“No more apologies, understand?”
Her strict tone caught his attention. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I hereby officially resign as coach.”
“You don’t have to resign, though,” Hayden said. “I’ll hold your place until you’re ready to play and coach again.”
A pause. “I, uh, I’m not sure when that will be, so it’s best I resign. But I do have a replacement in mind.”
He wiped his face with the hand towel hanging by one of the sinks. She would probably suggest one of her Bosom Buddies, or BBs, as he’d heard them called. None of them except Erma and Myrtle were on the team, and Myrtle was still on her cruise and wouldn’t be back for a while. The BBs were excellent cheerleaders. They’d come to several practices and, of course, the first game. They always brought snacks, too, which was a bonus.
He couldn’t imagine who she had in mind. None of the women, except maybe Madge Wilson, looked like they were in good enough shape to play softball, even in a church league. “Who are you considering?”
“My granddaughter.”
Hayden froze, then picked up the phone and took it off speaker. “Are you serious?”
“Of course I am. Is there a reason why Riley can’t take my place?”
Other than her not wanting to be around me?“Uh, not off the top of my head, no. Have you run this idea past her?”
Another pause. “I’m sure she’ll want to take the position.”
Hayden paused. For the first time he heard a note of uncertainty in Erma’s voice. “You are?”
“Yes, I am sure, and I have to go. Have a nice day.”
“Erma—” She had already hung up.
He set the phone back on the vanity and blew out a breath. He wasn’t going to tell Erma no. He said he would do her a favor and he meant it. But he doubted Riley would be interested in the coaching position, and from the way her grandmother hung up on him, he was almost positive Riley had no idea she was being volunteered. He frowned.So much for keeping my distance.
Swiping his hand over the foggy mirror, he relaxed, the lines creasing his forehead disappearing in his reflection. Despite Erma’s insistence, there was no way Riley was going to agree to be his assistant.
His frown suddenly returned.Too bad.
Chapter5
Late Saturday afternoon Hayden unlocked the gate to the one and only ball field in Maple Falls. Like most of the town, the field was old and needed some TLC. When he decided to start the church softball team, he spent two entire weekends cleaning up the grounds and creating the infield, killing grass and weeds that had grown over it and building up the pitcher’s mound. Fortunately his friend Tanner Castillo helped out when he wasn’t working at the Sunshine Diner. Otherwise it would have taken Hayden much longer than two weekends to finish. The end result didn’t look great, but it was definitely an improvement and would serve its purpose.
He walked over to one of the dugouts and leaned his huge canvas bag of bats and softballs against the skinny wooden bench, dropping the other bag on the ground. His glove was lying inside the bag on top of the bats, and he picked it up, slipping his hand inside as he’d done thousands of times before. The worn leather fit him like a second skin, which it practically had been for the seven years he’d used it.
As always before practice, he walked to the mound. Common sense told him he shouldn’t since there was no reason for him to be there, but he couldn’t help himself. The moment the sole of his athletic shoe touched the hard-packed dirt, he was transported to the past, his mind and senses filled with the sights, sounds, and smells of a baseball field during a game. The murmuring of the crowd, the fans wearing their favorite player’s jersey, the scents of popcorn and beer hanging in the air. He remembered the feel of the mound beneath his feet, the excitement of staring down a batter and striking him out.
His jaw clenched and he stepped off the mound. There would be no more strikeouts, not from his arm. Now he was forced to experience the game that had meant so much to him a different way—as a spectator, or in this case, a green coach of an even greener softball team. As he stared at the spot where home plate should be, he yearned to pitch again. Sure, he could still throw a few balls overhand, but he’d never reach 70 mph, much less the 100-plus mph fastball he’d pitched in his prime. The memory brought him back to earth.
Hayden jogged back to the dugout and dropped his mitt on the bench, then dragged the other bag to the field, unzipped it, and started placing the bases around the diamond. He’d just finished straightening home plate when he heard a car pull into the gravel parking lot. When he looked over, he saw two cars right behind it—including Erma’s.
Surprised, his nerves started to jump. For once the store had been busy yesterday, and he hadn’t had time to think about Erma’s phone call—until he closed up for the night. The more he’d thought about it then, the surer he was that Riley would tell her grandmother no. But if that was the case, why was she here now? Had Erma actually convinced her to be his assistant? She must have used all her sweet-talking charm to make it happen.
Erma’s car stopped a few spaces away from Harper Wilson’s red Mercedes. When Harper got out of her car, he wasn’t surprised to see her meticulously dressed for a simple softball practice, and knowing her, every item of clothing had a designer label. The first time she showed up at the field, Hayden had been skeptical, especially seeing her perfect manicure, makeup, and brand-new expensive cleats. As it turned out, Harper had played softball when she was younger and was fairly good, not to mention extremely competitive. He chalked that up to her owning her own real estate business. She was his utility infield player, subbing when needed, and was also a backup pitcher.
Olivia Farnsworth, Bea’s grandniece, got out of the passenger side of Harper’s car. As a librarian, she couldn’t be any more different from Harper, both in looks and temperament. Olivia was petite and shy with black hair and olive skin due to her Hispanic heritage, the opposite of blond-haired, blue-eyed Harper. Olivia possessed a distinct lack of athletic ability but nevertheless put in 100percent effort, which he appreciated.
The rest of the team started to show up and make their way to the field. Tanner Castillo, who played shortstop, wore his usual Sunshine Diner baseball cap, his long ash-blond ponytail pulled through the snapback of the cap. Hayden and Tanner’s friendship had started in elementary school, and although they had gone their separate ways after high school, they picked up right where they left off when Hayden returned to Maple Falls.
The catcher, Jared Young, was the new pastor of their church and only two years older than Hayden. Anita Bedford, a waitress at the Sunshine Diner, where Tanner worked as a cook, played right field. She and Olivia took turns playing right field. The Mathis cousins, Jimmy, Jesse, and Jack, who was known as Jackie—all in their late teens and pretty good players—made up the rest of the infield. Lonnie Finch, a construction worker in his early forties, was a decent pitcher, and bringing up the rear were Junior Dobbs and Eddie Trimble, two men in their fifties who struggled to pick up ground balls due to their love of Southern cooking, not to mention their fondness for enjoying a few beers now and then. They would take Myrtle and Erma’s places in the outfield. The team was short on subs, but maybe once the season progressed, more people would be interested in joining.
Hayden smiled as he watched his eclectic team heading toward him. He’d known most of these people all his life, except for Harper, who had attended a private school in Hot Springs, and Jared, who was new to all of them. Hayden was proud of this ragtag group, despite the fact they hadn’t gelled on the playing field yet. He was confident they would, eventually.
