Making It Right (Most Likely To #3)

“Really?”


“Someone said prescription stuff, then I heard morphine . . . or was it heroin?” Parker shook his head. “It wasn’t good, whatever it was.”

“Jesus, what was he thinking?”

“No clue.” Parker finished his stretches, leaned against the fence. “Sure you don’t want to bet on who is going to win?”

“With my running luck, I’d lose, fall, and break something and end up banned by CIF for betting. I’ve had a really crappy week.”

“Yeah, I heard about the dog.”

Drew figured he’d be part of the rumor mill. “It sucked.”

Parker was quiet for a minute. “So you didn’t do it?”

“Do what?”

Parker shifted his feet. “Nothing.”

The hair on Drew’s neck stood up. “What do you mean?”

Parker glanced around the busy field. Drew followed his gaze. Runners in ten different uniforms gathered in clumps of the same colors, awaiting their event. The starting gun went off and the girls in the three hundred hurdles took off running.

“I knew it had to be bullshit,” Parker said.

“What is bullshit?”

“Someone suggested you planted the dog to scare your girlfriend.”

The air in Drew’s lungs collapsed. “What the fuck.”

“I didn’t think that sounded like you.”

Drew looked over the field as if whoever had repeated those words would be standing there with an arrow pointing down at them. “Who did you hear that from?”

“Someone from North.”

Drew didn’t know anyone from North. “Any idea who they heard it from?”

Parker shook his head.

There were some rumors Drew had no problem suffering, but not this one. “This sucks.”

“Sorry, man.”

The adrenaline pulsing through his veins, Drew would use to win his race, then he’d find who was starting those rumors and beat the crap out of them.



It was cool and damp and Jo was wearing some kind of yoga pants that hugged her tight butt and firm legs like a second skin. On her head was a baseball cap embossed with the school logo, her hair in a ponytail poking out the back. She could have easily passed for one of the students and not their thirty-year-old coach. Their thirty-year-old hot coach who turned heads when she walked by clusters of kids from the opposing school.

Gill watched her from the stands while pretending to pay attention to those running the races.

He’d only been in the stands for ten minutes before the weight of his stare penetrated her armor and Jo searched the bleachers with her eyes.

He smiled when they finally landed on him.

Even from several yards away, he saw her grin. Then someone pulled her away, and off she went, playing coach.

“Someone playing stalker?”

Gill shaded the sun from his eyes with the palm of his hand to find Mel standing over him. “More like bodyguard.” He patted the space beside him.

Mel sat. “I can’t stay long, I have two vaulters competing with the varsity team.”

“You’re the pole vault coach?”

“You sound shocked.”

“Impressed.”

Mel blushed a little. “I didn’t do too bad when I was in high school. Since my husband is the head coach, it wasn’t like I had a choice in helping out.”

“I’m sure the fact that River Bend isn’t a major metropolis with tons of high school track coaches helps out, too.”

“I’m sure it does.” Mel turned to the field. “What makes you think Jo needs a bodyguard?”

“Have you seen how those horny high school kids are looking at her?”

Mel started to giggle. “They looked at her like that when she was in high school, too. It works now about as much as it worked then.”

“She wasn’t interested?” Gill was surprised a second time. He thought for sure Jo was the outgoing dating type when she was younger. And by dating, he figured she was one to set her own rules and run through boys quickly.

“She didn’t date many kids from our town. I’m sure her daddy being the sheriff helped with that. Kinda like if you were a dad. Chances are your daughter would be in a chastity belt hidden in an ivory tower.”

The mention of him being the father of a little girl raised the future guardian in him. “Third story with a locked bedroom door, if nothing else.”

“With you to get through. Jo’s dad wasn’t as big, but he was just as protective.”

The starting gun shot through the air, directing their attention to the field.

“Which race is this?” Gill asked.

“Two mile.”

A herd of teenage boys took the first turn. Most of the uniforms were of the opposing team, a few of River Bend’s colors filtered in with the runners leading the pack. “These are Jo’s kids, right?”

“Yep.” Mel stood. “I’ve gotta go. Will we see you in town tomorrow?”

“No. I’m kidnapping your sheriff instead.”

Mel leaned down and whispered in his ear, “She likes handcuffs.”

“Information to hold close to my heart,” he said with a grin and a wink.

“You pass the smell test, Gill,” Mel told him.

For effect, Gill lifted his left arm and sniffed.

Mel walked away laughing.

From his vantage point, Gill could see the runners and hear their teammates yelling out times as they passed a certain point on the field. Jo stood back from the finish line with a stopwatch in her palm. The runners were on their second lap and looked to be settling in for a long run when Gill noticed a woman encouraging one of the runners to pace himself. The kid looked familiar, even from the sidelines, sitting a couple of benches up on the bleachers.

He found himself watching the last lap on the edge of his seat. The announcer, one that sounded like he’d take a spot on a television show if given the chance, called out the last names of the top three runners. The name Emery stuck out in his head. Jo’s number one runner was neck and neck with the runner from Eugene. The third in line was another River Bend local. The last hundred meters of the race had the stands cheering. The home team advantage screamed encouragement while the kids of River Bend stood on the sidelines, screaming at the two in purple and gold.

Gill dashed his eyes to Jo. She screamed. She yelled. She held the stopwatch in the air like it would somehow will the runner to make the right time and cross over before the opponent.

When the first foot crossed the finish line, inches away from the other, the stands sighed in short disappointment since the winner was from River Bend. The minority cheered, and all three of the top winners patted the others on the back as they held their hands to their knees in an attempt to catch their breath.

Jo stepped into the striped lanes to congratulate her winner.



Drew allowed himself to be pulled into a hug from his coach.

Crossing the finish line first and exceeding his personal record by half a minute sealed his position to compete in the finals. His rankings in the state were in the top ten, his chances of going to state championships almost a given. Which meant he’d have his pick of colleges far away from River Bend.