landed into the arms of a waiting wide receiver.
After several more plays, another whistle blew. Practice was over, and Emma felt a tug on her arm. Her sister was ready to leave. She ignored Allie and stared, lips parted, as the new coach ambled over and shook hands with Sheriff Gaines and the athletic director.
As a sudden breeze cut across the field, Molly began to bounce and tugged at her leash. At a sharp yelp, Allie shushed her pet, causing Emma to glance up, expecting annoyed glances at the commotion.
But Coach Boyd Thomas was walking straight toward her, a brilliant smile on his face, causing Emma to go weak all over. He was rugged and handsome, broad-shouldered and strong. His eyes, though, dealt the final blow. Dark. Passionate. More than a little dangerous.
Emma didn’t believe in love at first sight. Sure, she’d kissed her share of guys; she’d had brief crushes. But the spark never tripped like this, fireworks didn’t explode, the earth and trees never melted away.
Now it was all happening at once.
“Wolverine fan already, eh?” he said, walking over and bending to scratch the puppy’s head behind her ears. His college ring—gold signet—glinted against the dark parts of Molly’s thick coat. “We’re looking for a mascot.” He grinned. “I think she’d be perfect.”
It was the start and end of everything.
2016
“I know you aren’t telling me the whole story.” Allie frowned.
Emma waved a hand, glad the restaurant’s noise and clatter drowned out her sister’s words to anyone farther than one foot from their table. She heaved a sigh. The reaction was typical Allie, always the bleeding heart. Her sister still wanted to save the world, even when she couldn’t save herself.
“Don’t shut me out.” Allie leaned in, bending her head to get Emma’s attention. “What happened?”
Frowning, Emma looked away, pretending to study the dozens of lights strung along the pier. Allie’s persistence, all of this concerned questioning, was grating on her nerves.
Emma’s breath caught. She realized what was happening. Why Allie agreed so quickly to come to dinner. Her sister was trying to soften her up, get Emma to drop her guard. And at just the right moment, Allie would try to steal her daughter away.
Emma tightened her fists under the table. She took a deep breath. Emma would give Allie a taste of how hard she would fight to keep Caroline.
“That night . . . the night I went into the hospital.” Emma lowered her chin and made herself sniff. “Th-they had to do surgery.”
“Surgery?” Allie echoed.
Emma plucked the napkin from her lap and wiped at her eyes. “I should have told you. I just couldn’t . . . before. But I-I can’t have children. Not my own.”
An incredulous look washed over Allie’s face. “What? Oh, Emma . . .”
A sudden breeze ruffled the palm trees nearby, and the waves crashed harder in the distance. The sun had all but disappeared, causing the horizon to darken to a midnight blue.
The sky had been that exact shade the evening Emma tearfully told the police about a drifter passing through town, a grungy man in a Rolling Stones T-shirt who’d jumped in her car at the corner of Parkwood and Kemble. She said the man had pressed what she thought was a gun to her head, dragged her to Goodyear Park, and tried to rape her across from the Lutheran church. She’d fought him off until someone had driven by, scared him, and the man had taken off into the sparse woods.
The police officers nodded grimly as Emma told them she was barely able to get herself to the ER, only a block away. A day later, she sat with a sketch artist and reimagined the drifter’s face. The police had searched Brunswick and St. Simons Island, coming up empty.
Allie shivered and broke the silence. “Emma . . . I-I don’t know what to say. That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s been—” Emma brushed away an imaginary tear and sniffed, reaching for her napkin. “Difficult, to
After several more plays, another whistle blew. Practice was over, and Emma felt a tug on her arm. Her sister was ready to leave. She ignored Allie and stared, lips parted, as the new coach ambled over and shook hands with Sheriff Gaines and the athletic director.
As a sudden breeze cut across the field, Molly began to bounce and tugged at her leash. At a sharp yelp, Allie shushed her pet, causing Emma to glance up, expecting annoyed glances at the commotion.
But Coach Boyd Thomas was walking straight toward her, a brilliant smile on his face, causing Emma to go weak all over. He was rugged and handsome, broad-shouldered and strong. His eyes, though, dealt the final blow. Dark. Passionate. More than a little dangerous.
Emma didn’t believe in love at first sight. Sure, she’d kissed her share of guys; she’d had brief crushes. But the spark never tripped like this, fireworks didn’t explode, the earth and trees never melted away.
Now it was all happening at once.
“Wolverine fan already, eh?” he said, walking over and bending to scratch the puppy’s head behind her ears. His college ring—gold signet—glinted against the dark parts of Molly’s thick coat. “We’re looking for a mascot.” He grinned. “I think she’d be perfect.”
It was the start and end of everything.
2016
“I know you aren’t telling me the whole story.” Allie frowned.
Emma waved a hand, glad the restaurant’s noise and clatter drowned out her sister’s words to anyone farther than one foot from their table. She heaved a sigh. The reaction was typical Allie, always the bleeding heart. Her sister still wanted to save the world, even when she couldn’t save herself.
“Don’t shut me out.” Allie leaned in, bending her head to get Emma’s attention. “What happened?”
Frowning, Emma looked away, pretending to study the dozens of lights strung along the pier. Allie’s persistence, all of this concerned questioning, was grating on her nerves.
Emma’s breath caught. She realized what was happening. Why Allie agreed so quickly to come to dinner. Her sister was trying to soften her up, get Emma to drop her guard. And at just the right moment, Allie would try to steal her daughter away.
Emma tightened her fists under the table. She took a deep breath. Emma would give Allie a taste of how hard she would fight to keep Caroline.
“That night . . . the night I went into the hospital.” Emma lowered her chin and made herself sniff. “Th-they had to do surgery.”
“Surgery?” Allie echoed.
Emma plucked the napkin from her lap and wiped at her eyes. “I should have told you. I just couldn’t . . . before. But I-I can’t have children. Not my own.”
An incredulous look washed over Allie’s face. “What? Oh, Emma . . .”
A sudden breeze ruffled the palm trees nearby, and the waves crashed harder in the distance. The sun had all but disappeared, causing the horizon to darken to a midnight blue.
The sky had been that exact shade the evening Emma tearfully told the police about a drifter passing through town, a grungy man in a Rolling Stones T-shirt who’d jumped in her car at the corner of Parkwood and Kemble. She said the man had pressed what she thought was a gun to her head, dragged her to Goodyear Park, and tried to rape her across from the Lutheran church. She’d fought him off until someone had driven by, scared him, and the man had taken off into the sparse woods.
The police officers nodded grimly as Emma told them she was barely able to get herself to the ER, only a block away. A day later, she sat with a sketch artist and reimagined the drifter’s face. The police had searched Brunswick and St. Simons Island, coming up empty.
Allie shivered and broke the silence. “Emma . . . I-I don’t know what to say. That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s been—” Emma brushed away an imaginary tear and sniffed, reaching for her napkin. “Difficult, to
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