The Bridge to a Better Life (Dare Valley, #8)

He set aside his pastry bag. “No, feel free. I assume you’re heading over to Emmits Merriam for the final ceremony of the football camp.”


Of course he would know. Everyone in town knew. Heck, Uncle Arthur had even written an article about it in The Western Independent called “The Changing Faces of Sports.” Reading it had pinched her heart with pride for what Blake was doing.

“Yes, I thought I might,” she answered him.

“Might?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Oh, shut up,” she said without heat, “or I’ll blow on your meringues and make them collapse.”

His smirk was pure mischief. “My meringues are made of stronger stuff than that. And so are you. You know your own mind, all you need to do is trust yourself. And that’s the very last thing I’m going to say on the subject.”

He turned around with a wink and left the kitchen. She contemplated his meringues. He was right. She was made of stronger stuff, even when she was afraid.

When she stepped onto the football field at Emmits Merriam, as nervous as a virgin bride, the ceremony was starting. Her gaze found Blake in the middle of a group of young boys, standing with Sam and another man who matched his description of Frank. Blake was beaming as he handed out gold medals. Sam and Frank took turns putting them over the boys’ heads. The sheer joy on everyone’s faces was blinding.

Blake had told her about this—he wasn’t giving out special achievement medals to individual players like most camps did. Everyone was going to get a medal. As her gaze scanned the field, she watched as the same process played out in the other teams. Jordan was holding court with a group of high-school-age boys and leading them through a cheer with Zack at his side.

“I wondered if you were going to come today,” she heard behind her.

Her mother appeared by her side. She still hadn’t confronted her mother about being Cormack Daly’s messenger—or pumped her for information—and she didn’t plan to. It would only invite more conflict, which she didn’t want. She would assume her mother had meant well and leave it at that.

She flushed under her mom’s scrutiny. “I wanted to come.”

Her mom linked their arms. “I’m glad. I would have wondered if you hadn’t…I’ve heard you and Blake are working things out.”

She gave her mom the look.

“Oh, am I blind and deaf now?” she asked. “Blake looks so much happier than when he first arrived in town. It’s not just the camp, although he’s pretty much glowed all week.”

Yes, she’d noticed. Every time he came to her after leaving the guys, he’d practically lit up her bedroom. He was happy, and she was so glad to see it again.

Her mom unlinked their arms. “I need to receive my award shortly. You’re welcome to join the rest of us.”

She’d purposefully chosen a vacant part of the sidelines away from the crowd to give herself time to settle. When she glanced at Blake again, their eyes locked. Had her mother said he glowed? No, he burned.

She found herself smiling back at him, and everything else faded into the background. Her hand ducked up in a girlish wave before she realized it. She almost cursed at her own awkwardness.

Then Jordan saw her and ran across the field. “Hey, Nat baby,” he called out, reaching for her arm as he skidded to a halt in front of her. “Come join us. You can help us bestow our medals. I want you to meet my players.”

She’d never been so happy to have him pull her onto the field. “Sounds like fun.”

“See you later, honey,” her mother said, taking off with a ruffle of her fingers.

Plenty of people stared at her as she reached Jordan’s team. A few of them even pointed. Her shoulders tightened up so much she wished she’d thought to schedule a sixty-minute Swedish massage at the hotel.

After all the medals had been handed out, she took a place on the sidelines by herself as the boys fanned out on the sidelines, many of them holding hands. Seeing this sweet sign of unity made her heart swell. The sheen of pride she saw in all of the boys’ eyes threatened to make it burst.

Adam had told her what it felt like to be different, how hurtful it was to be pointed at and stared at by people. He’d been called names, flat-out ignored, and sometimes even cursed for being too slow. Keeping pride in himself had been an ongoing process, one helped by his loving parents and Blake, who’d never been ashamed of him. No, they’d valued Adam as one of the greatest human beings they’d ever known. Now, Blake was giving that gift to these boys.

Blake stepped into the middle of the field with the other coaches. Dressed simply, in the green T-shirt of his team, navy shorts, and a Raiders ball cap, he looked larger than life.

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