Chapter 19

The next few weeks were busy. I worked at the fire station, grabbed a few hours of sleep, then helped out on the farm on my days off and in the evenings. I didn't take on as many substitute teaching positions because I didn't have the time.

At practice, we were gearing up for the playoffs. Our record was only .500, which meant we'd lost as many games as we'd won. Some of the parents weren't happy about it.

Brian had expressed his displeasure that I let every kid have an opportunity to play. He wanted me to play the best athletes and let everyone else sit the bench.

Owen hadn't caught a ball in a game yet. Part of it was that Bryce wasn't throwing to him often, and the other part might have been because he didn't believe in himself. He was improving at the quarterback position, but I worried he'd never get an opportunity to play because Bryce was better.

Owen worked one night on the farm during the week. Due to the football schedule, it fell on the same night I worked at the fire station. He also worked another few hours on the weekend.

When Claire picked him up, she'd drop off a casserole for the family, knowing we were too busy to do more than eat sandwiches and pizza.

I hadn't spent more than a few minutes with her in weeks, and it sucked. I wanted more time with her, not less.

I wished Teddy would let Charlotte work her magic. I was all for bringing in more income when it wasn't me working more hours.

I missed teaching and resented that the farm was taking me away from that and Claire.

One day, I was setting up freshly cut trees in the lot when Dad stopped to talk. "You've been grumpy lately."

I let out a breath, deciding to be honest. "I haven't been teaching as much. I miss it."

Dad considered me for a minute and I braced myself for a negative comment about how I spent my spare time. "Have you thought about getting your teaching certificate?"

"I'm already working full-time at the fire station." I set up one tree, taking a few seconds to walk around it.

"That one's a beauty," Dad said.

"I almost didn't want to cut it down. But it will be sold in no time."

Dad helped me grab a second tree from the bed of my truck. "Do you enjoy teaching more than firefighting?"

"Why are you asking? I thought you wanted me to be a firefighter."

We set the second tree in a stand. "It's not about what I want. Other than wanting you to be happy."

His comment made me uncomfortable. I was used to my family assuming I was immature and irresponsible. They never mentioned wanting to see me happy in my chosen profession. They just wanted me to choose one, and I had. Now I needed to prove myself by sticking with something for once. "I just wish we could hire more help here on the farm."

Dad nodded. "I'm not getting any younger."

"Have you had any progress with Charlotte? Has she revealed her report yet?" I'd seen her around the farm observing how things were run, and she'd asked some questions about it.

"She said she's sending it this week," Dad said as we grabbed another tree out of my truck.

"I hope she has some ideas we can work with."

Dad grunted when he grabbed his end of the tree, reminding me he was getting too old for the heavy lifting. "You're not the only one. The challenge will be getting Teddy to go along with it."

"Maybe we need to overrule him. We have to do what's best for the farm and for you," I said.

Dad frowned. "I don't think he wants Charlotte living in the cottage."

"Why not? He doesn't live here, and it's tucked away from the rest of the farm. He's not likely to run into her much."

His brow furrowed. "I think it's the idea of letting someone else live here. Someone who's not a Calloway."

I shook my head. "And she's a Monroe."

"He's always felt like he's been the one in charge. Ever since your mother died. At first, I was a mess, and he helped out. And I leaned on him a little too much. It wasn't right, and now it feels like it's too late to tell him to take a step back."

"It's not too late." I couldn't imagine what Teddy went through. Fiona was the oldest, but she was away at college. So Teddy transferred to a school closer to home so he could be there for us. He helped Dad drive us to practices and games. He sacrificed a lot for us. I probably wasn't appreciative of his part over the years, but it came with a heavy dose of criticism.

He had a lot of opinions about how we should live our lives, and I never quite measured up.

Once we had the third tree secured, Dad grabbed bottles of water for both of us. "How are things between you and Claire?"

I rolled the bottle over my forehead, cooling my heated skin. "I haven't been able to see her much now that the farm is open for the season."

"That's tough on a new relationship."

"We haven't exactly defined whatever it is we're doing." Then I cringed, expecting Dad to tell me how immature I was being.

"Don't you think she deserves more than that?" Dad asked reasonably.

"She's fresh off a divorce." There was still a part of me that didn't feel good enough for someone like her. It was a hard feeling to shake.

"Did she say she didn't want anything serious?"

I thought back to that first kiss. "She said she wanted to keep things light, take it slow."

"Things change. You should ask her what she wants now."

"Just as soon as things slow down."

Dad gave me a look. "You know that doesn't happen until December twenty-fifth."

"My favorite day of the year." The farm was closed, and I always felt like I could sleep for a year.

"If I haven't said it before, I'm proud of you."

"Really?" I couldn't help but ask, but he hadn't said that before. I would have remembered.

"It's tough getting one-on-one time with each of you kids. Especially after Mom died. I was drowning in responsibilities. I wanted to do my best by you. Raise you the way Mom wanted. But I have to admit, it was pure survival in those early years. I leaned on Teddy and Wes, probably too much. That's why they're wound so tight now."

"That's the reason?" I joked.

Dad didn't crack a smile. "Then you felt the need to be the jokester. Which we appreciated. But not at the expense of burying yourself underneath it all."

I bristled. "What are you talking about?"

"You were the only one who seemed to be okay through all of it." Dad held up his hand. "I'm not saying you were, but you joked around, tried to get the other kids to play. You were a lifesaver. I didn't worry about you until much later, when it seemed like you couldn't decide what to do with your life."

"I'm aware of how much that bothered everyone in the family," I said dryly.

"I'm not trying to criticize you. It might have taken you a little while longer to discover your passion, but you've done that and then some."

"I work three to four jobs," I said, not quite believing him. Wasn't that proof that I couldn't figure out what I wanted?

"You enjoy mentoring people. I can see that now. It's not about the job. It's who you can reach."

"I hadn't thought about it like that."

"I see how you are with Owen and the kids on your team. It's what you were meant to do."

"You believe that?" I asked him, genuinely curious.

"I felt bad when Daphne took over the kitchen, but she always said how much she enjoyed it. And I had a front-row seat when she was perfecting her pie recipe. Not only was it tasty, but I saw how passionate she was about getting it right. She was born to bake. Just like you were made to teach and coach."

"I always assumed you wanted me going into law enforcement like everyone else."

Dad shook his head. "I didn't think you were cut out for it. Your heart is too big. It would have crushed your spirit."

My forehead wrinkled. "Why are you telling me all of this now?"

"I don't think I was the best father. I tried, but I failed in many ways. But I'm always growing and trying to do better, and I'd be remiss if I didn't tell you how I felt about what you're doing now."

I was a little shocked by his confession. "I appreciate it."

Dad smacked me on the shoulder. "I like Claire and Owen too. Don't screw it up."

"Thanks for that vote of confidence."

"You're an adult now, so I'm sure you'll figure it out." Then he turned to walk away. "I'm starving. I'm going to heat up that casserole Claire dropped off."

"You just like her because she cooks for you."

Dad grinned over his shoulder. "That is the quickest way into my heart."

I shook my head, my mind reeling over everything he'd revealed in the last few minutes. My dad was proud of me, and maybe wanted me to become a full-time teacher? It was almost too much to process.

I wanted to be seen as responsible, and I didn't think Claire would understand if I quit my full-time job to go back to school. I had enough going on with the farm. I didn't have time to chase dreams.

I'd made my choice, and I'd have to live with it.

* * *

That Saturday night, I was on the sidelines in a nail-biter. The game was tied at twenty-one a piece. We were ahead by twenty-one. Then Bryce had thrown three interceptions, which had all been returned for touchdowns. I wasn't sure if he was having an off day or what, but he wasn't used to failing at anything and he was spiraling.

While the opposing team was celebrating the extra point after the third touchdown, I turned to Owen. "Are you ready to go in?"

Owen put on his helmet, ready to run out for the next play. "As a wide receiver?"

I loved how he was so eager to do whatever I asked of him. "No. As the quarterback."

He sucked in a breath. "Are you sure?"

"You're a phenomenal quarterback. You see the receivers in a way Bryce doesn't." I wasn't sure how well he did under pressure. But what did I have to lose at this point? If I left Bryce in, people would be upset. If I took him out, Bryce's dad, Brian, would be upset. As a coach, I knew this was what I had to do.

Owen squared his shoulders. "I'll do whatever you need me to do."

At this point, the rest of the offensive line, including Bryce, was getting ready to go on the field. "Bryce, you're out. Owen, you're in."

"What?" Bryce's mouth dropped open as Owen led the team onto the field.

What I said to him in this moment would be important. And I knew it wasn't what he'd hear from his father. "We're trying something different."

"Are you saying I'm not any good? My dad—"

"I know what your dad is going to say. You threw three interceptions. It's not like you, and I'm confident you'll bounce back from this. But for today, let's see if putting Owen in will get us a win. You know, a win could put us in the playoffs."

Bryce nodded. "I know."

"You're an important part of this team, whether you're on that field or not."

Bryce sighed. "Okay, coach."

"Good. Now, let's cheer on the team."

Owen called the play, his hands behind the center, Joshua, who hiked the ball into Owen's hands. He passed it off to the running back, Tristan, who ran for three yards. I intentionally started with a running play so he could get over any nerves.

The next play was a pass, and I held my breath as Joshua hiked the ball to Owen, who backed up a few feet. I couldn't see his eyes from here, but his movements were hurried. He threw it too quickly, and it landed on the ground, short of the receiver.

He needed to exercise more patience, moving around the pocket to give more time for the wide receiver to run the route. It was something that came with experience, which Owen unfortunately didn't have.

"Are you sure this was a good idea?" one of the dads, Chris, asked. He was one that helped at practice and on the field because he wanted to, not because he thought it would ensure his son a spot.

"I had to try."

Chris stood next to me, and I appreciated the support.

It was third down, and Owen needed seven yards for the first down. I called another running play, watching helplessly as Tristan ran for another five, falling just short of the first down."

"It's a start," Chris said.

When Owen ran off the field directly to me, I said, "Good job out there. Get some water."

"Sure thing, coach," Owen said.

I was worried, but I had to show him I had confidence in him. I watched the defense battle it out on the field while the clock ticked away. If we ended in a tie, it wouldn't be enough to make the playoffs. I wasn't ready for the season to be over, and I knew the team wasn't either.

When we held them again, I called a timeout, gathering the team around me. "This is it. We practiced all year for this moment. You have to decide how badly you want the first down."

"I want to go to the playoffs," Joshua said.

I held up my hand. "One play at a time. Don't look ahead. I'm calling all passing plays this round. The other team won't expect it. I believe in every one of you. Brush off everything else that has happened. The only thing that matters is the next play." I'd listened to a podcast led by a former football player to get advice, and I loved his motivational speeches. I hoped I was channeling that guy's energy now, because the team needed it.

We placed our hands in the middle, and yelled, "Cougars!"

Everyone ran onto the field except for Owen. "Are you sure about this?"

"I believe in you. I get tingles watching you in practice. You can do this."

Owen's expression morphed from fearful to determined.

I touched the top of his helmet. "One play."

"One play," he repeated before jogging onto the field.

This time, Owen's stance on the field was different. He stood straighter, his shoulders lowered, and he spoke with confidence to his teammates. The quarterback was the leader on the field, and I always sensed that Owen had that within him. He was just afraid to let it out because he was the new kid.

Tonight, they were teammates, all Cougars, and nothing else mattered.

The rest of the team stood next to me, cheering for their fellow teammates, and I'd never felt prouder. No matter what happened, I'd coached this team and done my best.

Normally, I told the kids it wasn't about wins or losses. It was about improving one percent every day. Today, I wanted to win.

The team lined up, Owen standing confidently behind Joshua. The ball was hiked, and Owen backed up a few steps. The offensive line held the defense for a few seconds, giving Owen enough time to calmly scan the field. He looked toward his first option that would give them a first down plus a few yards. Then he looked down the field, and I drew in a breath. Maybe I should have told him to go for the first down, not the Hail Mary.

Owen pulled his arm back and let the ball fly. He was banking on Will being open down the field. He wasn't yet. The defensive lineman was all over him. But as soon as Will looked up and spotted the ball coming in his direction, he jived one way, then the other, losing the defense, and took off down the field at an all-out sprint.

The ball was slightly ahead of Will, but he dove for the ball, caught it, and held it tight to his chest.

The crowd behind us was deafening. I couldn't believe he'd done it. It wasn't a touchdown, but it was a life-defining throw. There shouldn't be any doubt that Owen had the arm and could make these kinds of plays in high-pressured situations.

Tears stung my eyes. I'd never been more proud. I wanted to search for Claire in the crowd, but the game wasn't over yet.

The refs lined the teams up for the next play. It was first and goal.

I suspected that Owen's arm was strong, that he had an eye for plays on the field, but he'd never played quarterback in an actual game. It was only one play, but his potential sent tingles down my spine.

"It looks like you made a good decision, coach," Chris said with a smile.

I shook my head. "It's not over yet."

Chris wandered down the line, encouraging the kids to cheer on their teammates. There were calls of, "You've got this!"

Then everything around me went quiet. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Come on. You can do it.

The other team and everyone in the stands thought we'd do a running play. It was the smart thing to do. But I'd called for a pass.

There were twenty seconds on the clock. We didn't have a lot of time for running plays. If we passed and didn't get the touchdown, we'd have two more tries.

I wouldn't know if it worked if I didn't try. I had the support of my family who was in the stands and Claire. And maybe a few of the parents.

Owen called the ball, palmed it, looked right, then left, and a hole opened in the center of the line. He tucked it under his arm and took off running.

I covered my mouth with my hand because I wanted to swear. Two feet. Three. A lineman dove for him, but Owen tucked the ball tight against his chest and jumped like he was leaping over a hurdle, then landed in the end zone.

The referee's hands raised in the air, the universal sign for a touchdown.

Everyone around me was yelling and jumping. But it felt like time had slowed. The team crowded around Owen, slapping his helmet and fist-bumping him. He grinned, still holding the football as he ran toward me. "You see that, coach?"

I grinned. "I sure did. I'm so proud of you."

The defensive line greeted them with fist bumps and high fives while I watched our kicker line up for the extra point.

When the ball went through the poles for the extra point, Owen stood next to me, a smile on his face. "Did I do good?"

I pulled him into my side with a hand over his shoulders. "You did good. We're going to hold them here."

Owen smiled wider. "We are."

I nodded as I turned my attention to the field. It was the longest few seconds of my life. We kicked off, and they ran the ball out of bounds to stop the clock. There were five seconds left on the clock. In football, that could mean a play or two, at most. I'd never been more nervous for anything in my life. I paced the sideline, feeling slightly sick.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I wouldn't pull it out during a game ordinarily, but something prompted me to do it this time. I turned so that my back was facing the bleachers.

Relax. You've got this.

I smiled and tucked it back into my pocket. Her message gave me the energy I needed to refocus on the game.

While the defensive line was on the field, Owen stood next to me. I felt like I was drawing strength from him and Claire's text. I felt closer to them than I ever had before.

The opposing team ran a quick pass play to the side so the receiver could easily step out of bounds to stop the clock. They hurried into a formation to try another one. This time, the quarterback threw down the field, a traditional Hail Mary, and one of my players, Kurt, jumped into the air, snagging the ball as the crowd erupted around us.