Chapter Four

Trig

Wes and Jane are hosting a Sunday barbeque for Michael’s baseball team, and I’ve promised to grill the hamburgers. I don’t usually commit to anything Sunday mornings because most times I’ve spent Saturday night raising hell. I like to meet up with friends at a bar or honky-tonk, knock back a few. The night often ends up with a brawl in the parking lot. Just blowing off a little steam before I decide if I’ll take a woman back to her place. I didn’t go out yesterday, though. After I took Maggie home I just wanted to hang out at home, alone.

The notion of carousing with friends is losing its appeal. I haven’t gone in weeks. My buddies are starting to ask if I’m sick or something. On the wagon. They’re giving me shit for staying home when there are plenty of women asking for me. I tell them I’m taking a break and they wonder what sweet thing has me wrapped around her finger.

Like that would ever happen. I pride myself on my freedom. There’s never been a woman who’s tempted me or even come close.

When I stroll through the house and into the kitchen, my little, near-runaway almost faints. She’s helping Jane with the salad and goes white as a sheet when she sees me. I narrow my eyes and she gives me a furious scowl in reply. Jane’s too busy to notice anything.

Taking the tray of burgers outside, I see Wes and Michael practicing their throws. Neither Wes or Jane know much about the boys’ past, just whatever the agency feels like putting in the file, but it’s clear that Michael has some natural ball-playing talent. He throws better than Wes, which isn’t saying much, but hearing the thwack of the ball hitting the mitt makes me smile.

Wes and Jane and the four boys eat, sleep and breathe baseball. Michael’s the only one playing fall ball, because the other three boy’s teams didn’t make the numbers. That’s all right because the family will be plenty busy with Michael’s select team.

As the rest of the team arrives, I see a few familiar faces, kids Wes has coached before and they nod a polite hello. Other kids I don’t know give me cautious glances before running off to join the others. Sometimes I forget that I have scars, and how they scare some people. Women, after a few drinks, often tell me how hot I am, but to kids I just look scary. The height, the tats, the scars. People can’t believe Wes and me are brothers.

Maggie comes out of the house and crosses the patio to the grill where I’m finishing off the burgers. She’s got more stuff for me to put on the grill.

“Jane forgot to give you the hot dogs,” she says softly.

She keeps her eyes averted. A strand of coal black hair falls across her face. I swear the girl wears the same damn clothes every time I see her. Yesterday I gave her money and I know she took money from my wallet. Part of me wants to tell her to spend it on something that doesn’t look like it came from a garage sale, but I’m pretty sure she’s not interested in my fashion advice.

“Warms my heart to see you helping Jane,” I say, taking the packages of hot dogs.

“That’s what I live for. To warm your heart.”

Her gaze lifts to meet mine and just as quickly she looks away, but I can see her lips twitch.

“Feeling brave, Maggie? Sassing me?”

She brushes the hair from her face bites her lip. “Did you mean it when you said you’d take me to Vegas if I graduate?”

I turn back to the grill and start on the hot dogs. “You really want to go to Vegas?”

“No, I want to go to Colorado.”

“Change of plans?”

She folds her arms. “I want to see the mountains. If I’m going to wait tables I want to live in some place pretty.”

Irritation collects inside me. Why the hell did I promise anything?

“Also, I don’t want to go with you,” she adds. “You can just buy me a bus ticket or something.”

“Pretty lofty ambitions. A bus ticket to a waitressing job.”

“Says the man who works in a garage.”

Her voice drips with disdain. Shaking my head, I fight the urge to set her straight. Yeah, I’m a mechanic. I spend my days working on semi-trucks, but I own my shop and have other mechanics working for me.

“So that’s what you want? A ticket to someplace in Colorado?”

She looks at me like she can’t believe I’ll agree. “Yes. Someplace where there are mountains.”

Her voice is small as she asks and the tone pulls at my heart a little. Every one of Wes and Jane’s kids have horrible backgrounds. Another thing they have in common is how little it takes to make them ridiculously happy. They never ask for much of anything and all Maggie wants is a bus ticket. To go from Texas to Colorado can’t be more than a hundred bucks. Maybe a few hundred. I’d gladly part with the money if it means this girl behaves and gets through school. No question.

And if it means she’s not making plans to go to Sin City, I’ll buy her a first class plane ticket and fly her there.

“All right, Maggie. I’ll make that deal with you.”

She blinks and her lips part with surprise. “You will?”

“I will. But I’ll be keeping an eye on you. I want you to walk the straight and narrow. No partying. No drugs-”

Her eyes widen. “I’ve never done drugs in my life.”

“Glad to hear it. You still need to listen up.”

Pursing her lips, she glares at me.

“I mean it. Wes and Jane won’t know what to do if you mess up, but I will and I’ll be watching.”

A flash of fear lights her eyes. They water and her stony expression softens into one that’s fragile. I don’t care if she starts weeping right here in front of everyone. I’m not kidding. At all. And the sooner she gets that through her head, the better.

“Got it?” I ask.

Jane steps out of the back door. “Maggie, can you help me with tea and lemonade?”

“I’ll be right in,” she calls. Turning back to me speaks in a softened tone. “From what I’ve heard, you’re not exactly getting awards for citizenship. Wes says you drink and brawl and have a different girl every week.”

“Yeah, well I’m not the one who needs a bus ticket. Plus, I’m an adult, not a ward of the state. You want to argue with me some more?”

She hears the threat behind my words and retreats a step. “You can watch all you want. I’ll graduate in May. With flying colors.”

“Good. That’s what I want to hear. Go help Jane.”

With a huff, she turns and heads back into the house. I wait to see if she’s going to slam the door, but she doesn’t. Instead she gives me a dirty look over her shoulder before going inside.