“Thanks.” His gaze, soft but serious, swept across her face, darting once to her lips before landing on her eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He was going to be okay. She squeezed his hand. “Me too.”
Noah slid his glasses back on. “And not only because you’re allegedly a wonder in the outfield.”
“Oh, sugar, just you wait.” She winked at him as she pulled her glove from her bag and thickened her accent. “I’ve got moves you’ve never seen.”
* * *
Noah shouldn’t have worried about being rusty. But Elisa definitely should have.
So far she’d caught two of the fly balls that headed her way, dropped two others, and missed three entirely. But the crowd rallied, cheering every time she made another error. She’d finally stopped turning red and started bowing instead, causing even more uproar. They adored her.
He knew the feeling.
Noah bent over, bracing his hands on his knees as he led off from first base. They were only playing six innings, thanks to Cade’s common sense prevailing. “Come on, Trish!”
Bottom of the sixth now, they were down by two, and Trish was at bat. She was the only woman there playing in a micro tennis skirt, but she sure could run.
Cade buffed the ball on the sleeve of his shirt. “You know you only get three strikes, right?”
Trish smirked back at him. “Won’t need them.”
Cade wound the pitch and Trish hit an easy grounder past first base.
“Yes!” Noah hauled himself to second as Linc scooped up the ball in the outfield and threw it to Sawyer—but not before Trish pounded past the bag.
She tossed her flaming hair over her shoulder as she sidled back to take position on the base, winking at Sawyer. “Maybe you’ll get me next time.”
Oy. The woman never stopped, but at least it seemed like she’d given up on flirting with Noah. He turned his attention back to the mound, where Cade pitched the next underhanded ball to Zoey. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that Cade had stacked his own team with Linc, Pastor Dubois, and Sawyer, while Noah was given Zoey, Trish, and Miley—who surprisingly made a mean shortstop. Cade’s lead would have been much higher if not for Miley’s defense.
Zoey struck out, leaving him stuck on second and Trish on first with one out.
Noah clapped his hands. “It’s all right, we’ll get it back.” Hopefully, or Cade would never let him live it down.
Anticipation pulsed in Noah’s veins, and he shifted his weight, wondering how far he could lead off to third before Cade noticed. The earthy scent of the field was like a long-forgotten cologne, the adrenaline rush a legal stimulant. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, mixing with the murmurs of the crowd and the echo from cheap static-filled speakers.
He’d missed this.
Elisa stepped up next to bat, pausing to tuck her hair behind her ears. Mama D hollered something encouraging from the stands that got lost in the wind. Elisa shot him a look, and Noah nodded his confidence in her. Good grief, but she was cute in her ripped jeans and T-shirt. He kind of wanted her to hit a homerun so he’d have an excuse to publicly scoop her up on his shoulders. That parking lot hug hadn’t been enough.
She wiggled one sneakered foot into the dirt for grip as the crowd began to drumroll-stomp their feet on the bleachers. Cade threw the pitch.
“Strike one!”
Noah led off another foot. Cade cast him a warning glance over his shoulder and Noah shuffled a few inches back toward second. Pastor Dubois, playing shortstop for Cade’s team, shook his head and grinned.
Maybe Elisa had been right. Maybe stopping something didn’t equate to quitting. Noah was here, wasn’t he? He didn’t have to look back on those days on the diamond with defeat. He could simply recognize how fun it was to play. Could choose to remember whohadshown up for him all those games—Grandpa—rather than on who hadn’t. In fact, if Noah closed his eyes, he could almost still hear Grandpa’s husky voice rising above the others. “That’s my boy!”
He’d always had a home, even during those years he’d been gone from Magnolia Bay.
Maybe it really was time to make this place home again.
Crack.
He opened his eyes in time to see Elisa’s second pitch flying hard and fast toward right field. The crowd screamed. “Run!”
Noah let out a whoop and took off to third, sensing more than hearing Trish flying behind him. He slid into third, his knee scrubbing hard on the dirt as the ball whizzed past him—and kept going.
