One Wish by Robyn Carr Page A

his list to research was sexual misconduct by coaches. He felt his heart race. It was everywhere. There were some horrifically wrong allegations. One female coach had her life nearly ruined by an accusation that never even went to court as her alibi was actually on film, placing her far from the alleged victim at the time; yet, years later she was still banned from certain gyms, even after the child finally recanted. It sent shudders through him. He thought a person had to be crazy to leave their child in the hands of a stranger even if he or she was a renowned coach.
    To get a reality check, he searched the same subject with teachers and it was just as shocking, some cases getting national attention and being made into television movies.
    I just thought it must sometimes be challenging...
    He closed the laptop and turned on lights around the bar, though if anyone was out in this storm, he’d be amazed. He had a lot to process. It was almost five and the sun might just be on its downward path, but with the clouds it was already dark. He got himself a beer.
    He’d known Grace for a year, maybe a little more. He only knew her superficially—he had gone into her shop to buy flowers for Iris twice and once to pick out an arrangement to be sent to his mother for Mother’s Day. He’d seen her at Cooper’s with Iris. He didn’t even really think of her as a friend but rather as one of Iris’s friends. He’d liked her but never thought about her—not before Christmas. He’d been looking right through her. He had no idea there was so much to Grace. She was amazing and complicated, part heroic, part tragic. And after last night, more woman than he ever imagined. Little virgin flower girl, a little shy, a little curious and cautious and, oh, God, so willing, trusting and sensual. So loving and innocent. She asked him to take her there, to sex and passion, then put herself in his hands. And man, what a ride.
    “She’s an athlete, you dope,” he said to no one in the bar.
    “Who’s an athlete?” Sarah Cooper asked, just coming in the door. She shook off her slicker.
    “Jesus, you scared me to death!” he said. “Where’s the baby?”
    “Finally sleeping. Ham’s babysitting.”
    “Sarah, Ham’s a dog.”
    “Best babysitter there is, trust me. He’s barely left her side since the day she was born. Don’t worry—she’s in the crib and the bedroom door is closed, but I trust Ham more than most humans. And I only came over for a second. You should close the bar. You’re wasting your time out here. This deluge isn’t exactly welcoming customers. Is there anything you need before you go? Besides to finish your beer?”
    “I’ll just make a quick phone call, maybe take a couple of little pizzas from the cooler—I have a date tonight, I hope. Thanks, I think you’re right. No one has come in since two.”
    She grinned at him, looking at the laptop. “Get your homework done?”
    “I sure did,” he said. “And it was a load, too.”
    “Thanks for helping out, Troy. Stay dry.” She pulled the hood of her slicker over her head and went out the back door.
    He picked up his phone. “Gracie,” he said. “Thanks to the weather, I’m closing up early. Would you like me to bring you dinner?”
    “I cooked! I cooked, hoping you would come here for dinner!”
    “Your kitchen is the size of my closet. What did you cook?”
    “Crock-Pot chili. A brick of cheddar and crackers. If I had a fireplace up here, it would be perfect.”
    It’s already perfect
, he thought. “I’ll be there in a little while. It sounds great.”
    He wasn’t going to tell her what he knew. He decided right then, he was going to wait for her. When she was comfortable, when she trusted him to know that part of her life, when she finally confided in him, he might tell her he’d known for a while.
Might.
    * * *
    A week later, when Troy was just packing up his papers to take home, he caught a flash of color out of the corner of his eye and