Getting Wound Up: A Sapphire Falls/Love Between the Bases Novel-- PART TWO (3 page)

“It’s all arranged.” Ty grinned. “I got you the time off, no problem. You have about a year of vacation coming. And Hailey said she’d really appreciate it if I took you off her hands for a while. Finding volunteer opportunities for you is kind of a time-suck.”

“But…” She looked helplessly at her mother, who looked just as confused. “Bryan…”

“Will be with us. I cleared it with his doctor and the PT Nazi. They said a change of scene would be good.”

In fact, Bryan looked more revved up than she’d seen him in a while. “I’m not missing another road trip. I have to get used to that wheelchair, and this is a good reason to try.”

“Honey, you know the wheelchair is just temporary,” their mother murmured. Caitlyn and Bryan exchanged a look. Why couldn’t she accept the situation for what it was? She wanted things to be back to normal, and didn’t understand that they never would be.

“I’m still totally confused,” Caitlyn told the two guys. “Where is this road trip to?”

“Do you really think we’d let our boy Eli pitch his first professional start
on his birthday
without some hometown support? Is that how we do it in Sapphire Falls? I don’t think so. Where is your brain? Never mind, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.” Ty flipped her hair, and she barely noticed because she was so shocked.

“You mean…”

“I mean we’re going to Kilby, Texas.”

“
What?
I can’t go to Kilby. I’m not going. You guys can go.”

Bryan rolled his chair so he was blocking her against the breakfast bar. “You’d let me travel all alone with that maniac? I need you.”

“Besides,” added Ty, moving next to Bryan. “No one does birthdays like Caitlyn Murray.”

“That’s true,” she admitted, not boasting, but because it was the simple truth.

Everyone knew that birthdays were her thing. Who could forget the adorable Little Mermaid cupcakes she’d made for Annie Golden’s sixth birthday. And the “75 and Still Hot to Trot” pony-shaped cake she’d made for Mrs. Burns at Sapphire Ranch.

Birthdays were important, even to pro ballplayers. Celebrating the day a person was born, letting that person know how glad you were they were part of your life, she loved all that.

Suddenly ideas were flitting through her brain…sweet, naughty, inspired ideas. “Fine, I’ll come on the road trip with you guys. But we have to make a couple of stops first. I need to pick something up at Scott’s Sweets. And it has to be a surprise. No one can tell Eli we’re coming. This is going to be the best birthday he ever had.”

Ty and Bryan whooped and exchanged high-fives. “Done,” said Bryan. “I’ll meet you guys at the van.”

Caitlyn went with Ty to pick up their bags from Bryan’s bedroom. She fully intended to add a few items. If she was going to see Eli on his birthday, she was going to do it right.

“You know, Caitlyn, it’s a good thing you agreed to come with us,” Ty told her as they crossed the living room.

“Why?”

“Otherwise, we were going to kidnap you.”

Eli had never been so nervous in his life. He’d always been completely cool and confident before a start, all through Little League, varsity, and his one year of college ball. Okay, so he’d maybe gotten a few jitters during his first start at the U of N, but nothing like this. He paced around the dugout while a third-grader from the Kilby Baptist Church belted out the “Star-Spangled Banner”.

As she finished, the crowd cheered and waved the Catfish-blue cowboy hats that had been handed out at the gates. It was Cowboy Appreciation Night at the stadium. Everyone wearing cowboy boots got a free hot dog, a massive line-dance had taken over the field before the anthem was sung, and Crush Taylor, the owner, had vowed to ride a mechanical bull on the field during the seventh-inning stretch.

That was the minor leagues for you. Every game had a promotion going on, the wackier the better.

Eli tried to block it all out and focus on his pitching strategy. Mike Solo, the Friars’ talented reserve catcher, was back in Triple-A rehabbing from a strained thumb. The Catfish players kept teasing him that he’d gotten the injury on purpose to spend time with his fiancée, Donna MacIntyre, the promotions girl. Solo was only down for a few days, but Eli had taken advantage by picking his brain at every opportunity. The fact that Solo would be catching his first start was the best birthday gift he could have gotten.

Not that he’d told anyone it was his birthday. He was here to pitch and help the team, not play birthday boy.

Solo came up next to him and clapped him on the shoulder. “How’re you feeling, big guy?”

“Awesome,” said Eli weakly.

“If awesome is code for ‘want to throw up,’ I believe you.” The curly-haired catcher winked one green eye. “You got this, Nebraska.” Apparently that was his new nickname all around. “You got it in the bag.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I do. Think of it this way. It can’t be worse than Caleb Hart’s first game as a Catfish. I think they actually put it in the record books under ‘Suckiest Starts of All Time.’”

“That right?” Eli worked at the leather of his glove, wondering how that applied to him. Caleb Hart was a rising star on the Friars. He’d even won the Cy Young Award the year before. But he was a flame-thrower, unlike Eli, who relied on finesse and that sneaky knuckleball.

“Hey.” Mike Solo seemed to sense where his thoughts were headed. “Forget Hart. This is about you. You got the stuff, man. Just be yourself out there. And you got a secret weapon, too.”

“What’s that?”

“Me.” Mike grinned. “I know all those Isotopes hitters better than my old Little League team. We got this.” He clapped him on the shoulder again. For an embarrassing moment, Eli wanted to hug him. Mike Solo was a good guy, straight up.

The young singer turned in a circle, as if overwhelmed by the applause. Donna ran onto the field and, smiling kindly at the girl, took her hand to lead her in the right direction.

“That’s my girl,” said Mike softly, beaming with love and pride as he watched Donna.

Eli felt a surge of envy. What would it be like to have your favorite girl in the world, your
fiancée
, by your side during a game? To be able to soak in her smile, draw strength from her presence? Know you weren’t ever alone?

He couldn’t think about that now. He had to focus on the game and the parade of Isotopes batters who wanted to bash the stuffing out of him.

As the crowd applauded, the Catfish ran onto the field to take their positions. Eli jogged to the mound. It seemed enormous. And it was in the middle of
everything.
The entire diamond, the entire freaking
stadium
was built around that pile of dirt where he now stood. All those people were looking at him. Waiting for him. And they weren’t asking where to find the drywall screws, or what brand of polyurethane to buy.

No, they were waiting
to see him pitch
. Holy hell.

Mike Solo squatted behind home plate and gestured for him to take his first warmup pitch. On autopilot, he reared back and let fly a damn good fastball. He heard a few claps from the stands, an approving “that’s the way” from Mike—

Then a very familiar “yeah, baby!” from the box seat along the third base line.

He whirled toward the box, snagging the ball back from Solo as he turned.

Sure enough, there was Bryan. And Ty. And…her face as bright as sunshine… Caitlyn.

Did Eli have to be so unbearably sexy in his Catfish uniform? Caitlyn couldn’t tear her eyes from his strong form as he took the mound. The fact that they’d been naked in bed together…that he’d had his hands all over her body…that she’d put her lips on his…

Oh God, don’t think about that now! She felt a little faint with the Texas sun beating down on their heads. She raised her hand to shield her eyes, and that’s when she saw the exact moment he caught sight of their little group.

He straightened in shock, then let fly a huge grin. Did those blue eyes linger on her, or was that her imagination? He looked happy to see all of them. “Happy birthday, dude!” Ty yelled. Eli tipped his cap to the three of them, then turned back to the catcher, who was standing behind the plate, his mask up, squinting back and forth between Eli and the Sapphire Falls group.

“Play ball,” called the umpire.

Right. There was a ball game to be played. Caitlyn sank into her seat and tried to calm her racing heartbeat.

Eli looked
so good
. He’d always looked good to her, even at the end of a long day at the hardware store, frowning over cash register receipts. But now, there was the way his uniform molded to his muscular legs. And then there was the focused look on his face as he leaned in for the sign from the catcher. And what about the way his broad shoulders strained his jersey. And the way his brown hair curled a bit under the back of his cap. The air of confidence he exuded on the mound—not arrogance, not cockiness, just… Rightness.

Quiet command, that was Eli. That was how he dealt with Chip’s doctors, Lindsay’s teachers, and the staff at the hardware store. Eli wasn’t about boasting and bluster.

He was about getting the job done.

On the field and in more…intimate situations.

Her face flamed at the memory of what had happened in that hotel room. Face it. The massive crush she’d been working on in Sapphire Falls was nothing compared to this feeling. She’d taken him inside her body. He’d taken her to levels of bliss that had blown her mind. And now she was watching him do his thing on the mound at a real baseball stadium.

How was she ever supposed to get over him?

Chewing on her bottom lip, she glanced over at Ty to see him watching her with amusement. “Everything okay there, Cait?”

Oh God. Did he know the sort of thoughts that were cruising around her brain right now? She fixed her gaze on Eli as he slid a curveball past a swinging Isotopes player.

“Strike three!” Bryan yelled. “Yeah, baby. Go, Eli!”

A smile quirked the corner of Eli’s mouth, but otherwise he ignored the crowds in the stands. He accepted the ball back from the catcher, then watched the next batter step into the box.

Caitlyn leaned closer to her brother. “He really knows what he’s doing, doesn’t he?”

“Looks that way to me. I think the locals agree.” He pointed to a sign in the stands behind home plate.

A curvy girl in blue jeans and a cowboy hat held up a homemade sign that read, “Just call me Mrs. Anderson.”

A hot stab of jealousy hit her right in the stomach.
Mrs. Anderson
? Puh-lease. Totally tacky. She would never do such a thing. Why, she ought to run over there and tear that sign right out of her hands. Maybe take a lighter to it while she was at it. And stomp that blue cowboy hat to pieces.

“Whoa there, cowgirl,” said Bryan, putting a hand on her arm. “Let’s not get into any trouble with the hometown crowd. This is Texas. I think they hand out guns at the border.”

“I’m…not…” She realized she was on her feet, glaring across the diamond. “I just think it’s inappropriate, that’s all. She doesn’t even know Eli.”

“She’s a fan,” said Ty. “She likes his pitching. You know you’ve hit the big time when you have groupies.” He smiled smugly.

Ty ought to know about groupies, that was for sure. But Ty was… Ty. He’d always been a little wild, sort of a player. Eli wasn’t like that. He was steady, responsible, the kind of guy you could always count on, who…who…looked like a freaking god in those baseball pants.

She sank back into her seat as Eli began pitching to the next batter. Calm and unflappable, he worked the outside corner with a fastball-curve-knuckleball sequence that had the batter grounding out to first base. From someone’s portable TV, an announcer’s voice accompanied the action.

“Other than a few innings spent mopping up other pitchers’ messes, this is the first chance we’ve had to see Eli Anderson in action. What’s your take so far, Bob?”

“Well, he ain’t flashy, that’s for sure. But you can see him thinking out there, taking his time with each pitch. That’s rare for a rookie and shows a kind of maturity that will serve him well. If I had to sum up his play in one word, it might be intelligent.”

“Good choice. I have to say I agree. But then every once in a while he delivers one of those wacky knuckleballs, and what can you say to that? They go about sixty miles an hour, but there’s no way to predict a pitch like that. Word has it the Friars picked him for that pitch alone. It sure sets him apart from the crowd. The question now is, will the knuckleball make a comeback?”

Caitlyn glowed with pride. “I can’t believe they’re talking about Eli on the radio! And I knew the knuckleball wasn’t a mistake. He was so worried about that.”

Bryan gave her a funny smile. “You know something, Cait?”

“What?”

“I hope Eli knows how lucky he is.”

The look on her brother’s face—almost sad, as if he was saying goodbye to something—caught her off guard. “Of course he knows. He never thought he’d have the chance to pitch professionally.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

Embarrassed, Caitlyn looked away from her brother. If he was talking about her and Eli, he was jumping to some crazy conclusions. Just then she caught sight of Stewart, the scout she’d met in Kansas City, leaning on the outer barrier of the bullpen. She waved at him, and, amazingly enough, he waved back, then beckoned her over.