Under the lights of the Amarillo Sandies stadium, the Warriors played their last and best game. The stands rocked with red and gold Warrior fans. The pep band beat the air with their rhythms.
Noah and Calvin clicked on play after play. Max’s weaker skill players found their stride, especially sophomore tight end Grant Strickland, who broke free on his first play and ran forty-two yards for the Warriors’ first six.
Tucker easily made the point after. The grin on his face and the power in his stride as he came off the field would live in Max’s memory for a long time.
But it was fourth quarter. Two minutes to go, 23–21. The Sandies led by two.
Second down, Calvin caught a pass that led the Warriors to the Sandies’ six yard line. The stands rocked and waved. Air horns blasted. Drumbeats sounded.
Max signaled in a run. The Sandies were weak on the left side and he was going to send Calvin through into the end zone.
The ref ’s whistle blew and Noah took the snap, handing off to Calvin.
Max’s pulse surged. Just six yards . . . six little yards.
Fumble. Max jerked upright. Calvin . . . dropped the ball. Every player on the field was scrambling. Black and gold tussling against red and gold. An anxious knot weaved through Max as he waited for the refs to clear the pile. When they did, a lone Warrior guard lay on the ground, curled around the ball.
“Yes. Way to hustle.” Max ran down the sideline. “Haywood, way to go.
Now, let’s hang on to it this time.”
“My heart darn near stopped beating,” Hines mumbled as he walked past.
“I think mine did,” Max said, shoving his hat back on his head. “Twice.”
The boys ran toward the sideline, defeated under their helmets.
“Let’s go, run, shake it off.” Max stepped onto the field. “There’s still a minute forty to play. We’re not done yet.”
“What do you want to do, Max?” Coach Hines scanned his play card.
“Tucker’s been hitting all night.”
Now it was fourth and twelve. Tuck stood next to Max, ready to go. But there was more than enough time for the best team in the district to defeat the worst.
It was a repeat of last week against Lubbock. Except . . .
“I say we go for six. The Sandies won’t be able to beat us with a field goal.”
Max looked at Tucker. “Want to give Calvin and Noah another shot?”
“Let’s go for six.”
“We can do it, Coach.” Calvin clapped Tucker on the shoulder pads and snapped on his helmet. “I won’t drop it. I won’t.”
“I know you won’t.” Max scanned his play card. He called a pass. “Calvin, you run straight for that flag just inside the goal line. Noah, you put it right over his shoulder. Warriors on three. One, two, three.”
“Warriors!”
Max glanced back at Jade—she gave him two thumbs-up—then he scanned down the row for Asa. Dr. Gelman held him, helping him wave his Warrior flag. Asa already had a way with the ladies.
On the field, the offense lined up. The whistles blew. The clock started ticking. Expectation weighted the air. Noah called for the snap. The Sandies defense shifted.
“Blitz,” Max called. “They’re blitzing.”
But Noah was poised and perfect, undaunted by the swell of black and gold coming toward him. Calvin blew past their cornerback and cut toward the left end zone marker. Noah released the ball. A beautiful, spinning spiral.
Calvin looked back. Max dropped to one knee. Eyes fixed on the left end zone flag. Come on, Calvin, come on. Calvin stretched for the ball.
It hit his fingertips and bounced, twirling end over end above his hands. Max dropped his head as Calvin tripped and stumbled.
The throw couldn’t have been any better. It just didn’t hit.
When he looked up, the Sandies’ defenders were closing in. Calvin caught his stride and remained upright. Just before the ball hit the ground, he reached one-handed and pulled it in. By the time he hit the field, he had control of the football and his right foot anchored in bounds.
The ref ’s arms shot into the air. Touchdown. Touch! Down! Max launched out of his crouched position, firing onto the field, racing arms wide toward Calvin. The stands exploded with Warrior pride—a deafening noise.
“Coach, coach—” Calvin jumped into Max, nearly knocking him over. But Max held on, amid the throng of celebrating players, yelling from the bottom of his being.
“That’s the way to play Warrior football.”
The Sandies’ offense didn’t have a chance. Quick and accurate, they’d lost their momentum. No way would Haley’s D let the team down.
When the clock ran out, the score said it all. Home: 23. Visitors: 28.
The Warriors had won their first game in two seasons with greenhorn
Maxwell Benson as their head coach. Even the Sandies had to celebrate with them. The stadium shook and shimmied. Both teams knelt to say the Lord’s Prayer. Then the Warriors ran, celebrating, to their buses for home.
Max was pretty sure none of their feet touched the ground.
Sleep. What sleep?
“You awake?” Jade rolled on her side, resting her hand on her growing middle. Baby girl B had stopped being submissive to baby girl A about a week ago and it was an all-out war in there.
“Who can sleep?”
“You won, Max. You won.”
“I keep going over everything in my mind. I know how it feels to lose. I’ve relived those moments, on and off the field, plenty of times. But this . . .” His smiled parted the darkness in the room. “Is amazing.”
“I knew tonight was going to be different. Chevy stood up to Bobby. He got rid of the bad seed. These last few years Bobby brought the whole program down, Max. When Chevy let him run amuck, no one succeeded.”
“Run amuck?”
Jade shoved him. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I do. After the press conference it felt different. Did it to you?” Max reached over, finding Jade’s hand in the dark.
“Yeah, but I felt bad for him. He’s just trying to fulfill his dreams.”
“Chevy said his old man was pretty hard on him. He thinks leaving Colby High is the best thing for him.”
“Where’s he going?”
“Not sure. But I’ve been praying about getting a lunch with him, checking in, seeing how he’s doing.”
“I can’t imagine how he feels, Max. In his mind, his friends Chevy and Rick betrayed him. Just when he thought they were in his corner. Instead of being coach, he’s unemployed.”
“I feel for him too, but he made the decisions that got him in trouble. Just like I did, Jade. I had to live out the consequences and it made me get on my knees before the Lord and get real. If Bobby runs headlong into Jesus, he’ll look back on this day with gratitude.”
“Are you happy, Max?”
“Yeah. Very. You?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I can’t stop smiling. I go to sleep smiling, I wake up smiling.”
“How do you feel about living in Colby for the rest of your life? Or the next twenty years, anyway.”
“I love Colby, Max. It’s where we found each other, where the girls were conceived. Where we met Tucker. Did I tell you Brenda Karlin somehow got into Polly Vance’s attic with all her vintage clothes?”
“R-really? How’d you find out?”
“She told me. She’s been having tea with Mrs. Vance for months. Every Sunday. The old lady asked her what she wanted and she said a peek at the closet. So she told her she could have whatever she wanted.”
“Wow, babe.” Max squeezed her hand. “Didn’t you want something from that closet?”
“Ha, I did.” Ppffllbbttt. “I can’t wear it now. A little black dress? Even if I could fit into it, these two would fight over it, calling dibs. Listen, I think we need to write out rules and discipline for these two. They’re going to be terrors.”
“They’re going to be beautiful,” Max said. “Perfect angels.”
“Sure, okay, hold on to that fantasy.”
“So, Brenda . . . ?”
“She found a storefront and wants to open a vintage shop. She asked me to help get it started. Guess who will be her main employee?”
“Bit?”
“No, but good try. Mariah Walberg.”
Max hummed. “Good for Brenda. Mariah needs someone to believe in her.
So, you don’t want the little black dress? You won’t always be pregnant.”
“I asked her about it and she said she promised it to someone already.” Jade sighed. She would’ve loved that little black dress. “Maybe I can convince Brenda I need the dress more. Or ask who she promised it to and see if they’ll sell it.”
Max turned on the light.
“What are you doing?” Jade squinted as her eyes adjusted from dark to light.
“I was saving it for a surprise, but since you can’t wear it—” He ducked into the closet. “Of course, you weren’t pregnant when I had the idea.” Max emerged with the little black dress swinging from a pink satin hanger. “Happy late anniversary. I’ve been so busy with football we never got to celebrate.”
“Oh, Max.” Jade scrambled out of bed, prancing across the cold floor. “How did you . . . you? You’re the one Brenda promised it to?”
“You talked about it like, I don’t know, it was the holy grail. I felt bad I cost you the chance to own the dress, so I asked Brenda if she could look into it.”
“Max, she went to Mrs. Vance’s for Sunday tea all fall. Awful tea according to her too. Just for a chance at the closet.”
“She did it for you, Jade.”
“She did it for you, Max.” Jade slipped her hand the length of the dress. “I love it. Simply love it.” She thanked Max with a tender kiss. “I think this is about the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
“Better than the diamond wedding bracelet I gave you?”
“Okay, the second best thing . . .” Jade held up the dress. “A real Coco Chanel.” Joy bubbled in her chest. “What a great end to a great day. Hey, this will motivate me to get back into shape after the girls are . . .” She cocked her ear. “Do you hear music?” She hung the dress in the closet and slipped on her robe and slippers.
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Max tugged on a sweatshirt and worked his feet into his sneakers.
From the shadows of the living room, Jade watched the lawn fill with flickering firelight—torches and lamps. “Oh, Max, you have to see this.”
“I’m seeing it.”
Cars streamed down the road, turning into the drive, parking askew on the lawn. Players, parents, faculty, boosters, fans swarmed the house.
The pep band gathered to one side. But lining the front was the entire Warrior starting team.
As the music started, soft and brassy, Max grabbed Jade’s hand and led her to the porch. The November air was thick with frost and emotion. It had to be nearly midnight.
The tiki torch brigade grew wider. More cars. More grateful fans.
“Coach, Coach, Coach, Coach, Coach . . .” The chant chased and echoed, rising loud, bold.
“Give it up for Coach Benson.” Cheers, whistles, and applause.
Max moved to the first step. “Evening, all. What’s going on?”
Jade leaned against him. A yard full of red and gold birds. Only the kind that played football on Friday nights.
“We just want to say thanks, Coach.” Calvin stepped forward. “For chasing us all down, especially me, and giving us a chance.”
“You believed in us, Coach,” a voice called.
“You boys did it. You worked hard. And I couldn’t have done it without Hines and Haley.” He motioned for the coaches to join him on the steps. “And all the volunteers.”
The volume from the band rose. Trumpets sounded a low, lingering note. The players linked arms and began to sing, gently swaying back and forth.
In hallowed halls, we remember you
Colby High, beacon of learned truth.
Chills skirted over Jade’s skin, and not from the nip in the breeze. From the voices. From the hearts. Gathered on her lawn.
Max drew her close, the alma mater song vibrating in his chest.
In red and gold, we’ll fight to win,
Return to your teachings, again and again.
So we sing to you, Colby High,
You’re in our memories dear and nigh.
To you our loyalty we give,
To your victory, we’ll always live.
As the last note rang out, Jade peered toward the stars, almost imagining that heaven paused to sing along. Thank you, Jesus.
Days and nights would come and go. Football seasons dawn and fade. But for these forty Warrior players, for the town, the school, Max and Jade, Hines and Haley, tonight would live in hearts forever.
Max’s cheeks glistened in the firelight.
“Max?”
“Yeah?”
“I think we’re looking at what God can do.”