Love at the 20-Yard Line (11 page)

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Authors: Shanna Hatfield

BOOK: Love at the 20-Yard Line
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“Let me guess, your nephews helped pick the names.” Brody gave each dog another pat on the head.

“Is it that obvious?” She offered him a cheeky grin. “Let’s go in before they slobber us to death.”

Haven led the way up the steps and was just about to open the door when it swung inward and a woman who looked like an older version of Allie folded her into a hug.

“Sweetie, we were hoping you’d get here soon. Tom and Hale both came for lunch and Wes and Tammy will be here for dinner.” Rachel Haggarty pulled Haven inside then stood with round eyes, staring at the man on her front step. “Please, come in. I’m Rachel, Haven’s mother.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Haggarty,” Brody said, trying to remember every lesson in manners his mother ever taught him.

“Please, Mrs. Haggarty is John’s mother. Just Rachel is fine,” she said, looking at Haven expectantly.

Haven finally noticed her glare and remembered her mother didn’t know anything about Brody.

“Mom, this is Brody Jackson. We… um… well, he’s a friend I met through work.” Haven took the box from Brody so he could shake her mother’s hand.

“Brody. That’s a good, strong name. Now where did you grow up, dear?” Rachel motioned Brody toward the kitchen as they followed behind Haven.

“Kansas, ma’am.” Brody glanced around the big house with wood floors and sparkling windows that looked out on a huge backyard.

“Have you lived here long?”

“No, ma’am. Just a few months.”

“And what is it you do?” Rachel took a bowl of salad from Haven and placed it in the fridge then smiled approvingly at the banana cake her husband loved so much.

“I play football. Arena football. Our season started a few weeks ago and wraps up around the end of June if we make the playoffs.”

“Football, huh? Well, I’m sure you’ll find plenty to talk about with my husband. He lives for football season,” Rachel said, asking Brody if he wanted a glass of iced tea. He shook his head but offered his thanks.

“Why doesn’t Dad go to the arena football games, Mom? I’ve got tickets if he ever wants to go.”

“You know how busy he is this time of year getting ready for spring planting, honey. He just doesn’t have time.” Rachel gave Haven a look that said she’d corner her later for a long discussion about Brody.

“Where are the guys?” Haven asked, hoping to postpone explaining to her mother why she showed up with a man who could be a professional model if he ever gave up the desire to play football.

“In the man cave. Your brothers want to go shooting. If you hurry, you can catch them and go along,” Rachel said, pointed to the kitchen door.

“Come on, Brody.” Haven grabbed his hand and hurried out the door into a large three-car garage. He noticed a shiny new pickup parked alongside a newer SUV.

“It’s down here.” Haven held open a door. He followed her down a set of steps into a basement. Mounted deer and elk heads lined one wall. Another held a big screen TV and four big recliners sat in a semi-circle in front of it. Three men stood in front of the biggest gun safe Brody had ever seen.

“Hey, there. Mom said you’re going shooting. Can we go along?” Haven approached her dad and brothers.

“Hi, sweetheart. How are you?” John Haggarty asked, engulfing his daughter in a warm hug. “You get prettier every time I see you.”

“Daddy,” Haven said, embarrassed. Before she could introduce him, Hale and Tom spied Brody standing by the steps.

“Brody, man! What are you doing here?” Tom rushed over to shake his hand before Hale could tell him to be quiet.

“Haven invited me to come along with her today.” Brody returned Tom’s handshake then walked over to shake Hale’s hand.

“You’re kidding, right?” Tom looked from Haven to Brody. Hale gave him a not so subtle elbow to the ribs when he started to say something else, causing him to clamp his mouth shut.

“Daddy, this is my friend, Brody Jackson. He’s a wide receiver on the arena football team.” Haven smiled encouragingly at Brody. “This is my dad, John.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Brody said. Haven did indeed have her father’s blue eyes although his tall, brawny frame closely resembled those of his sons.

“Pleasure’s all mine, son. So you play football,” John said, excited at the prospect of discussing the game with Brody.

He tried to hide the shock of seeing his little girl with a big, strapping man who looked like he belonged in one of the advertisements she masterminded. It was about time some boy turned her head, though.

“You two want to go shooting?” John took out a pistol and handed it to Haven. She weighed it in her hand and returned it to the gun safe, selecting one that was smaller and lighter.

“You bet we do.” Haven looked to Brody for agreement. He shrugged and smiled. He’d never gone shooting and decided it might be fun.

“You’ll need these then.” John dug around in a box and found a pair of safety glasses along with something that looked like headphones from the 1980s, handing them to Brody.

“What’s this stuff?” Brody whispered to Haven while John, Hale, and Tom were discussing which guns they should take.

“The funky shades are eye protection and those big clunky things will keep your ears from ringing. You can turn these knobs on the sides to hear voices, but it filters out the shots.” Haven showed Brody how to adjust the volume.

“Okay,” he said, impressed Haven seemed to know what she was doing.

Seeing her dressed so casually, and so at home in this rural setting, made him rethink his opinion that she was one hundred percent girly. When she smacked Tom on the back of his head at something he said, Brody decided there might be a little tomboy in her as well.

“Ready to go?” She took the ear and eye protectors from him and stuffing them in a bag along with a couple of handguns, water bottles, and some ammunition.

“Are you going to join us, Dad?” Haven asked as they walked back up the steps to the garage.

“No, sweetie. I think I’ll stick around the house with your mom this afternoon. You kids go have fun. Tom, be nice to your sister,” John cautioned. He grinned as they went out a side door of the garage to a carport where three four-wheelers were parked.

“Geez, Dad. I’m always nice to the kiddo.” Tom jumped on a four-wheeler, started it up, and roaring down the road.

“Have a good time,” John called before going in the house.

“Looks like Brody will have to ride with you, baby girl.” Hale said. He secured the bag he carried to the back of the machine with a bungee cord before starting it and going at a much slower pace down the road in the direction Tom headed.

“I guess you’re stuck with me.” Haven ran a bungee cord through the handle of the bag she carried and fastened it to a carrier on the front of the four-wheeler. She climbed on then slid up, making room for Brody to sit behind her. “Just hang on and you’ll be fine.”

“I trust you,” he said, lightly placing his hands at her waist. If he spread a little charm, he hoped to talk Haven into letting him drive the four-wheeler on the way back. He’d driven one during a job he had in high school for a few months, helping a man who had a sod farm. He learned more than he ever wanted to know about grass that summer.

“That’s good to know.” Haven started the machine and sped down the road after her brothers. Brody wrapped his arms around her and grinned, leaning closer.

“I think there’s a wild woman hiding beneath those suits and sweaters you wear,” he said as they turned into a stackyard.

Hale and Tom set targets in front of a one-ton bale of hay.

“We shoot out here because there’s no one around and the bale absorbs the shots,” Haven explained. She handed Brody the earmuffs then pulled out a bright pink pair for herself. After giving him the safety glasses, she took out two handguns and set the boxes of ammo on the four-wheeler seat.

“Are we shooting for fun or money today?” Tom asked, loading a magazine and slipping it into his gun.

“Fun,” Hale and Haven replied at the same time.

“Have you ever shot a gun before?” Hale asked as he stepped beside Haven and Brody.

Brody shook his head and listened intently as Hale gave him the basics of gun safety. It seemed every sentence ended with, “never point it at someone and always make sure the safety is on.”

Half-afraid to take the gun and half-excited to give it a try, Brody watched Tom and Hale both shoot before Haven took a turn.

He knew she was right-handed but she sighted with her left eye and shot left-handed.

“I thought she was right-handed,” Brody commented to Hale.

Hale nodded. “Haven’s at a little disadvantage in that her dominant eye and her dominant hand aren’t on the same side. She had to learn to shoot with her left hand because her right eye isn’t strong enough for her to sight with.”

They watched as Haven hit the center of the target several times in a row.

“Doesn’t look like she’s suffering too greatly from it,” Brody observed, making Hale grin.

“Nope. If she wanted, I think she could outshoot all of us, but don’t tell Tom or Wes. They like to think they’re the best.”

“Got it.” Brody high-fived Haven when she came back, all smiles. He almost bent down to kiss her then decided she might not appreciate it with her brothers watching.

“Your turn, football man.” Haven let Hale take Brody out to shoot. He showed him how to hold his arm, site, take off the safety, and smoothly pull the trigger until Brody felt comfortable with the gun.

His first few shots hit the dirt around the bale but the more he shot, the closer he came to the target. His last one hit one of the outer rings.

“Not bad for a first-timer,” Haven said, taking a drink from her water bottle then holding it out to Brody.

Hale gave Tom a look that had them both watching Haven with interest, but they wisely refrained from saying anything.

After shooting several more rounds, Tom decided to go back to the house, leaving Hale, Haven, and Brody to practice.

“Try my pistol. Let’s see how you do with it.” Hale handed Haven his gun.

“Oh, fancy. A new Ruger 9mm.” Haven examined the gun while Hale filled the magazine with cartridges. “When did you get it?”

“A few weeks ago.” Hale handed her the magazine and watched as she slid it into the gun.

The three of them walked out to where the target leaned against the bale. Hale and Brody took a few steps back, waiting for her to shoot.

She took aim and fired a few rounds, hitting the center of the target. Unexpectedly, her next shot missed the target as her arm jerked up. She dropped the arm holding the gun to her side, bent over, and madly clawed at her T-shirt.

“What’s wrong?” Hale asked, as he and Brody rushed toward her.

“Stay away!” she yelled, turning her back to the two men while trying to fish a hand down the front of her shirt without them seeing anything they shouldn’t. She finally tossed a shell casing to the ground and turned to face them.

Quickly making sure the safety was on, she handed the pistol back to Hale. “I don’t believe I like your gun. I’m done shooting for the day.”

“What happened, baby girl? Are you okay?” Hale took the gun from her as he and Brody walked with her back to the four-wheelers. She grabbed a water bottle and held it against her chest.

“I’m fine. Just fine. Go shoot some more or something.” She fluttered her hand in the direction of the target.

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