Her Cowboy Soldier by Cindi Myers Page B

the season against the Paonia Eagles. He needed to focus on baseball and the kids, and forget about Amy. Forget the way her eyes blazed and forget the soft flush of pink that rose in her cheeks as she defended herself against his accusations.
    Guilt over his angry words edged out some of his initial rage. Was she right—had his confused emotions over the woman colored his view of her work?
    Would anyone but him recognize the line about the class jock as referring to him? Almost certainly not. But why had she taken the words he’d revealed in confidence—as a friend to a friend—and used them in her article?
    Was it because she didn’t see him as a friend, only as another interview subject? Was that the real reason for his hurt and anger?
    Cody Ellinghaus, the kid who usually covered the games for the paper, had assumed his regular seat next to the dugout. “Guess you’re over your mono,” Josh said.
    “Yeah.” Cody pushed his mop of blond hair out of his eyes. “The guys keep giving me a hard time, calling it the kissing disease. I never even kissed anybody to get it.”
    “Maybe next time.”
    “I hope there isn’t a next time. Mr. Burridge really liked the stories Ms. Marshall wrote while I was gone. He said it was like something you’d read in a big-city magazine. I was afraid he was going to fire me and have her write all the school stuff.”
    “Well, I’m glad you’re back covering the games,” Josh said.
    “Me, too. Hope the Wildcats win tonight.”
    But Cody’s wish didn’t come true. Maybe they were tired from the long season, or maybe, with graduation so close, the players’ thoughts were on plans for the summer and beyond. “Get your heads in the game, guys,” Josh called after the shortstop missed a routine ground ball.
    The Wildcats ended up losing, six to nothing. “Hit the showers,” Josh said. “You all don’t need me to tell you how lousy you played tonight. You’ve got one more game to redeem yourselves before the season ends.”
    Josh retired to the dugout, ostensibly to make notes about the game, but the boys weren’t the only ones distracted today. He couldn’t get Amy off his mind.
    The whole time they’d been arguing, he’d been so aware of her—the curve of her cheek, the soft, floral scent of her. His physical response to her distracted him, even as her words aggravated him all the more. Why did she, more than anyone he’d met in a long while, get to him so badly? He’d spent months ignoring the criticism of Rick and others like him—but she’d written one story about him in a small-time weekly newspaper and it stuck like gravel in his shoe.
    Chase loped toward him and veered over to descend the steps into the dugout. “Can I talk to you a minute, Coach?”
    “Sure, Chase. What’s up?” Josh set aside his clipboard.
    Chase picked up a baseball and began kneading it, like an oversize worry bead. “I’m thinking of joining the military after graduation,” he blurted.
    Josh couldn’t hide his surprise at this revelation. “I thought you were going to play ball at Western State,” he said
    “Yeah...but Western State is so close. Not even half an hour away. I think I’d like to get farther away for a while.”
    Been there, done that, Josh thought. Though his decision to leave had come after college, he’d seen the military as an escape from the strife with his father, too. “Is this about the story in the paper—the one about the prom?”
    “No.” A hint of a smile tugged at the boy’s face. “Actually, that was kind of cool. It made me sound like a hero or something.”
    So maybe he’d been wrong when he’d told Amy she’d upset the boy. Obviously, Josh didn’t know the kid as well as he’d thought. “What’s happened to make you want to leave?” he asked.
    Chase set down the ball, any hint of mirth gone from his face. “Dad’s been drinking again. It’s been...bad.” His eyes met Josh’s and the pain there made the older man ache. “I