“WHAT THE HELL do you think you’re doing?” Sam asked, not sure when he had ever felt as disappointed in one of his children as he did right now.
Will glared at him as if he were the one in the wrong, and said nothing.
“Since when do you start lying about where you’re going and with whom!” Sam continued, his temper heating up all the more.
“Like you’d ever know the difference,” Will muttered.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam demanded sharply.
“It means, Dad…” Will countered, an edge of belligerence creeping into his voice, “that all you care about—all you’ve ever cared about—is your stupid company.”
Sam recoiled with hurt. “That’s not true and you know it.”
“Oh, yeah?” Will’s shoulders slouched and he slid the tips of his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans. “Then how come you’re never home?”
“Because someone has to earn the living that puts a roof over your head and clothes on your back and pays for your Jeep and the four-plus years of college ahead of you. Not to mention all the other expenses.”
Sam provided a damn good lifestyle for his kids. Up until right now he’d thought they had all not only appreciated his efforts but had been proud of his hard-won success.
“Whatever,” Will exhorted sarcastically.
Realizing this was a discussion that should be continued at home, Sam nodded at the still-closed flaps on the pup tent and the muffled sounds of someone moving around inside. “I take it that’s Amanda in there.”
Abruptly, Will’s expression grew protective though no less surly. “Let’s just leave her out of this, okay, Dad?” he said shortly. “This is between you and me.”
To their left, another figure stepped through the trees.
Sam swore silently. Amanda Sloane’s father was the last person he wanted to see at this moment. Roger Sloane looked at the pup tent. “Amanda, get out here right now.”
Amanda slipped out through the flaps of the tent. She was fully dressed and looked braced for the worst. Roger just looked at her and shook his head. “Get in the truck.”
“I-it’s not as bad as it looks,” Amanda sputtered.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” her father said grimly, glaring at both Will and Amanda.
“We just wanted to spend the night together!” Amanda continued.
“That’s obvious.”
Sam looked at Amanda’s father, hating the fact any of them was in this situation. “I apologize for any part my son played in this,” he said stiffly.
Roger’s jaw shot out pugnaciously. “You damn well should.”
“I can guarantee you it won’t happen again,” Sam continued, with a stern look at Will.
“You’re right about that, too, because she will never see him again.” Roger took Amanda by the elbow. Amanda mouthed I’ll call you at Will, then flounced off, shoulders back, head high.
Sam turned back to Will. “Damn it, Will, you know better than this.”
Will shrugged and continued to look at Sam as if he were a stranger. “You’re a fine one to talk, considering the fact you got Mom pregnant before you were married.”
Sam had known this would come up someday, given the fact Will had been born seven months after he and Ellie had married. “I don’t want you making the same mistakes your mother and I did.” He didn’t want his son having his youth and freedom taken from him before he was even eighteen.
Will studied him with resentment. “So what are you saying, Dad?” he demanded quietly. “That you wouldn’t have married Mom if she hadn’t been pregnant with me?”
“No,” Sam returned evenly, wanting to make it clear about this much. “I’m saying your mother and I would have gotten married—eventually—but we would not have run off and eloped in secret when we had both just turned eighteen. We would have waited until we were old enough to take on such a big responsibility.”
“Did you regret sleeping with her?” Will grabbed his shirt and shrugged it on.
“No,” Sam said firmly. Nor did he regret marrying her. He’d had a responsibility to Ellie and he’d met it.
“Then what makes you think I’m going to regret what happened here tonight with Amanda?” Will retorted coolly.
Sam frowned at the smug know-it-all-quality of Will’s tone. This rebellious side of him hadn’t been there when Ellie was alive. “The situations are entirely different, Will,” Sam said, hanging on to his temper by a shred. “I grew up with your mom. I had been dating her for three years when we first made love.”
“So?” Will snarled. “Amanda knows the score. She knows two people don’t necessarily have to be in love to make love.”
“But they should be, Will,” Sam said heavily.
Will arched a sardonic brow. Offered another insufferably smug smile. “Oh, really, Dad. Is that what you tell yourself and Kate?”
Shocked silence fell at the campsite. Even though she was standing on the perimeter, Sam could see that Kate’s face had tightened in the flickering firelight. “Where did you get an idea like that?” Sam demanded.
“Come on, Dad.” It was Will’s turn to look impatient. Angry. Resentful. “I see the way you look at Kate.”
“You’re out of line, Will,” Sam warned, knowing whatever had happened between him and Kate was their business, not Will’s.
“No. You are.” Will glared at Sam and sneered. “With all your ‘Do as I say not as I do’ moralizing. All I’m doing here is the same thing you’re doing—using some girl to help me forget all the lousy things that have happened to me this past year.” His voice rose emotionally. “And the truth is, right now, only two things make me feel even halfway decent, one of them’s playing football, and the other’s being with Amanda. And for your information, we haven’t gone all the way—yet. I sure as hell would like to, but she’s been holding me off.”
Sam shoved both hands through his hair, not sure whether to be relieved or distressed by what Will had blurted out. “Ah, Will.”
“Look—” Will shrugged at him, more belligerent than ever “—you wanted the truth, you got it. Now can we go home or not?”
WILL WAS BARELY in the door of the locker room the next morning when Coach Marten singled him out with an icy, disapproving look. “McCabe. Get your butt in my office. Now!”
Every eye turned in Will’s direction.
Great. After last night, this is just what I need. Will tried to look cool as he set his duffel down next to his locker.
“Bring that with you,” Coach said.
With every eye in the room still on him, Will picked it up and followed Coach Marten down the hall.
Coach had barely shut the door when he turned to Will with a censuring glare and said, “You’re off the team.”
Will blinked, sure he hadn’t heard right. This could not be happening.
Coach nodded at a cardboard box in the corner. “I’ve already cleaned out your locker.”
Will stared at Coach nonplussed. He knew he hadn’t been doing that great at practice, but as far as he knew he hadn’t done anything to deserve this kind of humiliation. “Why are you doing this?”
Coach folded his beefy arms across his chest and continued to look at Will as if he were some half-rotted piece of trash. “To protect the integrity and reputation of the team.”
Will blinked. Was this a dream? A nightmare with no end? “What do I have to do with that?” Will said, his voice dropping back to its usual surly register.
“Everything, as it happens.” When Will still didn’t get it, Coach elaborated, “Amanda Sloane’s father called me last night after Amanda got home. He was pretty darn upset. And with good reason.”
Despite his decision to show no emotion in this dressing-down, Will stiffened with resentment. He met Coach Marten’s glance. “What happened between me and Amanda last night is no one’s business but ours.”
Coach shook his head, sadness coming into his eyes. “That’s simply not true, Will,” he returned, almost kindly. “Everything you say and do as an individual reflects back on this team and this school. And you have only to open up a newspaper to prove it. Don’t believe me?” A challenging expression on his face, Mike picked up a stack of laminated newspaper articles on his desk and handed them to Will. “Read the headlines to me.”
Now he felt as if he were in first grade. Will read rotely, “‘Six Football Players Kicked Off Southern High Team.’” Will scanned the article quickly. “They were caught breaking into houses and stealing stereos.” Will looked up. “But I didn’t do anything like that,” he protested.
Mike merely lifted his brow. “Read the headlines on the article underneath it.”
“‘Three Basketball Players Arrested on Rape Charges.’” Will felt a flush start in his chest and move up his neck into his face. “I didn’t do anything like that, either.”
“Then you’re telling me Amanda Sloane is not underage? And that she had her father’s permission to be camping out with you last night?”
The heat in Will’s chest and face intensified. He looked at Coach. “I’m underage, too.”
“It doesn’t make any difference in the eyes of the law, Will. If her father wants to press charges for statutory rape, you can be tried as a juvenile.”
Will swallowed. “But we didn’t go all the way…” How many times was he going to have to repeat this?
“You don’t have to go all the way with an underage girl to be charged for sexual battery or molestation.”
Will wet his lips, beginning to panic. “Is Amanda’s dad going to do that?”
“He was.” Coach Marten sighed, looking grimmer than ever. “Until I talked him out of it.”
God. All they’d wanted to do was to have a little fun. Get away from their folks for a while. Will tried again to explain this really wasn’t such a big deal, everyone did not need to get all bent out of shape about a little making out in a tent. Especially when what they had done was tame by other standards. “Kids our age have sex all the time, Coach,” Will said.
Mike’s glance hardened. “So in other words this kind of behavior is nothing new for you,” he assumed, still glaring at Will.
“Yes. No. I…” Will fell silent. He didn’t care what happened, what anyone said. No way was he admitting to Coach or anyone else that he was still a virgin.
Coach leaned toward Will earnestly. “Listen to me, Will. I don’t care what it’s like in Dallas or anywhere else for that matter. I expect every player on this team to be of good moral character. And that means doing the right thing no matter what the circumstances. Encouraging some underage girl you barely know—never mind love—to sneak out with you and sleep with you, is not a commendable action.”
So his dad had said—repeatedly—on the drive home last night, while Kate sat beside him, silent, tense, and—for Counselor Kate—way too quietly. Which made Will wonder. Had he inadvertently hit the nail on the head with his wild accusations? Will couldn’t imagine his dad with any other woman, not after he’d been married to Mom for such a long time. On the other hand, Kate was there. She was extremely good-looking. Kind. Sweet. And she was there…in the same way that Amanda was handy…
Aware Coach was still waiting for Will to say the magic words that would get him out of such deep trouble, Will took another breath and said, “No one was supposed to find out about last night, Coach.”
“So what are you telling me, that you’re only going to demonstrate integrity when someone is watching you?” Coach waited, letting his words sink in before he continued, “Or are you going to be the kind of man this team and your family can be proud of all the time? The truth…behaving with integrity…should be the basis of all that you do, on and off the field. And until you can demonstrate to me that you not only understand this, but agree to live by it, you’ve got no place on my team. Now get out of here and go on home.” Coach shooed him away.
Will watched as Coach sat behind the desk. Dangerously close to tears, his voice shaking with a mixture of hurt and rage, Will warned, “If I leave, I’m not coming back.”
Coach looked at Will as if he couldn’t care less. “That’s up to you.”
Will swallowed around the lump in his throat, unable to believe this was really happening. “You’d really let this team continue without a quarterback the entire year?”
Coach shrugged, indifferent. “I’ve got other quarterbacks.”
“Not as good as me,” Will said.
“Maybe not as gifted,” Coach Marten agreed, looking Will straight in the eye, “But they have their heads on straight. And right now that’s what I want to see.” Coach dismissed him with a nod.
Will’s temper flew out of control. “Bull.”
Mike lifted his head in surprise. “Excuse me?” No one spoke to him like that.
“You’ve been looking for an excuse to kick me off this team since the first day I started,” Will accused emotionally. “And the truth is, Coach, that it has nothing to do with anything I’ve done or not done, on or off the field. It has to do with a twenty-year-old grudge you have against my dad and the fact you’re pissed off because my dad lived and your kid died the summer before his senior year.”
Coach Marten’s face turned white, then red. “You’re right.” He zeroed in on Will with lethal anger. “I do hold your father accountable for my son’s death.”
“My dad wasn’t even in the car when your son was killed!”
“No, he wasn’t. But he knew Pete was drinking a lot that summer and he should have either stopped it or come to me and told me what was going on so I could have stopped it.”
Will shook his head, outraged. “You can’t seriously expect that my dad should have ratted on your kid!”
Again, that deadly glare, generated by years of resentment. “If it saved Pete’s life…yes, I do. Because that’s what a true friend, what a person of character, would have done.”
Will shook his head, as disgusted at Coach’s blindness as at his lack of fairness. “You’re just looking for a scapegoat so you don’t have to feel guilty for your part in his death.”
“My part,” Coach echoed, incensed.
Will kicked at his duffel bag. “If your son and the rest of the team was drinking that summer, it’s probably because you drove them to it!”
“You’re wrong about that.”
“Am I?”
“A lot of things happened that year that brought dishonor to the team,” Mike continued. “And none of it had anything to do with how strictly I ran my team or how much peer pressure there was to run wild—that’s there every year. It was the leadership of the group of kids involved, their disregard for the rules, that set the tone of the entire year.”
Will had only to flip through his parents’ high school year-books to know that Sam had been one of the leaders of their high school class as well as the football team. “So, now what?” Will said contemptuously, guessing where this was all going. “You want to hold me responsible for my dad getting Mom pregnant, too?”
“And reneging on a college football scholarship he had already accepted, yeah.”
“So first there was Pete’s death, then Ellie’s pregnancy with me, then the ditched scholarship.” Will ticked off the transgressions on his fingers one by one.
Coach’s glance hardened. “That about sums it up.”
“Three strikes and you’re out,” Will continued.
“Yeah.”
“And now you’ve completed the cycle of What Comes Around Goes Around by shifting the blame for my dad’s actions to me.”
Coach shook his head. “I blame you for your actions, Will.”
“Yeah, well you just keep telling yourself that,” Will turned for the door, duffel bag in hand.
“I have not been unfair to you,” Coach said as Will reached the door. “And if you think about it, you’ll know that.”
“I’ll tell you what I know,” Will snapped angrily. He turned, his hand on the doorknob. “My dad was within his rights to turn down that scholarship if he didn’t want to play. His turning it down gave someone else a chance, and he made it through college and made a success of himself, anyway. As for what happened between him and my mom, that was their business, not yours, not the team’s. And as for your son? Pete’s drinking was his problem. Pete was responsible for his actions that summer. If Pete drove drunk, and died because of that, then his death was his fault. Not yours. Not my dad’s. Not anyone else’s.” By the time Will finished, he was crying openly. Coach was as red in the face as a lobster.
“Get out,” Mike barked.
It was all Will could do not to turn around and punch him. “Gladly.”
SAM WAS JUST GETTING ready to leave for the office when Will stormed in the door a little after eight and slammed his athletic gear to the floor. “What are you doing back so soon?” Sam asked.
Will threw his keys down on the front hall table. “I got kicked off the football team.”
Kate came out of the kitchen, where she’d been busy preparing breakfast for Lewis and Kevin. She looked as surprised as Sam felt. “Why?”
Will turned to glare at Kate. “Because Amanda’s father called your father and told him what happened last night. That’s why.”
Kate looked as stunned by the latest turn of events as Sam was. “What about Amanda?” Kate asked softly. “Is she going to get kicked off the cheerleading squad?”
“Worse. She’s being shipped off to an all-girl’s boarding school in Virginia later this afternoon.”
Sam frowned. “That’s awfully quick.” Almost too quick.
“Not in this case. Her aunt is the headmistress there,” Will reported glumly.
Having recovered from the shock, Kate asked Will gently, “How do you know all this?”
“Because,” Will replied in frustration, “I just came from Amanda’s house. I went over to apologize to her father about last night, and he told me never to come by there again. He doesn’t want me anywhere near Amanda, ever again.”
“Well, that can hardly come as a surprise,” Sam pointed out grimly, sorry Will was having to find out the hard way there were stinging consequences to his actions. “Given the fact you’ve only been dating her a few weeks and you’ve already gotten her into enormous trouble.”
Will swung around to face Sam as he defended himself hotly. “It wasn’t all my idea.”
“You still should have known better,” Sam said.
Silence fell between them. Will sank down onto the bottom steps of the staircase. He put his head in his hands and muttered, “Forget that. What about football? How am I going to get back on the team?” He turned to Sam to bail him out.
“Don’t look at me.” Sam shook his head in escalating disapproval. “You got yourself into this mess. You’re going to have to get yourself out.”
The pleading look in his eyes faded as Will gaped at Sam. “You’re supposed to be on my side!” he said angrily.
I am on your side, Sam thought. That’s why I’m doing this. “Actions have consequences, Will,” Sam said firmly.
“So what am I supposed to do now?” Will stormed, leaping to his feet. “Just give up football? Not even play my senior year?”
As much as Sam wanted to give Will an easy solution to his problems, he knew he couldn’t do it. The only way Will would learn anything from this was if he had to figure out how to bail himself out of the trouble he’d gotten himself into. “I’m sure when you think about it for a while, you’ll figure it out.”
Will looked at Sam as if he hated him with every fiber of his being. “If Mom were here, I wouldn’t have to even try.” Tears in his eyes, Will dashed up the stairs. Sam turned to Kate, who looked every bit as disappointed in him as Will had. “I can’t believe you picked now to try a tough love approach with him,” Kate said.
“Why not?” Knowing the other kids did not need to hear any of this, Sam took Kate’s arm and steered her into his study. He shut the door behind them. “Nothing else has worked.”
Kate stepped away from him. She looked as if she didn’t relish being alone with him any more than he wanted to be alone with her. “You haven’t really tried anything else,” she said.
“How would you know?” Sam challenged, irritated to discover Kate finding fault with him, too. “You’ve only been here a few weeks yourself.” He went over to his desk and began stuffing papers into his briefcase.
Kate took a deep breath and said, more gently still, “I just think you ought to try talking to him, that’s all.”
“No,” Sam said, wanting them to be clear about this much. He looked Kate straight in the eye. “You think I ought to try to bail him out. And I’m not going to do that. I’m glad Will went to see Amanda’s father. It means he is starting to try to take responsibility for his actions. But as for the rest… This is between Will and your dad. The rest of us need to stay out of it.” Kate was wrong to think otherwise.
Kate frowned. She looked at Sam as if he weren’t doing nearly enough and said curtly, “What about Amanda?”
Sam shrugged. “Starting this afternoon, she’s out of the picture.” And for that Sam was glad. Amanda and Will were not a good combination. For whatever reason, they seemed to bring out the worst in each other.
“Sam.” Kate rolled her eyes heavenward, as if praying for strength. “Just because Amanda’s being sent away doesn’t mean everything is suddenly going to be okay.”
But as far as Sam was concerned, that was exactly what it meant.
“I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT COME over,” Joyce said when Kate walked in later that afternoon.
“Where’s Dad?” She figured he might be around. In the summer he usually went home for lunch and a brief rest before returning to the school to run the evening practice.
“He’s outside on the patio.”
Kate walked outside.
Mike took one look at her face. “You heard.” He picked up his glass of iced tea and took a long thirsty gulp.
“Yes.” Kate had expected Mike to defend his actions hotly. Instead he looked as upset and depressed as Will. Well, that was something, she guessed as she sat next to him, knowing someone had to make the peace here, for all their sakes.
“Did I drive Pete to drink?” Mike asked Kate.
Stunned, Kate looked at him. Where had this come from? “What are you talking about?” she asked cautiously. The last thing she wanted to do was to give her dad another attack of indigestion or chest pains.
Mike scowled. “Will McCabe said if Pete was drinking that summer it was probably because I drove him to it,” he said. “I want to know if you think that’s what happened, too.”
Kate swallowed. If ever there had been a moment of truth, this was it. Aware Mike was waiting for her answer, knowing whatever she did or did not say had the potential to make things that much worse, she said carefully, “I know that Pete felt a lot of pressure that summer. He didn’t want to let you or the team down.”
Mike folded his arms across his barrel chest. “Do you blame me for your brother’s death?”
Kate loved her father too much to lie to him. “I blame all of us, Dad,” she said softly. “We didn’t talk about things.”
“What do you mean?” Mike said, blustering. “We talked every night.”
“About what was expected of us,” Kate said, remembering those carefully scripted dinner table conversations well. “Not about what might be bothering us.”
Mike regarded Kate with exasperation. “I wasn’t going to coddle you.”
Joyce walked out, carrying a tray of iced tea and lemon cookies. “Kate, please don’t bring this all up.” She set the tray down on the patio table and poured Kate a glass. “Your father is upset enough already.”
Now that she was finally making some headway with her dad, getting him to face the past, Kate wasn’t about to let her mother smooth things over the surface again. Like it or not, they had to deal with Pete’s death in a more honest manner so they could all come to terms with it and move on without the lingering angst and guilt. Inwardly blessing Will for his courage, Kate said, “Tell me then when would be a good time? Tomorrow? Never?”
Her mom gave her a warning look. “Rehashing the past won’t change anything,” Joyce countered.
“Except,” Kate said heavily, “maybe the future.”
MIKE HAD TO HAND IT to Kate. She had guts, that little girl of his. He turned to her again. “Is that the way you really feel?”
“Yes, Dad, it is.”
A strained silence fell as Mike thought about that. He had tried so hard to be a good parent. It hurt, knowing he had failed at the thing he had wanted to do best. It hurt even worse, thinking he might have been the driving reason behind Pete’s unprecedented recklessness that summer. He had always prided himself on knowing his players’ hearts, how to teach them to be the kind of men the community could be proud of, and to get the very best out of them. And yet he had failed so utterly when it came to his own son. How was that possible? And more important, why had it occurred?
Suddenly Mike had to know, if for no other reason than to prevent it from happening again. “I know you were only twelve at the time. But you’ve had a lot of time to reflect on the past. Tell me what you think happened, Kate.” When she didn’t reply right away, Mike pressed her. “I’m man enough to take the truth, Kate.” If he could dish it out, well by God, he could take it. And if this helped prevent him from making the same mistake again…then any hurtful things said would be well worth it.
Still looking wary, Kate said, “I think you put too much pressure on Pete to be the best football player Laramie had ever had.”
Mike immediately felt his dander go up. “Pete never complained to me. Not once. I tried to make it fun for him. That’s why I always included Sam in our drills, from a very young age. I wanted it to feel like a game to them, instead of work.”
“I know that, Dad.” Kate’s glance turned compassionate as she reached over and touched his arm gently, reassuringly. “And it was fun for both of them, for a long time, until Pete and Sam reached their senior year and then the pressure to perform—Pete’s desire to please you, to make you proud—just got to him. So instead he internalized it, and when that got to be too much, he drank and behaved recklessly.”
Mike sat back in his chair and numbly tried to digest what Kate was telling him. “Your brother told you this?”
Kate sat back in her chair, too. “Not in so many words, but I overheard him and Sam talking about how vital it was for them both to get big-time football scholarships one afternoon. Sam seemed to be taking the pressure in stride, but Pete was pretty stressed out about the scouts coming to see him. He was worried he would freeze up under pressure. Sam kept trying to reassure him it would be okay, but I don’t think Pete really believed that.”
Pete hadn’t, Mike thought. And possibly for good reason. In crisis situations, no matter how well prepared he was, Pete’d had a tendency to freeze up. It had been Sam who had kept his cool. And more than once, with quick thinking and the courage to ditch the plan and follow his instincts, saved the day, and managed to score, anyway.
“When did Pete’s drinking start, do you know?” It bothered Mike to admit he had never seen any evidence of it. Because he hadn’t wanted to see it?
“It’s hard to know.” Kate lifted her hands helplessly as Joyce continued to pace nervously, wringing her hands all the while. “I never saw any evidence of it until that summer, when I saw him come in drunk twice, when you and Mom weren’t around. Both times, he said it was just a senior thing that all the kids were doing, and he swore me to secrecy. I didn’t want him to get in trouble, so I never told what I’d seen and heard. If I had…” Kate’s voice caught and tears welled in her eyes. Joyce teared up, too, as the guilt and sadness that had weighed on them all for years came back to hit them full-force. “Well, it might have had a very different outcome. So you see, Dad,” Kate continued, wiping away her tears, and looking Mike straight in the eye. “All this time you’ve been blaming the wrong person for not coming to you in time to prevent Pete’s death.”
Mike knew Kate had kept a secret this powerful and damaging to herself all this time for only one reason. She’d been afraid he would not be able to forgive her any more than he’d been able to forgive Sam. He grimaced, realizing he hadn’t just failed Pete, but Kate, too.
Joyce grabbed Kate’s hand. “Honey, you are not responsible for what happened to your brother,” she said fiercely.
“Pete is,” Mike said in a voice leaden with pain.
Kate and Joyce turned to him in shock.
Mike knew it was past time he put his own need for exoneration aside and faced the truth it had taken a belligerent kid like Will McCabe to get him to admit. “Pete was aware it was against the law for him to be drinking. He certainly knew better than to drive drunk,” Mike concluded sadly. “He did it, anyway. And more than anyone, paid the consequences.”