Owens and Blaine were already running with the team. “Get things started for me in the locker room, will you?” Gabe said to Buzz and brought up the rear because it was slow going pushing a wheelchair over turf.
As he neared the spectators lining the fence, he heard a woman laugh and say maybe the great Gabriel Holbrook didn’t have it in him to be a coach. He could have recognized Deborah by her vitriolic comment, but he didn’t have to. She was standing at the gate.
“I tried to warn you that you had a problem with the team,” she said as he passed by. “But you were too busy with Hannah to even take my call.”
He’d taken it. She was the one who’d hung up. But Gabe ignored her. He didn’t need Deborah’s help. He needed his boys to come through for him. If Kenny could get off a few passes, it was still possible to recover…unless Blaine had poisoned too many members of the team.
“Gabe.”
A strong, familiar hand squeezed his shoulder just before he entered the locker room. Even before he looked up, Gabe knew by the feel of that hand, and the voice, that it was his father. He wanted to pull away and disappear inside the building. He had work to do. But Garth quickly planted himself squarely in the way.
“Yes, sir?”
“You’ve got to make some adjustments, huh?”
Was his father trying to tell him how to coach? Gabe glanced behind him at the milling crowd, most of which were streaming toward the snack bar. “A few.”
“What are you going to do?”
What was his father hoping to accomplish, waylaying him like this? “I don’t know yet.”
“A lot of folks think you should pull Price out.”
“What’s happening isn’t Kenny’s fault. He’s getting no protection.”
“So you’re going to stick with him?”
“Maybe. I know he can do the job.”
Garth shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. “Then I say go with your gut. You know what you’re doing. There’s plenty of time left.”
Suddenly Gabe realized why Garth was standing there. He was offering his support. Gabe could see it in his face. His father wanted him to succeed. His earnest expression reminded Gabe of all the games where his dad had sat in the stands, cheering him on, of all the rides his father had given him to and from practice, of all the trips they’d taken to the sporting goods store for new cleats or pads or other things to help his game. And the endless encouragement. Garth was trying to provide more of the same now….
It was like Reenie had said. Regardless of that incident twenty-four years ago, his father had always been there for them, providing a solid foundation.
A sudden tightness in Gabe’s throat made it difficult to speak. God, he missed what they used to have. “I better get inside,” he said.
“Right.” Garth started to move away.
Gabe watched him for a second, then cleared his throat so he could call out. “Dad?”
Garth turned, looking surprised. It was the first time in months Gabe had addressed him in any way other than “sir.” “Yes?”
So many things hovered on Gabe’s tongue…Too many. He couldn’t sort them out—at least not now. One battle at a time. He needed to get into the locker room and take charge of his team. But something held him back, something that whispered, “Quit being your own worst enemy.”
“Thanks,” he said simply.
His father smiled and nodded. “Go get ’em, eh?”
HANNAH REMAINED in her seat during halftime while Russ took Brent to the rest room. When he returned, he grinned and had Patti move down so he could sit by her. “Where would you like to go on our little date?” he asked. “We could leave the boys with Patti and take a trip, maybe head to a resort for the weekend.”
He’d never offered to take her to a resort when they were married. They’d been too poor, mostly because he rarely had a job. Even if they went now, which was never going to happen, she’d probably have to pay for it.
Some new leaf he’s turning over… “The Spartans haven’t lost yet,” she grumbled. “And a date doesn’t last the entire weekend. If I lose, we’re talking a movie with the boys at most.”
Russ’s face darkened at her response. “It’s Gabe, isn’t it? It’s like everyone’s been saying. You really are sleeping with him.”
Hannah glanced quickly at Brent, relieved to find him too preoccupied with his cousins to be listening to their conversation. But Patti leaned close, obviously hanging on every word.
Hannah almost denied it. Then she remembered what Gabe had said when he was lying next to her yesterday. If they say we’re sleeping together, we say, damn right, as often as possible. Where can they go after a response like that? Hannah was fairly certain Russ would go ballistic, but she didn’t care. She was tired of restraining her own emotions, tired of caring too much about what everyone else thought and felt. “I am,” she said. “And, man, is he good.”
It was the most blatantly truthful thing she’d ever said to either one of them—and she could tell they knew it when Russ’s jaw went slack and Patti’s eyes turned into saucers.
“You’re telling me the mother of my children, the woman I’ve known most of my life, is really a cheap slut?” Russ growled.
“Russ…” Patti warned, obviously torn, and nervous about the children overhearing.
Hannah met his eyes and smiled faintly. “No. I’m telling you I’m in love with Gabriel Holbrook, and I don’t care who knows it.”
“He’s using you, getting back at you for what you did to him,” Russ said.
“You’re making a mistake, Hannah,” Patti warned. “You’ll never be able to keep him.”
Hannah gazed down at the empty football field. “That doesn’t change anything.”
KENNY SAT SLUMPED against the lockers while Coach Owens chewed out the whole team. “What the hell happened to our front line during the first half of this game?” he yelled. “Where were our blocks? Do you want to let Oakridge make fools out of us all?”
Some of the guys shook their heads and mumbled in response, but most sat in depressed silence.
After Owens, it was Blaine’s turn to address the team but he had little to say. Kenny couldn’t even look at him. He hated Blaine, resented how he’d divided the team—especially because the bad guys seemed to be winning. Kenny couldn’t make a difference in the game no matter how hard he tried.