Page 64 of Tate
She didn’t know why she’d experienced the tiniest sense of disappointment. Because yes, she was his teammate.
And frankly, she was starting to like having him around. Liked hearing him hum the songs on his playlist. Liked seeing the way he listened to her mother, even when she repeated herself. Liked coming out of the bedroom to see him stirring up eggs or oatmeal or even some kind of smoothie from the ingredients he’d picked up in Salt Lake City.
It made her feel that much safer around Axel. Although, maybe the little hairs that rose on the back of her neck when he walked into the room could be attributed to her mother’s history with men—the kind who liked to turn their attention toward her daughter—and not actual bad behavior, because Axel barely looked at her when she was in the room.
Spent a lot of time watching television.
But if Ford wasn’t leaving—and she’d attempted the slightest argument, which he shut down with a look and a shake of his head before he went to play catch with Gunnar—then she had to sort it out.
Her mother needed help—that much was clear. And that’s where her brain shut down.
Or rather, the ideas that formed were too painful to consider.
Now, as she watched Gunnar run into the dugout, grab his bat and tee up, she let thoughts roll over the possibilities.
Leave the Navy, move to Rockland, and take over her mother’s care.
She’d rather be taken by terrorists. Okay, not really, but living with Axel felt very much like living under oppression.
Move her mother—and Gunnar—to San Diego, enroll her mother in a treatment facility there. But Scarlett was gone so often, and Gunnar needed supervision. He’d invited Ford to watch his game, and by the excitement in his blue eyes when they showed up to the game today, he probably didn’t get a lot of personal fans.
“C’mon buddy, knock it out of the park!” Ford sat next to her, wearing a baseball cap, jeans, and his cowboy boots. The man fit right into the local wildlife, a few others—fathers or uncles—cheering their boys. The tiny baseball field sat outside the long school, a creek running in the distance surrounded by scrub pine and juniper. To the east, a rumple of mountains shaded the valley, and the wind swept a cool breeze across the fading day.
“Here we go, Gunnar!” she said, clapping.
The kid swung and missed, and Ford made a face.
“He’ll hit it,” she said.
“I should have taught him how to hit. We’ve spent all week working on his catch and throw?—”
She looked at him and he shrugged. “Sorry. Personality flaw. I get involved and suddenly I’m taking personal responsibility for the success and failure of the mission.”
“Operation baseball star?”
A tiny smile tugged up one side of his mouth. “Something like that, maybe.”
His gaze lingered on her a second longer, and the ump shouted, “Strike two!”
Ford turned back to the game. “C’mon, buddy! Only swing if it’s good!”
She cheered, too, especially when the ump called the next pitch as a ball.
“I’m thinking about separating from the Navy when my contract is up.”
He looked at her again, frowning. “What?”
“Ball two!”
“I can’t leave my mother alone with Axel—you’ve seen him. He doesn’t have a job—I think he lives off my paychecks, to be honest. But I’m mostly worried for Gunnar.”
“Ball three! Full count.”
She turned back to the game with a cheer for Gunnar.
But Ford drew in a long breath, as if he might be weeding through his words.
“What about…well, who would…” He took a breath then and nodded, as if backing up to form words. “We need you, Scarlett.”
