Making the Play (26 page)

Bethany moved behind him, her eyes tearing slightly and looking tender. She laid her hand over James' on his chest. “He's feeling your words.”

Grant wasn't sure he understood.

“He can't hear you but he can feel the vibrations on his hand when you talk. When he's sick, I sing to him a lot and he does the same thing to me. Wearing his implant microphones is sensory overload at times and this helps.” She ran the temporal thermometer over James' forehead as the child fixed his glassy gaze on her face.

Tummy hurt?
She signed. James simply nodded weakly, curling closer into Grant's chest. Bethany glanced at the thermometer. “One-­oh-­two.” She poured the medicine into a small cup and Grant helped James into a seated position to drink it. “This flu has been going around. I guess it was just his turn.”

James turned in Grant's lap to face him.
Will you stay with me?
Even the movement of his fingers seemed weak.

The pleading Grant could see in his blue eyes made it impossible for him to even contemplate leaving.
I'll be right here
, he signed back.

Bethany's fingers moved quickly as she explained to James that the medicine would help his stomach and that he should go back to sleep but the boy looked at Grant warily, as if afraid he wouldn't do as he promised and stay. Grant knew he was the only one to blame for James' distrust, just as he knew there was only one way to remedy the situation.

“Lie beside him,” he instructed Bethany, waiting for her to curl up against her son. Climbing into the bed, with the wall at his back and Bethany against his chest, he spooned behind her with his arm around both of them. “There.”

Bethany leaned on one elbow and smiled down at her son.
See? Now close your eyes. Sleep
, she signed.

James did as he was told and it was only minutes before sleep claimed the child. His lashes fanned over his rosy cheeks as he curled into his mother, tucking his hand under his chin. Grant pressed his lips to the hollow at Bethany's ear, his arm curling around her waist.

“Is this what it's like?”

She tipped her head back slightly, sighing quietly. “Sometimes. He doesn't get sick very often though.”

“You're a great mom.” He'd already told her several times but she continually astounded him.

She brushed the hair back from James' forehead. “So you've said but you've been pretty amazing yourself. Next to my Dad, you've had more influence on him than any other man.”

Grant felt the weight of her statement settle over his shoulders. He hadn't understood the full impact he'd had on James until this moment.

“Maddie said he was upset when I left.” Bethany tensed and he didn't need her to confirm it. “I'm sorry. I should have talked to you sooner, should have explained what was going on. I've made such a mess out of this.”

“No, you haven't. He's resilient. Obviously he doesn't hold anything against you or he wouldn't have let you tuck him into bed or asked you to stay. He loves you, Grant, probably as much as I do.” She glanced backward at him over her shoulder. “Maybe even more.”

Leaning over her, Grant brushed his lips against hers, but only for a brief caress. He pulled her and James closer against him, knowing without a doubt he was the luckiest man on earth.

 

Chapter Twenty-­Six

B
ETHANY STARED AT
the headline on the newspaper:
Hometown Hero Saves Hidden Falls Bobcats.

The article went on to detail how Grant had decided to return to Hidden Falls following his retirement from the NFL to coach the local high school varsity team and the high hopes they had for him to drag the team from the mire of several losing seasons. So far he'd done exactly that with an undefeated team and the league championship to be settled at the homecoming game tonight.

She didn't miss the fact that she and James had been cropped out of the photograph of Grant standing at a podium and knew it had been at his request. He'd been extremely sensitive to her desire to keep their relationship as private as possible. It wasn't that ­people didn't know they were a ­couple. As a matter of fact, it seemed to be the main topic of conversation in the small town, right up there with what sort of wild animal was killing local livestock recently, but it wasn't mean-­spirited or based on rumors. Instead, most ­people were extremely supportive, especially Grant's mother and sister, who had doted on James over the past six months. Sarah claimed James had given her a new lease on life and hadn't stopped hinting how much she'd like another grandchild running around the house to keep James company. Grant's brothers were ready to choke him for getting their mother started on the “grandmother train” again, but Grant didn't seem to care.

In fact, he'd recently mentioned to Bethany that they needed to start looking for a bigger house, one with several more rooms for the football team he wanted them to have someday. However, other than talking about their future like a far-­off idea, they'd never discussed any concrete plans about anything. Things like when he should move in instead of staying over secretly, whether James should start calling him something other than Grant and the topic of marriage were brushed under the rug.

“What do you have there?” Strong arms circled her waist and she felt his lips brush the side of her neck, scattering all thoughts.

She held up the paper for Grant to see. “Another article about the incredible Grant McQuaid and how he's going to save the day by leading his team to victory.” She turned in his arms and pressed a kiss to his waiting mouth, not caring who might see them on her front stoop. “Hopefully, you'll at least stay long enough this morning to have coffee.”

“I can. As a matter of fact, I'll even make pancakes.” He lifted her off the ground and walked with her back into the house, settling her in the entry and shutting the world out behind him. “You're still bringing James by the field after practice today, right? I promised the team he'd be there to help.”

She arched a brow. “I still don't see why you want him down there so early. He's the water boy. Won't he get in the way?”

He shrugged as if that was enough explanation. “The team likes having him in the locker room when they are getting pumped up. Besides, I think the cheerleaders want to put him on their float for the trip around the field tonight.”

Bethany frowned slightly. She wasn't sure she was ready to have her little boy riding on the back of a flatbed trailer with cheerleaders and God-­only-­knows-­who for a driver. Grant leaned forward with a chuckle, as if he could read her mind. “It's fine. Jackson will be the one driving. Relax. I wouldn't do anything that might hurt him.”

That much she knew was true. Grant had become the father figure she'd always wanted in James' life but had been too afraid to hope for, and his brothers were terrific role models for her son as well. They had taught him how to stand up to bullies without throwing a punch, and how to back it up when push came to shove as well as how to tell the difference. The same men who were teaching him how to fix ranch machinery were the same ones willing to spend hours listening to James practice reading and working on his speech. The McQuaid men were teaching her son the value of being manly but keeping a vulnerable soft side, ways to give and earn respect as well as how to fish, hunt and pee standing up.

And she'd seen Grant learn a few things along the way as well. Not only was he now practically fluent in ASL, but James was teaching him to slow down and enjoy each moment in the present instead of trying to predict a future that could change in an instant. They were bringing out the best in one another and she couldn't be happier.

Are you sure about that?

Bethany tried to cast the thought aside. She didn't want to feel ungrateful for the gift she'd been given, but she couldn't stop the discontentment from churning in her belly. She'd begun to wonder if they weren't stuck in a holding pattern, if they hadn't become too comfortable with one another and whether Grant was getting bored with the familiarity of it.

He'd been staying at his parents' ranch more often this past week, claiming it was to help his father before leaving for his job at the high school in the mornings, but she could see the hesitation in his eyes. She wanted them to find a time to talk about it, but he was too busy with coaching, not even stopping by her house until James was heading to bed most nights. He'd insisted that the two of them stay home this weekend with no interruptions. Maybe this would be the best opportunity for her to bring up her concerns.

“Sit,” he instructed. “James is getting dressed and the batter is almost ready.”

Grant slid a pat of butter onto the skillet before pouring the golden liquid over it. James' feet pounded down the staircase and she turned in her chair to see him sliding into the room in his socks.

“Hey, slow down, ace. No running in the house.”

Grant looked up from the sizzling griddle and gave James a conspiratorial wink. “Mind your Mom.”

James wrapped his arms around her neck from behind and she wondered where the time was going. He was losing his “little boy” look and starting to look more like the man he would someday become. “Sorry, I'm just excited.”

“What's got you so happy this morning?”

James slid into his chair and Grant laid a plate of steaming pancakes in front of him. The pair exchanged an odd look before James turned his attention back to her again. “It's homecoming, Mom. It's the biggest game of the season and if we win—­”

Bethany held her hands in the air. “I'm sorry for asking. Silly me,” she teased.

How was it possible that in only six months, her son had become more like Grant than he'd ever been like her? She wasn't going to complain, she thought, watching the pair discuss the game tonight over pancakes dripping with maple syrup and powdered sugar—­Grant's sugar-­bomb concoction.

This was the life she'd always dreamed of for herself and her son—­well, almost—­but she was happy. She wasn't about to let her knack for overthinking the situation ruin what they had.

G
RANT COULDN
'
T L
ET
anything distract him from the game tonight, and his years of practice tuning out the world and focusing on the task at hand should have made it easy enough, but the box in his pocket was jabbing into his leg and he couldn't think of anything but what it contained—­a vintage-­style diamond ring that he would be placing on Bethany's hand during half-­time. He'd been planning the spectacle for her over the last two months with the help of the coaching staff, his team and the head cheerleading coach. He could only pray that it was still a surprise.

Glancing over at James seated on the bench, the container of water bottles sitting on his lap, he gave the boy a thumbs-­up as the clock wound down the last few seconds of the half. James scrunched his shoulders toward his ears, excitement written plainly on his face. He'd known for over a week that Grant wanted to ask Bethany to marry him. In fact, he'd asked James' permission before they called her father together. He'd even taken James with him to select the ring. How the boy had managed to keep the secret, Grant would never know.

A buzzer sounded loudly. “And that ladies and gentlemen is the first half with your Bobcats leading twenty-­one to three.”

As the eleven players from the field jogged back to the sidelines, Grant's stomach plummeted to his toes and his heartrate sped up to triple time. The cheerleaders ran out onto the field and the trucks pulling the flatbed trailers moved onto the track inside the stadium, circling in front of the standing-­room-­only crowd, blocking the players from view. He quickly pointed at James to follow Jackson onto the field and off to one side of the cheerleaders as Grant jogged behind the bleachers where he wouldn't be seen.

The band moved onto the field and the quick drumbeats and xylophone notes of Bruno Mars' “Marry You” began to play. The floats moved past the crowd, splitting on the track so that ­people could see the band and cheerleaders perform between them in the center of the football field. Several ­people started clapping as his brother country music star Linc McQuaid walked out onto the field with a wireless mic in his hand and began singing the song.

While everyone's attention was focused on the field, Grant jogged into the stands to find Bethany in her usual seat near the fifty-­yard line. The look of surprise on her face made every bit of the secrecy over the past few weeks worth it.

“Grant? What are you doing here? Why aren't you in the locker room?”

Reaching down, he took her hand and lifted her to her feet. Before she could protest, he scooped the woman he'd come to adore in his arms and carried her down the stairs toward the center of the field. As the cheerleaders danced around them, Linc and the band finished the song.

As the last notes sounded, Grant settled Bethany on her feet again and reached behind him to turn on the headset mic he'd been fitted with before the game began. Suspicion colored Bethany's eyes and she bit her lip nervously, looking around at the crowd as if that might give her an indication of what he had in mind.

“Bethany Mills, I thought I had it all, and then I met you and James.” Grant signed as he spoke. “The two of you changed my life and made me want more. I know you don't like big productions and being the center of attention, but the past six months have been the most incredible days of my life and I want the world to know it. I want to spend every moment of every day I have left in this life with you.”

He saw Jackson nudge James from behind Bethany and the boy ran forward to reach one of his little hands into theirs. Grant reached into his pocket with his free hand and let James open the ring box as Grant dropped to one knee and the crowd around the stadium erupted in applause. Bethany lifted her free hand to her mouth, tears glistening in her eyes under the stadium lights with her hair blowing loose from under her team beanie cap.

“Bethany, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? I'll do everything in my power to make you and James happy.” James pulled his hand from Grant's and stood between him and Bethany, signing quickly.

You do.

Grant felt his heart fill with wonder for this little boy whose impulsiveness had changed his life so drastically, and he ruffled his blond hair in desperate need of a trim. “I love you, little man.”

“I love you too, Dad.” James threw his arms around Grant's neck and hugged him tightly.

Grant looked up at Bethany, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks, rosy from the crisp October night. “What about you, sweetheart?”

She pulled him to his feet and pressed a kiss to his waiting lips. “I thought you'd never ask.”

B
EN TOSSED THE
newspaper onto the kitchen table where it landed in front of Grant. “It really doesn't matter what you do, does it? You always seem to make headlines.”

Grant chuckled into his coffee mug. “Jealous?”

“Hardly.” He rolled his eyes and slumped into the chair. “This town has far bigger issues to deal with and all we keep reading about is the latest details of your love life.”

Grant felt his heart quicken at this morning's headline:
She Said Yes.

He still couldn't believe his luck. Bethany had not only agreed to marry him but to do it before Christmas at the ranch. As if he'd conjured them up by thinking about them, James' footsteps tromped into the kitchen, followed closely by Grant's bride-­to-­be. He rose and greeted her with a kiss, trying to keep a tight rein on the desire still smoldering after their private celebration last night.

“Ugh,” Ben scoffed, rising from the table. “If I wanted to see this I'd go watch a chick flick. Bethany, you've ruined my brother.”

“Jealous?” she asked with a laugh. Grant joined her.

“I asked him the same thing. He's in denial.” Grant turned his attention to James. “Jackson's got Shorty ready for you in the corral and said he needs your help today. Your mom and I have wedding plans to arrange.”

“Are you sure you want it before Christmas? That's an awfully small window to plan this.”

“I'm not waiting a single second longer than I have to for you to become Mrs. McQuaid.” Grant pulled Bethany into his arms, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure everyone for miles could hear it.

She smiled up at him, her eyes glimmering with hope. She'd endured hurt before him, undeserved rejection. He'd been cast aside and fought his self-­doubt. But together, they were more than the heart-­wrenching circumstances they faced. Grant didn't have to be a fortune teller to see the bright future ahead of them. He only had to look into her face, reflecting every emotion she felt for him, to know their marriage would withstand any obstacle that arose because their love was everlasting, and together, they'd healed one another.