“Yes, sir.”
With that settled, I jog toward the field to catch up with the team. Before I hit the turf, I look over my shoulder to find Daisy biting her lower lip, trying to contain her naughty smile. I shouldn’t have looked, because she makes it hard not to run right back to her.
“I’ll see you at home after the game,” I yell, loving that I have her to go home to.
She holds her hand up and yells, “Wait!”
Catching up to me, she uses her forefinger to beckon me. When I lean forward to hear what she has to say, she pulls my whistle over my head and puts it around her neck.
“See you at home, Coach.”
Turning on her heels, she blows my whistle and heads for the stands, leaving me stunned stupid.
Every time I think I’m about to spiral, she rights my world with a smile.
Chapter Forty-Two
Daisy
Twirling the whistle around my finger, I try not to imagine the worst. I’m wearing nothing but my baby blue boots and Owen’s whistle.
He texted twenty minutes ago to say he was on his way. His house is only five minutes from the school.
After fifteen minutes passed, my mind started racing with all the not so pleasant reasons he could be delayed. So, I called, like the crazy girlfriend I am. After what felt like a hundred rings, my call went to voicemail. So, of course, I texted. It’s been five minutes, and I still haven’t heard back from him.
Giving in to my worry, I throw on some jeans, and as I’m pulling Owen’s Support Farmers, Drink Whiskey sweatshirt over my head, I remember, we’re sharing locations. The whole family decided it was for the best when everything started going crazy. Pulling up the app on my phone, I see he’s at his mom's.
She must have called and asked him to come over after he called me, but why wouldn’t he let me know? It’s so out of character for him.
I call him again. He doesn’t answer. Slipping on my shoes, I call his mom. I know it’s late, but if Owen is there, she’s got to be awake. Right?
When she doesn’t answer, I text Livvy and then Smith, checking the app again to make sure he hasn’t moved.
The door to the garage opens. Fear grips me, but when Smith comes into view, I relax. Even though I feel like I might puke. I know something is wrong.
“Smith, did you talk to your guy at the Swifts?”
“He’s not answering.”
“Shit! We have to get over there now.”
“Ma’am, please stay in the house. Lock up behind me and set the alarm.”
“No way am I staying here if something is wrong.”
“Ma’am, I’m not asking. I would assume you would rather I find out what’s going on than argue with you about this.”
He’s right. I’m wasting precious time.
“Fine. Go. Keep me posted!”
He closes the door, yelling from the other side. “Lock the door!”
I’ve locked the door, paced the living room, gone upstairs and come down again all with Maui on my heels. I check my phone. It’s only been two minutes, and I think I might have an aneurysm. When Owen doesn’t answer another call, I can’t take it anymore. I have to go to him.
In a flash, the dog is in her crate, and since my car isn’t here, I grab the spare key to Owen’s truck and rush out the door.
I’ve got the truck in drive the instant the engine roars to life. The Swift’s Ranch is usually a twelve-minute drive from here, but I plan on making it in half that time.
