Chapter Nineteen #2
She paused as she noticed three players dressed in Rustwood uniforms amid the sea of green and white.
Her heart beat hard when she recognized them as Stokes, Collier and Brown.
But instead of causing trouble, they each extended their hands, congratulating their former teammates and muttering, “Good game.” Wonders never ceased, apparently.
Calla knew that already, though, because the real curse that had befallen Bishop Falls was no longer. She’d tried her best to write it away, and then Jackson had finished it off with a last-minute touchdown that the town would be talking about for years to come.
She needed to get to him. Joy blossomed within her until she felt like her heart might burst. She slipped her hand inside the pocket of her jeans, searching for the trading card she’d brought along as a good-luck charm.
Running her hand over its soft edges soothed her and reminded her that this was all meant to be.
Ethan had all but said so. Coincidences like that just didn’t happen.
And then she spotted Jackson standing at the center of the mayhem, which somehow seemed appropriate.
He held a mum in his hands—a whopper of a corsage with a triple flower, green-and-white ribbons that dragged the ground and enough glitter to choke a unicorn.
A lump rose to her throat. She’d forgotten about their bet.
That mum was for her, and she couldn’t wait to wear that gaudy thing and dance the night away with her coach.
But as the players around her shifted and moved, she recognized the trio of men surrounding Jackson: Earl Whitaker, the athletic director and Principal Dean. Their expressions were serious—far too solemn for a victory celebration.
Her footsteps slowed, not wanting to intrude on something she shouldn’t be a part of.
She turned around, but her path was blocked by a crowd of players singing the fight song, arms clasped around each other’s shoulders and swaying to the beat.
Calla stumbled backward, missing her chance to slip away unnoticed just as she heard Jackson’s voice, as clear as a bell and firmly resolute.
“I’m sorry, gentlemen. I appreciate the offer to renew my contract, but the answer is no.”
* * *
“Calla, wait.” Jackson pushed through the crowd, searching for the familiar flash of her red cowboy boots, but the field was jam-packed. He’d never seen a celebration quite like this before—not even in the professional league.
Damn it. Where is she?
He tripped over one of the braided ribbons trailing from the insane mum in his hands—he’d asked Marigold from Field Goal Flowers for the sparkliest, most ridiculous one she had in stock, and boy, had she delivered—and nearly collided with Tommy Riess.
He gripped the boy’s arm. “Tommy, have you seen Calla?”
The teenager blinked, and his megawatt smile dimmed just a hair. “You mean Miss Dunne?”
Two months on the job, and he still hadn’t grown accustomed to using the proper honorifics that rolled so easily off the tongues of students and staff alike.
“Yes.” He nodded, panic swirling low in his gut. “Miss Dunne.”
He should’ve gone after her the second he’d seen the color drain from her face. He could’ve finished settling things with the Victory Club and the school district later.
Now, who knew what she was thinking?
You know exactly what she thinks.
He felt sick. If he couldn’t find her, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do.
“I think I saw her go that way,” Tommy said, pointing to the field house area where Calla had spied on his conversation with Harper back on his first day in Bishop Falls.
That seemed poetic. He just hoped that the sonnet they’d woven together in recent weeks still had a chance at a happy ending.
“Coach,” Tommy said, stopping him before he took off. “It looked like she had tears on her face. I’ve never seen Miss Dunne cry before. Do you think maybe she was just really happy that we won?”
He turned hopeful eyes on Jackson.
Jackson knew better than to lie to his players. A coach should be a straight shooter. Lying wasn’t the way to build trust, but he couldn’t ruin this moment for Tommy. So he pasted on a smile and nodded. “I’m sure that’s what it was.”
Tommy’s features relaxed again, and before Jackson knew what was happening, the teen wrapped his arms around him in a bear hug like the one he’d given him after the season opener.
“Thank you, Coach,” he said into Jackson’s shoulder, not ready to let go. “This season changed my life. I don’t know what I’ll do when you’re gone.”
Jackson pulled away just enough to grasp him by the shoulders and look him in the eye. “Don’t count me out just yet, okay?”
He winked.
Tommy gasped. “Does that mean—”
Jackson shook his head. He couldn’t say more.
He’d made a promise to tell Calla his plans before he told anyone else, and he wasn’t going to break it.
“You’ll have to wait a little bit longer to know what it means.
But listen up, the season isn’t over yet.
We still have more games to win. By the time we get to State, you might just be ready to get back out there. ”
“Yes, sir.” Tommy nodded, and the smile he flashed Jackson was bright enough to rival all the stars in the big, bright Texas sky.
* * *
Calla didn’t know what she was doing, hiding in the shadows of the field house. All she wanted to do was go home, but there was an entire football field between her and the stadium exit and there was no way she’d make it to the other side without someone seeing her cry.
Everyone in Bishop Falls was out there, and they all knew exactly how she felt about Jackson Knight.
She’d made it literal front page news. Sooner or later, they’d all know what happened.
Once Jackson was gone, her broken heart would be the talk of the town.
And still, she couldn’t quite bring herself to regret anything.
She slipped the trading card out of her pocket and traced the outline of Jackson’s face with the pad of her thumb.
A tear slipped down her cheek and she pressed the card to her heart, searching for her brother’s turf logo in the distance.
There were far too many people on the field to actually see it, and it was no doubt covered in confetti by now, but she knew the exact spot where it lay.
She always would, even if someone decided to paint over it years from now and replace it with the name of another player…
another hometown hero. But for now, his name was still there, splashed across the bright green turf and for the first time since Ethan’s passing, she was glad she had a place to come talk to him—a place where she could still feel his presence.
She’d never stop missing him, but the pain was different now. It wasn’t a red, angry thing that made her lash out at the sport that had cost him so much. It was more wistful now, laced with a quiet determination to make him proud. To live her life in the way that he no longer could.
“I did it, Ethan,” she whispered. “I let myself fall in love, and you’d never believe who it was.”
She laughed under her breath as her fingers closed more tightly around the trading card. “Actually, you probably would. It’s not meant to be, though. He’s leaving, and even though I knew it would happen all along, I just don’t know how to say goodbye.”
It felt good to talk to her brother again—almost as good as it felt to let her feelings out for a change. Maybe she’d come back and do this again sometime. Wouldn’t that be a hoot? She’d become the talk of the town, walking around and talking to the Astroturf.
Calla wiped her face. She needed to get herself together and get home before she accidentally let herself get caught up in the homecoming activities. She’d rather die than hear the tinkle of a cowbell or the swish of a ribbon.
But then she did—and it wasn’t far away on the field. It was right behind her. And it was followed by a tender whisper that made her soul twist with bittersweet longing.
“Who says it’s not meant to be?”
Her heart sprang to her throat as she turned around. “Jackson.” She looked down at his hands. He was still carrying the ridiculous mum. “How much did you hear just now?”
“Enough.” He came closer, eyes glittering in the darkness. “Enough to know you’re in love with me, and enough to realize that you seem to think a goodbye is in order when it’s not.”
Calla went still. Had she heard him correctly? “Isn’t it?”
He shook his head. “No, it isn’t.”
“But I just heard you turn down an extension on your coaching contract. And that’s okay. You’re a professional football player, not a small-town coach. I never expected—”
“Who says I’m not a small-town coach?” He angled his head toward her, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a grin. “I’ve got a five-year contract that says otherwise, sweetheart.”
Hope fluttered in her heart, as sweet as Texas hill country honey. “What?”
“You heard me turning down a one-year contract earlier. I parted ways with my agent yesterday, so I’m doing my own negotiating now.
I wasn’t about to sign on for just one year.
I wanted five, minimum.” He gave a little shrug.
“Plus I wanted outright ownership of Bishop. Thanks to tonight’s win, I was able to be pretty convincing. ”
“You’re really staying?” Calla shook her head. She could barely believe what she was hearing.
“Yeah. I’m really staying.” His expression turned serious…wistful. “When Harper called the other day, it was to tell me the Cyclones wanted me back. It didn’t feel right at first, and then she said something that made everything crystal clear.”
“What did she say?” Calla placed her hand on his chest and felt his heartbeat, steady and true beneath her fingertips.
“She said it was time to come home, and that’s when I knew.” He covered her hand with his and then lifted it to his lips, gently kissing the back of her hand. “I didn’t need to go anywhere. I’m already home.”
She wanted to cry and laugh and kiss his handsome face, all at the same time. But first she had some news of her own to share. “In that case, you might be interested to know that after this season, I’ll no longer be covering the Bulldogs for the Lone Star Gazette .”
“Is that so?” His eyebrows rose. “Going somewhere, sweetheart?”
“Nope, but I did get an offer from SportsSphere.”
“SportSphere? Wow. This must be what you tried to tell me the other day.”
“That’s not the big news, though. You’re not the only negotiator around here.
When Stan told me SportsSphere had reached out to him and wanted to poach me, I was able to parlay their offer into a promotion.
He’s taking me off the sports page and moving me to features.
I’ll get to write the inspirational profiles I want to write.
” She grinned. “You know what this means, right? We’re officially allowed to date. ”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” he said. Quite the statement, considering everything that had just transpired in this football stadium. “Timely, too, since I believe you owe me a dance tonight.”
She laughed as he fumbled with the mum, trying to pin it to her sweater. “You do love a wager.”
“That’s not the only thing I love,” he whispered. He caressed the side of her face, tipping her face toward his, just so. “I love you, Calla. Just to be clear, Bishop Falls isn’t my home. You are.”
“You might need to seal that with a kiss, Coach.”
And then at long last, his mouth came down on hers, and Calla had never tasted anything sweeter than a Texas forever after.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Autumn Nights, Holiday Lights by Elle Douglas .