Chapter 2
2
Surprise is the greatest gift
which life can grant us.
Boris Pasternak
“ T hat hunk of junk yours?” asked the beautiful woman riding the magnificent horse.
“I sure wouldn’t call a 1955 Porsche 550 Spyder a hunk of junk,” Teddy Gwenn answered with a gleeful guffaw.
The fiery princess had the warmth of an iceberg, which did nothing to diminish her magnificence. Her perch upon the massive beast and the way she looked down her pert little nose at him — a mere peasant in her realm — should’ve been off-putting. Instead, her disdain delighted Teddy, nearly to the point of jubilation.
Coach Hayes, Teddy’s mentor throughout high school and college, had always claimed Teddy was half fool and fifty percent crazy. The woman lording over him in that moment might prove the irascible old man right.
“But, yeah, she’s mine,” he continued, allowing a shy grin while shrugging with pride.
Back in the second grade, Teddy earned a door prize ticket at the elementary school book fair. He’d never purchased anything at the annual library event, but he had eyed the books, the toys, and the trinkets plenty. As the principal drew tickets from the box and read students’ names aloud to the assembly, Teddy scrunched his eyes, hoping and praying for a copy of Dav Pilkey’s Captain Underpants and the Preposterous Plight of the Purple Potty People book… Honestly, any Captain Underpants would have been terrific. Teddy had read every one of them, checked them out of the library multiple times, and wanted one of his own real bad . When he heard his name, Teddy jumped with a whoop, elated to receive a book. Winding through the other kids, he hustled to the front of the cafeteria wearing an ear-splitting smile.
I won. I really won!
When he got to the stage, though, the librarian handed him a plastic bag encasing a rolled-up piece of paper. A poster? He’d won some dumb poster when all he’d wanted was a new book. But he took the poster home all the same, unrolling it to reveal a sleek, cherry red sports car. Not just a sports car, but a vintage racing model that sat close to the ground with a weathered covered bridge in the background, the rough road and soft green grass along the bar ditch juxtaposed with the car’s expensive-looking shiny interior and spotless exterior. The waxed tires, sleek and low profile with silky smooth aluminum rims, reflected light almost as vividly as the paint dazzled in the sun’s bright rays.
Teddy had decided the poster was pretty cool, even if it wasn’t Captain Underpants . He taped it to the dingy wall in his room, and he’d come to love it. Over the years, the poster transformed into a talisman, a tangible source of motivation.
No matter where their family moved, the poster went with Teddy… No matter how challenging the days, how long and cold the nights, or how heartbreaking the defeats, the poster provided constant encouragement.
He took the poster to Louisiana State University, hanging it in his dorm room, despite the teasing and ribbing he received from his teammates and friends. After Atlanta drafted him in the fifteenth round, the poster traveled with him through the minor leagues…first in Rome, Georgia, then to Pearl, Mississippi during Teddy’s stint with the Double A Braves, and on to Lawrenceville, Georgia and the Gwinnett Stripers for two short stays at the Triple A level.
When the Atlanta Braves called him up to the big league, Teddy’s first purchase had been to get that old poster custom framed to hang it in a place of prominence…in the garage of his home, which had been his second significant purchase…one bought and paid for, one nobody would ever take away.
After a record-setting rookie season led to a new, rather hefty contract with the Braves, Teddy splurged for a third milestone purchase: the car. Not a replica, not a kit. The car, the one he’d promised himself to see in person with his own two eyes, the one he’d hoped to sit in some day, the one he’d prayed a million times he’d have a chance to drive before he died an old man…the one he parked right in front of his poster when he got home — home — after long hours of practice, after games just a few miles up the road at Truist Park, after series on the road, and after holidays with family and friends.
Teddy had also vowed to drive country roads, taking time to enjoy the journey of life, not only the destination, every opportunity he found. He’d never had a single problem with the car…until ten minutes earlier that day, when it had sputtered, slowed, and died next to a hay field in the middle of Nowhere, Oklahoma .
Teddy eyed his sweet sports car in consternation. What did fate hope to accomplish, conspiring to dump him at the feet of a veritable vixen? He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck as he turned toward the woman and her horse. After a moment’s deliberation, he shrugged and began walking to close the distance between them. “I don’t know what could’ve hap?—”
“Wrong way,” she interrupted, backing up the horse and gesturing to the asphalt behind Teddy with a jerk of her chin.
“I’m sorry?” He’d just been winding up to share his thoughts on what might’ve caused the engine to sputter and die without warning. The auburn-haired angel didn’t care.
“You’re walking the wrong way…town’s in the other direction.” With that, she reined the horse in a half circle and started off down the fence line.
“How far?” Teddy called out before she could get out of earshot.
She circled back to face Teddy but stopped again at least twenty yards away. He half-jogged closer.
Her eyes narrowed.
He halted. “ Exactly how far is the walk to town?”
With cool composure, her gaze traveled from his face to his feet and back again. Her head tilted in consideration.
Did she like what she saw?
Teddy’s heart sped up as she assessed him.
He’d never wanted to measure up as much as he wanted to right then.
Granted, his faded blue jeans had seen better days and were a bit thread-bare at the knees. Probably not the best first impression.
And for the drive, he’d thrown on his most comfortable, most broken-in pair of goat-skin Tecovas. His cowboy boots had started out a handsome golden brown that resembled a glass of aged scotch; years later, a healthy dose of scuffs and scrapes added personality. Perhaps also not what he’d have chosen if he’d known he’d be hoping to impress someone that day.
At least his shirt was a winner. Made from the softest cotton he’d ever felt, the t-shirt featured a cartoon peach wearing white baseball pants, a ball cap, and a cheesy smile standing with his chest puffed out in a round frame that read Columbus Clingstones across the chest of the long-sleeved, heather-orange tee. No one could find fault with the coolest team logo in all of minor league baseball.
When her eyes made their way from scuffed boot to thread-bare jeans, across the awesome t-shirt, and back to his face, Teddy plastered on a confident grin. Little Orphan Annie did say, You’re never fully dressed without a smile.
“You can make it in an hour…maybe a little less,” the redhead in front of him announced.
Was that good or bad? Did it mean she’d found him strong and able? Or feeble and wanting?
I’m a professional athlete, for Pete’s sake.
Glancing down at his feet, trying once more to see himself through her eyes, he laughed at his desire to know her thoughts. Just then, the sound of hooves clopping into the distance signaled that the object of his thoughts had left.
“You could give me a ride,” he hollered after her, into the vacant space where the Titian goddess had been seconds before.
She didn’t respond, just kept riding off into the sunset.
Teddy didn’t move, admiring horse and rider until they disappeared into the horizon.
Then he followed them.
Twenty minutes later, a break in the pasture revealed a road and an open gate. A metal sign over a cattle guard announced Teddy had arrived at O’Casey Farm . The name fit. The feisty lass had to be an O’Casey.
Teddy followed the road until he came upon a sprawling farmhouse. An explosion of flower beds, shrubs, colorful planters, and winter flowers offered a much warmer welcome than had the cool queen, whom he suspected ruled the land with a fierce fist.
No one answered when he knocked on the front door, so he meandered around the wide front porch, complete with wooden rocking chairs, inviting pillows, and even a soft, well-used quilt folded across the railing. He continued to the side yard, where the red-headed beauty sat on her knees among tall green stalks. Whistling to announce his arrival, Teddy approached with caution. When he’d reached where she was extracting vegetables from the ground, he peered over her shoulder.
“Potatoes?” Teddy wondered aloud.
“You’re more lost than you were before,” she said by way of greeting, without even sparing him a quick glance.
“With such warm and fuzzy welcoming vibes, I couldn’t help but see where you were headed.” A happy-go-lucky smile accompanied his rebuttal.
She flashed him a glare of pure irritation.
Instead of rising to her bait, Teddy crouched beside her. He paid attention to what she was doing and how she did it, and then he began digging in the dirt, replicating her task.
“I got one,” he exclaimed a few minutes later, raising his find in the air with a punch of victory.
She didn’t congratulate Teddy, but she did grin…well, it was almost a grin…just a tiny bit of a change in the pursing of her lips, but he saw it. And it sparked a hum in his chest.
They worked in silence— well, relative silence, since Teddy hummed or whistled all the while.
When they’d made several piles of potatoes, Teddy’s new fascination stood up, whisked the dirt from her hands and jeans, and walked into a shed on the far end of the garden. She returned with four wooden crates.
She filled a crate with the potatoes they’d already unearthed. Teddy followed her lead and filled a second crate. Then she dug for more potatoes, so Teddy rooted around the soil for more potatoes, too.
Again, the enigmatic woman said nothing. To balance her silence, Teddy filled the space with a steady stream of upbeat whistles and hums.
On numerous occasions, Coach Hayes had also commented, often in exasperation, that he had never known a person to have a song in his heart 24/7 until he’d met Teddy; Coach vowed he wouldn’t mind going back to that quieter time. But Coach never meant it. And Teddy never took offense; good vibes weren’t meant to be tamped down. No, those set on grumpiness and frowns, cantankerous old coaches and stunning new strangers alike, challenged Teddy. Their crankiness became a gauntlet, daring Teddy to step up his game; their behavior inspired him to be more joyful, more vocal, and more playful until he got a reaction.
In the garden, Teddy and his reluctant leader didn’t stop harvesting the vegetables until all four boxes threatened to overflow with a colorful array of gold, red, brown, and purple potatoes.
With the wooden crates too full to fit another potato, their digging was done.
“Are all these for us?” Teddy asked.
She flashed a smirk of disdain in his direction, exactly like the one she’d used upon his arrival in her garden.
“I mean, I love meat and potatoes, but that’s a lot of potatoes!” he explained.
“There is no us . These are for the produce stand I’ll have this weekend at the Sweetheart Festival.” It was the most forthcoming she’d been in hours.
She stood and dusted off her jeans. Teddy stood and wiped his dirty hands on his pants, too. When she gathered trowels, he picked up the rest of the hand tools. When she bent to pick up a crate, Teddy intervened.
“I’ll get those,” he announced, stepping between her and her heavy boxes of vegetables. “Just show me where to go.”
“I already tried that,” she said with a sardonic glare. “It didn’t work,” she reminded him. Then she stepped around him, hefting a box that had to weigh fifty or sixty pounds.
“Huh,” he huffed, but followed his ignoble grunt with what he’d been told was his most charming grin.
“Fine,” she acquiesced. “Grab one and follow me. They go in the shed.”
Teddy wanted to argue that he’d grab them all, but something said he’d be wasting his breath. Instead, he carried the fullest, heaviest-looking crate into the small building.
There Teddy discovered shelf after shelf full of the wooden crates. Almost every one of them overflowed with winter’s harvest.
“Wow!” Teddy whistled to convey his approval. “This is quite a bounty. I had no idea so many vegetables grew in the cold.”
And there it was again: her pursed-lip, head-shaking glance of derision, establishing his ignorance and stupidity without an ounce of filter. Gorgeous!
The fact that she didn’t soften the blow to his ego warmed his heart like no team groupie — with their revealing outfits, over-painted faces, and simpering smiles — could.
Teddy made two more trips to carry in the rest of the potatoes. Then he snooped around the garden shed, nosying into buckets and bins, while his hostess organized shelves and jotted notes on a legal pad of yellow paper.
“I can’t remember the last time I bought fresh produce at the store,” Teddy admitted, picking up a cluster of green onions and inhaling their sharp, earthy scent.
“Probably wasn’t all that fresh if it came from the store.” Then she walked to the door, pausing at the threshold to glance at him over her shoulder. “Come on; I suppose you’ve earned dinner.” She returned to the wall of crops she’d produced, picked up one of this and two of that. “You can see what fresh vegetables actually taste like,” she added as she passed Teddy, flipped off the light, and left him standing in the dark.