Kenny shook his head at the term “well-rounded,” but Tuck’s uniqueness was part of the reason Kenny liked him so much. Tuck had things to say that really mattered. And despite his small size, he had more guts than anyone Kenny had ever met. Kenny would never forget seeing Tuck stand up to his father when Mr. Mills was hitting his wife. The boys had been only twelve years old at the time. Tuck and his mom had gotten pummeled pretty good before Kenny could bring help, but he’d calmly wiped away the blood on his mouth, taped his broken glasses back together and explained that some people weren’t emotionally mature enough to deal with their inadequacies in an effective way.

  Fortunately, Mr. Mills was gone now. No one knew where. Tuck and his mother had had to sell their house in Kenny’s neighborhood and move across town into a small duplex. But at least no one was beating on them anymore.

  The keys to the Mustang they’d parked a few feet away jingled as Tuck shifted position. When Kenny glanced back, he found his friend frowning and staring at the ground.

  “What is it?”

  “I was just thinking….”

  “About what?”

  “About how this is the kind of decision that can define a person for life.”

  Tuck was always saying Yoda crap like that. Half the time, Kenny didn’t know what he meant. But judging by Tuck’s somber expression, he was putting a lot of brainpower toward Kenny’s problem and, if it would bring a solution, Kenny wanted to hear about it. “How?”

  “Well, what kind of person do you want to be?”

  “I want to be a professional football player.”

  Tuck’s hazel eyes lifted to Kenny’s. “I’m talking about character traits. Do you want to have honor?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you want to earn what you get with courage and determination?”

  Kenny scowled. “Come on, Tuck. You know I do.”

  His friend draped one arm over a bony knee. “Then the answer’s simple. Be true to yourself.”

  Kenny threw a twig at him. “Damn it, Tuck. Why don’t you just tell me to use the force?”

  Predictably, Tuck didn’t duck fast enough. The twig caught in his hair, but he calmly pulled it out and tossed it aside. “That’s what it comes down to,” he said. “Either you sell out or you don’t.”

  “There are consequences. The consequences are the problem. If I don’t fall in line with Blaine, it could affect my whole career.”

  “Your whole life,” Tuck agreed.

  Kenny gaped at him. “Right. So why do you sound so excited?”

  “Don’t you get it? If you want to be the kind of man you just told me you want to be, you have to hold fast to your ideals even when it requires a sacrifice. This is an opportunity to prove yourself.”

  An opportunity? Had Tuck finally wigged out? “Prove myself to who?”

  “To the only person that really counts—you. Think of that movie we saw in English class.”

  Kenny grasped at the first one that came to mind. “All The President’s Men?”

  “A Man for All Seasons.”

  “God, you’re talking about Thomas More again.” Tuck had been going on and on about More for the past two weeks.

  “He chose to die rather than sacrifice his ideals.”

  “Which didn’t make his wife and children very happy,” Kenny pointed out.

  “If he would’ve given in, I don’t think anyone would’ve blamed him. But there wouldn’t have been anything remarkable about it, either.”

  Kenny tossed another rock into the lake, creating a big splash because he hadn’t bothered to throw it at a slant. “No one will be making a movie about this, Tuck. Especially when I get booted off the team.”

  Tuck’s voice was soft when he responded. “If you get booted off for doing the right thing, it’ll be something you can proud of whether they make a movie out of it or not.”

  * * *

  HANNAH SAT at her desk, staring at the phone. She was supposed to be framing some portraits that had just come in, but the hot summer sun streaming through her office window was making her sluggish. And she couldn’t quit thinking about Kenny…and Gabe. She wanted to follow Mike’s lead and draw Gabe out of his cabin once in awhile. But how?

  Tapping her fingernails on her blotter, she decided her best chance would be to get him dating and socializing again. Now all she needed was the right woman. Dundee wasn’t exactly New York City or Los Angeles, but it had several single women. Who was available, attractive and fun enough to appeal to him?

  An image of Ashleigh Evans immediately popped into Hannah’s mind. Ashleigh was perfect. She possessed a body that rivaled Pamela Anderson’s, so she had a good chance of enticing an ex-football player, who’d been out of circulation far too long, into having dinner with her once or twice. And she seemed to like everyone without getting too attached, so she was unlikely to get hurt. Besides, Ashleigh cut hair for a living, which gave Hannah a good excuse to bring her out to Gabe’s cabin.

  Smiling, she looked up the number and dialed.

  Someone else answered, probably her roommate. “Is Ashleigh there?” Hannah asked.

  “Just a minute.”

  Despite the hip-hop music playing in the background, Hannah could hear Ashleigh talking and laughing in the room before finally coming to the phone. “Hello?”

  Hannah started doodling on a sticky pad. “Ashleigh?”

  “Yes?”

  “This is Hannah Price.”

  “Hi, Hannah. What’s up?”

  “I’m calling to see if you might be available to go to Gabe Holbrook’s cabin with me tomorrow night.”

  There was a surprised silence, then, “You’re going to Gabe Holbrook’s cabin?”

  Hannah ignored the unspoken “But he hardly talks to anyone, and you’re the one who put him in that wheelchair.” “He’s hired me to make him a few meals now that he’s busy coaching,” she said, to keep things simple.

  Ashleigh hesitated as she absorbed the news, then continued hopefully, “And he asked you to bring me along?”

  Hannah definitely didn’t want to mislead Ashleigh. She wasn’t trying to get Gabe into a steamy physical relationship; she only wanted to generate enough interest to coax him back to a more normal life. “No, I just thought it would be nice. He needs a haircut.”

  “Oh, for a haircut. Now I get it. I mean, he’s gorgeous, but he’s never been particularly friendly to me. Usually, he has Rebecca cut his hair and barely even looks at me.”

  Hannah heard the deflation in her voice and struggled to steer Ashleigh somewhere in the middle of “no hope there” and “hot pursuit.” “He doesn’t look at anyone these days, Ash. But he needs friends. Distractions. Social engagements. And you’re pretty connected to the social scene around here, right?”

  “I guess. And I’d be willing to help him. But he doesn’t give anyone anything to hang on to, you know? He’s not…responsive.”

  “Maybe, for right now, we need to lower our expectations,” she said. “He needs people who are fun and outgoing. We’ve all stood back, sort of shocked and uncomfortable with what happened to him. Especially me, since I caused the whole thing. But I think it’s time to quit apologizing and feeling bad and waiting for him to recover. I think it’s time to be proactive.”

  “I like that,” Ashleigh said. “Proactive. Sounds modern and bold.”

  “Exactly. We’re going to help him.”

  Ashleigh didn’t even hesitate. “Okay. When will you pick me up?”

  Hannah made a mental note to add the wine she’d bought to tomorrow’s dinner. “Five-thirty. We’ll see you then, okay?”

  “Hannah?” Ashleigh said, catching her before she could hang up.

  “What?”

  “Do you think…”

  “What?” Hannah prompted when her words fell off.

  “Do you think Gabe can still make love?”

  The thought that she wouldn’t mind finding out firsthand flitted through Hannah’s mind, but she quickly squashed it. It had been six years since she’d slept with Russ, with anyone. She was beginning to feel old already. But she had her boys to think about. The risks of getting involved with another man were too great. If she wound up pregnant or made another bad decision…

  “I don’t know,” she said, but she could have added that one night, not long after the accident, she’d actually searched the Internet and learned that a male’s ability to have an erection depended on the level of the spinal cord injury. She’d also learned that the nerves that controlled an erection are located in the sacral segments. According to the newspapers and talk around town, Gabe’s spine wasn’t completely severed, and his injury was low enough that it was possible he could make love the same way as other men. But there was also the chance he couldn’t. “We’re not shooting for that level of intimacy, Ashleigh.”

  “I was just wondering.”

  “Well, if it ever comes to that, he’s got plenty of parts that do work, and work well. I’m sure he can figure out how to use them.”

  Ashleigh giggled. “I guess that’s true, huh?”

  Hannah pictured the beautiful blondes she’d seen on Gabe’s arm in the past and wondered how he’d react to Ashleigh. “Don’t forget your clippers, okay?”

  Gabe’s hair actually looked pretty good long. Hannah wouldn’t have minded photographing him just the way he was. But leaving him as he was didn’t mesh with her new plan. Maybe she couldn’t help him walk again, or return to the NFL, but she was going to do her damnedest to see him live a happier life.

  “This is going to be great,” Ashleigh said. “I love a challenge.”

  Hannah felt the same excitement. She only hoped they’d be as optimistic tomorrow night. It wasn’t going to be easy to break through Gabe’s defenses.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE DINNER HANNAH HAD COOKED for him looked delicious. Gabe heated it up early, around four o’clock, and sat down to watch the various tapes Owens had given him. He had several pieces of furniture in different stages of completion, but the hobby that had diverted him since the accident didn’t appeal to him half as much as studying clips of the teams the Spartans would play this year. Maybe he’d taken on coaching a little grudgingly, but he was already beginning to feel exhilarated by the challenge. He loved the strategy and skill involved in football. And he wanted to win. Which made him particularly interested in the footage of Oakridge High’s last season. The Wildcats had been Dundee High’s rivals for as long as Gabe could remember, and the Spartans were going to have to play them first this year.

  He lowered his gaze to the food on his plate and couldn’t help smiling. He’d been disgruntled about coaching and letting Hannah cook for him, but he didn’t regret either right now. Her food tasted better than anything he’d had in a long time—since he’d stopped visiting his parents.

  Turning his attention back to the television, he saw senior Val Newcomber, quarterback for the Wildcats, fill the screen. Because Val had already played two years on varsity, Gabe knew there’d be plenty of tape on him.

  For the next twenty minutes, he examined the way the Wildcats ran their offense, then checked the details he’d jotted down while speaking to Owens on the phone earlier. Owens had said—and Gabe could see—that Newcomber had a strong arm. The boy was also capable of stunning accuracy. But he was more of a Dan Marino than a Steve Young. He couldn’t scramble if the pocket began to collapse, and he didn’t make the best decisions under pressure….

  So the Spartans would blitz often and hard, Gabe decided. If they could penetrate the Wildcats’ offensive line at least once every set of downs, maybe get a few sacks, they could rattle Newcomber, make him hear footsteps even when there weren’t any coming. With so much pressure on their quarterback, the Wildcats would have to go to their running game, which would be easier to defend against because they didn’t have much of a runningback.

  Gabe rubbed the stubble on his chin as he watched another impressive pass. The only other way to compensate for Newcomber would be to cover the Wildcats’ receivers and try to pick off a few passes. Interceptions could turn a game around quicker than anything. But—he used his remote to rewind the tape so he could take another look at a leaping catch by Wildcats’ receiver Luke Friedman—their receivers had too much speed. The Spartans didn’t have what it’d take to shut them down. Not from what Gabe had seen of his defensive backs. He was better off working with the weak side defensive end—

  The telephone rang. Gabe gave it a quick, impatient glance. He didn’t want to be disturbed right now. But he thought Mike might be trying to reach him, and consoled himself with the fact that they could strategize together.

  Pausing the tape, he rolled over to the counter. “Hello?”

  “Hi, son.”

  His father. Gabe dropped his head in one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. He would have been more careful about snatching up the handset if he’d anticipated a call from Garth. Several months ago, Garth had promised to give Gabe time to adjust to the recent changes in their family. Other than a few messages relayed through his mother, he’d respected that promise. Until now.

  “Sir.”

  His father hesitated, as if disappointed by Gabe’s formality. But, a heartbeat later, he recovered and barreled into a conversation. “Your mother told me the good news.”

  “What good news?”

  “That you’re coaching the Spartans.”

  Since the accident, Gabe had heard a great deal of false cheer in his father’s voice. After the pride that had always been there before, he hated it. But today Garth seemed genuinely pleased.

  “It’s only for one season,” Gabe said.

  His father didn’t let that dampen his enthusiasm. “So what’s the team like this year? You got any talent to work with?”

  In the past, Gabe would have told Garth about Kenny Price’s raw ability. He would’ve mentioned that they had a strong offensive line, not much in the way of defensive backs, a runningback that could be faster with some practice, and a few good receivers. But he and his father weren’t close anymore. After what Gabe had learned nearly a year ago, he didn’t even want to talk to Garth. “A little.”

  At his short, abrupt answer, an awkward silence ensued.

  “Gabe, please,” his father said at last. “Isn’t there some way we can put the past behind us?”

  “The past, Dad? The past is now part of the present and the future, isn’t it? I take the chance of running into Lucky every time I drive into town. Through her, I have a new niece. She’s also married to my best friend. How do I put that behind me?”

  “Accept her and adjust!”

  Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. “I prefer to mind my own business and stay away from the mess you’ve created.”

  “Come on, Gabe.”

  “It’s my problem, Dad,” he said. “Forget about it.”

  “I can’t forget about it. You’re still angry.”

  His father had that right. Gabe knew he’d probably be angry for the rest of his days—angry with Russ for sending Hannah into such a panic the night she crashed into him, angry at Hannah for passing that damn truck on a curve in a snowstorm, angry with his father for hiding his secret for so long then letting it out when Gabe needed him most. Gabe had gone from MVP of the NFL to a crippled man living in a cabin; his father had gone from someone who’d been admired and respected by the whole community to just another schmuck who’d cheated on his family.

  “Can’t you forgive me?” Garth asked.

  “I forgive you,” Gabe said immediately. He had no desire to hurt his father. But his trust was destroyed and he no longer had anything to give. He was struggling too hard to hang on to the hope that he’d walk again, when he’d seen so little progress over the past three years.

  “Then, will you come to dinner on Sunday night?”

  Gabe envisioned sitting at the table with Reenie shooting meaningful glances his way and pointing out all the things he could still do, even in a wheelchair. His mother, at the other extreme, waiting on him hand and foot as if he could no longer do anything. His father pretending that life was good now that the family was complete again. Hell, maybe Lucky would even show up.

  The thought of facing that situation made despair inch closer—and Gabe immediately shied away. “Sorry, I’ll be busy getting ready for our first game. It’s in a little more than a week.”

  His father didn’t respond for several seconds. “I miss you,” he said at last.

  Suddenly, Gabe’s chest constricted and his eyes burned. He missed his dad, too, but he missed the Garth he used to know. He missed striding up to his sister and throwing her over his shoulder to swat her butt when she provoked him too much. He missed his mother calling to let him know when she needed something in the house repaired and his father was too busy to do it.

  He missed the world as it used be. And he didn’t know how to find his way back to the happiness he’d once known. He wasn’t even sure it was possible.

  He glanced down at his legs. “I’m afraid some things are irreversible,” he said and hung up. He refused to think any longer about his father, or Lucky, or the accident. He had things to do.

  But as Gabe rolled back to the living room, he realized he’d lost his appetite and wasn’t interested in watching tapes of high school football anymore.

  Turning off the television, he headed outside to his shop, where he blasted his stereo and poured all his energy into sanding a cedar chest. By the time he quit, it was getting dark, and he was almost too exhausted to wheel himself into the cabin.

  * * *

  THE TELEPHONE WOKE Gabe just as the sun was coming up. He squinted against the light streaming through the window above him and looked around to discover that he’d slept on the couch last night.