Chapter Fourteen
I f Jackson thought the encounter at the coffee shop would be the Victory Club’s only attempt to pressure him into not disciplining the team captains, he’d have been sorely mistaken.
He’d barely had time to get settled in his office—several minutes ahead of the tardy bell, thank you very much—when Principal Dean’s assistant called, summoning him to a meeting at the main office.
“Let me guess,” Cade said as Jackson replaced the phone’s receiver into its cradle. The communication system at Bishop Falls High School was about as antiquated as the decrepit coffee maker at his rental house. “You just got called into the principal’s office.”
Jackson pushed his chair back from his desk and stood, hands loosely planted on his hips. “How did you know?”
“The same way I knew Earl Whitaker and his crew would be lying in wait for you this morning at Huddle Up,” Cade said with a raised eyebrow.
“A heads-up would’ve been nice,” Jackson countered.
“Come on, you can’t tell me Calla didn’t warn you.”
“That she did.” Jackson shifted uneasily on his feet. His knee hadn’t been troubling him much lately. At least one thing was going right. “So did Tommy Riess’s mother.”
He still couldn’t get the conversation with the injured player’s mom out of his head.
She’d tried so hard to stay strong in front of her son, but as soon as they’d moved to the hospital hallway, he’d easily seen how shaken up she was by the beating.
Looking into her eyes, red and swollen from crying, the mixture of resignation and hope he’d seen there had humbled him like nothing else had in years.
He had a responsibility to these kids that went beyond sports. A real coach was a mentor, both on and off the field, and that’s what this team needed most of all—not a state championship, but a coach they could count on. Someone who was steady and true.
Jackson wasn’t that man, obviously. But at the moment, he was as close as it got.
“Those boys need consequences,” he said tersely.
“I couldn’t agree more.” Cade steepled his hands and appeared to choose his next words carefully.
“Just be prepared before you go in there. They’re going to do everything in their power to convince you otherwise.
It’s not just going to be Principal Dean.
Odds are, there’s already an entire firing squad waiting for you in the conference room. ”
The joke was on them, though, because Jackson was indeed ready. And as crazy as it seemed, he had Bishop to thank for it.
He jerked his head in the direction of the bulldog splayed with his paws pointed skyward and snoring his head off on his dog bed. “Do me a favor and keep an eye on you-know-who while I’m gone. And don’t worry. I’ve got this.”
Cade shot him a puzzled look. “You do?”
“I sure do.” Jackson strode out of the office, raising a fist as he went. “Go, Bulldogs!”
“Go, Bulldogs!” Cade echoed behind him.
Just as his quarterbacks coach had predicted, when Jackson arrived at the principal’s office, the school secretary escorted him straight to the main office’s conference room.
Principal Dean, the athletic director, Bob Simmons and Earl Whitaker were all seated on one side of the table, opposite the only empty chair available.
A symbolic move, if Jackson had ever seen one.
“Gentlemen.” He tipped his Bulldogs cap as he sat down.
Principal Dean was the first to speak. “Coach Knight, I’m sure you know why we’re all here this morning.”
Jackson nodded. “If this is about the assault that occurred on Saturday night, then yes. I sure do.”
Everyone winced at his use of the word assault , except for Principal Dean. Maybe he wasn’t all alone in this fight, after all.
“Now let’s not get carried away with inflammatory language.” The Victory Club president sat up straighter in his chair. “As I told you earlier this morning at Huddle Up, they’re good—”
Jackson held up a hand. “I’m going to stop you right there, Earl. We all know what happened, and while we all might have different opinions about any subsequent disciplinary action to be taken, only one of those opinions matters. And that opinion is mine.”
“Excuse me?” Earl’s eyebrows lifted so high that they practically flew right off his head.
“You heard me. I’m the head coach of this team. I make the rules. I decide who plays and who doesn’t. That’s why you hired me, isn’t it?”
Principal Dean nodded as the other men exchanged uncomfortable glances. “I’m afraid Coach Knight is correct. The head coach is traditionally responsible for making disciplinary decisions regarding the team.”
Bob Simmons cleared his throat, but refused to meet Jackson’s gaze. “Even when that coach’s own past behavior hardly makes him a suitable role model for our students?”
“Everyone should’ve thought about that before they hired me and dragged me down here.” Jackson shrugged, nonplussed.
He’d been on the receiving end of comments like that for his entire life. If anything, being reminded of his own mistakes only strengthened his resolve. The boys on his team deserved more guidance than he’d had when he’d been their age.
“Going round and round like this isn’t helpful,” the athletic director said, tension thick in his voice. “Coach, go ahead and tell us your thoughts. Clearly you’ve already got a punishment in mind.”
“I do.” Jackson paused, jaw set with determination as he scanned the room, meeting each person’s gaze.
“Those boys broke the team’s honor code.
Hazing has no place whatsoever on this team.
Not only did they put their team member in the hospital, but their actions were intentional and brazen.
They wore their team jerseys, and the incident took place on school property. ”
No one else uttered a word, but out of the corner of his eye, Jackson thought he spotted Principal Dean giving a small, almost imperceptible nod.
He took a deep breath. “This isn’t just about winning games. It’s about building character. I’m suspending Stokes, Collier and Brown from the team for the rest of the season.”
“For the rest of the season ?” Earl Whitaker flew to his feet, nearly knocking his chair over in the process. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Jackson, you do realize that those boys are seniors, right? They’re graduating this year. All three hope to play in college,” the athletic director said.
“I’m aware.” Jackson offered the man a tight-lipped smile. “And you may call me Coach Knight.”
“Not anymore.” Earl plopped back down in his seat and turned furious eyes on Jackson. “Either reverse your decision, or you’re out.”
“If I may…” Coach Simmons cleared his throat.
“If Coach Knight is no longer willing to heed the wishes of the Victory Club, I’m ready and willing to step in as head coach.
Stokes, Collier and Brown will, of course, be permitted to play.
I’m sure I can come up with an alternative form of punishment. ”
Not so fast, Simmons.
Jackson’s mouth curved into an overly solicitous smile. “That’s awfully kind of you, Coach. But the Victory Club can’t fire me. No one can—not quite yet.”
“What are you talking about? Yes, we can. We pay your salary. Did you really think the school district could come up with such an outrageous sum on its own?” Earl snorted. “Your employment contract states we can terminate you mid-season. You’re fired, Coach. Deal with it.”
Jackson remained perfectly calm, despite the rising sense of antagonism on the other side of the table. “Have you actually read the contract? Because that’s not what it says.”
Thank goodness for Bishop. If it hadn’t been for that wheezing bundle of neediness, Jackson never would’ve pored over the terms of his employment agreement.
In his search for the mascot-caretaking clause, he’d stumbled upon a few other interesting tidbits.
When he’d returned from visiting Tommy at the hospital yesterday, he’d reread it just to be sure.
“You’re correct about one thing—my employment can be terminated mid-season.” Jackson smiled. “But only in the event of a loss.”
Calla had said it herself back when he’d first invited her to attend team practices.
If the team loses a single game, you’re out. You know that, right? They’ll see to it. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s written into your contract.
He owed her just as much gratitude as he owed the dog. They’d taught him to pay attention to the fine print. They’d saved him…
For the time being, at least.
“As I’m sure everyone here is aware, the Bulldogs are undefeated.” He shrugged. “Looks like you’re all stuck with me.”
A heavy silence fell over the conference table. Jackson was right, and he suspected they all knew it. They just never expected him to care about the team enough to call their bluff. They thought he’d throw up his hands and walk away, more than happy to go back to his life as a professional player.
The thing was, he didn’t even blame them. If this had happened at the start of the season, that’s exactly what he would’ve done. He’d have seized onto any reason he could find to put this football-crazed town and their ridiculous expectations behind him.
But that’s not who Jackson was anymore. He wasn’t the same person he’d been back then. Whether they realized it or not, he was different now. He was a Bulldog. The team was a part of him now, and vice versa.
“I wouldn’t look so smug if I were you, Coach Knight. You may have bought yourself another two weeks on this team, but your days in Bishop Falls are numbered. If you think you can beat Rustwood without our three best players, you’re fooling yourself.”
Jackson stood. He didn’t have time for any more of this nonsensical back-and-forth. He had a team to coach.
“Watch me.”
* * *
Word of the player suspensions spread through Bishop Falls like wildfire. Calla had been sitting in the Gazette ’s regular Monday-morning staff meeting when her phone started blowing up, vibrating like mad in the pocket of her jean jacket.