Last Chance Hero (2 page)

“Well, actually, not a lot, but I've known some. A few. Three, maybe. No, not that many, but there was this one girl . . . Nope, now that I think about it, she was just mad at her boyfriend and he was on the team. I guess when you get right down to it, there's just you. You're the only one.”

Jess's fork stopped halfway to her mouth as she turned to stare. Seriously? What was his problem? Was he really expecting everyone he met to fall at his feet in admiration because he knew how to throw a football, or kick one, or whatever quarterbacks did with footballs?

Andy met her gaze with a look both grave and sorrowful. She shook her head and was about to dismiss him for good and turn back to her breakfast when she noticed the little crinkles around his brown eyes and the tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth. She narrowed her eyes, and Andy's grin broke through.

“I am sorry. Truly.” He laughed. “I'm not being very neighborly, am I? Truth is, you're welcome here in Last Chance. We are glad you came. Honest.”

Andy's grin was infectious, and as annoyed as Jess had been with him a minute before, she found herself returning it.

“Friends?” Andy stuck out his hand.

Jess slipped her hand in his. “Friends, I think.”

“Are you about done?” Rita came up behind Jess and put her
hand on her shoulder. “They're fixing to bring the tables and chairs over from the church, and I need to get over there and see about that. You can come if you want.”

“I think I'll walk on back to the motel, but thanks.”

“Got your key?”

Jess patted her pocket. “Right here.”

“All right then. See you after a while.” Rita headed out the door, and Jess could see her waving her hand over her head and calling to someone as she strode across the parking lot.

“Rita is a dynamo, isn't she?” Jess turned to Andy with a smile.

“Wait till you get to know her better. Dynamos come to sit at her feet and learn.”

“I'll just bet.”

Jess forked in the last bite of eggs and toast as Juanita appeared on the other side of the counter.

“Here, let me give you these checks.” She placed one ticket on the counter in front of Jess and another in front of Andy. “You don't need to rush, but we'll be closing here in a minute to get ready for the big shindig tonight, so if you don't mind, I'll just run these for you now.”

Jess had a panicked second or two as she looked around for her purse before she remembered where it was—safely tucked in the top drawer of the dresser in Room 3 of the Last Chance Motel. Her hand flew to her mouth.

“Oh my goodness, Juanita, I don't have any money. I went for a run this morning and then stopped by the motel office for some coffee, and before I could think to grab my purse, Rita brought me here. If you can give me twenty minutes, I'll run back and get my wallet. I am so, so embarrassed!”

Juanita flapped a hand. “Don't worry about it. I'll just catch you next time. It's not a big deal.”

“Let me.” Andy picked up Jess's check, added his own, and
handed them both to Juanita with a couple bills he pulled from his wallet. “Don't need any change.”

“No, I can't let you do that.” Jess made a grab for the ticket, but Juanita had already whisked it away. She turned back to Andy with a resigned sigh. “Well, thank you, although I'd have been happy to go get my purse.”

“I know, but this'll save you a trip. It's getting hot out there.” He stood up as Jess slid from her stool and followed her to the door. “Can I give you a ride? Truck's air-conditioned.”

Jess's first inclination was to say thanks but no thanks. She had already taken enough from Andy for one day, from the hard time he gave her about football to the price of breakfast, but he was right about one thing. It was hot, and getting hotter. And hot in Last Chance was nothing like hot in San Francisco. She hesitated just a second. “Thanks, I'd appreciate that.”

It was only a couple minutes' drive before Andy's truck pulled into the driveway of the Last Chance Motel, and he used the entire time talking about the Red Chile and Bluegrass fiesta that night at the Dip 'n' Dine.

“Everyone for miles around comes. Tickets sell out as soon as they go on sale. They set up tables outside and there's live music and the best food you'll ever eat. And every one of these fiestas has a different kind of music. Tonight is bluegrass, of course, but they've had jazz, and classic rock 'n' roll, and I think they're planning one to coincide with the chile harvest called ‘It's Chile Country.'”

Jess had a feeling she knew where this was heading and tried to forestall it by opening the pickup door and starting to get out. “Sounds like you'll have a lot of fun. Thanks for the ride.”

“So, can I pick you up? About 7:00?”

“I don't have a ticket, and if they're sold out . . .” Jess finished her thought with a shrug. “But thanks anyway.”

“But I do.” Andy leaned across the seat with a grin. “The town council gave me two tickets when I got here. Sort of a welcome home. And one of them will just go to waste if you don't use it.”

“I don't think so, Andy.” Jess wanted to make her own place in Last Chance, and she had no intention of turning up tonight on the arm of the local football hero. “But thanks again.”

She started to swing the door shut, but Andy stopped her. “Wait.”

Jess stopped. She was really beginning to get annoyed. Andy may have still been in the cool cab of his truck, but she was standing in the heat of a gravel parking lot. The hum of her window air conditioner six feet away called her, and she longed for a shower.

“Here.” Andy opened his glove box and pulled out a slip of card stock. “It's my extra ticket. It will just go to waste if you don't use it. If I see you there, I can introduce you to a few people. Or not. But if you go, I'm pretty sure you won't be sorry.”

He lifted his hand in a little salute as he leaned back behind the wheel before shifting into Drive. Jess heard the tires take hold in the gravel as she pulled her key from her pocket and fitted it into the lock. What had she gotten herself into? Since a family vacation through the Southwest when she was in middle school, she had dreamed of practicing medicine in a place like Last Chance. The research she had done on rural medicine, southwestern New Mexico, and the San Ramon Medical Center before she made her final choice was detailed and exhaustive. That's how she did things. How then had she failed to consider that there were people involved, with their own thoughts and ideas about her work? The answer came to her, and she winced as the door opened and a blast of overchilled and slightly stale air engulfed her. Because all too often, the one element she left out when making her minutely detailed plans was other people.

E
xcept for the fact that it stood empty and deserted, Last Chance High looked exactly as it had ten years earlier when Andy and the rest of his class filed onto the football field in caps and gowns while the marching band played “Pomp and Circumstance.” It was the same long, low, series of windowless brick buildings, built at a time in the mid-twentieth century when it was considered prudent to have a school that could also serve as a bomb shelter, should the need arise. Still guarding the front courtyard, a bronze puma, ears back and teeth bared, snarled from a brick pedestal.

Andy drove around to the back of the school and parked by the gym under the freshly painted “Reserved for Coach Ryan” sign. For a moment he just sat and watched the water from the sprinklers shoot back and forth across the field. In country where only sage and cactus grew unless coaxed, the football field lay like an emerald, closely trimmed and pampered as any hothouse orchid.

“Well, might as well see what we've got.” Andy got out of his truck and let himself into the athletic complex. Newer than the rest of the school, it had been built in what had come to be known as the Glory Days, those eighty-four games without a loss, spanning nine years, when the team could do no wrong and the town stood ready to give them everything they could possibly want or need. Andy had been right in the middle of that, leading a team so
invincible that each of them knew in their hearts that no obstacle life could ever throw in their path could stand before them.

Trophy cases ran along one wall of the main lobby, and Andy stopped in front of them. A row of trophies filled one shelf, and behind each trophy hung a team picture. He leaned in for a better look. Who told them not to smile? Someone must have, because each boy stood or knelt, team jersey stretched over shoulder pads and helmet tucked under his arm, wearing the fierce scowl of a warrior. A small smile tugged at the corner of Andy's mouth, and he shook his head.

“Oh, man, we were so young. What in the world did we know?”

Behind him, the door opened and he turned to find Russ Sheppard, president of the Boosters, coming in.

“Hey, Coach. I thought that was your truck turning off the road up ahead of me.” He gestured toward the trophy case with his chin. “So, what do you think? Are we going to get any of that back?”

“Those were some days, weren't they?” Andy turned back to the case. “Something like that happens once in a lifetime, if that. Sometimes I can't believe I got to be part of it.”

“You were a lot more than part of it, son.” Russ clapped him on the shoulder. “You made a whole bunch of it happen. And I'll tell you what, we're looking for big things to happen again now that you're here.”

“Wait a minute, Russ.” Andy held up a hand and stepped back. “I think your expectations might be just a tad high there. I can promise you my best, but right now, that's all I can promise.”

“And that's all we ask.” Russ smiled and clapped Andy's shoulder one more time. “You're right. That win streak was a once in a lifetime thing, and we're all mighty proud it took place right here in Last Chance. Just give us what you've got. That's all you've ever done, but it's been enough to get the job done.”

“So what do we have to work with this year?” Andy began to move toward his office, and Russ fell in alongside him. “I saw film, of course, but I don't know any of these guys. They were, what, first and second graders when I left Last Chance?”

“You've got some good boys. Some of them show a lot of promise. Of course, it's nothing like when you were here, but maybe they just need some good coaching.”

“Russ, you need to listen to me.” Andy stopped with his hand on the door. “With one breath you're telling me that you know the Glory Days were a once in a lifetime thing and all you want from me is my best—which you know you'll have—and with the next you're talking like you can see it all unfolding like it did back then. I'm telling you right now, this is a different time and a different team. It's not fair to them to saddle them with a lot of expectations.”

“I know that.” Russ followed when Andy walked into his office. “And I know it's not fair to you either. But you've got to remember, these boys cut their teeth on the Glory Days. They may not remember much about that time, but they've heard about it, and you, all their lives. I realize things have changed. The town's a lot smaller than it was back then. Heck, we're not even in the same division we were in when you were here, but these boys are hungry. They're going to give you a hundred and fifty percent. You wait and see.”

Andy looked around the spare office without answering. How many times could he caution Russ against saddling the team with a lot of ten-year-old dreams, and how many times could Russ assure him one minute he wouldn't and then in the next let his longing for the return of the Glory Days spill all over the place? Russ wasn't alone in that either. Nearly everyone he had seen since coming back to Last Chance had found some way to work it into the conversation.

“Looks like someone did a little decorating.” Andy gestured
toward the wall behind the bare metal desk in the middle of the room, which was festooned with framed pictures and yellowed newspaper clippings.

“That was Rita, wouldn't you know.” Russ rolled his eyes. “She started a subscription to the
Arizona Daily Star
the day you got your scholarship to University of Arizona, and then when you got drafted by the Broncos, she added the
Denver Post
. I don't think she's missed an article you were mentioned in since you left Last Chance. And those on the wall are just a few of them. Most of them are pasted in that scrapbook there on top of the file cabinet.”

“Think she'd mind if I took a few of them down? I appreciate the thought, and I won't forget to tell her so, but having the athletic office look like a shrine to the coach just seems a little off to me.”

“Well, good luck with that. I've been trying to talk sense into that woman since she was elected mayor the same year I was elected town treasurer. I think it'd be easier to teach my dog to play dominos. But you've got the key now and she doesn't. I'd say fix this place up like you want it. And while you're at it, take a look around and see what you need. I can't promise we can do everything, at least not at first, but we'll sure do our best for you.” He held out his hard, calloused farmer's hand and Andy shook it. “Well, I need to get going. I was on my way into town to talk to Chris Reed about the Booster breakfast next Saturday. You got that on your calendar, right?”

“I'll be there.” Andy walked Russ to the door. “But I'd really appreciate if you'd help me temper this Glory Days talk. This year's team is the important one. Help me get that across, will you?”

“You bet.”

Russ's footsteps reverberated in the empty hall, and when they stopped, Andy stuck his head out to see what was going on. Russ stood, hands in his pockets, in front of the trophy case gazing at
pictures of teams long grown, now men with jobs and families, successes and failures, all of whom would always carry with them the knowledge that they had been part of the Glory Days.

Vehicles lined both sides of the road and filled the parking lot of the Desert Sage Salon across the street from the Dip 'n' Dine when Andy pulled his truck onto the shoulder just at the City Limit sign and switched off the engine. Stepping from the cab, he could hear in the distance the sound of banjo and bass and the low rumble of the crowd gathered to enjoy a night of music and food. He smiled as he shoved one hand in his pocket and headed back down the road. It was good to be home.

“Well, here's our hero now.” Rita, sitting at the ticket table, smiled up at him. “Where's your date? We gave you two tickets so you could bring someone, you know. We don't have a whole lot of single women in Last Chance, I know, but any one of them would have jumped at the chance to turn up on the arm of Andy Ryan.”

“I sincerely doubt that, Rita, but thanks for the vote of confidence anyway.” Andy grinned down at her as he surrendered his ticket. Jess had obviously not mentioned that he had given her one of his tickets, and if she didn't say anything, Andy certainly saw no reason to. Rita was far too eager to make him out to be more than he knew he was. Of course, most of that was Rita's unwavering mission to put Last Chance on the map, but still, he was mighty uncomfortable with it. He looked over her head, trying to find a face in the crowd who might want to talk about something other than high school football, past and future.

“Ray Braden was asking if you were coming tonight.” Rita took his ticket and crossed his name off a list attached to the clipboard in front of her. “He's sitting over yonder in that third row of tables.
He may have saved a couple seats for you. I told him you were probably bringing someone.”

Perfect.
Andy scanned the crowd until he found Ray sitting next to an attractive blonde woman Andy hadn't seen before, and he began making his way over. He and Ray had been good friends in high school but had sort of lost touch during college when Ray had gone to the University of New Mexico to study art and Andy got his scholarship to U of A.

It took a few minutes to get through the welcoming crowd, but when he finally made it, Ray looked up with a wide smile and got to his feet.

“Hey, look who turned up.” He shook Andy's hand while giving him a one-armed hug. “I was sure hoping to see you but figured I was only going to be able to hold these chairs for about five more minutes. Glad you made it.”

“Wouldn't miss it.” Andy looked down at the woman smiling up at him from the chair next to Ray's. “Hi, I'm Andy Ryan.”

“Oh, this is my wife, Lainie.” Ray dropped a hand to her shoulder. “Lainie, this is Andy. He and I grew up together. Andy was the big football hero in high school while I warmed the bench.”

Lainie held out her hand, and Andy took it in his. “It's nice to finally meet you, Andy. The town's been really looking forward to your coming home. I think Rita's even talking about a parade.”

“Nope. No parade.” Andy sat down in the chair next to Ray. “As far as I'm concerned, I'm the new coach. Period. I've got a job to do, and that's why I'm here.”

“Good luck with convincing Rita.” Ray grinned as he slid back into his own chair. “At the very least, she'll have you as the grand marshal of the Christmas parade.”

“Yeah, well . . .” It was time to change the subject. “Where's the rest of the family? Don't you guys usually travel in a pack?”

“Usually, yeah, I guess we do. But Gran stayed home tonight. Big crowds are a little much for her these days. And Steven is still at the Law Enforcement Academy. Should be home soon. And everybody else is working this clam dig. You knew Sarah got married, right? She married the owner of the Dip 'n' Dine, so she's around here somewhere.”

“I did not know that.” When Andy thought of Sarah Cooley, he thought of a skinny little kid barrel racing and roping goats at local rodeos. Hard to imagine her all grown up and married.

“This is her niece, Olivia.” Lainie put her hand around the shoulders of a little blonde girl of about seven or eight sitting on the other side of her. “Olivia, say hello to Coach Ryan.”

Olivia glanced over before returning her attention to her meal. “Hello.”

“Wow, here I thought I'd find Last Chance frozen in time, and nothing's the same. Steven at the Law Enforcement Academy? Now that I think about it, he'd be great in law enforcement, but to tell the truth, it's not something I'd have predicted.”

“He's surprised a lot of us.” Ray looked up as a tall, slender woman with a shock of pink hair over one eye approached them. “And if you ask me, here's a major reason for that. This is Kaitlyn, owner of the beauty shop across the street, sister of Chris Reed, the owner of this place, Sarah's sister-in-law, Olivia's mother, and the one who seems to have brought out the best in Steven. Kaitlyn, this is an old friend, Andy Ryan.”