“Why don’t you push the issue?”

  “Because I’m not sure he’ll be able to find something better around here. There aren’t many options for a computer programmer in such a small town.”

  “Have you thought about moving to L.A. to be with him?” Gabe asked.

  “I’ve mentioned it, but he won’t even entertain the idea. He says he doesn’t want to be responsible for taking me and the kids away from our friends and family.”

  “Well, if it’s about money, Reenie—”

  She held up her hand. “Don’t even offer, Gabe. We won’t let you support us. We have too much self-respect for that.” Squaring her shoulders, she slipped back into her tougher self. “I’m just saying that marriage can be difficult and…and maybe you should think about that and let bygones be bygones with Dad. We don’t know what he was going through at the time he had the affair. At least he was always there for us. I’ve never doubted his love for us. Have you?”

  Gabe’s problem with his father wasn’t about love; it was about hypocrisy. But maybe Reenie was right. Gabe had never been married, didn’t know how difficult it could be. Look at Reenie. His sister usually had an answer to everything, and a clear path before her, but even she seemed a little lost right now.

  “I’ll try,” he said.

  “Will you come to dinner next Sunday? I know it’d mean a lot to him. He hardly said a word when I was there today. He just ate quietly and kept looking at your empty chair.”

  Gabe gazed at his dog, who sat watching them both, tail thumping the floor. Dinner at his folks’ house. Coaching for the high school. Sleeping with Hannah. His life was getting far too complicated. “I’ll think about it.”

  This response must’ve pleased her because she put a hand on his arm. For a moment, he thought she was going to hug him and actually hoped she would. She seemed so small, even defenseless for a change.

  But she didn’t. Instead, she gave him a brief smile and slipped out.

  Gabe whistled for Lazarus not to follow her, then watched from the porch as she walked to her car. “Call me if you need anything,” he hollered. “I don’t like the idea of you and the kids being alone days on end.”

  She tossed him a smile. “I’m okay. Just come to dinner next Sunday. That’s all I ask.” She got in the car and rolled down her window. “You can bring Hannah, if you want.”

  “Thanks,” he said dryly, but he was fairly certain Hannah wouldn’t want to give folks anything more to talk about. I don’t plan on introducing another man into my family life…

  As his sister drove away, the phone rang, jerking him away from his thoughts. He wondered if it might be Hannah, wanting to know why he’d bought condoms at Finley’s. And why he’d then announced to the woman with the biggest mouth in town that he planned to use the whole box.

  He should’ve said no to Mike when his best friend appeared that day, pleading for Gabe to take over the Spartans. This all stemmed from that one small concession….

  “Come on, boy,” he said to Lazarus and went in to answer the phone. But he didn’t immediately recognize the caller.

  “Hello, Gabe. How the hell are ya?”

  “Fine,” he replied. “Who’s this?”

  “Phil Hunt, ESPN.”

  The producer of NFL Sunday Countdown. Gabe had heard from him before. He normally cut Phil off right away, but today he was glad for the diversion. “What’s going on, Phil?”

  “I’ll tell you what’s going on. We need a color commentator, and we need one badly.”

  “I thought you already found someone.”

  “Have you watched the show lately, Gabe?”

  “No.” He typically avoided it. Hearing the hosts predict which team would win which game and listening to them discuss the players, all of whom, except for the rookies, had been Gabe’s peers, made him miss football like nothing else.

  “Why not?”

  Unless he wanted to drive himself crazy, a man on a diet didn’t hang out at a bakery. “I’ve been busy.”

  “Well, let’s just say that Norm Bolitzer has yet to overcome his stage fright. He was a great runningback—don’t get me wrong. But he’s too stiff as a color man. He’s not letting his personality come through, if you know what I mean.”

  “Does he know he’s not working out?”

  “Fortunately, he came to us before we had to go to him. He’s like you. He doesn’t need the money. When he realized he wasn’t having fun, he didn’t want to do it anymore.”

  “What makes you think I’d be any better?”

  “Are you kidding? We’ve had you on the show enough to know. You think fast and speak well in front of people. That’s what it takes.”

  “Phil—”

  “Wait a minute, Gabe. At least hear me out. This is an offer even you can’t refuse.”

  Gabe opened his mouth to say there wasn’t enough money in the world. But Phil’s call had come at an interesting time—right when he was beginning to realize that he couldn’t put his life on hold any longer. He had to start living again, either in Dundee or somewhere else. And in Dundee, there was no “start slow, gather speed” option. There was Blaine and the trouble he was causing with the team. Hannah and the fact that he’d managed to land her exactly where she didn’t want to be—in the thick of town gossip. Reenie and the strain between her and Keith, and finally, his relationship with his father. He couldn’t stall Reenie indefinitely. If he stayed, he’d have to reconcile with his father. It wouldn’t be more than a few more weeks before he’d be sitting at Sunday dinner.

  He wasn’t ready, he decided. He’d only just begun to accept the fact that he’d never walk again, that the short window of opportunity for a full recovery had already disappeared. Maybe New York would provide him with a transition period—a year or two to ease into his new reality.

  “Gabe? Are you still there?” Phil asked when he finally stopped for breath. He’d been reeling off details of a compensation package, but Gabe hadn’t been listening carefully.

  “I’m here,” he said.

  “Impressive, huh? What do you say? Will you come to New York for the season?”

  New York. The Big Apple. It was so different from Dundee. But if he couldn’t gain the anonymity he craved at home, he might as well go public in a big way, see if he could develop a career that might be half as fulfilling as the one he’d lost. He’d be stupid not to check it out, wouldn’t he?

  “I’ll give it a try,” he heard himself say.

  “What? You’ll do it?” The squeak in Phil Hunt’s voice gave away the fact that he hadn’t really expected to meet with success.

  “Why not?” Gabe said.

  “When can you come?”

  Gabe glanced over at Lazarus. The dog had gone to lie down on his favorite rug in front of the fireplace. When he realized he had Gabe’s attention, he cocked his head, and his expression seemed to say, “No way. Don’t go.”

  But Lazarus was just a dog. Maybe a dog wouldn’t like the big city as well as the mountains, but Gabe had to find himself again, figure out where he really belonged now that football was no longer an option. “When would you like me?” he said into the phone.

  “Yesterday.”

  Gabe thought of the game on Friday. “I can’t fly out until Saturday.”

  “That’ll work. We’ll make it work. I’ll have my secretary schedule your flight and get back to you.”

  “And I’ll probably have to be here during the week for awhile, until I can find someone to take over the high school team I’m coaching.” Gabe hated to leave the Spartans, but he figured it was better to do it now, before the season progressed any further.

  “Don’t you worry about that. We’ll replace you with the best coach Dundee has ever seen. We’ll fly him there and pay him enough that he won’t mind staying through the season. Everyone will be happy.”

  Even with their connections and money, Gabe doubted ESPN could find a better coach than Mike’s father had been. But they could certainly come up with someone who had a hell of a lot more experience than Gabe did, which would solve everything.

  “I’d want to meet him before he officially takes over.”

  “Done.”

  “Fine,” Gabe said and hung up. Soon the Deborah Wheelers and the Melvin Blaines of Dundee would be too far away to have the slightest impact on his life, he told himself. He’d be raking in millions once again. He’d have a high-profile job that would put his mug on TV and maybe even on the cover of a few magazines. Certainly that was a semblance of what he’d lost, wasn’t it?

  No, a voice in his head whispered. He could deal with Melvin Blaine and Deborah Wheeler. Compared to the weightier issues he faced, they were minor irritants. And the money and fame had never meant much to him. It was the accomplishment. It was about being the best.

  But he was broken now. He didn’t know what his life was about, what did matter to him. So he blocked out the nagging feeling that he was making a mistake. It was time to force a change.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  THE NEXT FEW DAYS DRAGGED by like the slow drip of a faucet, maddeningly repetitive yet inexorable. Because of the gossip and the constant threat of Kenny or Brent overhearing it, Hannah felt a mounting tension. But she went about her business, ignoring the murmuring that seemed to accompany her wherever she went. She heard Marge whisper about her when she went to Finley’s Grocery to pick up some milk—Can you believe Deborah saw… Marge’s voice lowered at that point, but Hannah knew she was saying that Deborah had seen her half-naked—or fully naked as the story was now going—in Gabe’s yard.

  Shirley’s grin when Hannah stopped to buy gas indicated she’d heard the news, too. Even Lula and Evelyn Bell, who suddenly appeared at her door to pick up the pictures they’d let languish in her studio for three weeks, made a reference to Gabe. They said they were willing to bet a hundred bucks that, crippled or not, he was better in bed than their own husbands, then giggled behind their hands when Hannah refused to comment.

  Although the details were becoming exaggerated, Hannah figured the furor would die down much sooner if she didn’t respond. She definitely wanted life to return to normal before Russ had anything more to say about Gabe, or before her boys caught on to what was happening around them. Fortunately, Kenny seemed preoccupied with his own life.

  Four days later, she thought there might still be a chance the uproar would simply fade away, like the bruise on her face, which was turning yellow. But she was beginning to fear that the desire to be with Gabe again would never disappear. He’d called her Sunday night to tell her what she already knew, that their little secret was no longer a secret, but they hadn’t talked long. The conversation had been stilted, full of pauses that indicated too many things were being left unsaid. They’d finished with a quick agreement to suspend their dinner arrangement—even though Gabe’s chair already sat on her porch, marking her house like a giant scarlet letter.

  By Thursday Hannah felt as if she’d been walking a tightrope all week. Fortunately, as far as she knew, she still had several things in her favor. Her boys continued to be oblivious to the subtle changes around them. Owing, no doubt, to the fact that it had never happened before, everyone seemed to accept without question her “I ran into the door” explanation for her bruised lip and face. She’d filed a police report, but she hadn’t pressed charges. Guilt for what Russ had done seemed to be working well enough to keep him away. And she’d managed, despite unrelenting temptation, not to call Gabe.

  So far her luck seemed to be holding. But she couldn’t imagine that her errand this morning would help matters. The guy who was in charge of the yearbook had called her twice this week, asking for the photographs she was supposed to have delivered last Monday. She had to finish them up right away, which meant she had to visit Gabe’s cabin and photograph the man she undressed in her mind every time she closed her eyes.

  “Should be fun,” she muttered sarcastically, wondering how her innocent, well-meaning plan to get Gabe back into circulation could have dragged her into such a tailspin.

  “Did you say something, Mom?”

  Hannah hadn’t realized that Kenny was within hearing distance. “No, nothing important,” she said, packing up her camera bag.

  He gathered his backpack from the kitchen table. She was planning to drop both boys off at school on her way. “Do we have to go to Dad’s this weekend?” he asked.

  “You don’t want to?”

  A quick shake of his head answered that question.

  “I haven’t heard from your father in a few days, but…I’ll call him after school and find out what his plans are.”

  “Okay.”

  Hannah hollered for Brent to hurry, then put the bag with her camera and film over her shoulder and held the front open.

  “You look nice,” Kenny said as he passed her.

  She’d dressed up in a skirt and blouse. “Thanks.”

  “You’re going out on location today?”

  Brent finally came running down the hall. Obviously, he’d attempted to wet his hair down, but he hadn’t bothered with a comb. Hannah did her best to improve the situation with her fingers but didn’t have time to do much more.

  “I have to finish taking the football pictures,” she told Kenny as she locked the door.

  “Didn’t you already finish?”

  Her heels clicked on the cement as she hurried down the walkway. “Not with Coach Holbrook. I’m driving out to his cabin this morning.”

  Brent shot her a grin, which she caught out of the corner of her eye just before she opened the door. “What?”

  “Are you gonna kiss him, Mommy?” he asked.

  Hannah’s heart jumped into her throat as Kenny’s gaze flew first to her, then to his brother. “What are you talking about, dweeb?” he said.

  Refusing to be intimidated, Brent glared up at him. “Coach Holbrook is Mommy’s boyfriend.”

  “No, he’s not,” Kenny said, but he didn’t sound very certain and immediately looked to her for confirmation.

  Hannah had frozen at Brent’s question. “Who told you that, Brent?”

  “I heard my teacher talking to Lindsay’s mom about it. She said you were the luckiest woman in the world to be with Gabe Holbrook.”

  Before Hannah could respond, Kenny spoke up. “You’re not seeing Coach Holbrook, are you, Mom?”

  Hannah didn’t know what to say. She’d hoped her boys would remain oblivious, but now that they’d clued in, she wanted to be as honest with them as possible. “I like him,” she admitted. “I like him a lot.”

  Kenny’s expression grew guarded. “That T-shirt the other night…”

  Panic crawled a little higher in Hannah’s throat. “Is his,” she admitted. He—” here she decided to fudge “—he loaned it to me so I wouldn’t get my blouse dirty while we played with Lazarus in his backyard.”

  Letting go of the car door he hadn’t opened yet, Kenny hiked his backpack a little higher. “But you’re not…a couple or anything.”

  “No. I…we went out Friday night and spent the afternoon together on Saturday, that’s all.”

  Kenny turned to glance at the porch. “That’s why he brought that chair and those flowers. He likes you, too.”

  “I don’t think he likes me that much,” Hannah said, putting her bag in the car.

  For a moment, Kenny seemed deep in thought. “So, if he thought I was connected to something bad—”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked.

  “I’m saying it probably wouldn’t be good for you if Coach decided he didn’t like me.”

  They were going to be late, but she didn’t want to rush this. “There’s no reason he wouldn’t like you. You’re not involved in anything you shouldn’t be, are you?”

  “No, but—”

  “Then don’t worry. Gabe and I are only friends. I’m not really his type.”

  The frown didn’t completely disappear from Kenny’s face but, checking his watch, he got in. “Why not?”

  Hannah laughed self-consciously as she slid behind the wheel. “He’s sort of a confirmed bachelor. And, as one of the greatest quarterbacks who ever lived, he’s out of my league, wouldn’t you say?” She could have added that the accident would most likely become an issue at some point. As early as their first argument, accusations over what she’d done to him would surely come up. But she decided to keep it simple.

  Kenny looked directly at her. “No one’s out of your league, Mom.”

  Touched by the conviction in his voice, Hannah reached across the seat to squeeze his arm. “Thanks, honey.”

  “If you marry him, maybe he’ll share Lazarus with me!” Brent said, piping up from the back seat.

  Hannah smiled as she started the engine. Somehow she’d thought it’d be difficult for her children to imagine their mother with a man other than their father, but Brent certainly didn’t seem to object to the idea of her being with Gabe. Kenny was another story. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He seemed sort of…brooding.

  “I told you, Coach Holbrook and I are only friends,” she said, backing into the street. “So don’t make any plans to take over his dog.”

  “I’ll share my room with Lazarus,” Brent went on, as if she hadn’t spoken. “He can even sleep with me. It’ll be too crowded in your room, what with Coach Holbrook and his wheelchair and all of his clothes in there.” He rubbed his hands in excitement. “Just wait till I tell the kids at school that I’m going to have Coach Holbrook’s dog!”

  Kenny turned in his seat. “Don’t mention Mom and Coach Holbrook to anyone.”

  “Why not?”

  “You have to give them some time to work things out.”

  “I don’t think an eternity would help,” Hannah said flippantly as they left their little neighborhood. “There’s nothing to work out.”

  Kenny turned to look at her. “Don’t underestimate Coach Holbrook, Mom. He’s smart, like Tuck. He’ll know what you’re worth,” he said, but he wasn’t smiling and she still couldn’t guess at his thoughts.

  * * *

  GABE HAD BEEN lifting weights. Hannah could see that as soon as he opened the door. He wore fingerless gloves, a pair of gym shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt. Sweat glistened on his smooth skin and, as usual, Lazarus was right beside him.