’s gaze toward Destiny. “Oh, grow up.”
But Chase didn’t move. “I mean it. I got dibs.”
Dibs was a complicated process of identifying which girl the other brother couldn’t pursue. There was a long tradition in the Moon household that had started when Chase was in junior high. The tradition consisted of calling dibs when you wanted a specific girl; if you called her first, she was yours. Of course, Adam had put a bunch of stipulations on dibs: Chase couldn’t call girls in Adam’s grade, and Adam wouldn’t touch the ones in Chase’s grade. Honestly, they hadn’t even used dibs in college. Neither of them were ever interested in the same girls.
Adam scoffed. “No dibs.”
“She’s my grade.” Chase huffed, uncomfortably aware that he sounded like a fourteen-year-old.
Adam lifted his chin and snorted. “We’re not kids anymore, bro. Same rules don’t apply.” And he left Chase stewing there in his own rage.
It only got worse for Chase’s team from there. The next play was similar to the previous fire blaze thing, but this time, halfway down the field, Adam tossed the ball to Destiny. When Chase almost caught up to her, she tossed the ball back to Broc, who did a spinning move and pumped it all the way to Heather in the end zone. This, of course, led Adam’s whole team to do more whooping and hollering. Destiny and Heather, in what he imagined was a completely out-of-character moment, did their own version of a chest bump.
Most of the town that had been sitting around at the potluck was now watching this suddenly very intense and interesting game. To put it mildly, Chase was feeling the pressure. His very athletic brother, who he had always thought of as almost as good as him at football, was using his genius mind to outsmart everyone.
The two teams were tied at twelve to twelve. It was pointless to do field goals, so they just went off touchdowns.
Now, Chase’s team had the ball. He was pretty sure they had to get a touchdown to even stay in the game and not get blown out. While Adam’s team might not have started off well, they currently had an almost unstoppable momentum.
Sweat trickled from Chase’s hair—not the kind of sweat produced by running up and down the field, but the kind that came from fear of losing.
“What’s our plan?” Fancy demanded, pulling her rodeo queen lips into a pout.
Owen patted him on the back. “C’mon, man. It’s all right. We can do this.”
Chase turned to Owen, trying to think on his feet like his brother. “Why don’t you quarterback and then give me and Quinn a chance to book it down the field.”
Quinn stuck his thumb out at Owen. “You want him to quarterback?” he said, disbelieving.
Chase wasn’t expecting kickback. “They’ve been changing it up. Why don’t we change it up?”
Owen frowned.
It wasn’t their fault, Chase told himself. They’d played on his team even when they were younger, and Coach had never given them many chances for playing quarterback. “Fine.” Chase gritted his teeth. Then he had an idea. “Owen, we pretend you’re playing quarterback. Then you shovel it to me, and I’ll dish it down.”
They all scattered to their positions. Fancy hiked it, and Owen pitched it to Chase. Chase faked and cut, but in the end he took it down the middle again.
This time it was worse. Destiny rushed in from his side, and he easily dodged her … but in doing so, he right ran into the last person he was expecting: his brother.
The last thing he heard before passing out was his brother shouting. “Cole, get over here!”
Chapter 11
Adam waited patiently by his brother’s bedside in Chase’s room. His gaze circled the space without any hurry, taking in the walls layered with belt buckles and rodeo posters and shelf after shelf of trophies.
Chase had fallen hard; the doctor said it was probably a concussion. He was sleeping now, though he’d managed to give a few choice words when Adam was helping him get tucked in. Then, just before dozing off, he’d told Adam again that he had dibs.
Adam walked over to Chase’s window. His room was on the south side of the two-story home, facing east. He squinted, vaguely making out lights at the Haven place. Where Destiny was. He remembered visiting the place when he was really young; his brain, ever helpful, dredged up the factoid that Fate’s room had been up in that attic.
He caught himself reaching for Chase’s binoculars, the ones he kept next to his bed, and cursed. He knew that in the old days Chase and Fate had done signals back and forth; Adam had caught him on more than one occasion. Now, holding the binoculars made him feel like a peeping tom or something.
Even so, he let the compulsion take him. Destiny had watched them haul Chase into the ambulance with a worried expression on her face; now that the excitement had died down, he felt the odd urge to obliquely return the favor. Putting the binoculars to his eyes, he stared out at the Haven place, fiddling with the focus until he found what he wanted.
It was better than he’d imagined. There was Destiny— standing in the large triangular window of Fate’s old room. He could tell she held a paintbrush, letting it hover for a moment before bringing it gently down toward the easel.
He couldn’t see what she was painting, but something stirred inside of him, thinking about that picture from earlier. He recalled the vivid colors, the way she’d blended the watercolors, the simplicity of it, the way it’d made him feel. The way she made him feel.
He thought he could stare at her all night. It was too bad that his brother thought he had dibs on her, because Adam wasn’t caving on this. He wanted to get to know Destiny Morningstar, and he hadn’t wanted to get to know someone in a long time.
Then he jumped, fumbling with the binoculars before they could fall—without warning, she had turned to face him.
Chapter 12
Destiny didn’t know why she’d felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle, but she’d gotten the sense that someone was there—watching her.
As she turned and stared out into the fields, she saw faint lights glowing from the windows of the Moon place. It was strange that, even though they were almost a mile away, she could just turn and see those lights.
She thought of playing in that game tonight. She hadn’t been expecting to enjoy it so much or to even get that into it. Maybe it was because Adam had shown up. Having him as their
quarterback, feeling the tension in the air of brother against brother competing in a physical and mental battle … it had been downright fun.
Before seeing Adam play, she never would have believed he would be able to beat Chase at a sport. Not that Adam looked wimpy—he didn’t. She hadn’t even thought of Adam like that. After the game, she’d clearly seen that Adam matched Chase in height and strength. Chase wore the kind of clothes that showed off his strength, not to mention his strong-guy kind of attitude. On the other hand, every time she’d seen Adam out being active, he’d worn hiking boots with outdoorsy kinds of clothes, but he’d always had a T-shirt with a flannel shirt over it. He didn’t carry himself like Chase; he wasn’t all in-your-face with his physical prowess. No, he was clearly a tech person, so she’d only thought of him as a computer nerd kind of guy.
“Hey.”
Jerked out of her thoughts, Destiny jumped a little. “Hey.”
Aunt Faith walked in. She wore a pink flannel nightgown, and her hair was piled on top of her head in a ponytail. A knitted afghan was draped around her shoulders, and she held out a mug. “Sorry. I thought you might want some herbal tea.” She gave Destiny a soft smile that creased the edges of her eyes. “It helps with healing.”
Destiny let out a light laugh, still feeling lingering embarrassment from how the game had gotten so physical. She met her aunt in the middle of the room. “I guess we all got carried away. Have you heard how Chase is?” Adam had told everyone he would text if they needed anything.
Aunt Faith nodded. “Yes, he’s home. It was a concussion.”
Destiny nodded, taking a sip of tea and relishing the orange blossom flavors. Aunt Faith loved making herbal concoctions. “But he’s okay?”
Aunt Faith hesitated, tilting her head and giving her a suspicious look. “Yes … Do you mean Chase or Adam?”
“What?” That look had always made her nervous. Probably because Aunt Faith had always known when she and Fate had been up to something.
“Both those brothers seemed to be playing for more than a game out there.” Aunt Faith gave her a knowing look.
Destiny knew she was blushing. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Her aunt backed up a step. “Just go easy on those Moon boys.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She willed herself to meet her aunt’s gaze.
Aunt Faith cocked an eyebrow at her. With a light sigh, she turned for the door. “You might, or you might not. But I think it’s fun.”
Destiny shook her head. That was ridiculous. Obviously Chase was interested; he’d made that abundantly clear. But Adam … She rolled her eyes. He was a jerk most of the time. It had totally taken her off guard that he’d even played in the game today, much less shown up at all.
She walked back to the big window and stared out, unable to see anything more than the distant lights, trying to shake the weird feeling that someone was watching her. Flicking back to the picture, she measured it. Then, as she took a good look at it, deep humiliation rolled over her— without realizing what she’d done, she’d started to outline the edges of Adam Moon with his arm cocked back, throwing a football.
Chapter 13
When Chase woke the next morning, pain pounded into his brain, deep into the recesses behind his right eye. He cursed and closed his eyes. He didn’t know how long he lay there. All he knew was that sunlight was streaming into his window, which meant it had been too long; usually, by the time the sun came up, he'd have the cows milked, the pigs fed, and a run finished. Then there were the fifty push-ups he did before chugging down his first protein shake.
Feeling around in his mind, he tried to locate the bulk of the pain. He remembered running headlong into his brother’s shoulder and rearing back like a mustang and then falling flat. Everything was hazy after that: going to the hospital … Doctor Taggart and Adam hovering over him with concern … Good thing his parents were on a cruise at the moment; he knew his mother would be freaking.
“I brought you breakfast.”
Chase smelled eggs and ham. He couldn’t remember the last time his brother had made breakfast, especially for him. “You must feel pretty bad.” Cracking an eye open, he scooted himself back, ignoring the way the pain kicked up a notch.
His brother was already pulling a pillow back for him and then gently setting the tray on his lap. He held out two pills. “Take these.”
With some focus, Chase took the pills, then managed to pick up the glass of water and down them.
“This isn’t an apology breakfast, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Adam sat on a chair next to the bed.
“It’s not?” Breakfast spoke volumes about how bad Adam was feeling. He eyed the freshly cut-up strawberries and picked up his fork. “Then what is it?”
Adam sighed. “This is a breakfast to put you on notice.”
Shoveling a bite in his mouth, Chase grunted. “Right, you had to do chores this morning. I owe you.” Since their parents were gone, Adam had offered to pay Chase to do the chores. He hadn’t wanted to worry about them, and Adam always had side jobs with his computer-programming company.
“No.”
Chase looked up, confused at the concise way Adam nodded and kept his face sober. It reminded him of when he used to ask him for help in math when they were growing up. Patience. “Just spit it out.” Chase motioned with the fork.
Adam stood and moved toward the door. “I told you before: no dibs.”
“What?” Chase dropped his fork and started to move the tray off his lap. Pain stabbed into the side of his head, and he fell back.
“Sit down.” Adam’s voice was severe.
Chase barely grabbed the juice before it toppled. Unsteady, he took the whole tray and set it on the floor, clumsily moving around it to stand. “We need to talk about this.” Dizziness swept over him, leaving him bent over and hanging on to the side of the bed.
Adam moved next to him, gripping his shoulder. “Sit down,” he commanded in his bossy-older-brother voice.
Steadying himself, Chase woozily gave in, fighting back nausea. “We have rules,” he insisted. He let Adam guide him back into bed. “Girls my age are off limits.”
“That was in high school,” Adam pulled more pillows out of Chase’s closet and positioned them around his head. “Are you okay?”
The pain was pounding through his head, seeming to reverberate through his whole body. Clammy and cold and weak was how he felt. “I’m fine.” He tried to growl the words. “And I don’t care if that was in high school. Those are the rules.”
“Uh-huh.”
Before Chase knew it, Adam had put a cold cloth on his head. Chase vaguely remembered him sitting next to his bedside and doing the same thing last night. “Don’t you know it’s been proven cold cloths don’t do anything?” Chase said, without any energy behind the words. It actually felt heavenly.
Adam shrugged. “It’s what Mom told me to do, and I figured that she knows what she’s talking about after raising us.”
Chase closed his eyes. He was comforted that his brother was still by his side, but not comforted enough to give up. “My dibs still stands.”
His brother sighed. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“I don’t care.” And he didn’t. Instead his thoughts drifted to his memories of Destiny last night, of her red hair and the way it waved down her back as she ran, of the way her small but powerful body shot across the field with surprising speed …
“What?” his brother demanded.
Not liking having his thoughts of Destiny interrupted, he decided to tell him the truth. “I like her. I find her …”
“Surprising.”
Chase’s eyes flashed open, triggering another dull ache that he stubbornly ignored. “Are you kidding me? Do you seriously like her?”
It was annoying how Adam apparently liked the same girl that he did. They’d never fought over a girl, not really. Usually Adam got too distracted with his work to even pursue a girl. Granted,
he had been twitterpated over Janet Snow, but he’d never had a real shot with her. And then there was Laura, who’d been something to him years ago; Chase couldn’t even really remember what she’d looked like.
Exhaling heavily, Adam moved to the window that faced the Haven home and picked up the binoculars.
Chase closed his eyes again. “Don’t tell me you used those last night.” Luckily, the binoculars only picked up blurry images of people in windows. They didn’t pick up details. When he was in high school and he’d started trying to look at Fate’s home—an endeavor that he looked back on with considerable shame—he’d been relieved that he couldn’t really see her unless she was standing right in the window.
Adam sighed. “I could see her in the window last night. I think she was painting. I couldn’t make out what.” He sounded self-recriminating.
“You’re … you really like her.” Chase blinked in disbelief.
Adam shook his head. “I … She gets under my skin.”
Chase watched his brother stare out the window. “You idiot, she’s at the flower shop.”
“I know where she’s at,” he snapped, putting down the binoculars with a thud. Halfway to the door, he paused and whirled back around to point at Chase. “So we’re clear.”
Chase reached down, fingering a strawberry from the tray. Had he made it clear yet that he really didn’t like this situation? “She’s already going to the barn dance with me tonight.”
Adam hesitated. Then a grin washed over his face. “Right, like you’re going.”
“Oh, I’m going.” Chase put a finger into the air. “New rules.”
“Yes,” Adam agreed. “New rules.”
Chase leaned back into the pillows. “We trade off dates. The first one that can get her to kiss him wins.”
“Wait. What?”
“First one to get a kiss wins.” Okay, he might be warming up to the situation.
“Wins what?”
“Her.” A laugh escaped him, and he shook his head. “This is gonna be too easy.”
Spring in Snow Valley Page 33