“Costly, huh?” Wade sipped his beer. The town didn’t have the money? Ideas stirred in his mind.Down on the field, Tate’s team won the coin toss and lined up on the bench, presumably in batting order, while the opposing coach threw a couple of practice pitches.Wade had money. More than he could spend in a lifetime even if he was trying to empty his coffers. Why should seven-and eight-year-olds do without?Of course, nobody was saying that a machine was better than a coach.That angle merited investigation. There had to be some benefit for the batter to see an intense pair of eyes staring back at him from the pitcher’s mound. Had to get used to that.On the other hand, a nice, consistent pitch might help develop a batter’s skill.Or not. What the hell did he know about it? He would wait and learn.And ask.The first kid up to bat swung hard and connected, but the ball fouled out.“Do the teams want a pitching machine?”“I’d have to say yeah. Ever since they played in that tournament a

Wade checked his hair in the mirror, then wiped his damp palms down the thighs of his jeans. It came as a shock to realize he was nervous. More nervous than the day he’d first walked into Dixie’s Diner, hoping to gather information about the boys.Years of board meetings, shareholders meetings, press and media interviews, the occasional congressional testimony—none of those held a candle to going on a picnic with James Donald McCormick’s family.His feelings for them were growing deep. He felt as if he’d known Pops all his life. Known, truly liked and bore a deep fondness for.He was attracted to Dixie, and had examined his feelings for her for days. In addition to attraction, there was respect, admiration, and a strong liking, different from what he felt for Pops. This was a man-woman liking.The boys…he didn’t have to examine his feelings for them. He flat-out loved them. No two ways about it. He didn’t think it mattered whether the feeling came from himself or from the new heart be

A commercial came on the air. Both boys flipped over to look at Wade. “Do you have to go?” Ben asked.“Can’t he stay?” Tater begged.“Hey, thanks, guys,” Wade said before Dixie could speak. “But I’ve gotta get home and get my beauty rest.”The boys snickered and made gagging noises.Dixie opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. Wade said good-night to the boys and followed. He stood next to her, with the only light on the dark porch coming from the open front door behind him and the streetlight down the block. Two houses away, a dog barked. Such a normal sound. But Dixie didn’t feel normal. She felt…expectant. She wanted—“What?” Wade asked. “What, what?”“You looked like you wanted to say something.”Dixie chuckled. “Didn’t we have this conversation earlier today?” “It does sound familiar, albeit reversed. So, what’s on your mind?”She was tired of this seesawing of her emotions, of not knowing what to do about it. Of denying herself. She decided to go for it.“I’ve bee

“Astronomical, I’d say.”“Yeah,” Wade agreed. “Hey, listen, we should both get back to work. If you’ll point me to the office.”“Sure. Down the hall, right across from the main entrance.” “Thanks.” Wade started past the man, then paused. “We should gettogether for a beer sometime.” Then he thought better of it. “Or…not.” Carlucci nodded. “Yeah. Maybe not.”The fireman went back to his mopping while the CEO went looking for a ten-year-old.A young woman behind the counter in the school’s office looked up Ben’s classroom and gave Wade directions. He got the book to Ben and made it back to the diner, having been gone under thirty minutes total.“Thank you, Wade,” Dixie told him.“You’re welcome.” And my, he thought, how polite they’d become with each other. Polite and distant. All because he’d been unable to keep his hands and his mouth, to himself.“Dixie,” he said softly as she turned to leave. She paused, turned her head toward him. “Yes?” “Did I ruin things?”She frowned “Ruin what?

In the top half of the fourth inning the sky opened up. The only warning was a big fat drop of rain here and there. Then nothing. Then, whoosh!Even if anyone had an umbrella with them in the stands or out on the field, there was no time to get one up to prevent a serious soaking. This was no gentle shower, but a torrent of hard, cold bullets of water hurtling down with enough force to hurt.The bleachers erupted in curses and shouts as spectators scrambled down the risers to race for the shelter of their vehicles. Wade followed Dixie and Pops to the end of their bench, then they started down the stairs. He saw it happen as if in slow motion and was helpless to prevent it.Lightning shot a jagged spear from cloud to ground no more than fifty yards away. The explosive sound was deafening. The smell of sulfur stung the eyes and nostrils.In reaction, Dixie jerked and slipped on the rain-slicked stairs. To regain her balance she waved her arms wildly, but in the process she accidentally