Slow and Steady Rush (31 page)

“Miss Ada’s largest assets were the land and the two houses. She stipulated that Dalt should be given the opportunity to buy the Wilson house and surrounding land for a very reasonable price. He’s already made arrangements with the bank.”

“How reasonable?” Darcy asked. The lump in her throat grew from a tadpole into a frog.

“Quite,” Kat said emphatically, pushing a paper toward them. Logan whistled.

Her feelings had been numbed to the point she wasn’t even sure if she was upset or happy. He’d known. Last night, he’d known and not said a word. “That’s highway robbery.”

“Very nearly,” Kat said. “The money from the sale will go to Logan. She wanted to help you along with your restaurant.”

Logan brushed at his eyes and picked at the curling wallpaper.

Kat continued, her voice tightening. “She left minor bequests to the library and the church. A relatively small amount of money will be wired to Darcy’s mother.”

“Did you talk to her? Did she ask about me?” Darcy clenched her hands around her thighs, her nails digging.

Kat chewed her lip and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Darcy.”

“I can’t believe she didn’t come back for the funeral.” Darcy gusted a sigh. Mostly what she felt was resignation tinged with disappointment. Probably every abandoned child harbored a dream of their mother sweeping in with apologies and declarations. But none of the anger or resentment of years gone by swamped her. Over the last few months, she’d kicked some of her baggage to the curb.

Kat continued. “Now, then, she left this house and accompanying land to … Logan.”

She and Logan stared at each other, both blinking like dim-witted dairy cows.

Kat spoke faster, putting space between them and the bomb she’d dropped. “Her will expressly forbids Logan to sell any of the land or the house. She wanted someone living here fulltime.”

Darcy’s breathing accelerated, and a clammy sweat broke over her forehead. “She left everything to Logan?”

“Not her books. Those are yours.”

“Her books, but nowhere to keep them,” she said with a fake, brittle laugh.

Logan grabbed her hand. “Cuz, you can stay here as long as you want. We’ll get your name put on the deed as soon as everything is finalized.” Sincerity blazed in the depths of his eyes.

“Can I stay for a while, at least?”

“As long as you want,” he repeated. “This is as much your house as mine.”

But it wasn’t. Not anymore. First Robbie, now Ada. Betrayal muffled the grief of the past days.

Chapter 24

The sharp rap on his office door startled Robbie. He was supposed to be working on the roster for the first playoff game, but instead he was thinking about Darcy. As usual. The door swung open, and Kat crossed the threshold without invitation and closed them in.

“What’s up?” His heart rate picked up, dreading a discussion about Darcy.

“Perkins has been jawing around town.”

The unexpectedness of the statement silenced him for a few beats. “About me being gay? I thought Darcy and I squashed those rumors.”

Kat shook her head. “He claims you assaulted your foster father and put him in the hospital. He’s flashing a copy of a police record of the incident to anyone who’s interested. And, friend or foe, everyone is interested.”

The unexpectedness of his past biting his ass had him pushing out of his seat. Panic welled, a whoosh filling his ears. His instinct was to run, to move on like he’d always done.

From a long way off, Kat said, “You can trust me, Dalt. Anything you say stays between us and in this room. How old were you? Was anything ever filed against you?”

Several deep breaths restored his hearing even though his heart clawed to escape his rib cage and hide under a rock. Robbie sat back down and dropped his forehead to laced fingers. Running wasn’t an option. The state playoffs loomed in a few days. Too many people were depending on him.

“I was eighteen, legally an adult. It happened the day I signed with Vandy. What should have been the happiest day of my life. The bastard came around looking for money. When I told him to go to hell, he turned ugly. Said I was a worthless piece of garbage who’d never amount to anything, my mother was a drug-addicted whore, a prostitute … pretty standard stuff. But, I’d finally had enough. All I remember is I was on top of him and couldn’t stop.”

“But you did stop.”

“Only because I thought I’d killed him.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw, the memory of his foster father’s battered face and limp body fresh and biting. He forced the rest out. “I panicked. Used his cell to call an ambulance and ran off before they got there. I ended up at my coach’s house. Of course, everyone knew I did it. My knuckles were raw. I had bruises on my face.”

“Why were no charges filed?” No judgment, only curiosity, laced her question.

“No one witnessed the beating, so my coach covered for me. He knew what my foster father had done to me when I was younger. It was wrong all the way around, but if I had been charged, my scholarship at Vandy would have been revoked. Hell, I would have served time as an adult. My foster father was a piece of shit. The cops didn’t try too hard to break my alibi.”

Kat blew out a breath. “That’s okay then.”

Robbie lifted his head and stared. “Okay? I put a man in the hospital for a week and wasn’t punished. I mean, I eventually paid his medical expenses, but I—”

She rose and pointed. “Fair warning. Perkins is threatening to start a petition to get you ousted before next season. I would suggest some PR moves on your part.”

Once he was alone, the reality of the situation settled over him like a suffocating mudslide. Everyone would find out. The librarians who had put so much hope in him, Logan, the school board members who had hired him in spite of his lack of experience, his players. But, it was the thought of Darcy that made his stomach bottom out.

He fisted his hair, the pain barely registering. He imagined her face. The disgust, the regret, the realization he wasn’t good enough for her. He’d survived a hellish childhood and the hell of war, but he wasn’t sure he could survive watching her turn and walk away from him.

It was time.

On his drive to Ada’s house, he practiced what needed to be said. His insides swooped when he saw her planting purple-and-yellow pansies around the porch. He took a deep, shuddery breath before getting out of his truck, grateful Avery’s head bobbed against his hand.

She stood up and pulled off dirt-caked gloves. A tentative smile curled her lips, crinkling the dried mud streaking one cheek. “I wasn’t sure when I’d see you again.”

The subtle dig on his predawn escape from her bed had him shifting on his feet. “We need to talk. Look, the football season’s almost over, and with Miss Ada’s passing, I’m surprised you’re out here planting flowers and not packing your car up. It’s time for both of us to move on.”

His words stole her smile. Her gaze darted to the trees and back to him, black smudges under her eyes suddenly prominent.

“What about last night?” she whispered.

He forced himself to shrug and keep his voice casual. “Last night was fun.”

“Fun?” The single word skewered him. She twisted the gloves in her hands.

“You knew what this was from the beginning, Darcy.”

“But things change, and I lo—”

“No!” He pointed his finger. “You equate sex with love. I don’t. We’ve just been having sex.”

She took a step backward, her heel smashing a purple flower. Anger brought some color back into her face. “Last night—”

“Was a sympathy fuck. That’s it. You have a life in Atlanta, and you should get back to it. There’s nothing for you here.”

“Nothing?” The stricken look on her face and the ache in her voice made him want to pull her into his arms and offer comfort for what the terrified asshole in him was doing.

“That’s right. Nothing.”

Her breath gusted out as if he’d hit her in the gut, but defiance strengthened her tone. “I got offered Ada’s job at the library. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about the other night at The Tavern.”

Was she actually thinking about staying in Falcon? For him? He probably wouldn’t even have a job after the team meeting he’d called for that afternoon. A dry, gravelly noise that was meant to be laughter left his chest. “I’ll bet you had a good laugh over that. You have a job at one of the premier universities in the country waiting. Why would you throw that away?”

“So that’s it? We’re done?” She searched his face, and his lungs tightened, only small breaths coming in and out.

He wanted to throw himself on his knees in front of her and grab her close. Ask her to stay by his side no matter what happened. But pride or stupidity or a deep-rooted unworthiness held him in place.

“I hope you’ll think of me as a friend.”

“A friend?” She chuffed, turned her back to him, and dropped back to her knees in front of the flowers, her hair hiding her face. “I’m sure Logan will be happy to have the house to himself. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Yep. Be careful driving back.” Tears stung his eyes. He backed away and slipped into this truck. With Avery’s warm body not even making a dent in his hollowing loneliness, a tear slipped out. He rubbed it away with the heel of his hand. Dammit. The cloud of dust kicked up by his truck obscured any sight of her in his rearview mirror.

In the past, he may have used anger to assuage his pain, but as the hot water of the shower poured over him, no fury came to fill the emptiness. The fissure only grew deeper with nothing to drive out the hurt.

Dressed in khakis and a Falcon shirt, he paced the kitchen, ignoring his phone. By now, the whole town would have heard about his past. The past he’d tried to atone for but could never leave behind. With one last look around, he left to face his team.

The superintendent fell into step with him on his slow walk from the parking lot to the practice pavilion where his players and fellow coaches had assembled. The man shot him a small smile with raised eyebrows.

Robbie stopped and rolled his shoulders. “I suppose you’ve heard.”

“Perkins made sure I did.” Robbie couldn’t detect a hint of anger or disappointment in the man’s voice. Maybe he expected Robbie to deny everything.

Robbie swallowed. “From what I can tell, everything he’s saying is true. I assaulted my foster father and wasn’t charged.”

The man picked at a fingernail, his gaze down. “So you weren’t punished?”

Being charged for his crime and being punished were two different beasts. “No charges were filed. I paid him back for any medical expenses he incurred. And I’ve lived with the regret of my actions. If I could take it all back … Is the board asking for my resignation?”

“Heavens no. As your friend, Ms. Renshaw kindly pointed out, no charges were filed, therefore we don’t have due cause.” His voice veered toward sardonic. “Anyhow, everyone felt a need to express their opinions to me. All. Day. Long. Miss Constance and her cane were the most aggressively supportive. I’m here to make sure everyone knows I have your back.”

The man held out his hand for a shake, and light-headed, Robbie returned it. The superintendent patted his shoulder and got them moving again. Robbie said, “I called a team meeting.”

“Yep. Heard that too.”

Still in a state of mild shock, Robbie huffed a laugh. He stepped into the meeting room, and the buzz of conversation crescendoed before dipping into a heavy silence. Throats cleared and feet shuffled as he made his way to the front. Perkins stood to the side, his smile distorted by the chew pooching his lip.

Robbie tripped over his words at the beginning, but as he came clean with his players, the power his past held over him faltered. Once the facts had been laid out, he made eye contact with as many players as possible. “My mistake is why I’m tough on you boys. One act of poor judgment can alter your lives forever. And even though I wasn’t charged, don’t think I haven’t paid a steep price. Anyone have any questions?”

Boys shifted and a low murmur filled the room. Tyler raised his hand. Robbie chucked his chin, and Tyler asked, “What’s the game plan Friday night? How’re we going to kick those Raiders’ asses back to Huntsville?”

Whoops and catcalls erupted. Someone started a Falcon chant. Logan clapped him on the shoulder and slipped the folder of new plays into his hands, a smile on his face. Robbie stood in the sea of noise.

It was over with no bloodshed and his job intact. He’d underestimated them. What if he’d underestimated Darcy too? Maybe she could truly love him. If he hadn’t already screwed it up and turned her love into hate.

#

Darcy stomped up the porch steps and tried unsuccessfully to rip the screen door off its hinges. Kat followed her inside, chewing on a fingernail and pulling at her hair. “I shouldn’t have told you, should I?”

“No. He should have told me, the jerk-face. But, instead, he dumped me.”

If Robbie Dalton stood in front of her, she’d punch him in the face or maybe knee him in the nuts. Yep, nuts sounded more satisfying. Then she’d throw herself at him and kiss him until he agreed he was an idiot.

His announcement they’d only been fuck buddies had jolted her, but even as she processed his hurtful words, his face conveyed a contradictory message. Somewhere under the nonsense he had spouted in her front yard was the man who’d confessed the pain of his childhood, the man who’d dropped everything when Ada died, the man who’d slept on her couch when she didn’t want to be alone, the man who’d made love to her with such passion and care. That was the man she loved.

His foster father was a total bastard. Did he think she would react with prim horror at his loss of control? He had only been a kid. Did he have no faith in her? The answer to that was obviously a resounding yes. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have been Kat standing in her yard spilling her guts.

Darcy yanked a suitcase out of the closet and threw clothes inside, not bothering to fold or organize them. If she ended up with fifteen shirts and no panties, so be it. Kat grabbed the T-shirt in Darcy’s hand and as they played tug of war said, “Don’t go. Give him another chance.”

“Whose side are you on? He dumped me. And, trust me, it was harsh. I need time.” Time away from everyone’s well-meaning meddling, away from Falcon, but mostly away from Robbie. A psychology book on the workings of the male mind would be nice too.