CHAPTERFOURTEEN
By the timeRosegot to the field forThursdaynight practice, the air was thick—summer heat mingling with something heavier.TheJuneevening pressed close, sticky as molasses, and the cicadas had already struck up their ragged orchestra from the trees lining the outfield fence.Thesky was still painted with late sunlight, streaks of pink and orange bleeding into blue, but the light had a tired quality, like even the heavens were worn out.
Her players were already warming up.Usuallythat meant laughter, easy banter, a few good-natured shoves as gloves popped and balls smacked leather.Tonight, though, the sound was subdued.Voicesdropped lower, movements slowed, and eyes - too many of them - kept flicking betweenRoseand the outfield as though the girls were waiting for a storm to roll in.
Rose chalked it up to gossip fatigue.Thetown had been buzzing all week, her name bouncing around diner booths and church foyers like a pinball nobody could stop.Apparently, every waitress and cousin-twice-removed had a hot opinion on whoRoseMcAllisterought to love, forgive, or kick to the curb.Shewasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or scream about it.
Glancing around the field, she didn’t seeAcen.Reliefwashed through her, quick and guilty.Good.Hewas giving her time, the space she’d asked for without ever saying it out loud.Thetruth he’d dropped in her lap onTuesdayhad been heavy enough to bruise.Shestill felt the ache of it, like she’d been carrying a weighted bat around since the moment he said it:Ididn’t thinkIwas worth fighting for.
AndLordhelp her, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.
But town gossip and news she hadn’t wanted to hear couldn’t be allowed to interfere with their regional championship.She’dtalk toAcentomorrow.Tellhim she wanted to shelve any conversation about the two of them until after the tournament season.Shehad her pride.Lordknew that at times that pride had been the only thing that kept her going over the years, but the team could use his extra edge and experience to put them over the top and get the trophy this year.Shejust had to figure out a way to keep all the other distractions out of her mind until then.
She blew out a breath and forced her focus to the field.Clipboardtucked under her arm; she started setting up the batting drills.Routinehelped.Tossballs in the bucket.Chalka new line in the dirt.Straightenthe net.RemindTashashe needed to keep her knees bent.Allthe little pieces that made sense when nothing else did.
She was halfway through whenDanijogged over.Thegirl’s ponytail bounced like it was wired, nervous energy practically sparking off her.Herglove was tucked under one arm, but she fidgeted with the strap as if she couldn’t decide whether to hold it or drop it.
“You okay?”Roseasked, keeping her voice calm.
Dani bit her lip.“Um.Thatdepends.”
“On what?”
“On how mad you’re gonna be thatIdidn’t warn you sooner.”
Rose’s eyes narrowed, clipboard shifting against her chest.“Warnme about?—?”
“Hey, stranger.”
The voice came from behind her.
Rose froze.Herbreath stopped short, the air in her lungs turned thick as syrup.Thatvoice hadn’t changed in twenty years.Smoky.Sweet.Practiced, the kind of tone meant to disarm, to charm, to cover sharp edges.
Slowly, because she already knew,Roseturned.
There stoodBrianaLewis.
Time hadn’t softened her.Ifanything, it had carved her sharper.Herhoney-blonde hair, once teased and sprayed into whatever style was in vogue atPickwickHigh, was now tucked neatly under a designer ball cap that absolutely did not belong at a rec-league practice.Herjeans hugged too tight, her top looked catalog-fresh, and her sneakers were white in a way no shoes worn to a dusty field had any right to be.Shedidn’t fit the setting, butBrianahad always been like that—like she was auditioning for some life just out of reach.
Her smile, though, was the same.Tightas a fishing line right before it snapped.
“What are you doing here?”Roseasked, voice flat.
“I heard you were coaching.”Brianaswept a hand toward the girls on the field.“ThoughtI’dswing by, see the legendaryPickwickPirateQueensin action.”
Rose stared at her.“Andyou just happened to be back in town after two decades?”
“Property stuff, remote job, kind of a break to reset my life.”Brianagave a casual shrug, too studied to be natural.“Mydad left me the oldLewisplace.FiguredI’dcheck in, clean it out, maybe fix it up.”
Rose crossed her arms, the clipboard pressed to her ribs like armor.“Andof all the places you could ‘check in,’ you landed here?”
Briana’s smile faltered.Justa flicker, butRosecaught it.“Look,Rose.Iknow we didn’t part on the best of terms.”
“You mean when you made out with my boyfriend behind the gym and told him my brother didn’t want him to be with me?”
Gasps rippled from the players who’d been eavesdropping, though none of them looked surprised.Pickwickloved its old stories, and this one had been whispered like scripture over a lot of years.
Briana’s cheeks flushed, but she lifted her chin.“Thatwas high school.”
