Page 28 of Fielder's Choice


  The smile on Sophie’s face was worth Matt canceling the driver he’d scheduled and going to the ranch to pick her up himself. His house was surprisingly empty with her away at camp during the week. He’d found himself counting the days until he could pick her up and bring her home for the weekend. There was no way he’d be sending her off to boarding school, no matter how tough it’d be to juggle his life.

  “Missed you,” she said.

  “Me too.” He lifted her and swung her around. “Three more months until the season’s over.”

  “I made two new friends, Brandon and Liesha. They were on your team. Brandon helped capture the flag, remember?”

  He didn’t. All he remembered from that day—was it only two weeks ago?— was the blaze of heat and lust that had shot through him when he’d first kissed Alana. That and the stripped-raw feeling he’d had as he’d driven away from the ranch that evening. She’d cracked him open, and he hadn’t yet seamed himself back up.

  He put Sophie’s things in the trunk and belted her into the back seat. He glanced around the parking lot, looked up toward the house, and then back at the frantoio and the building housing the ranch offices.

  No Alana.

  He’d imagined giving her a piece of his mind for disappointing Sophie. For being flighty and irresponsible. But that wasn’t all he’d imagined. The woman had slipped into his head. No matter how he tried to control his thoughts, images of her popped up at the most inconvenient times. He’d even found himself in front of his computer studying up on windmills and county regulations. Ridiculous.

  He pulled out of the drive still looking in his rearview mirror, still not sure what he wanted to see.

  “Guess what?” Sophie searched in her backpack and pulled out a crumpled envelope. “Alana showed up and she had a special drawing that she made of a fairy. Dad, it looked like a real fairy. She’s really good. It had sparkles and everything. And she took me down to the pond, and Peg and Gustavo and me, we all worked on getting the plants in. And Alana put the stone I gave her in the middle of the fairy village. Right in the very middle. It was perfect and—Dad, are you listening?”

  “Yeah, honey. I’m listening.”

  “And then she gave me the little drawing. It’s in my tent. And she gave me this to give to you. She said you’d really like what’s in it, that she had you in mind.”

  Sophie handed him the crumpled envelope. He put it in his pocket.

  “Aren’t you going to read it?”

  “Honey, I’m driving,” Matt said. The enthusiasm in Sophie’s voice was a good thing. But the warning he felt in his gut about the envelope he’d just pocketed was not a good thing. He’d read it in private.

  “No Mrs. Wallenberg tonight, Punkin,” he said as they walked into their townhouse.

  Sophie let out a whoop of delight.

  “No Mrs. Wallenberg means pasta and canned tomato sauce,” he warned.

  “And popcorn and a movie. Can I pick the movie?”

  “Anything but The Princess Bride.” He wasn’t sure he could take a twentieth viewing. “But she’ll be back for the weekend. I have a doubleheader tomorrow and a day game on Sunday.”

  Later that night, after he’d tucked Sophie into bed, he walked to his study and pulled the crumpled enveloped from his pocket.

  A Special Event at the Tavonesi Olive Ranch to benefit the Summer Camp Scholarship Fund of the Boys and Girls Club. The words were blazoned across the cream card stock in big, bold letters.

  Perhaps Alana was trying to make amends. Her efforts on the butterfly garden with Sophie sent a clear message, but this stunt was over the top. And using Sophie to send the message was out of bounds. Still, the woman knew how to turn a play, even if it didn’t change anything. She was still the same person she’d been the day she’d driven off and left Sophie disappointed. A disappointment was something a kid could handle. But someday, if things went on like they were, Alana would break her heart.

  Or was it his heart he was worried about?

  He connected to the website reply form listed on the invitation and was relieved when all he had to do was check off the box that said No. He left the comment section blank. What he had to say wouldn’t have fit into such a small space.

  He clicked off his computer and picked up his guitar. He strummed for a few minutes, but the familiar melody and the playing brought him no comfort. Another strike against Alana Tavonesi. Since meeting her, he couldn’t even enjoy the activities that used to ease the ache of his loneliness.