she held up a hand to stop him, so he quieted down and listened “—I do see a direct link between the game and how things settled out here with the Shaw side of the equation. If those guys had raised families here, the makeup of the town would be entirely different. How do you know all this when you declared baseball off-limits eight years ago?”
“Coach Randolph.”
The mention of the esteemed coach’s name softened her expression. “I haven’t seen him since I’ve been back. How is he, Jack?”
“He’s all right. The senior league had a bunch of away games this past week, so he’s been gone most nights. He lost his wife to cancer about the same time my mom died. The kind of thing that pulls folks together around here.”
“Bound in grief.” She thought for a few seconds before accepting. “I will help you, but on one condition.”
“And that is?”
“Strictly business. No flirting, hand-holding or long, sweet looks allowed. Got it?”
“I understand. Let’s shake on it.”
Doubt clouded her expression as she reached out her hand, and he could tell the minute their fingers touched...clasped...that she was in over her head and knew it. He leaned down, easing the height difference between them and kept his voice soft. “Mind, Liv, I didn’t say I agreed to your terms. I said I understood them. That’s a whole other ball game.”
“I—”
He left her sputtering as he turned to cross the street. “I’ll come by tonight and we’ll go over the plans, okay? Probably close to seven-thirty by the time I’m done working.”
He didn’t give her the opportunity to protest unless she chased him down, and he’d known Liv Franklin a long time. She wasn’t the guy-chasing, make-a-scene type. But she’d be prepared to give him an earful tonight, and knowing that made him look forward to hurrying the day along.
* * *
He grabbed a bouquet of wildflowers from one of the upland meadows just before six o’clock. He could have stopped at the florist nook tucked inside the Middletons’ grocery store. But if Rosemary Middleton saw him buying flowers after talking to Liv on Main Street, the entire town would be making wedding plans by sundown.
He didn’t need that. Neither did Liv. But the thought of sitting side by side with her tonight, setting this baseball plan in motion...?
That notion had lightened his steps all day. When a bossy cow pushed her bovine friend into the electric-fence wire and knocked the system out, he fixed it.
When the radio offered a country tune laden with angst and dismay, he reached right over and turned it off. The ensuing silence was better than the twanging lament on life and love.
And when his father reminded him that the horse auction was coming up, his first thought went to Liv, wondering if she’d like to ride along with him to Three Forks and see what was available. The Double M was in the market for a couple of new mounts. They could grab food in town, then trailer the horses back home, together.
Shouldn’t you see how tonight goes first?
He should, Jack admitted once he’d cleaned up and headed for Old Trail Road. This evening’s session might be a bust. But even if it was, he had tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that, because Liv said she was going to be in town for a while.
Which meant he’d have more time than he probably deserved, but as he steered the truck up and off the ranch property with a bouquet of yellow and purple wildflowers by his side, he figured a guy had to start making amends somewhere. This seemed as good a chance as any.
Jack rethought the whole flower thing when he spotted Dave Franklin coming out of his wood shop holding a high-torque nail gun. Not that he thought Liv’s father would actually shoot him full of metal brads—
He’d had plenty of opportunities these past years if that was Dave’s intent.
On the other hand, Liv had been living hours away in Helena, and married.
Now things had changed and even the nicest father could be stretched too far when his daughter’s husband leaves her for another woman. In any case, he left the flowers sitting on the front seat of the pickup.
“Mr. Franklin?”
“Jack.”
No welcome, but no animosity, either. Jack counted that as a plus and nodded toward the house. “Liv and I are going to work together on the Old-timers’ Baseball Game scheduled for the end of the month. I hope that’s all right?”
“You asking permission?”
For a split second Jack thought he glimpsed a sheen of humor in the older man’s eye, but when Dave faced him square, he saw nothing but calm, steady interest. “Do I need to?”
Dave sighed, glanced skyward, then drew his attention back to Jack. His face said Jack should ask permission and beg forgiveness, but his voice said something else. “No. But think hard, Jack. Real hard. You get my drift?”
He did, and couldn’t disagree. “I do, sir.”
“Dad? Jack?” Livvie stepped onto the porch, and when she did, the melon-rinsed tones of the westward arching sun faded, she was that pretty. “You giving him the third degree, Dad?”
“The temptation’s mighty strong, Liv.”
“But?” She met her father’s gaze with a look that coached his next reply.
“You’re old enough to take care of yourself and are inclined to do just that.”
Liv smiled as she came down the stairs, slipped an arm around her father’s waist and hugged him. “Well said.”
“Since you told me what to say, that’s no surprise. I’ve lived with your mother for nearly forty years. If nothing else, I’ve learned how to follow directions.” Humor marked Dave’s face for real this time. It was clear he enjoyed having Livvie back home, but equally clear he didn’t want her hurt again.
Neither did Jack, and the thought of flirting with a woman who might still love her ex-husband—a conniving cheat who didn’t deserve an amazing woman like Olivia Franklin in the first place—helped keep things in perspective. “I brought some notes you might be able to use for the history thing.”
Liv took the sheaf of paper from Jack’s hand. For just a moment their fingers grazed, barely a touch, but enough to make Jack long to take her hand in his. Hold it snug and chat about things that would keep her smile firmly in place.
That’s what had been missing last night, he realized. Liv’s smile, broad and sweet. Inviting. Her contagious laugh, the kind that made heads turn and folks join in for no particular reason.
Her smile today said she was doing all right, but a woman like Liv should never be doing just all right. She should be happy, joyous and cheerful. The way she
