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“I guess.” The breeze blew the leaves in a way that shifted the shadows on Keely’s face, making her expression harder to read.
“Last spring, before I got the call-up, I played a game in San Antonio.” His brother, Cal, had come with Josie, and his father had hired a mid-sized bus to bring locals from Last Stand as a group to the field. “Were you there?”
He’d heard from his friends in town that she was going to be there. He’d even thought he’d caught sight of her in the stands after the game, but whatever blonde it had been had pivoted on her heel and disappeared in the stadium.
She hesitated.
“Yes,” she said finally, clamping her lip between her teeth for a moment before she continued. “I didn’t ride into town on the bus with everyone else, but I drove up to see the game that night.”
He waited, knowing there had to be more to the story. She’d never made any other effort to see him in the five years since they’d split up. At least not that he’d been aware of.
Nearby, a splash sounded in the creek, like a frog or fish jumping.
She smoothed her hand along the rough tree bark beside her, her gaze focused on her fingers. “I’d been having a rough week with my dad. For the most part, things have been good since he quit drinking. But he got into an argument with his sponsor in town, and of course, everyone around him thought he must be drunk. That set him off even more, and they had to call Shane Highwater—”
“Right. All the more uncomfortable.” The Highwater family owned the Last Stand Saloon and one of the sons was a cop. A great guy. But still, it had to be tough for Keely to have to deal with law enforcement.
She nodded. “And every now and then, when Last Stand feels small enough to suffocate me, I have to get out of town. If only for a few hours.”
“But I’m surprised you’d end up at the ballpark, of all places.” Especially one where he’d been playing. “I won’t deny that I was looking forward to seeing you when I heard you were going to be there.”
“Who told you?” she asked, looking up at him sharply.
“Are you kidding me? Only the whole town. Don’t even pretend you didn’t get a heads-up before I put in an appearance in your workroom that day.”
White teeth flashed in the moonlight as she smiled. “I won’t. But I’m surprised anyone knew I was at the game—” She stopped herself. “Actually, never mind. I may not have ridden the bus, but I did buy one of the game tickets through the bar where people signed up for the bus.”
“There you go, then.” He felt the urge to kiss her again for admitting she’d come to his game. For wanting to see him in the first place. “That’s life in a small town for you.”
“Most days it’s okay. Running the wildflower business has been great, and the people around here are really supportive of it.” She lowered her voice. “It’s just that every now and then I feel…judged for staying with my father. I know some people think that because he’s an alcoholic, I should just walk away until he comes to terms with that on his own.”
He couldn’t deny that he’d thought the same thing himself on occasion. He stepped closer to her, wishing he could offer some kind of comfort to this stubbornly independent woman.
“But he’s sober now, right? That’s great.” He hated to think she’d only come to San Antonio that day to escape from the grind of caregiving. “Although if he’s still getting into fights loud enough to attract the police, maybe being sober isn’t enough.”
“He’s usually very mellow now. But he always has a tough time in May near the anniversary of when Mom left.” She peered up into the night sky between the tree branches, the moonlight whitewashing everything. “We all do.”
He couldn’t keep his hands away from her now, not when the reassurance of his touch might help. He stroked along her upper arms, his fingers wrapping around her shoulders.
“It’s no wonder you don’t want to abandon your father.” He understood that better now, even though he’d been hurt by her decision not to come with him when he took a minor league contract. “He’s already dealt with one defection. Another one might make it worse.”
For a moment, the night air blew her hair across his shoulders—a sweet, phantom touch.
“He still misses her.”
“How about you?” he pressed, curious.
He regretted that he hadn’t asked those kinds of questions when they were dating. That he’d allowed himself to ignore all the signs that she’d been dealing with life issues far bigger than baseball.
“She made her decision for a life without us in it when she left.” Her voice hardened, her body tensing even as he held her. “We were camping in the Arizona desert that year, and she woke me up to say it was my job to take care of Alexis. That she was in love with some guy from two campsites over and it was her turn to find happiness.” The bitterness in her tone was unmistakable. “That helps me be okay with her absence.”
He remembered her telling him a version of that story in the past, but maybe as a younger man, he hadn’t fully grasped how devastating that had to have been for a thirteen-year-old girl. Her sister had been eleven.
“I can’t imagine how tough that must have been.” He wondered if she’d had any contact with her mother since. If any of them had. But he also didn’t want to drag her down a mental path that made her unhappy tonight.
“At the time, I don’t think I understood she meant she was leaving for good. So I was confused, but of course I told her I’d take care of Alexis. That was never in question.”
“And you’ve done that.” He’d always thought she’d been a great sibling. But at what cost to herself?
