Page 5 of Dirty Whispers

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Page 5 of Dirty Whispers

“When do y’all practice again?”

“That would be a question for Morgan.”

“Well, let me know when you find out. As long as I’m in town, y’all are welcome to come over.”

“Thanks.”

“Mama,” Timothy calls.

I turn to him jogging toward us. Nobody else is left in the building, which kicks my temperature up another notch.

“Miss Morgan said we’re done and that she’s going to skin Jeffrey’s hide before next practice, whatever that means.”

Nate chuckles. “That might not be necessary, buddy.”

Timothy grins. Nate reaches out and rustles his hair, and I choke back a tear.

“I told your mom to let me know about practice from now on. I’ll be happy to help whenever I’m here.”

“Really?”

“Yep. I’ll walk y’all to your car.”

My legs finally agree to work, and the three of us make it to my car parked in the ditch by the pasture. Nate opens my door for me, bringing on some nostalgia I don’t need to deal with right now. Timothy hops in the other side, oblivious to anything between his mom and Nate the Great.

“Seriously, Brooke. Call or text me about your practice schedule.” He smiles at me, then Timothy.

Timothy smiles back, and I swallow.

“Thanks, Nate.” I smile and close the door. “For everything,” I add under my breath as I glance toward our son.

* * *

Nate

Brooke and Timothy drive into the setting sun.

I stand at the edge of the road and watch until their car is no longer in view. Then I walk down the hill to turn off all the lights in the shop. Or should I say training facility.

Luckily there is enough space between Mom’s trailer and the building for us to practice some fly balls next time.

I enter the shop and shake my head. What am I doing? Morgan is the coach, and I all but took over. Not that she seemed to mind. She literally stepped aside and told me to do what I thought was best.

It’s not like I don’t enjoy helping these kids. It’s that doing so means I’m around Brooke even more. And that may not be best considering I still have feelings for her.

However, I did get a good look at her hand today. She had on regular clothes and makeup, even earrings, but no rings. I’ll make sure to check next time I’m at church to confirm it.

I stack the buckets of balls to the side and grab a resistance band. Before finding everyone in the pasture, I was on my way to work out my own arm and shoulder. I hit off a tee this morning and ran a few miles. Then I made myself take it easy on yard work.

The more I’m here in so-called recovery mode, the more I contemplate coaching. I’ve helped with lots of high school camps over the years, at first for extra money and then for fun. It’s nice to do that on a smaller scale, where I can really get to know the kids.

I loop the band around a pole to execute a different exercise and close my eyes as I pull it tightly. My shoulder has been better today, but it still stings at times. If I hadn’t stopped weed eating when I did, I’d likely have it on ice by now.

As I work through the mundane routine of stretching my shoulder a million different ways, my mind drifts to Brooke and Timothy.

Even if she’s single, he still has a dad. He might not live here though, since nobody’s mentioned him and I haven’t seen him with Timothy. Once they start having ball games, I should know if he’s in his life.

What dad wouldn’t want to watch his son play baseball for the first time?


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