AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Nonsense.” She smacked the top of his hand. “Guests don’t set the table. Go outside and enjoy a little fresh air. I’ll call you when supper’s ready.”
He glanced over at Sandra, wondering if the right thing to do was to insist on helping, or doing as he was told. What he really wanted was to stay where Sandra was.
“You too.” The feisty woman waved her hand in a shooing motion at her daughter. “I don’t need a herd of people in my kitchen.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sandra responded sweetly, but behind her mother, she rolled her eyes and gestured for him to follow her.
Outside, he saw David throw a football, but didn’t make it very far. It had no spiral and Paxton wondered, had no one had ever taught David to throw? What was the deal with his father? Why wasn’t he teaching his son how to use a hammer and throw a football?
“Toss it this way, sport.”
David put all of his weight into the toss but it didn’t wind up anywhere near Paxton.
Picking up the football, Paxton held it out to David. “Here, let’s see if we can’t put a little more oomph in that throw.” Thankful he wasn’t playing with a regulation-size pigskin, Paxton helped fold David’s small fingers around the football. “If you put your fingers on the strings, and then hold it back by your ears before you throw it, the ball should spiral off of your fingers.”
David nodded at the instructions, his gaze so intent it was as if Paxton had given him the nuclear codes. The boy held the ball with his fingers on the strings and cocked back his arm. This time the ball sailed further and there was a slight wobbly spiral.
“That’s the way,” Paxton encouraged him.
Meanwhile, Sandra stood behind them clapping. “Great job, David.”
The little boy beamed at his mother and then shuffled his feet. “Do you know how to throw a baseball?”
Paxton had played all of the sports. He’d been partial to football. Played on the offensive line, subbing as quarterback for a game or two, but he liked baseball too. He patted the boy on the shoulder. “Sure do. Do you have mitts and a baseball?”
The boy lit up and raced off toward a plastic container set up against the house. He flung open the lid and pulled out the necessary items, then ran back and handed Paxton a mitt. “I hope it fits. My dad is shorter than you.”
“It’ll be fine, buddy.” No point in explaining that height had little to do with mitt size. Sort of like feet. Tall or short didn’t always play a part in shoe size.
Clearly more than a little excited, David ran to the other end of the yard.
“Let’s start closer, David. I’d rather you work on technique than distance or speed, okay?”
Nodding with that same intense look on his face, David moved closer. “Here?”
“Right there, buddy.”
David wound up and threw the ball. Better than with the football, but far enough away that Paxton had to reach out to catch it. “Not bad. Did someone teach you that?”
“Mom tried, but she throws like a girl.”
He bit back a smile. “I bet she throws pretty good.” Glancing over his shoulder at her still standing by the house watching, Sandra shrugged at him. He didn’t know how she did now as an adult, but as a kid she’d kept up with the impromptu games at the ranch.
There were a lot of things he didn’t know about the grown-up Sandra Lynn. Things he’d like to know, from her favorite color and food, to what really brought her back to Tuckers Bluff? Feeling foolish for simply staring at her, he waved at her, more delighted than he should have been when she grinned and waved back.
“Are we finished already?”
Turning back to the tossing session, David’s head was cocked as he studied Paxton. For such an energetic young boy, he sure had some grown-up intensity. “Nope. Not finished. You ready to catch one?”
“Go ahead.” David smiled.
Paxton casually tossed the ball. “What position do you want to play?”
“Shortstop.” He scooped the ball up and threw the ball back as hard as he could. “Or catcher.”
For now, he would be a little short for shortstop, but catcher would fit his size well.
“Did you play baseball?” David focused on the ball slicing through the air toward him.
