thanks.”
“No problem. Y’know, you’re pretty good at this. Who taught you to throw?”
“Mom did. She’s got a good arm for a girl.”
“Does she like baseball, too?” Sam didn’t know what made him ask that, but now that he had, it dawned on him that his curiosity about his new neighbor hadn’t gone away overnight the way he’d expected it to.
“Kinda,” the boy replied as if it baffled him. “She grew up rooting for Atlanta, but she met my dad at a Boston doubleheader, so now she likes the Red Sox.”
It was the first Sam had heard either of them talk about the boy’s father, and it made him wonder about the details of his death. He’d lost his own grandfather not long ago and still missed him every day. He couldn’t imagine how hard it would be for a child to cope with losing a parent so young.
Maybe this was a chance for him to help someone else whose life had been upended by tragedy, he thought. At least, he could try. “So, do you remember much about your father?”
“Some,” Chase answered, spinning the ball in his hand before tossing it back. “He looked fine, but he was sick, and that made Mom sad. He didn’t ever want to go outside or play games with me. She said it wasn’t my fault, so I figured it was because he didn’t want to be my dad anymore.”
Laced with sorrow, those raw, honest words drove straight into Sam’s heart. He’d assumed the Marine had died in combat, but now it sounded as if he’d made it home only to pass away later. Sam didn’t know which was more devastating, but he suspected that to Holly and Chase, there wasn’t much of a difference. Brady was gone, and they had to live without him. It didn’t get much tougher than that.
It wasn’t Sam’s nature to delve into someone else’s pain, especially since he had more than enough of his own to bear. But this brave kid and his grieving mother had broken through his stalwart front and gotten to him in a way other people didn’t. Foreign as it was to him, he acknowledged that their heart-wrenching history made him want to do something to help them.
“I can’t imagine that,” he said. “You’re a great kid, and I’m sure he was proud to be your dad. Sometimes when folks get sick it changes the way they act, even with the people they love most.”
Unfortunately, Sam knew that from agonizing personal experience. His own family had taken turns supporting, coddling and spoiling him until their eggshell walking had all but driven him nuts. All but Brian, he reminded himself with a wry grin. His pain-in-the-neck younger brother had remained his usual difficult self through it all, scoffing when Sam pitied himself, knocking him back into reality when he needed it. Sometimes literally.
“Grown-ups are weird,” Chase muttered, smacking the ball into his own glove with a scowl.
“Got that right,” Sam agreed wholeheartedly, wishing he had some other form of wisdom to offer. But since he didn’t, he opted to change the subject to something less depressing. “So, did you play on a team when you were in Boston?”
The boy’s expression brightened like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. “T-ball, and then baseball.”
“Nice. What position did you play?”
“I usually got stuck in the outfield ’cause I was the youngest.”
His disgusted tone made it clear what he thought of that, and Sam chuckled. “What would you rather play?”
“Catcher. They’re in the action all the time. The outfield’s boring.”
Sam couldn’t agree more. Being in on every play was why he’d enjoyed the position so much when he was growing up. Chase’s comments took him back to his own Little League days, and he chuckled. “Unless you get some gorilla up there who can hit the ball a mile. Then it’s over your head and he’s trotting around the bases like a big shot.”
“Yeah, I hate that. If I ever hit a home run, I’ll be cool about it.”
“Whattya mean ‘if’?” Sam demanded in mock horror. “Don’t you mean ‘when I hit a home run’?”
“It’s pretty hard to do.”
“Nothing worth doing comes easy.” To Sam’s astonishment, one of his dad’s trademark sayings came tumbling out of his mouth. Even more surprising, it struck him as a very fatherly thing to say, and to his knowledge, he didn’t have a paternal bone in his body. He liked kids well enough, but having his own was a faint dream, possibly in the distant future.
But somehow, he’d connected with this friendly boy in a way he’d never done with the rug rats in his own extended family. He wasn’t at all sure that was good for either him or Chase, but now didn’t seem like the time to examine it too closely.
Chase had been dropped into a new town, surrounded by strangers. For some reason, he seemed to enjoy spending time with Sam, and there was no point denying that the feeling was mutual. Out of respect for a fellow soldier who’d died too young, Sam decided that the least he could do was be around when his young neighbor needed someone to listen.
Or simply throw the ball back.
* * *
Holly was digging through a suitcase searching for some dry sneakers when she heard an odd sound out in the overgrown backyard.
Thwack, pause. Thwack, pause. The rhythm was steady, and she couldn’t figure out what might be causing it. Then the sound of a deep voice, followed by Chase’s unmistakable shout, “Awesome!”
Opening her bedroom door farther, she confirmed that he wasn’t in his room but had somehow gone downstairs without her noticing. It wasn’t smart for him to be wandering around on his own, and she made a note to remind him of the simple rules she’d established for him in Boston. Granted, Liberty Creek was a far cry from the city neighborhood they’d lived in before, but in her mind you couldn’t be too careful when it came to your kid’s safety.
Hurrying down the unfinished wooden stairs, she stopped dead in her tracks when she got a glimpse of what was happening outside the kitchen’s bay window. Chase stood on one side of the ragged hedge, tossing a ball to someone on the other side. Technically, he’d stayed in the yard and was still managing to have some fun, and now that she knew he was okay, she admired his creativity with a grin.
Unfortunately, her humor was short-lived when she peered through another window and saw that his throwing partner was Sam Calhoun. Until now, she’d had no idea that he was one of Daphne’s two neighbors, and she berated herself for not asking him where he lived.
Then again, she amended as she made her way to the porch, what were the chances that the former Ranger lived next door? She wasn’t concerned about Sam harming Chase—he struck her as too compassionate for that—but she was very worried that her son might grow too fond of their troubled neighbor and suffer greatly for it later on.
So, when she reached the screen door, she summoned her most casual mom tone before saying, “Morning, boys. I didn’t realize workouts started so early around here.”
“Hey, Mom!” Chase greeted her, waving before lobbing the ball to Sam. “We’re getting warmed up for the game tonight. Boston’s playing the Yankees at Fenway, and we wanna be ready in case the Red Sox need us.”
“His idea,” Sam explained with a sheepish grin that was oddly endearing on such a large man. “I’m sure they’d be happy to get Chase in the lineup, but I don’t imagine they’ll need me unless someone breaks a leg going down the dugout steps.”
In spite of her earlier concern, Holly couldn’t keep back a laugh. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, then. Are you two hungry?”
Typical boy, Chase whooped a reply, spinning his glove in the air before catching it and racing inside. She stepped back to avoid being run over and waited while Sam took a little slower route. His long strides crossed the yard quickly, and he set his battered glove on the top porch