Chapter Five #4
She was busy with kids and watching third base, cheering for each child who could get a hit or run in for a score. By the end of the inning, she looked around and saw Blake showing William how to hold the bat.
The next inning, William stepped up to home plate. She asked someone to take her place and walked over to Blake.
“I see William is going to play. That was fast work.”
“He hasn’t said a dozen words to me, but he listened and he agreed to give this a try. I told him that people get better when they try and when they practice.”
“Whatever you told him, you got through to him. That’s pretty good, Blake. I’m impressed.”
“I’ll be back in a few minutes. I want to move closer where I can coach a little,” he said.
“I thought you said Blake had never been around kids,” her mother said, stopping beside Sierra.
“He hasn’t until today—that’s what he told me.”
“Well, then I’m glad you invited him. If he just helps one child, it’ll be really good. Did you tell him that some of his donation went for the batting machine and some of the sports equipment?”
“Yes, I did. If he helps William, that’ll be a small miracle, but in some ways, Blake can relate to William and vice versa.”
“It’s a stretch, but both of them having no dad is a common bond,” her mother said as they watched William swing and miss.
Blake talked to him. When William swung again, the ball glanced off the bat and was a foul.
On the third swing, the bat connected and the ball bounced away while she heard Blake yell for William to run.
The boy on third scooped up the ball and threw it wide, and William touched first base.
He turned to Blake and grinned while kids and adults clapped.
“Maybe two lives were changed a little this afternoon,” her mother said. “Blake’s a nice guy, and I’m glad you took the job with him. He’s going to help so many people here. Dad is already making plans about what he can do with the money you’ve given him.”
“I’m glad.”
“Here comes Justin with a skinned knee. I don’t see his mother, so I’ll go help him.” Her mother moved away to take care of one of her three-year-old grandsons.
In minutes Sierra was busy clearing tables, and she didn’t talk to Blake the rest of the afternoon. She saw him with her brothers as they joined a bunch of kids of all ages in a tug-of-war over a narrow part of the winding creek.
They had a cookout for dinner, wanting to send everyone home with a hearty meal. It was eleven when quiet settled at home, and she finally stood at her bedroom door to tell Blake good-night.
“Thanks for all your help today.”
“It was interesting. I’m sure you wanted me to see what you’re involved in, and you wanted to stir my sympathy. Well, you succeeded.”
“Some of those kids have a tough deal.”
“Are you sure Bert isn’t a relative of yours? He quizzed me about how long you’ll have to be in Texas, that sort of thing.”
“Bert worries and he hovers, but his intentions are good.”
“I don’t think his intentions toward me are so good,” Blake remarked.
She smiled at his joke. “He worries about me. He worries about Nan. He’s a good guy. You don’t have to go with all of us to church tomorrow if you’d rather not.”
“I’ll go and see what life is like for you,” he replied.
“That will please Dad. He is always happy to have someone come hear him preach,” she said quietly, looking up at Blake.
Beard stubble shadowed his jaw, and his black hair was tousled.
Her heart drummed because she wanted to be in his arms, wanted his kisses.
She had seen another side to him today, a really good side.
His helping her family, caring about people and kids, particularly William, drew her to him in ways that were even stronger than their physical attraction.
This one weekend wouldn’t make him a different man. He was still bent on revenge. But it had changed the way she saw him. There was so much to him that was good.
She would soon have to tell him goodbye. She suspected it would take a long time to forget him, but the sooner they parted, the sooner she would start.
On Sunday Blake joined Sierra and her family for church and another delicious meal with so many people that he marveled at how well her mother handled everything. After dinner a lot of her family played volleyball, and he joined them, laughing and helping the little kids who joined in.
It was sundown when he told everyone goodbye.
Sierra drove as they headed for the airport and his private jet.
Relaxed and friendly, he occasionally brushed her fingers lightly, or her nape, or moved a lock of her hair—tiny touches that shouldn’t have even been noticeable, but instead steadily built a longing in her for more.
When they landed, a limo waited to take them to his Dallas home. Following the winding drive, the car stopped in front of a palatial three-story home with lighted grounds. Inside, as soon as he switched off an alarm, closed the door and locked it, he turned to embrace her.
Surprised, Sierra looked up into midnight eyes that conveyed his intent. Her heart thudded.