LITMIR.BIZ

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at school.

      As her nephew approached the house, Lucy stepped away from the window. She wanted to make sure his smile remained. No matter what it took.

      Manny rubbed against her leg. Birdlike chirping sounds came from his mouth. Strange, but not unexpected from a cat that barked when annoyed.

      “Don’t worry, Manny.” She touched the cat’s back. “Connor will be home in three … two … one …”

      The front door flung open. Manny dashed for the outside, but Connor closed the door to stop his escape.

      “Aunt Lucy.” His blue eyes twinkled. So much like Aaron. Same eyes, same hair color, same freckles. “I found someone who can coach the Defeeters.”

      She should have known Connor’s change of attitude had to do with soccer. Her nephew loved the sport. Aaron had coached his son’s team, the Defeeters, since Connor started playing organized soccer when he was five. A dad had offered to coach in Aaron’s place, but then had to back out after his work schedule changed. No other parent could do it for a variety of reasons. That left the team without a coach. Well, unless you counted her, which was pretty much like being coachless.

      The thought of asking her ex-husband to help entered her mind for about a nanosecond before she banished it into the far recesses of her brain where really bad ideas belonged. Being back in the same town as Jeff was hard enough with all the not-so-pleasant memories resurfacing. Lucy hadn’t seen him yet nor did she want to.

      “Fantastic,” she said. “Who is it?”

      Connor’s grin widened, making him look as if he’d found a million-dollar bill or calorie-free chocolate. He shrugged off his backpack. “Ryland James.”

      Her heart plummeted to her feet. Splat! “The Ryland James?”

      Connor nodded enthusiastically. “He’s not only best player in the MLS, but my favorite. He’ll be the perfect coach. He played on the same team with my dad. They won district and a bunch of tournaments. Ryland’s a nice guy. My dad said so.”

      She had to tread carefully here. For Connor’s sake.

      Ryland had been a nice guy and one of her brother’s closest friends. But she hadn’t seen him since he left high school to attend the U.S. Soccer Residency Program in Florida. According to Aaron, Ryland had done well, playing overseas and now for the Phoenix Fuego, a Major League Soccer (MLS) team in the U.S. Coaching a recreational soccer team comprised of nine-year-olds probably wasn’t on his bucket list.

      Lucy bit the inside of her cheek, hoping to think of something—anything—that wouldn’t make this blow up in her face and turn Connor’s smile upside down.

      “Wow,” she said finally. “Ryland James would be an amazing coach, but don’t you think he’s getting ready to start training for his season?”

      “MLS teams have been working out in Florida and Arizona since January. The season opener isn’t until April.” Connor spoke as if this was common knowledge she should know. Given soccer had always been “the sport” in the Martin household, she probably should. “But Ryland James got hurt playing with the U.S. Men’s Team in a friendly against Mexico. He’s out for a while.”

      Friendly meant an exhibition game. Lucy knew that much. But the news surprised her. Aaron usually kept her up-to-date on Ryland. Her brother would never let Lucy forget her schoolgirl crush on the boy from the wrong side of town who was now a famous soccer star. “Hurt as in injured?”

      “He had surgery and can’t play for a couple of months. He’s staying with his parents while he recovers.” Connor’s eyes brightened more. “Isn’t that great?”

      “I wouldn’t call having surgery and being injured great.”

      “Not him being hurt, but his being in town and able to coach us.” Connor made it sound like this was a done deal. “I bet Ryland James will be almost as good a coach as my dad.”

      “Did someone ask Ryland if he would coach the Defeeters?”

      “No,” Connor admitted, undaunted. “I came up with the idea during recess after Luke told me Ryland James was at the fire station’s spaghetti feed signing autographs. But the whole team thinks it’s a good idea. If I’d been there last night …”

      The annual Wicksburg Fire Department Spaghetti Feed was one of the biggest events in town. She and Connor had decided not to go to the fundraiser because Dana was calling home. “Don’t forget, you got to talk to your mom.”

      “I know,” Connor said. “But I’d like Ryland James’s autograph. If he coaches us, he can sign my ball.”

      Signing a few balls, mugging for the camera and smiling at soccer moms didn’t come close to the time it would take to coach a team of boys. The spring season was shorter and more casual than fall league, but still …

      She didn’t want Connor to be disappointed. “It’s a great idea, but Ryland might not have time.”

      “Will you ask him if he’ll coach us, Aunt Lucy? He might just say yes.”

      The sound of Connor’s voice, full of excitement and anticipation, tugged at her heart. “Might” likely equaled “yes” in his young mind. She’d do anything for her nephew. She’d returned to the same town where her ex, now married to her former best friend, lived in order to care for Connor but going to see Ryland …

      She blew out a puff of air. “He could say no.”

      The last time Lucy had seen him had been before her liver transplant. She’d been in eighth grade, jaundiced and bloated, carrying close to a hundred pounds of extra water weight. Not to mention totally exhausted and head over heels in love with the high-school soccer star. She’d spent much of her time alone in her room due to liver failure. Ryland James had fueled her adolescent fantasies. She’d dreamed about him letting her wear his jersey, asking her out to see a movie at the Liberty Theater and inviting her to be his date at prom.

      Of course, none of those things had ever happened. She’d hated being known as the sick girl. She’d rarely been able to get up the nerve to say a word to Ryland. And then …

      The high-school soccer team had put on two fundraisers—a summer camp for kids and a goal-a-thon—to help with Lucy’s medical expenses. She remembered when Ryland handed her the large cardboard check. She’d tried to push her embarrassment and awkwardness aside by smiling at him and meeting his gaze. He’d surprised her by smiling back and sending her heart rate into overdrive. She’d never forgot his kindness or the flash of pity in his eyes. She’d been devastated.

      Lucy’s stomach churned at the memory. She wasn’t that same girl. Still, she didn’t want to see him again.

      “Ryland is older than me.” No one could ever imagine what she’d gone through and how she’d felt being so sick and tired all the time. Or how badly she’d wanted to be normal and healthy. “He was your dad’s friend, not mine. I really didn’t know him.”

      “But you’ve met him.”

      “He used to come to our house, but the chances of him remembering me …”

      “Please, Aunt Lucy.” Connor’s eyes implored her. “We’ll never know unless you ask.”

      Darn. He sounded like Aaron. Never willing to give up no matter what the odds. Her brother wouldn’t let her give up, either. Not when she would have died without a liver transplant or when Jeff had trampled upon her heart.

      Lucy’s chest tightened. She should do this for Aaron as much as Connor. But she had no idea how she could get close enough to someone as rich and famous as Ryland James.

      Connor stared up at her with big, round eyes.

      A lump formed in her throat. Whether she wanted to see Ryland James or could see him didn’t matter. This wasn’t about her. “Okay. I’ll ask him.”

      Connor

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