Liann Rivers gathered up the silk flag, saber, and wooden rifle, then opened the door to the blast furnace outside the high school gymnasium. Late July in Texas never felt this hot when she visited Aunt Chin Mae and Uncle Bert way back when. However, during those days she'd done more wading in the Lampasas River and cruising around Belton Lake on Uncle Bert's boat than trudging across asphalt parking lots.

“See you on Monday morning,” she called over her shoulder. Four days. That's all the time she had to listen to the CD in her purse and choreograph a routine for the Starlight High School marching band's flag team.

She crossed the parking lot and squinted at the figures over at the football practice field. The Starlight Yellowjackets—varsity football hopefuls, the band director told her. Here she was, in football country. Ironic that the athletic department could afford a full staff working with the team, even though the Human Resources director had talked to her about the district's budget cutbacks. She gritted her teeth. But she'd walked into the job here, eyes completely open. Almost.

Footsteps behind her on the asphalt made her turn around. It was Jessica, the band director, jogging in her direction and carrying a yellow lump of fabric.

“I forgot—here's your Yellowjackets spirit shirt.” Jessica stopped and held up a shirt to Liann.

“My spirit shirt?” She could unfold it, but then she'd drop her equipment. She managed to pinch it between her fingers. Yellow was
not
her color.

“For Yellowjackets Spirit Day on Fridays.” Jessica nodded solemnly as she wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “Every Friday during football season, we wear our Yellowjackets shirts to support the team.”

Oh yes, the team. As if football players' and coaches' egos needed the support. Texas high school football was part of the religion in every town during the fall. Mere teachers didn’t qualify for the sacred distinction.

She put on a smile. “I'll remember that. Thanks.”

Jessica smiled. “I'm glad you're with us. It's a blessing in disguise, really. The district was ready to pull the color guard program from band, but I couldn't let them do that. I begged them to give us one more year. You were the perfect applicant for the job. I know you'll be able to push the girls to a higher level, especially with your cheer and gymnastics experience.”

How could she respond to Jessica without revealing her swirling emotions ? “I'm glad you think so. If anything, I’ve always been a fan of the underdog.”

“Well, we have a whole slew of them for you, then.” Jessica glanced toward the gymnasium. “Plus, the band could compete in UIL marching competitions, but without our color guard, it’s not as visually dramatic or beautiful. So we’re counting on you. See you next week!” She turned and jogged back in the direction she came.

No pressure, of course. Liann shook her head and continued. She had people counting on her to make something beautiful and graceful out of a lost cause. They had no idea what had brought her here, none at all. She could relate to lost causes.

Liann stopped at Trixie, her little red 1965 T-bird that made it all the way from California to Texas with only a flat tire. Right now she wanted to kick one of those tires. Instead, she opened her trunk and dumped the gear she carried, along with the T-shirt. She did allow herself to slam the trunk shut. Trixie groaned at the gesture.

“God, I knew this whole fiasco was a possibility, but I thought things would be better here.” Liann bit her lip as she rounded the bumper and opened the car door. Even with the windows partly open, a fresh wave of heat radiated from inside the vehicle. She’d only been in the gymnasium for an hour to see her office, meet Starlight’s band director, and discuss practice schedules, the fall football games, and marching competitions in October.

Some office, too. While gushing an apology, Jessica had shown Liann a corner of the supply room next to her office. Liann should have run screaming to the Starlight Independent School District administration office and shredded her offered teaching contract right then and there. But it was too late. She was here for the school year and might as well tuck herself into the bed she'd made for herself.

Ms. Rivers, I’m afraid we’re only able to offer you a half-time position for this school year. Budget cutbacks,but we would still love to have you at SISD
, the director of Human Resources had said that morning. Half-time. She’d moved halfway across the country for a
half-time
position. Not as cheerleading coach either, for the Starlight squad. With her resumé, she figured she’d get the plum position.

We can use you as our color guard coach, since we’re rebuilding the team.
And she thought she’d left her color guard days behind her forever.

Liann stuck the key in Trixie’s ignition. Staying in California was not an option. All doors had closed there, and she needed to put as much distance as she could between herself and Matt. It was better for everyone that way. She missed her parents. But Aunt Chin Mae and Uncle Bert had offered her their guest apartment over the garage when they learned she’d been offered a position in Starlight. Everything seemed like an answer to prayer. Until today, when all her plans came crashing down as soon as she’d arrived in Starlight’s main administration office.

Liann turned the key and only heard clicking instead of the engine turning over. “No, no, no...” She turned the key again with the same response.

Great. Now she
would
kick her car. Uncle Bert was fishing and probably had his phone turned off so he could have some peace and quiet. Or so he said. Aunt Chin Mae was at the nail salon working, so that left her...stranded for the moment. “Lord, I sure could use a hand.”

Jake Tucker squinted across the practice field and at the parking lot. The slim figure of a young woman popped the hood of a flaming red ancient T-bird. He dragged his attention back to the boys on the field, performing defensive drills. He and the coaching team had an entire defensive roster to sort through, and by the end of July, some guys would be elated while others would prepare to warm their hind ends on the bench.

That was the way it went with football. Either you had it, or you didn’t. A few of the scrappier guys would grow as players from their freshman year onward, but four years wasn’t a long time to build on playing skills.

He glanced at his watch. They’d been at it for thirty minutes now. Time for a break. Nobody needed heat exhaustion—or worse—from working on drills in these temperatures. He was just standing there and his golden yellow polo shirt clung to his chest and back. Coach Blann was inside at his desk going through his playbook. He’d been relying on Jake more during the summer practice season, it seemed. Jake wondered if the man had health issues. But Blann never volunteered, and Jake didn’t ask.

“Take ten minutes, guys,” he shouted through his cupped hands. “Get some water and get some shade.” He glanced across the parking lot again. Now the figure had her hands propped on her hips, still staring at the car’s engine.

He might as well see if he could help. He knew something about cars. Not as much as he did about football, but enough. Heat shimmered from the parking lot.

“Hi there,” he called out to the young lady at the red car. “What seems to be the trouble?”

“Trixie.” She frowned at the vehicle and pulled her ink-black hair away from her neck, fanning herself. Her dark eyes had just a hint of an exotic tilt at the corners.

“Does it turn over, Trixie?”

“Oh,
she’s
Trixie.” The young woman pointed at the car. “No, she won’t turn over. I have no idea what’s wrong. I mean, she’s been making this rattling noise lately, but I figured it was because of the long road trip.” Her voice caught.

“I see.... I’m Coach Tucker, by the way.”

“It would be nice to meet you, under better circumstances.” She swallowed and placed her hand on her forehead. “I have no idea why she chose now to quit. Better than on the road or in the middle of nowhere, but this just caps off my day perfectly. Never mind...” She shook her head.

“Let me see what I can do.” Jake stepped around the open driver’s side door and slid into the seat. He turned the key. Only a clicking noise in response. Battery or alternator? He wasn’t sure. Or maybe it was the starter.

“Do you think it’s the battery?” She bit her lip. “That would be an easy fix.”

“I don’t think so. Can your mom or dad give you a ride home?”

She fixed a glare on him then softened her features. “My parents live in California. I think that would be a bit of a stretch for them to tote me home.”

“Oh.” He studied her face a little more closely. “Sorry, you almost look young enough to be a student. I thought you might be here for late summer registration.”

“Ha! So what
grade
do you think I’m in?” She blinked, showing him a sassy grin. When he first arrived, he thought she’d been ready to crumble and fall into a pool of tears. Thankfully, she hadn’t, although it was touch and go at first.

“A senior, of course.” He cleared his throat. “So, you can’t be old enough to be a parent of a high schooler, either. You must be a teacher.”

She nodded. “Just moved to Starlight. I’m coaching color guard.”

“Good luck on that one.”

“What’s wrong with the color guard?”

“They have nowhere else to go but up. If they don’t improve this year, the school board is prepared to shut down the program.”

“Is that right?” She propped her hands on her hips once again.

“I’m just tellin’ you what I heard.” He had a feeling that when she heard challenges like that, she’d try to prove someone wrong. He liked that. She had a winner’s mentality. Plus a playful grin that even now melted into a scowl at her car.

“Well, I’m not going to whip anyone into shape if I’m stuck here. My aunt’s at work and my uncle’s out fishing. I don’t know a soul in town.”

“You know me.”

“Ha. Hardly. But, do you know of a good towing service? I don’t have Triple-A anymore.” She shook her head. “I guess I should be thankful I didn’t break down like this during the move.”

“I can call Herb Bush. He’s a good friend of your uncle. Retired Army, has a tow truck for hire and he’ll take Trixie anywhere you like. Even the junkyard.” He couldn’t resist teasing her, just to see the spark in her eyes.

“Not hardly. She’s a '65 T-bird. But seriously, if you could give me his number, I’ll call him myself.” She gestured with her head toward the practice field. “I think your team is ready to get practicing again. Either that, or they’re trying really hard to hear what we’re talking about.”

Jake glanced over his shoulder. The squad of varsity hopefuls lined up along the chain link fence that separated the practice field from the parking lot. Great. Now he’d hear the guys ribbing him when he returned. Just let ’em try it.

He pulled out his cell phone and called Aunt Zalea. “Hey, Aunt Zalea...it’s Jake. Is Uncle Herb around? Someone at the high school is broken down, needs a tow.”

“Hey, honey. He’s just sittin’ here, staring at the back of his eyeballs, letting the ice melt in his sweet tea.” Aunt Zalea’s drawl crossed the phone line. Jake could just make out mumbling in the background, something about not taking a nap, just reading a book. “Well, Herb, you’ve been on that same page for thirty minutes now. Okay, Jake. He’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”

Jake ended the call. “Herb’s on his way. If you take her anywhere, don’t go to Starlight Auto. Go to Biff’s.”

“Biff’s?”

BOOK: Counting on Starlight

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