Montana Mornings (The Wildes of Birch Bay Book 3) Page 3

  Within minutes of hearing the news of the open position, he’d understood that he now wanted more. He wanted the chance to prove himself. The problem with hiring him, however, lay in the fact that even though he’d been around the system for years, he’d never actually played football in high school.

  His younger brother Cord had, and Cord had ridden a scholarship into premed.

  But Gabe? Not even for one season.

  Though he’d been a star player in junior high, their mother had tied Gabe to the sidelines his freshman year. She’d been a stereotypical narcissist. Life had been all about her. So when Gabe had begun getting a lot of attention, she’d made sure to put a stop to it. She’d claimed a falling-out with the coach, and had announced that her firstborn son couldn’t possibly play for someone like that.

  Of course, the same hadn’t applied to his brother. Cord had come along the following year, and not a word had been said about him quitting. She’d also never attended any of Cord’s games.

  Disgust enveloped him. She’d never cared for him, no matter how she’d acted. Just like she hadn’t cared for his five siblings. And damn, but he’d known it, even back then.

  His mother had treated him differently than his brothers and sister for the most part, and though no one had ever called her on it—or diagnosed her disease until after she’d died—he’d known that at times he’d been held up as the favored one. And the thing was, he’d silently enjoyed it. He’d even gone along with the majority of her decisions—no matter how irrational—because he didn’t want to lose that favoritism.

  But he sure as hell hadn’t understood at the time how her actions were affecting him.

  He pushed away thoughts of his mom and checked his watch. Jenna should have been there by now. Hannah was supposed to pick her up at her school and immediately bring her over.

  So then, where were they? And should he go look for them?

  I’ll take good care of her.

  Erica’s words from that morning echoed in his head—as well as the casual way she’d dismissed him from her room. He ground his teeth together. He didn’t need or want anyone else “taking good care” of his daughter. That was his job.

  But also, what in the world was Erica Yarbrough doing in Birch Bay?

  Bird. She was Erica Bird now.

  Only, she wasn’t married anymore.

  The classroom door opened once again, and this time when Gabe swung his gaze in that direction, the first thing he saw was blonde hair, now slightly drooping from its original perch.

  “Daddy.” The word came out more a sigh of relief than an expression of excitement as Jenna ran to him. She was halfway up his body, the tension in her limbs holding her in place, before his arms could close around her. He glanced at Hannah, and the worry darkening the other girl’s eyes only added to his.

  “How was school?” He drew back, taking in the pinched corners of his daughter’s mouth.

  “Fine.”

  At the shortened, one-word answer, he looked at her babysitter again but continued speaking to Jenna. “Did you have any trouble finding Miss Hannah after the bell rang?”

  “No.” Jenna peered over his shoulder. The players had gone quiet behind him, as if waiting their turn for Jenna’s attention. Some of the older guys remembered his daughter from when he’d helped with the team before, while the others had met her when she and Hannah had stopped by practice a couple of times the week before. Several of them had become her instant buddies.

  She giggled at something one of them must have done behind him.

  “Jenna,” Gabe said, attempting to snag his daughter’s attention, but she ignored him. “Tell me about your day.” Had something gone wrong? The tension still running through her body worried him. “How did you like Ms. Bird?”

  “Can I go talk to Chase?” With this, she finally looked at Gabe. Her eyes had gone flat, and Gabe held in his sigh. He couldn’t tell if there had been a real problem with school or if Jenna was simply freezing him out. They went back and forth from her seeming to be on his side, the two of them against the world together, to her wanting nothing to do with him.

  “Sure you can,” he answered, and she immediately wriggled out of his arms. “But only for a minute. The guys have to get out to the field before their big bad coach shows up.”

  He didn’t get the laugh he’d wanted from his daughter, but several of the guys snickered under their breaths. Chase reached out a hand for Jenna. “Come hang out with us, Pigtails. We’ve been waiting for you.”

  Gabe watched as the guys in his classroom came together, all of them focusing their attention on his daughter, and he couldn’t miss the way her eyes lit up.

  Turning back to Hannah, he spoke in a low tone. “What happened today?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing that she told me about. But she didn’t want to leave when I got there. She wouldn’t even consider it until Dani showed up. And then she wanted to go home with Dani and Haley.”

  “She threw a fit?”

  “An impressive one.”

  Gabe eyed his daughter again. Hannah had been working for them for the last couple of weeks to help get Jenna acclimated to a routine, so she wasn’t unaware of the tantrums Jenna could throw when she put her mind to it. It was yet another change to Jenna’s personality that had taken place since last Christmas.

  “In fact,” Hannah continued, “it was her teacher who finally convinced her to come with me.”

  Gabe frowned. “Erica?”

  Hannah’s brows went up at his use of Erica’s first name. “Ms. Bird, yeah. But it wasn’t just that she convinced her to go with me, but how easily she diffused the situation. It was effortless.” Hannah watched Jenna, and Gabe didn’t miss the fondness on the girl’s face for his daughter—nor the awe in her voice for Jenna’s teacher. Hannah planned to graduate with an elementary education degree from U of M in Missoula. “Ms. Bird was impressive.” She turned back to Gabe. “Did you know she’s won teacher of the year twice?”

  He rocked back on his heels. He’d had no idea. “She told you that?”

  “No, but I looked her up after you sent me her name. Impressive. You’re lucky to have her here for Jenna.”

  “She’s only staying for a couple of months.” He frowned at the unintended shortness to his words and ignored the curious glance Hannah shot his way. She hadn’t meant to imply that he couldn’t handle Jenna on his own, he knew that. And the fact was, she was right. A multi-winning teacher of the year . . . Jenna was lucky to have Erica. No matter how temporary.

  “Well, I hope she sticks around after Mrs. Watts returns,” Hannah added. “Even if it’s only as a substitute. With any luck, a position will open up next year, and we can keep her.”

  Gabe didn’t reply. Instead, his mind chose that moment to rewind to the day he and Erica had broken up. He’d dumped her the night he’d returned from spring break his senior year. After spending the week in LA with his now-brother-in-law, Ben. And with Michelle.

  He’d met Jenna’s mother that week, and man, he’d been smitten. They’d done little more than hang out. And flirt, of course. Heavy flirting. Yet, it was almost as if Gabe had to be with her after that. Not that he’d told Erica any of that, of course.

  Instead, he’d taken her out to dinner that night, prepared to give her the we’ve-grown-apart speech. She’d been living an hour from campus at that point, putting in her semester of student teaching, and they’d been growing more distant since Christmas. But he’d barely gotten to his practiced speech before she’d nodded in agreement. It had been time to part ways.

  Then he thought about the day he’d first met her. And he wondered how he could have ever chosen Michelle over Erica.

  “Come on, Jenna.” Hannah interrupted his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. Several of the guys had already left the room, and it was time for Hannah and Jenna to head home.

  “I don’t want to,” Jenna replied. She didn’t even look their way. Remaining at Chase’s side, she took
a step closer to the boy, and Chase’s ears pinkened when she wrapped an arm around his leg.

  “I’ve”—Chase gulped nervously—“got to go change for practice, Jenna.”

  “Then I’ll come watch you practice.”

  “You can’t stay today,” Gabe interjected.

  “But, Dad.” She still didn’t look at him.

  “No buts. We have a very important practice this afternoon. Our first game is Friday night, and we need to be prepared.” He glanced at Chase and nudged his chin toward the door. “Go on. She’ll be fine.”

  “Why can’t I stay?” Jenna whirled on him.

  Gabe crossed to his daughter and squatted to be on the same level with her, but he waited until the last of the players had left the room before speaking. “This is why Miss Hannah is here, remember?” He gave his daughter an encouraging smile. “She’ll keep you company after school so you won’t get lonely until I get home.”

  “But I won’t be lonely at practice.” Jenna’s eyes flashed hot. “I won’t be any trouble, either, so why can’t I stay? I don’t want to go home.” Her voice rose, and Gabe caught movement out of the corner of his eye as Hannah neared. But before either of them could say anything else, Jenna sprinted across the room. “I’ll be good,” she shouted. “I promise. I won’t even talk to nobody. Just let me stay, Daddy. Please!”

  Guilt squeezed his chest as his daughter literally huddled in the far corner of the room. The poor kid blamed herself for the divorce. For Michelle not loving her enough.

  Or so her counselor said.

  But her counselor had also made it clear that one of the best things for her was having a schedule. Loving support, of course, but also defined rules. And that meant that sitting on the sidelines every day, waiting on her father, wasn’t in the plans.

  When silent tears began to spill over her cheeks, Gabe sighed. He stood and held both arms out to his sides in defeat. “Fine.” Jenna’s sobs immediately ceased. “You can stay. But only for today.” He looked at Hannah, ignoring the inner voice asking if he’d just been played. “You’re good with sticking around here today?”

  The teen nodded, but he saw the flash of disapproval before her gaze dropped.

  When Jenna marched to Hannah’s side without another word and took her hand, smiling brazenly up at the girl, Gabe suspected Hannah’s disapproval might be well placed. He shouldn’t have given in.

  But how was he supposed to watch his daughter cry and not do anything about it?

  Chapter Three

  The glowing red numbers of the scoreboard read 1:06 remaining in the fourth quarter, the score 49–7. Birch Bay was not in the lead.

  Gabe ran his hand over the back of his neck as he studied the defensive setup on the field. Everything had gone so well during practices.

  The other team punted . . . and the quarterback took a knee. And Gabe blew out a relieved breath. They were putting Gabe and his guys out of their misery. Between the time provided between each play, and the number of punts remaining before turning the ball over, the clock would run down to zero. Thank goodness. It was one thing to be outplayed, but entirely another to be outcoached, and Gabe had no doubt where blame lay for tonight’s massacre. He also wasn’t entirely sure another week of practice would change enough before the next game.

  What had he been thinking to ask for the job? He could single-handedly destroy every one of these boys’ chances to play at a higher level. And for what? To prove he was worth something?

  The sour burn of bile lined the back of his throat as he crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the visiting team to let the seconds tick down, then he took part in the end-of-game ritual of shaking the other team’s hands. The cherry on top of the night came when the opposing coach slapped Gabe on the back in an I-feel-for-you kind of way.

  The guys headed for the locker room, their long faces showcasing matching disgust with the night, and Gabe hung back, giving them time to hash it out among themselves before he and his assistant coach followed. There was no need to hurry. What was he going to say to them, anyway? That with any luck the school board would fire him before the next game?

  The negative talk ticked him off as badly as the embarrassing loss had. What he needed to be doing was focusing on how to fix the situation, not on beating himself up. His skills needed work. Quick. And he could do with a new assistant, as well—or three. The entire coaching staff had been fired along with the head coach, and only one had been hired along with Gabe. And though the other man had experience at the junior high level, he’d seemed as out of his element as Gabe had tonight.

  Gabe stooped to retrieve a water bottle that had fallen between the benches, and when he stood he forced himself to take in the reality facing him on the other side of the football field. There were embarrassingly few residents making their way off the bleachers. Most of them had gone home long ago.

  Birch Bay had a reputation for a high-quality team, and the entire town made a habit of coming out to cheer them on. Rarely did anyone leave before the clock ticked down to zero.

  He spit out a curse. Common sense had him following the curse word, however, with silent thanks that the Boise recruiter hadn’t chosen tonight to come out. Had he, Chase’s chances of a scholarship from his top pick would have been blown.

  Gabe tossed the water bottle to the team manager as the lanky sophomore finished gathering the scattered equipment, then stood, his gaze on the dispersing crowd, and thought about the fact that he hadn’t seen one particular new resident of the town at tonight’s game. Which had surprised him. Erica had enjoyed the sport in college. They’d gone to every home game while they’d been dating and some of the away ones. She’d even been a cheerleader in high school.

  So then, why hadn’t she come out tonight? Surely she’d known there was a game. It was hard to miss in a town the size of Birch Bay.

  The more pressing question, though, was why had he caught himself searching the faces of the crowd for her? Whether Erica took part in town gatherings or not, it mattered nothing to him. She was his daughter’s teacher.

  Temporary teacher.

  And that was her importance in his life at this point.

  His cell vibrated, bringing him back to the moment at hand, and he realized the bleachers were now completely empty. The concession stand had closed up, and his assistant coach waited for him off to the side of the stands. Enough stalling. It was time to put the first game behind them.

  Turning for the locker room, Gabe pulled his phone out to find a text from Cord.

  Tough one tonight. Want to go over it tomorrow?

  Cord was one year younger than Gabe, an up-and-coming doctor in a high-profile clinic in Billings, and was way too busy to worry with helping his older brother out simply because Gabe had gotten in over his head. Gabe thumbed out a reply.

  Definitely. Need to watch the video first, and we’re moving into the new place in the morning. Call you tomorrow night?

  Sounds good. Good luck with the new house.

  He tucked the phone away, nodded to his assistant, and together they made their way in to join the team. It was one game. Gabe wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet.

  Week one was in the books, and everything at school had gone exactly as planned. The principal had been pleased with her efforts, the majority of the kids were fully engaged in learning, and Erica had even planted the seeds of friendships with a couple of the other teachers. In the span of a few days, she’d already accomplished exactly what she’d set out to do when she’d moved there. Same teacher, same teaching style. Same Erica.

  Yet all the “rightness” aside, she found herself hesitating on calling the week a resounding success. Something seemed off.

  Or heck, possibly everything was off. She simply didn’t know.

  She chewed the inside of her lip as she tapped the brake pedal, motioning for the oncoming car to turn off the highway in front of her, then followed along behind it, heading for her rental on the dead-end street. She
wound through the late-afternoon shadows of the pines, cracking the window to take in the smells, and as sunlight flickered across her windshield, a different emotion settled around her. A kind of calmness she’d never expected to find there. She might feel out of sorts in her new position, but she couldn’t say that her unease had anything to do with the town itself. She liked Birch Bay.

  She’d just spent her Saturday morning exploring the region, checking out the shops and small eateries she’d found along the drive around the twenty-seven-mile-long lake. Time had then stretched into afternoon as she’d run errands in town before spending another hour exploring the local shops. And not once had she encountered anything about the place that she didn’t like.

  So what, then, had her tied in knots? Was it merely the lack of having family nearby?

  Possibly. Other than college, she’d never lived anywhere but Silver Creek. And granted, she was only three hours from home now. She could go for a visit anytime she wanted.

  But living in Silver Creek and being only three hours away were still two totally different things.

  Could her issue, then, be guilt for leaving her family?

  She pursed her lips at that. Guilt had taken up permanent residence inside her, but her current worries didn’t seem to stem from that.

  It could be from fear of what would come next, though. She had absolutely nothing lined up for after she finished her contract here, and not having a plan—or a full-time job—was not something she was comfortable with. Heck, quitting her secure position with little more than twenty-four hours’ thought and moving away from all she’d ever known wasn’t something she was comfortable with. Yet none of those possibilities gave voice to the nagging sensation that seemed to be sitting just out of her reach.

  She rounded the final curve, catching the flash of Flathead Lake up ahead, and sucked in a deep breath as if she could inhale the peace of the water. The lake was one of the best things about being a resident here. A person didn’t have to go far to catch glistening water winking between the many trees. The diamond-like sparkle had a soothing effect, and she’d found herself more than once in her first week on the job taking in the last minutes of daylight from a weather-worn bench at the edge of the lake. Her hometown or not, Birch Bay was a beautiful little place.