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Chapter 1
Jane
Late March
I slid the last long steel rack into my Sprinter van and fastened the locking mechanism before wiping away the sweat trickling down my forehead. It was late March and still cool, but loading packed trays of pastries was heavy work. The road out to the ballpark was all gravel and bumpy as hell, so making sure these treats were secure was critical. The future of my bakery rested on today’s tasting event.
I slammed the van door shut, silencing the little voice in my head telling me I didn’t deserve this. This bakery was my dream, one I’d been chasing most of my forty-six years. I had worked hard for it, and nothing was going to knock me off course.
“Ethan, are you ready?” I turned to the back door of the bakery, searching for my son and part-time helper.
“Right here, Mom.”
The involuntary shriek I let out made Ethan grin as he looked down at my upturned face. He loved sneaking up on me, not an easy feat with his tall, lanky frame. At seventeen, he was already six feet, four inches, all arms and legs, and he towered over me.
“Don’t do that, brat. Or I won’t take you to the ballpark with me.” We both knew it was an empty threat. I needed him to help me unload the van and set up my display table. My friend and assistant baker, Emily Johnson, was handling custom orders, so Ethan was helping me at the park today.
The orders Emily was working on weren’t big, but until I secured this contract, we couldn’t afford to lose any business. Besides, Ethan lived and breathed baseball. He’d walk out to the ballpark if I didn’t take him with me.
Ethan grinned and held the van keys over his head, far out of my reach. “You don’t really mean that.”
I rolled my eyes at him, mock scowling. I held my hand out, palm up.
“Fine. Now give me my keys and let’s get going. I can’t be late for this event.”
“Can I drive?” Ethan asked.
His question was one I’d heard a thousand times since he’d passed his driver’s test a year earlier, and normally it was an easy yes. Today, with the precious cargo in the van, and the bumpy gravel roads between here and the ballpark?
I bit my lip, wanting to trust him but nervous about the potential disaster to my business if something went wrong. In the end, it was the pleading in his eyes that broke me. “You can drive.”
Ethan let out a whoop and ran to the driver’s door. As I walked to the passenger side, I trailed my fingers across the logo on the side of the van, a stylized baseball with bright-red stitching and my bakery name, Batter Up!
I’d come up with the name years ago, bantering with my dad when I was working in his restaurant kitchen in junior high. Dad had been a minor league player and had infused a love of baseball in me that nothing could take away. Not even my ex-husband, former major league MVP Chad Templeton.
I’d almost gone with a different name, wondering if the play on words would make people think I was trying to cash in on Chad’s fame. But baking and baseball had been part of my entire life, and I wasn’t going to let Chad take that away from me too. I’d given up my goal of culinary school to follow Chad as he climbed through minor league ball to arrive in the big leagues, but now it was my turn. I was going to make my bakery a household name in Red Rock.
I climbed in the van, finding Ethan already buckled up and waiting impatiently for me. He watched as I buckled my own seat belt, then carefully adjusted the seat and mirrors. I smothered a smile.
Ethan was so mature. Too mature, probably. He’d taken on the role of man of the house when I divorced Chad, even though I’d done everything possible to make him and his older sister Brooke understand that they didn’t need to step up, that they could keep being kids. Now Ethan was determined to play pro baseball just like his father, and his life revolved around school, ball practice, and helping me at the bakery.
I worried sometimes that he was missing out on being a typical teenager, but he was dedicated to baseball. I understood that. I’d given up my ambitions to support Chad reaching his goals, and now that I was about to realize my dreams, I wanted Ethan to chase his too.
Ethan pulled the van out of the parking lot and turned onto the highway that would lead to the Airfield, the current home of the Fliers. The old ballpark was worn down and showing its age, and the city had invested a large sum of money into helping build a new stadium when the Fliers were promoted to the status of a Triple-A club starting this year, but it wouldn’t be ready until next season.
The North American Baseball League had announced an expansion, and Vancouver had been a dark horse candidate. In the end, they were awarded a team, and the Vancouver Vanquish was born.
As the newest NABL team, they represented the return of a second team to Canada. That meant finding a minor league club close enough to be their farm team, and Red Rock was the lucky city to be chosen.
“Did you get your travel ball schedule yet?”
Ethan played for both his high school and on a travel ball team during the spring and summer. Expensive, but it gave him a better chance to be scouted.
“Coach texted me this morning. Schedule will be out next week. He’ll email it to both of us.” Ethan never took his eyes off the road.
Highway construction near the ballpark forced Ethan onto a detour to go the final few kilometres, but he was cautious and drove slowly, making sure nothing would happen to the wide array of desserts I had created to wow the management and catering teams at the park. I had heard a rumour that a few players had arrived from spring training already, and would be dropping by the sampling event.
I’d watched some spring training games and knew some of the players and their histories. I’d been away from the baseball life for a while, but I still followed the annual draft and tried to keep track of roster moves by my favourite teams. Truth was, I might be as obsessed with baseball as Ethan was.
