Timber Creek

“You know why.” She took off her mitt and tucked it firmly into her crossed arms as though it might act as a shield.



He saw it as an invitation to goad her. “You mad I caught the ball?”



“I didn’t know men like you had balls.”



A laugh exploded from him. She always had known how to catch him off guard. “If you’re trying to get the one-up on me, it’s not working. But if this is your way of flirting…”



She upped her pace before he could finish, making a beeline for the bleachers, where she squished between two other players. “I was not flirting,” she muttered angrily. She kept her arms tightly crossed as she glowered straight ahead.



With one look from Eddie, the other players instantly scooted, making room for him to sit next to her. He chuckled as he settled beside her. “Whatever you say.”



“Hey, Billy,” he called. “My bag?”



The sheriff tossed Eddie his duffel, and he dug through for his bottle of water. He cracked it open and offered it to Laura first.



“No, thank you,” she said primly.



“Whatever.” He guzzled the whole thing down and caught her glimpsing him out of the corner of her eye. It was a hot day, and the girl was bound to be thirsty. He unzipped the side pocket and pulled out his stuff until he found another bottle to hand to her. “Just in case.”



She took it, but her focus was on the contents of his bag. It was the usual gym bag assortment—car keys, towel, fresh shirt—but she smirked when she spotted his book. The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt, by Edmund Morris. It’d won a Pulitzer. Not exactly smirkworthy. He raised his brows, giving her a challenging look. “What?”



“I didn’t know Neanderthals could read.”



He looked down, tucking everything back in the bag, feeling suddenly tired. She really refused to see him.



Fine, then. If Laura thought he was nothing more than an oversexed, sports-playing, joke-cracking townie, then that was how he’d show himself to her. She wanted Neanderthal; he’d give her Neanderthal.



He raised his eyes to hers, raking her body with a slow, sizzling look. “I’ve got a brain, darlin’. I just prefer to use my body.”



She gaped, and for a satisfying moment, her shocked eyes remained locked with his. He was the first to look away, making like he was watching their teammates up at bat. He shifted, making sure his thigh brushed against hers, even though he kept his eyes glued to home plate.



He felt her tense and fidget in a way that told him she was mustering a response. Finally she found her voice and whispered angrily, “You can do whatever you want with your body. I’m sure you’re as much of a womanizer as you’ve always been. Just keep away from me.”



“Womanizer?” he exclaimed, unthinking. It was the last word he’d use to describe himself.



But then he thought about how he must seem. He flirted, sure. And he dated. He was easy and fun, and women always liked that. So what if he was a ladies’ man—it wasn’t that he didn’t respect them. Quite the opposite.



His problem was, he was holding out for the full package, waiting for The One. He wanted true love, a wife to grow old with, a bunch of kids, and the white picket fence, too. But guys didn’t go around bragging about stuff like that. And so he bided his time, flirting and having fun.



“I’m no womanizer,” he grumbled, unable to muster a more clever response than that.



He wondered what it was Laura wanted out of life—aside from him and Fairview disappearing off the face of the earth.



Fairview. They were a wily bunch. Secretly, he’d done as she’d asked and triple-checked their paperwork—not that he’d give Laura the satisfaction of telling her as much. He’d reviewed their permits, combed through the building plans. It was all clear. They had a green light to begin work. It was time to break ground.



So why was he still delaying? He’d been postponing, finding little things to hold them up, telling Hunter and the suits how their fixtures were back-ordered, how his subs were tied up till next week. All true, of course. Only normally, Eddie would’ve kicked some ass and gotten the fixtures elsewhere or told his subcontractors it was now or never. Workers, sadly, were easy to find in this economy.



But he was up against it now. There was no more delaying. Come Monday, it’d be time to get going. He hated the thought that he wouldn’t just be building a second story onto the old rancher—he’d be building a wedge that would permanently separate him from Laura.



Billy was up at bat, and Eddie made himself focus. The sheriff was obviously close to the Bailey family—being engaged to the youngest daughter had a way of doing that—and he found himself oddly competitive, oddly jealous.



Preston hit a grounder in the gap to right and ran to first. Nice and solid. Eddie flexed his hands, scrutinizing every move the pitcher made. He wanted to do better than nice and solid.



Meantime, it was Laura’s turn. “You’re up.”



“Me?” Suddenly, she looked stricken.



He’d never seen her appear anything but confident and on top of her world. “Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing? The Laura Bailey, nervous?”



But she didn’t laugh. Instead, she just looked ill. “I haven’t batted since eighth-grade gym class.”



She really was having trouble. Without thinking, he put a hand on her knee. “Hey, it’s just a game, okay? Nothing to make yourself sick over.”



“Easy for you to say. Can’t you…what is it…pinch-hit for me?”



“That’s not how we play.” He nudged her. “Just give it a shot. This can’t be your first real softball game.” He peered at her, and when she didn’t respond, he exclaimed, “It is. City girl’s never played ball before.”



“Shut up.” She stood abruptly, and damn if he hadn’t spotted a flash of genuine hurt in her eyes.



He stood and, with a hand on her lower back, led her to the plate. “C’mon. I’ll help you. It’s easy. Just gotta keep your eye on the ball.”



They reached the plate, and she hesitated, like she was unsure she even knew where to stand.



“You really don’t know how to do this, do you?” He guided her shoulders, and her feet followed. “That’s it. Now bend your knees.”



“Just play the damn game,” someone shouted from the stands.



“C’mon,” Sorrow shouted back, “let him help her.”



“Hey, Taylor,” Billy called from first base. “If you don’t want me to write you up for public intoxication, you’ll give the lady a moment.”



Sorrow came to stand behind the catcher, her fingers twined in the chain-link fence. “Don’t mind him,” she told her sister quietly. “Take your time.”



Seeing how Laura’s hands were all wrong, Eddie said, “You almost got it. Now just choke up on the bat a little.” When she did the opposite, he simply wrapped his arms around her, nestling her body snug against his. He’d have sworn the touch of her skin on his brought an electric shock. She must’ve felt it, too, because she sucked in a breath that reverberated through his chest. He’d have liked to find a million different ways to take her breath away, and in that moment, he fantasized about a good half dozen.



“Get a room,” Scott shouted.



She stiffened, and he made a mental note to strangle his brother later.



“He’s an ass. Ignore him.” He bobbed his arms gently, trying to get her shoulders to loosen.



Women in the crowd began to cheer her on. “Come on, Laura!”



Bringing his mouth to her ear, he whispered, “Relax. Nice and easy.”



“I am relaxed,” she said, sounding far from it.



He pressed more closely against her. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”



“Not at all!” Her overly chirpy tone told him otherwise. “I got it from here. Thanks!”



He stepped back and made like he was simply studying her form as he let his eyes linger over those sleek, tanned legs and that tight butt, sticking out in the most adorable batting stance ever.



“You look great,” he said, meaning every word. “Eyes on the ball and swing.”



And God love her, but she swung and she hit that damned ball. The pitcher was too surprised to catch it, and it barreled to his right, and by the time the shortstop scooped it up, Laura had made it to first.



Eddie punched a fist in the air, whooping for her. Laura looked his way, and that beautiful face was beaming…right at him.



His heart swelled in his chest. Finally, finally, he’d won a smile. He grinned back, giving her a big thumbs-up.



She did a cute little bounce and wave, but it was that smile.



Her smile did him in.



Six



Helen was running late, and of course she was. She did this drill every morning. It would’ve been easier to herd cats than get her kids into the car on time. She’d wrangled the two youngest outside, but her oldest was still missing. With a quick check to her watch, she opened the screen door and leaned back inside.



“Luke,” she shouted. “Get down here right now. I’m gonna be late for work.” She waited. “Do you hear me? I’m leaving.” She pretended to shut the door, then paused. Nothing. She didn’t know why she even tried that one anymore—it never worked. She had a better idea. “Get down here this instant or I’ll tell Bear that it’s your fault I’m late. Maybe he can scold you instead of me.”



That brought his feet galloping down the stairs.



Luke appeared, and Helen’s breath caught. Though her oldest was only fifteen, something had happened in the past year. Where once there was a boy, she now saw the shadow of the man he’d be. And that man would be the spitting image of his father. She felt a pang, realizing their son wasn’t too much younger than Rob had been when they’d first met.



“Sorry, Mom. Ellie stopped up the toilet.”



She scowled and tossed down her purse. If she told that girl once, she’d told her a thousand times: not too much paper. “You get in the car. I’ll go take a look.” The last thing she needed was coming home to an overflowed toilet and flooded bathroom.