Sunrise (5 page)

Jim told her with his eyes that he was grateful she didn’t need details now. He didn’t want to talk about his players in front of Bailey.

As she and Jenny filed out of the room, Bailey stopped. “Daddy . . . what if he doesn’t wake up?”

“He will, baby.” Jim hugged her for a long time.

Jenny came up beside him and put her arm around Bailey’s shoulders.

When Bailey took a step back, she had fresh tears in her eyes. “Thanks for giving me a warning. I really don’t want to see the guys.”

Jim watched them leave, then returned to the waiting room and led Tanner, Todd, and Jack to Cody’s room. Though they had arrived contrite and wanting to confess their wrongdoings, Jim wasn’t sure they fully understood the seriousness of their actions. But now, as they gathered stiffly around Cody’s hospital bed, Jim saw the gravity of the matter hit each of them at the same time. Jim suspected they would feel the seriousness of their troubles at an even deeper level when he asked Officer Joe to talk to them and the rest of the players. Joe had explained that he had videos from his days on the police force. Yes, there would be difficult days ahead for the entire Clear Creek football team.

But for now, Jim could tell the reality was taking its toll on these three. Not because of anything they said to each other or to Cody as they hovered near his bed. But because each of Jim’s toughest football captains was doing something Jim had never seen them do before.

They were crying.

Dayne Matthews’ breath hung in the freezing air, but he moved carefully on the sloped, grassy lawn, staying in the pocket as he searched for his receiver. “Shawn . . . get open!”

Shawn Flanigan ran as hard as he could past the three-man defense. “Here! Throw it here!”

Dayne took two long steps, winced at the pain that remained in his left leg, and fired the ball downfield. It soared through the air, and twenty yards away Shawn jumped as high as he could, snagged it, and brought it to his chest. “First down!”

Ricky, the Flanigans’ youngest, raised both hands in the air and hooted his approval. He high-fived Dayne. “We did it! I knew we could do it!”

Dayne was out of breath and mindful of the ache in his leg. Though he’d come far in rehab, the doctor had told him to take it easy, and he would. He had. There was a chance his leg might never be as strong as it had once been, but none of that mattered. Not the pain in his leg, the way he still tired easily, or the scar that ran from his knee to his thigh.

He was alive and he was here, well enough to play the game the way he’d played it as a boy in boarding school. If God had given him this much, what more could he want?

Dayne walked down the yard to the new line of scrimmage. “Another one just like it, okay?”

Ricky’s cheeks were red from the effort. “One more score and we win!”

The teams weren’t that evenly matched. Dayne, Shawn, and Ricky against Katy, BJ, and Justin. More than once, Justin had given Katy a look that said they might as well have Bailey on their team for as great a job as Katy was doing. “No offense,” Justin had said before the last play, “but you play football like a girl.”

Katy tipped back her head and laughed. “I’m not sure I’m even
that
good.”

She was bundled up in a nylon down jacket, red scarf, gloves, and snow boots. She was so bogged down that she didn’t run so much as lumber from one part of the yard to another. But her eyes shone, and her blonde hair hung halfway down her back. Dayne couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

Dayne nodded across the line to Justin, the most athletic of the Flanigan boys. “We’re in the red zone now!”

Justin tossed his hands in the air and gave Dayne a look of comical defeat. The four youngest Flanigan boys—all athletes—knew better than to expect much sporting talent from Katy Hart. The game had been going for half an hour, and already Dayne’s team was up by three touchdowns. If they reached four, they’d agreed they would call it a day.

In all, the game had been a great diversion.

Jim, Jenny, and Bailey were still holding vigil for Cody Coleman at the hospital, where they might stay all day. Connor was at the Reeds’ working on his voice recital performance, and Jim had asked Dayne and Katy to watch their four younger boys.

Dayne was spending the week at the Baxter house until he and Katy had time to buy furnishings for the house on the lake. When Dayne had learned about the emergency with Cody, he joined Katy at the Flanigan house. Katy was heartsick about the teen, and the four youngest boys had been sitting around the living room, somber and teary eyed.

The football game had been Dayne’s idea.

Shawn stayed at receiver as they lined up for the next play. Dayne didn’t want to make it too easy, so rather than go out for another pass, they agreed the ball would go to Ricky, the youngest. He was the only Flanigan child who had actually played football that fall. The other three boys were playing advanced club soccer—a sport that went almost year-round.

“You’re mine.” Dayne pointed at Katy. They were lined up opposite each other, and as soon as Shawn hiked the ball, Dayne passed it off to Ricky. Then, moving in dramatic slow motion, Dayne ran at Katy and pulled her backward onto the ground. Katy let out a yelp as Dayne fell next to her.

On the other side of the yard, Ricky took off with Shawn blocking for him and Justin and BJ on their heels. Shawn threw himself in front of Justin, giving Ricky just enough edge to speed across the imaginary line formed by two trees on either side of the yard.

“Touchdown!” Dayne was on his feet. He moved toward Shawn and Ricky, and the trio exchanged another round of high fives.

Ricky held the ball high and danced around in the end zone.

“Not fair.” Justin laughed and put his arm around BJ’s shoulder. “We were set up.”

It was well after lunch, and the temperature was below freezing. The forecast called for clouds and possibly snow by tomorrow. Katy cupped her hands around her mouth. “Let’s get inside before we freeze.”

Back in the house, the boys were still chattering about the game as they headed up to their rooms to change out of their wet, muddy clothes.

Dayne had brought an extra pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. He changed in the downstairs bathroom and took his dirty clothes to his car.

When he met Katy in the kitchen, she took a deep breath and leaned on the raised kitchen counter. “We never stood a chance.”

“No.” Dayne pulled a couple of glasses from the cupboard and went to the sink. He filled both with water and handed one to Katy. Then he looked through the great room, out the window toward the yard where they’d just been playing. His eyes met hers again. “That’s all I want, Katy. You and me and a bunch of kids. Playing football and rolling in the mud and being the kind of family I always dreamed about.”

“Hmmm.” She took a drink of her water. “Where does Hollywood fit into the picture?”

“I don’t know.” He downed his water and set the glass on the counter. “I already told you what I think about my next movie.”

“You’re serious?” Katy angled her head. She was standing across from him, a few feet separating them.

“I want you to read for the part. If the director likes what he sees, you should consider it.”

Katy released her next breath slowly. “I don’t know, Dayne. I love what I’ve got here. CKT, the theater kids, and their families.”

He smiled. “God will make it clear. Whichever way it’s supposed to go.”

They heard the sound of pounding feet on the stairs, and Dayne felt a wave of sorrow. He spoke softly so the boys wouldn’t hear him. “I hope Cody comes out of it soon. I’d love to give those guys some good news.”

Katy finished her water. “For now let’s give them dinner.”

The boys came into the kitchen talking all at once. By unanimous decision, they decided on sloppy joes.

“I’ll get the mix!” BJ ran for the pantry, disappeared inside, and came out balancing four cans in his arms. “This should be enough!”

Katy laughed. “For most of the neighborhood.”

“Where’re the pans?” Dayne had washed his hands and rolled up his sleeves.

Katy pointed to a cupboard and directed Dayne to find the pan and a pack of buns in the refrigerator while she went to the garage for a frozen package of ground beef. “It’ll thaw as we cook it.” She peeled off the plastic wrap, dropped the icy block of meat into a frying pan, and turned the burner on. Bright flames licked the sides.

Dayne studied the situation. “Maybe turn it down a little. Since it’s still frozen.”

“Nah.” Katy found a lid and covered the pan. “I’ve seen Jenny do this a dozen times. The high heat thaws it.” Her eyes danced, and she gave him a look that said she knew what she was doing. “I know about cooking.”

From the other room, Justin called to them. He was the second oldest of the three boys the Flanigans had adopted from Haiti. In addition to being the most athletic, Justin was the tallest boy with the largest build of the four youngest Flanigans. Dayne had noticed that around his brothers, Justin could slip into a teasing mode that bordered on cockiness. But for the most part he was a gentle kid who took it easy on his siblings.

Today, though, he’d been beaten at football. Now he was chalking up a cue stick and standing near the pool table. “Who thinks they can take me?”

Ricky ran up to Dayne and grabbed his sleeve. “You can do it, Dayne! You can beat him.”

Dayne had heard the stories. Some days even Jim couldn’t beat Justin at pool. He shrugged in Katy’s direction. “Someone has to do it.”

They moved into the great room, and not until the game was tied with two balls left apiece did Dayne smell something burning. At the same time, Katy gasped and raced back into the kitchen.

Dayne saw a ribbon of smoke drifting from the direction of the stove. “Is it on fire?”

“Not yet. Hurry, Dayne,” Katy yelled. She sounded frantic. There was the sound of her rushing around the kitchen, then the crash of something dropping.

Dayne left his cue stick balanced against the table and jogged toward her as fast as he could, the boys close behind. As they rounded the corner, Dayne saw the problem. With the flame still on high, the bottom of the frozen block of ground beef had burned to a crisp, sticking firmly to the pan.

Katy was picking up the pieces of a large glass mixing bowl as Dayne reached the stove. “I was trying to dump it in this.”

“Just a minute.” Dayne rushed toward the open cupboard, grabbed another big bowl, and tried to grab the pan handle. But it was too hot. Meanwhile, the smoke was getting thicker. “The flame’s still on.” He flipped the burner to the off position and set the bowl on the counter next to the stove. “Where’re the pot holders?”

“Right.” Katy jumped up, darted around the corner of the island, and opened the first drawer. “Watch the glass!” From the stack of hot pads, she grabbed an oven mitt and tossed it to Dayne. “Here.”

He barely caught it, slipped it over his hand, and finally removed the frying pan from the stove. The lid was still in place, though it wasn’t enough to keep smoke from curling out around the edges. Using his gloved hand, he lifted the lid and set it down.

Ricky and BJ began coughing and waving their hands, trying to clear the kitchen air.

“Stay back!” Katy ushered them into the great room. As she did, Dayne heard her slide open both patio doors.

But the fresh air didn’t come fast enough. Before Dayne could thank her, the smoke alarm went off.

The siren pulsed through the house, and the boys covered their ears. Shawn made eye contact with Dayne and said above the noise, “This happened last time Katy cooked.”

Katy put her hands on her hips and gave the boy a wry look. “Thanks, Shawn.” She turned her attention to Dayne. Her smile said she wasn’t capable of a defense. Especially over the roar of the alarm.

Dayne took the lid from the pan and tried to sweep fresh air toward the monitor. “Are you hooked up with the fire department?”

“I think so.” Katy was doing her best to fan air into the house. “What should we do?”

“Last time, Mommy called the firemen.” Ricky folded his arms in front of him. “She said you have to do it fast or they come with their sirens and everything.”

Katy dodged the broken glass and hurried to the phone at the other end of the kitchen. She opened a drawer and sifted through a stack of papers. “Ugh . . . the false alarm stuff’s supposed to be in here.”

“Is it in a folder or just loose?” Dayne moved to her side, helping look through the documents in the drawer.

“Maybe I should call Jenny. Except her cell phone’s probably off since she’s—”

She never had the chance to finish her sentence. Sirens sounded in the distance and grew closer every second.

“They’re coming!” Suddenly Dayne took stock of the situation, and he felt himself starting to laugh. The picture was hysterical. The boys covering their ears in the next room, Katy frantically looking through the drawer, and shattered glass all over the floor—while the burned block of frozen meat sat in the middle of the counter looking less like dinner all the time.

Through the front window, Dayne watched a fire engine pull into the Flanigans’ driveway.

Katy threw her hands in the air and blew a sharp breath at her bangs. “Great. Jenny’ll never let me watch the kids again.”

“I’ll handle it.” Dayne gave her a quick hug. As he walked by the smoke alarm, he fanned fresh air at it once more. This time it was just enough; the relentless siren fell silent.

“Does that mean there’s no fire?” BJ blinked, his brown eyes so wide that Dayne could see the whites all the way around them.

“There’s no fire.” Dayne looked at each boy as he passed by. “Stay here.” He ran down the short hall toward the entryway and opened the door just as three firefighters came up the tiered sidewalk.

The man at the front of the trio was Landon Blake, Dayne’s brother-in-law, his sister Ashley’s husband. “The call came through, and I figured it was a false alarm.” Landon’s face was taken up with his smile. “We’ve had a few others here.”

Dayne leaned against the doorframe. “Let me guess. . . .” He made a face that suggested he already knew the answer. “All when Katy was cooking?”

“Afraid so.” Landon stopped on the porch and peered into the house. “What’s she making this time?”

“Frozen beef.” Dayne massaged his brow with his thumb and forefinger. “Charbroiled frozen beef.”

“Mmmm.” Landon gave him a light punch on the shoulder. “Sorry I can’t make it, friend.” He looked at his watch. “We have to get back. You know, in case someone else sets off a smoke alarm.”

Katy must’ve heard Landon’s voice, because she came down the hallway toward the open front door, her hands on her hips. “Did Dayne mention that I was distracted?”