saw that on her hospital unit. She’d dealt with the mercurial highs and lows of crisis pregnancy.
She’d wanted a house full of kids. She’d wanted to chase babies and toddlers and push strollers long after Tee was running and climbing and shrugging off any offers of help. Her dream had been thwarted by a felon’s bullet, but she had two beautiful children, and that was something to be grateful for.
She spotted movement on the deck. “Susie, pretend you’re looking at something.”
“Which I am, of course.” Susie picked up a book from the table as Mack came to the sliding screen door separating them from the broad wooden deck.
“How we doing in there?”
“We’ve finished the grand tour and Susie’s checking out a book I recommended.”
“Great.” He smiled through the screen at his wife. “Gabe says we’ve got about five minutes until everything’s done.”
“I’ll bring out the rest of the stuff. Susie, feel free to borrow that and tell me what you think.”
“Thank you, Corinne.”
“Tee?” Corinne called upstairs from the first floor. “Can you help me with food?” Long seconds of silence ensued before she heard Tee’s footsteps on the floor above.
Shouts from up the beach indicated the boys’ return. Corinne carried a hot potato salad out to the deck. Tee followed with a cold pasta salad, and dragged her feet every inch of the way, right up until the boys made it to the deck.
Then everything changed.
Tee raised her chin.
Her eyes sparkled.
Shoulders back, she was the epitome of charm once the deck was filled with five young baseball players.
Corinne wanted to smack a hand to her head, because if Tee was crushing on one of Callan’s friends, the result could be gut-wrenching for brother and sister.
Callan loved Tee. He’d given her that name as a toddler. She was his “Tee-Tee,” and the name stuck.
But they were stepping into uncharted waters now.
And while Corinne didn’t have to do too many weekend shifts anymore, the idea of teens with too much time on their hands was worrisome. Time alone and internet access, texting, unlimited phone use...
She wanted normal for these two, but how could she strike that balance, keep them safe and allow them to grow in current times?
“She’s got a thing for Brandon.”
Gabe’s soft voice made her turn. “You think?” Brandon was the team’s center fielder.
“Oh, yeah. She’s being subtle around him and a little too loud with the other boys, as if trying to gain his attention. And he’s oblivious.”
Corinne glanced behind her and agreed. “Can I lock her away? At least until sophomore year of college?”
He laughed softly as he removed meat from the grill. “I think that’s an excellent idea. And this road is out of the way enough that the boys won’t be visiting down here, unless they’re coming to see Callan.”
“Which they do on a regular basis.”
He exaggerated a wince. “That means team dynamics are about to change. We’ll go from total dedication to the game to split attention because of G-I-R-L-S. There goes our guaranteed spot in the state playoffs.”
She couldn’t help it. She laughed. “We’re not that bad, are we?”
“At that age?” He raised the tongs and indicated the boys and one lovestruck tween. “No contest.”
He was right. There was nothing like the bittersweet moments of young romance to mess with a kid’s head.
She dreaded it, not because she didn’t want the kids to grow up. That was normal. But the older they got, the less she could fix for them, and affairs of the heart were not easily mended.
She sighed because she knew the truth in that. Broken romances were mended only by time, faith and experience. “No one asked my opinion on this particular timeline, but if asked, I’d have put it off another year. Or two.”
“And yet, no one offers options,” Mack said as he came up alongside them. “We deal with what comes our way, the good and the bad.”
Gabe’s jaw tightened. He stared down as he flipped the meat, then piled it all onto her large platter. “I’ll put the meat on the ledge.”
He didn’t look at Mack. He didn’t look at her. He crossed the open patio overlooking the water, set the tray down and walked to the water’s edge.
Mack scrubbed a hand to his jaw, watching Gabe. Then he sighed, turned and called out to the guys. “Food’s ready!”
“Great!”
“Awesome!”
“Thanks for doing this, Mrs. G.!”
The grown-ups waited while the boys filled their plates, and when they all gravitated toward the water—and their beloved coach—the adults had a quiet patio to themselves.
Gabe stayed by the water, talking with the boys. Should she go get him? Remind him that the food was getting cold? He’d been fine, working, cooking, talking, and then...not fine.
He started their way a few minutes later.
He didn’t look at her. Didn’t look at anyone, not really. If alone in a crowd had a face, it was Gabe Cutler’s expression, right now.
“The burgers came out perfect, Gabe. Thank you for cooking them.”
“Happy to help.”
But he didn’t look happy at all. He kept his gaze averted and his shoulders square as if a wall had sprung up between him and the rest of the world.
Just as well.
Once the busyness of his move settled down, she’d keep a comfortable distance because she wasn’t a moonstruck adolescent.
She was a grown woman who’d already buried one lawman. Nothing in this world would make her take a chance on facing that a second time.
Gabe faced a new normal through his spacious lakefront picture window later that afternoon. His shaded yard tapered down to a strip of sandy beach. The dock stood to the right of the property line. Corinne’s was on the left of her line, offering a wide expanse of sweet, shallow water.
Tucker would love living here.
He’d given his trusty friend a tour of the yard on a leash, reminding him of boundaries. Tucker learned quickly, but Gabe wanted to make sure he understood the commands of a new place. Chasing a rabbit up the hill to the much-busier four-lane road could be deadly, so a little time spent now was well worth it until the dog felt acclimated.
Him or you?
The mental question had Gabe scratching the back of his head.
Corinne was right. The lake was quiet in the fall. Maybe too quiet. He liked quiet in theory, but there was a soothing monotony in the noise and traffic and activity of a busy country road.
There was no busy on Lakeshore Drive in November. That meant he better do something to create his own distractions. A dozen stuffed packing boxes on the second floor should do it.
He went upstairs. He and Mack and one of the team dads had set up the furniture. Susie had put sheets and blankets on the bed, and she’d freshened the pillowcases. She’d probably cringed while doing it, because Gabe didn’t swap them out as often as he should, but she faced his grimy cases like a true friend.