Heaven's Touch (5 page)

“Is your family going up to your lake cabin for the rest of the weekend?” Cadence waited, trying to distract the girl. For there was more to life than finding fault with a less than perfect dive, and more to life than diving.

“Yeah. Dad brought the boat up last weekend and wants to go on this lame boat ride.” Ashley, the teenager she was, rolled her eyes. “But I'm gonna stay and work on my dives. My uncle cleared beneath the dock—there were some rocks and stuff—and so now it's safe to dive. I'm gonna practice until I can do a back dive pike as perfect as you did in the Olympics, Cadence.”

“That was one dive that was right at just the right moment. Besides, in a few years you'll be off at college and away from home all the time. You might want to think about that lame boat ride. You can have fun and still find time to practice, you know.”

Ashley rolled her eyes again in that way teenagers had of saying “I know.” “Thanks for everything and stuff. I'll have that dive nailed by Monday. I
promise!” Ashley hurried off, snagged the towel from the bench and slipped past Peggy at the door.

Peggy's huge key ring jangled. “Hurry. We're gonna be late for the game, and you heard me promise to drag our star pitcher to the field on time.”

“Do we have a game today?” Cadence bit the side of her mouth to keep from smiling and watched as Peggy's jaw dropped.

“How could you forget? This is the big game. Against those uptown city pool girls. The ones who trounced us last year because you forgot about the game.” Peggy locked the door behind them and followed Cadence through the dim office. “You didn't really forget, did you? Not this time. Not with our relief pitcher in San Diego on vacation.”

“I didn't forget.” Cadence checked the lockers and the cabinets. She then stole her things from the top of a file cabinet and locked the private office up tight. “And I'm not officially late. Yet. Can we get to the field in four minutes and forty-two seconds?”

“No sweat, but you have to let me fix your hair. You aren't gonna attract a nice, decent man with your hair looking like a gopher's taken up residence in it.”

“My hair isn't that bad.” Bad-hair days were an occupational hazard of working at a swimming pool. Between lessons and swim team and private lessons and guard duty, there wasn't much of a chance to comb out wet hair after every dunking.

She waited for Peggy to pass through the outer office door, and they finished their routine of locking and setting alarms and waiting for Ashley to finish changing and leave. Hurrying out into the parking lot, Cadence caught her reflection in her sedan's windshield.

Nope, definitely not the best hair day, she thought as she wrestled with her door lock. When the stubborn door opened, she tossed her bag onto the backseat.

Still, she thought on the drive over, it wasn't as if she was going to catch a husband on the baseball diamond in an all-women league. After so much time being single, she wasn't sure she wanted to risk her heart again. Her attempts at romance had ended disastrously—both of them.

I'm happy alone, she decided with absolute certainty as she slipped into one of the last available parking spots along the street. Peggy meant well, but she'd been happily married for over thirty-five years. Not everyone fell in love with their high school sweetheart, married and lived happily ever after.

And speaking of her high school sweetheart, there he was. Down on his knees, Ben McKaslin looked like everything good and decent and awesome in a man as he talked with a little boy somewhere around six or seven. The child was his spitting image. From the high cheekbones and straight blade of a nose to his full mouth to the small dimple cut into a rock-hard chin. Ben's son? He had to be.

The little boy's face had yet to find the hard-edged look that Ben's had, but he was going to grow up as handsome as his dad. The shock of seeing them together made her glad she couldn't be seen.

Somehow in all these years she'd never pictured Ben settling down, marrying a nice woman and raising children.

But he had. Maybe he'd found the best in himself after all.

“Cadence! Over this way!” Across the street and down a way, there was Peggy with her hand over her eyes to shade them, cracking gum and motioning in the opposite direction on the city of Bozeman's huge, multipurpose park.

The baseball diamonds seemed to wink beneath the full force of the afternoon sun, but it was simply the sunlight reflecting off the chain link barrier fencing. The crack of a ball against a bat, the rising cheers, the groan of agony as a runner was called out mixed with the wonderful sounds of the busy ballpark. These reminded Cadence, as always, of why she was here—friends, the love of sports. What better way was there to spend an afternoon?

She glanced over her shoulder to see Ben McKaslin with his son on his shoulders. Cute as a button and alight with happiness, the boy held on tight to the top of Ben's head.

Good. She was glad for him. But a hard sword of
hurt sliced her through the midsection. The past and what could have been was right there. Once she'd dreamed of being Ben's wife. Of being happy together. Of holding their baby son in her arms.

It was never your future, she reminded herself. If it had been, then God would have made it possible. The dream of a happy life with Ben had been simply her wish. Another one that had fallen like a star to the earth, incinerating as it fell.

“Hurry! The game's gonna start, and you haven't warmed up that arm of yours,” Peggy said, grabbing her by the elbow.

Somehow Cadence moved forward, one foot in front of the other. It was as if too many dreams had burned up. She found it hard to walk through the families milling around or cheering on their loved ones playing in a game. Of all the roads not taken and of all the paths God had decided were not for her, this was the most arduous one.

Loneliness filled her, but it wasn't truly loneliness at all. It was emptiness in her heart where she'd stored up all her love for a husband and family one day.

When it went too long unused, love must disappear as surely as dreams, leaving nothing in its place.

“U
ncle Ben, did you see how far I hit the ball?” Westin skipped, leading the way through the busy maze of T-ball games and the clusters of spectators that went along with each game. “It went
way
far. And fast. Like the speed of light.”

Ben laughed. “I saw it, buddy. You did great.”

“I know.” Westin skipped just a few steps ahead, tossing a softball up in the air and catching it.

Overconfident little tyke, Ben thought, unable to keep from caring about the kid a little bit more.

“You're great with him,” Rachel commented from his side. “Being with him makes you want one, doesn't it?”

“Not really.” Liar, his conscience mocked him. But that was his story and he was sticking to it. “It's hard to do your job and know your family's waiting
at home—while you're deployed most of the year—waiting to be informed of your death.”

“You've managed to stay alive all this time.” Rachel rolled her eyes, as if she wasn't fooled one bit. “I just think you'd make a great dad if you ever let yourself get close to a nice woman and marry her. You have a good heart.”

“If I ever find anyone as sweet and as good as you, Rache, then I swear I'll marry her on the spot. You're the reason I haven't gotten married. It's your fault I'm still single.”

“How is it my fault?”

“Because who could ever measure up to you?”

“There was somebody once—” Rachel turned to grab Westin's softball. “You're gonna clunk into someone if you're not careful.”

“Hey! No fair.” Westin stopped and planted both hands on his hips. His indignation was cute, and he knew it. “Can I have my ball? Please?”

“No.” Rachel stood her ground. “You'll get it back when there's no one around for you to accidentally hit.”

Ben grabbed the softball from her hand, and she hadn't even seen it coming. One moment she was gently scolding their nephew and the next she was staring at him with openmouthed accusation.

“You are in hot water, too, mister.” Rachel could pretend to be scolding all she wanted, but neither of them was fooled. She was a big softy, and he could
charm her out of any mood. “Ben McKaslin, give me that ball.”

“Nope.” He tugged on her ponytail instead, and watched a flush rise in her face. “Ah, I haven't tormented you for way too long—”

“Look out!” someone shouted from behind him, but it was too late.

He knew he was in trouble, as if an angel nudged at his shoulder, but he was already stepping toward Rachel to give her ponytail another tug. Something hit the back of his head so hard, his vision blurred, stars exploded in front of his eyes and he dropped to his knees.

Some sisters might have commented that he'd gotten what he deserved, but not Rachel. She was on her knees beside him, with a newly caught softball in her hand and brushing at his face with the other. “Are you all right? Ben? Can you hear me?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, okay.” Pain dizzied him. His stomach rolled, but everything stayed down. He pushed a hand against the ground so he wouldn't embarrass himself further by falling over. He had no idea where his crutches were. Only that his head hurt as if someone had tried to crack it open.

“I'm so sorry.” A woman's voice came from somewhere behind him. A woman's familiar voice.

If his head would stop spinning and pounding maybe he could place who the woman was. All he could do was moan and push away Rachel's offer of a paper cup full of ice. Other voices around him blurred and melded into one huge background noise. The sunlight became stabbing.

Then he gazed upward and his hazy vision blurred on a woman's form, her sleek dark hair and her heart-shaped face very familiar.

The harsh midafternoon sun blazed downward, blinding him, and the pain of the light was like a physical blow. Air whooshed out of his lungs as if he'd been sucker punched. But in that strange airless state his eyes cleared and it was Cadence he saw, hovering over him, concern soft upon her dear face. It was her voice that he heard above all others, when so many people were talking at once.

“Ben. Are you all right?” she asked softly.

No, he wasn't all right, because he was imagining her again. It had to be a concussion, he figured, or worse. What other reason could there be that he'd imagined the only woman he'd ever loved?

Only a strange misfiring of neurons, since God wouldn't be that cruel as to bring him face-to-face with Cadence Chapman one more time. To show him everything he could never have. It was like showing heaven to a condemned soul. For one millisecond he hoped she really was there, and then he tasted the bit
ter reality. The air rushed back into his lungs and his sight returned. She was not there, hovering before him like a dream.

“I'm fine, really,” he told his hovering sisters, who'd caught up with them and were getting ready to diagnose a concussion. “I have a really hard head, so I'm fine. I've taken worse blows before this.”

“That explains a lot,” the voice that was so like Cadence's commented dryly as she pressed a paper cup of ice to his head. “Feel better?”

“Heaps.”

Cadence? It was her? He watched as she knelt beside him, lithe and graceful as a ballerina, as wholesome as the girl next door, and real flesh and blood. No dream. No figment of his imagination.

What are you doing here? he wondered, but didn't ask. He could only stare in amazement as she leaned to inspect the back of his head. She smelled like those purple flowers his mom would always plant in the flower beds right up close to the house. It was a soothing scent. Lavender, that's what it was, and the scent suited her, he thought as her fingertips grazed the back of his head.

“Oh, you already have a lump there. I think you need to go to the hospital and have a doctor look at that.”

“I don't have a concussion. Did you have to be the one to hit me in the head with a ball?” He wanted to be annoyed with her.

The pain in his head was beyond annoying, but Cadence could never be. Concern softened her lovely features as she knelt close to study the size of his pupils. He hated how having her so close tugged at something within him. Like a long-forgotten door in his heart. A door he'd locked on purpose. “I've survived gunfire and grenades and explosives. A baseball is nothing.”

“Oh.” As if he'd slapped her, she jerked away. “I see. I guess you're just fine. Good. It was nice seeing you, too.”

She rose to her full height, and from his position flat on the ground she appeared taller than her petite five-three. Her dark hair whipped around her shoulders, the ends of the ponytail lashing back and forth, and she looked like an Amazon out for vengeance. Except her face wasn't fierce looking, but pitying.

Pitying. What? As if he'd turned out so bad after all? Or what? Then again, maybe it wasn't pity he was reading on her face. It was certainly something else as she dismissed him and looked over her right shoulder.

“Are you gonna hafta go into the hospital, too?” Westin had gone ashen pale as he clutched Amy's hand, snuggling up against her legs like a frightened puppy. “They got grape Popsicles there.”

The boy's words were meant to be encouraging, but Ben's chest cracked with pain. Amy had written
about the incident earlier in the summer when Westin had nearly drowned in the river. “Thanks, buddy. I'm okay. Don't you worry about me, got it?”

Westin's wide eyes remained owlish, but he nodded. “Okay, Uncle Ben. If you gotta go, me and Mom could stay with you. So you don't get scared.”

Amy knelt to draw the boy into her arms. “That's mighty brave of you, but Uncle Ben's going to be all right. We'll get some pizza and that'll fix him right up. What do you say, Ben?”

“Sure. Pizza is a respected cure for headache pain.”

Cadence felt the earth shift beneath her feet. The boy was Amy's son? Not Ben's? Her brain screeched to a halt as she watched the McKaslin clan—people she hadn't seen since high school—gather around Ben. He rose to his feet and his family handed him his crutches, concerned but hiding it behind gentle kidding comments meant to make him smile.

Ben took his crutches casually, as if they were no big deal at all, and that's when she noticed the surgical scars running up the length of his calf. And the unmistakable red-purplish round scar, about the size of a quarter, that could be only one thing—a bullet wound. He'd been injured in the line of duty. Wounded defending their country.

Respect hit her square in the chest, as if she'd been the one to take a wayward fastball. The bright
ness of the sun, the motion and activity on the fields surrounding them, the noise of the games and the scent of summer on the wind faded into nothing.

Only Ben filled the center of her senses—how he positioned the crutches and leaned on them, saying God had graced him with a hard head for a reason, reassuring Paige that he was telling the truth.

Then he turned to wink at her, as if to let her know there were no hard feelings. The breeze puffed through his short dark hair and brought her the scent of his aftershave, woodsy and crisp—the same, after all these years.

This was the man who'd abandoned her first. The one who'd said he'd never settle down. He wasn't made to be held back. He was meant for bigger and better things than being tied down to a wife and a diner the way his dad was.

It was hard not to let the anger rise, even after all these years. She'd thought she'd found peace, that she'd moved past an event that had happened almost half a lifetime ago. She'd been wrong. Forgiveness had many layers. It was hard to take a step back from the family she'd once known so well. Paige was in her late thirties now; the last time Paige had spoken to her, she'd been a young wife with a baby on her arm. The strapping teenage boy standing next to her had to be that baby son.

And Rachel and Amy had been high school and
junior high girls. Cadence wondered how so much time could slip away when she wasn't looking.

Amy took her son by the hand, and a ring sparkled on her fourth finger. Marriages and children and family—those were the things that mattered. That gave each year more precious meaning than the last.

Before the family's conversation could turn to her—they'd established that Ben was fine and Westin, who'd been hospitalized apparently, was no longer worried for his uncle's welfare—she took another step back. Her teammates were calling for her and it would be so easy to step back into the crowd and disappear without saying another word to the McKaslins.

The busyness and noise of the city's huge baseball park returned and she waved to Rachel, who appeared to be the only one noticing her departure.

An arm clasped her shoulders. It was Paige. “The last time I saw you, you were on TV wearing a shiny medal.”

When Cadence studied Paige's face, she saw there was only kindness reflected in her brown eyes, and the tension inside her eased. Whatever hard feelings there had been long ago when she and Ben broke up were not here today. Some things in the past were truly forgiven, and for that Cadence was thankful. She'd so loved Ben's sisters and, judging from the rush of affection within her, that was something that
hadn't changed either. “I was very blessed during that time in my life. How are you?”

“Surviving. This is only my second T-ball game since my boy was little, and things were different then. There were no fancy parks like this for the kids. You play on a team. How come we didn't see you last week?”

“I was out of town.”

“I hear rumors about you now and then. Traveling to events and competitions. You're doing something with the college?”

“I'm adjunct to the sports departments. I coach, since a lot of kids on the university teams used to be mine through high school.”

“Was that why you were out of town?”

“No, I went to visit a friend this time. Tell me—”

Paige was ready with another question. “A friend? I notice there's no wedding ring on your finger. Does that mean you're still looking for the right guy? Or is this friend the one?”

Was Paige fishing for information, Cadence wondered, or was she simply asking out of courtesy? “No, this is a Romanian diver I met when I was competing. Olga and I struck up a friendship.”

“Is she the one who was supposed to be your big rival?”

“There was no rivalry, although I think the media tried to put that spin on it. Diving isn't the most ex
citing Olympic sport. It's pretty peaceful, so I imagine that rumor spiced things up a bit during the coverage. But Olga and I have always had the greatest respect for one another. She's coaching in Australia now, and I had gone down to see her during the Sydney Games…it's a long story. Anyway, we've always kept in touch. She is a true friend.” One who'd stuck with her through thick and thin.

“And a great blessing.” Paige seemed to study her, as if she could see past the layers to the truth beneath. “I can't imagine your life could have been easy then, as beautifully as you dove. It must be a great relief to be back home in Montana.”

“It's where I want to be.”

“Then stop by the diner sometime when you're driving through town to see your mom. You can have a chocolate shake for old times' sake. And come and visit with me, all right?”

A sincere invitation. After all she'd been through, Cadence appreciated it. She'd learned the hard way what was truly important. “I'd like that.”

“Good. Now, you have to come to Amy's wedding.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Amy joined them. “The wedding is next month, and I'd love for you to come. I didn't know you were living back home.”

“I have a place here in Bozeman.”

“Then give me your address and I'll send an invitation.”

Amy had grown up to be such a lovely woman, Cadence thought as she waited while the sisters began digging in their purses for pen and paper.