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  "The Fall Jubilee Dance. We hold it at the fire hall. Coach is the advisor for the sophomore class, so we have to run everything by him before we can do it," Jenny explained. "And e-mails just don't cut it sometimes."

  Max went to the counter and dished spaghetti onto plates. "The committee is late getting organized this year. Very late," he added with a stern look at the two teenagers.

  Ryan came running into the kitchen. Seeing Kevin and Jenny he slowed down and slipped onto a chair at the table.

  "Washed up?" Tessa asked.

  He nodded.

  She introduced him to Kevin and Jenny, and Max explained he taught them in school. Tessa sliced the garlic bread and gave Ryan a piece. He grinned and bit off a bite of the crust.

  After Max placed the dishes on the table, he addressed Kevin. "So, what's up?"

  Kevin pulled out a chair next to Ryan. "We can't seem to get good ideas going that everyone agrees on. It's all been done before. We want something different this year."

  "If you don't do something soon, you won't have time to do anything at all," Max warned. "The dance is only two weeks away."

  "What were your past themes?" Tessa asked as she brought glasses of milk to the table.

  Jenny sat next to Kevin. "We usually do an 'autumn in' theme. Like 'autumn in New York,' 'autumn in San Francisco.' Last year we did 'autumn in Paris.' But this year we're stumped. Do you have any ideas? We just need to come up with a few to take back to the committee. We're going to settle this tonight one way or the other so we can start on decorations. Coach, just like we e-mailed you, everything else is done. Honest. Refreshments, people to set-up and take down, even table cloths."

  "The ideas should come from you." Max sat beside Jenny.

  As Kevin took a piece of garlic bread from the basket, he asked, "You know what we've been getting? 'Autumn in Iowa.' 'Autumn in Canada.' 'Autumn in Kansas.' Not very inspired."

  Max chuckled. "You can't say they aren’t trying."

  Kevin scrunched up his face and chewed at the same time. "If that's trying, I should get an A in geometry."

  Max knew Kevin did his best, but so far had only managed a C in geometry.

  Tessa ruffled Ryan's hair before she sat, and he ducked but grinned at her.

  "What if you stretched your theme a little so it's not quite as realistic?" she suggested.

  "I don't understand," Jenny said.

  Tessa used her fork to cut up Ryan's spaghetti so it would be easier for him to handle. "You could use a place that’s well-known, but not real. For example...what about 'autumn in Camelot?'"

  Jenny smiled. "That's great. Can you imagine the decorations?"

  "What's Camelot?" Kevin looked confused.

  "Didn't you ever see the movie or the play?" Jenny asked.

  "Or read the legend of King Arthur?" Max offered.

  "Must have missed 'em." Kevin started twirling his spaghetti. "But I get what you mean. Like 'autumn in Oz' or 'autumn in Metropolis.'"

  "Metropolis?" Jenny repeated.

  Max picked up his fork, watching Tessa take a bite of spaghetti. When it slipped down her lip, her tongue came out and swirled it in. He shifted in his chair. "Where Superman became famous."

  Jenny rolled her eyes. "I like Oz or Camelot. What do you think, Coach?"

  "Either one will work. And if you offer those to the committee, they might come up with others."

  As Max reached for a piece of bread, so did Tessa. Their fingers brushed. The electricity he felt sparked in her eyes, too. But she quickly turned to Ryan and handed him a napkin so he could wipe sauce from his mouth.

  "Coach?"

  Apparently, he'd missed Kevin's question. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

  Kevin looked at Tessa then back at Max. "I said we're having problems getting chaperones. Do you have any suggestions?"

  "Don't the kids' parents want to be involved?" Tessa asked.

  Kevin and Jenny exchanged a knowing look. "Teenagers don't want their parents around, Ms. Kahill. Don't you remember how you felt in high school?"

  Max saw the shadow pass across Tessa's face and imagined how difficult it had been for her not to have a parent to turn to or rebel against. "Ms. Kahill's a correspondent and journalist. She travels constantly. She's not so familiar with teenage dances."

  Tessa gave him a thank-you, but-I-can-speak-for-myself look. "I didn't go to many dances, Kevin."

  "Why not? I'd think any guy would jump at the chance to take you!" As soon as the words were out of the teenager's mouth, he blushed beet red.

  Max thought about smoothing the waters, but he wanted to see how Tessa would handle Kevin.

  She simply smiled. "Thank you. I think that's the nicest compliment I've ever received. The truth is when I was a teenager, I worked every minute I could to save money for college. That didn't leave much time for dances."

  "A lot of kids are in that boat," Jenny commented. "We decided to keep the dance casual this year to cut expenses. That way we'll have better attendance."

  "Can only parents chaperone?" Tessa asked.

  "No," Kevin answered quickly. "You want to come with Coach?"

  She hazarded a quick look at Max. "If you need another chaperone, I'll be glad to come. When did you say it is?"

  "Two Saturdays from tomorrow."

  "If you didn't have a theme, how did you advertise it?"

  Jenny looked sheepish. "Just as the Fall Jubilee with a secret theme. We told everyone to come and be surprised."

  Tessa laughed out loud and the sound of it made Max feel good.

  As they ate, he watched Tessa interact with the teenagers. She seemed to relate to them easily. Leslie had always backed away from the students he taught and coached. She didn't understand their rowdiness or rebelliousness. Tessa did. And she didn't forget about Ryan sitting next to her, either. She talked to him and joked with him so he wouldn't feel left out.

  After Kevin and Jenny left, Ryan went to the living room to watch a DVD. Max’s gaze followed him as he settled on the sofa. "Do you think he'll be like Kevin some day? Interested in girls, involved in school activities, having trouble with math?"

  "I'm sure he'll be interested in girls. Now the math..."

  Max could hear the smile in her voice and turned toward it. "I know. I should stop worrying so much."

  "Why did you let the dance committee wait until now to come up with a theme?"

  "This is their dance. Their responsibility. Its success depends on them. I was getting worried, but it looks as if they'll come through."

  "Are Kevin and Jenny dating?" Tessa collected the dishes from the table and brought them to the sink.

  "Now and then. They're as different as night and day. One minute they're arguing, the next they're talking like best friends." He shook his head. "Teenagers."

  Tessa put the dishes on the counter. "I'm not so sure they're any different than adults." Without saying more, she turned on the spigot and went about cleaning up supper.

  ***

  On Sunday the autumn sun sent streaking yellow rays across the field during the Oktoberfest softball game. Tessa dashed her hand across her forehead to swipe away a few drops of perspiration. Her skin crawled as Max stared her down, trying to intimidate her, hoping she'd lose focus on the ball and strike out. She never lost focus, not for a second. But Max's piercing brown gaze almost made her forget where she was.

  Just as it had all week whenever their eyes met. That hadn't been often, in spite of being in the same house. Since that moment at the campsite when he'd kissed her, they'd avoided contact. When Ryan wasn't around, Tessa worked in her room. This weekend had been a relief--strolling through the park with Max and Ryan yesterday, watching the children's softball games today. She thought about chaperoning the high-school dance with him. Would he ask her to dance? How would it feel to be held in his arms again?

  Concentrate, Kahill. Right now, he's your opponent. You have to help win this game! She dug in her heels and prepared to swing as hard as she
could when he pitched.

  Never swing at the first pitch, she told herself. Wait for the right one.

  The first ball sailed by.

  "Strike one!" the umpire called.

  "Come on, Tessa, you can do it," Ryan yelled from the bleachers.

  She was glad Ryan was rooting for her. But then she heard him call to Max, "You can do it, Dad. Strike her out!"

  She smiled. Ryan was playing both sides of the fence.

  The second ball was outside. She called to Max, "You have to do better than that."

  His grin grew threatening and smug. "Watch me."

  He had a real competitive streak, but so did she.

  Max wound up. Even from this distance Tessa was aware of the muscles under his T-shirt, the rakish tilt of his cap over his eyes, his masculine stance, supremely evident as he pitched. Max was coiled strength. She pictured him, upper torso naked as he'd stood on the roof.

  The ball sailed by her again and she knew it had been a good one.

  "What's the matter, Kahill. Lost your touch?"

  Max's deep baritone teased every one of her nerves into tingling awareness. "You just pitch 'em and cut the editorial comment."

  This time she was ready.

  It was almost like slow motion. Max took a step forward. His hand went back to start the delivery. Tessa was on top of it, her legs balancing her properly, her gaze on the ball, her position perfect for a hard hit.

  The ball met her bat with a loud thwat. She thought she heard Max swear and Ryan cheer, but she was too busy running the bases to really pay attention. She made it to third, looked up and saw the third baseman waiting to tag her if she moved on. She bent over, her hands on her knees as she caught her breath.

  When she straightened, she was staring straight into Max's brown eyes. Instead of the annoyance she thought she'd see, he tipped his cap to her. Then he turned to home plate ready to take on the next batter.

  After the inning, Max sat on the bench observing Tessa as she played centerfield. She was perfectly comfortable with her jeans dirty from sliding into home plate later in the inning, her curls disarrayed in the breeze, the sun bright on her hair. Leslie had been more of an "inside" person. She liked her wardrobe in style, every hair on her head in place. Not Tessa.

  She'd gotten to him on the camping trip. Her tenderness with Ryan, her sense of adventure. That kiss. It haunted his nights. Maybe he should start dating again—at least go through the motions. Tessa had been right in a way when she'd said he didn't know her. Maybe he didn't. But he did know he and Tessa were incompatible. She was willful and stubborn, and she lived a life foreign to him.

  Tessa was here for Ryan's sake, nothing more. Just as she had been on every other one of her visits. The only difference was that this time she was staying with him instead of with Leslie's parents.

  Max tore his gaze away from her to concentrate on the game. A batter stepped up to the plate. He smashed the first pitch, and it soared over the field. Into Tessa's territory. But there was another player coming toward it at the same time, and Tessa didn't see him.

  Max felt his throat burn as he yelled. He was on his feet and running before she collided with the other outfielder and hit the ground. Max skidded to a stop as the outfielder, a big burly man, much taller and practically twice Tessa's weight, rolled away from her and sat up.

  Max crouched on the grass beside her. Her eyes were closed and her skin was as pale as the ball she held clutched in her glove. "Tessa! Tessa, are you okay?"

  She didn't open her eyes, and he could have sworn she wasn't breathing!

  Chapter Six

  Tessa gasped and coughed, dragging air into her lungs. It seemed easier when she tried it a second time.

  "Tessa, look at me."

  The familiarity of Max's voice forced Tessa to open her eyes.

  He looked grim and a little...scared? When she tried to sit up, his arm came around her shoulders. "Nice, slow breaths. Easy."

  Following his directions, she thought about how strong and comforting he felt against her. She could smell sun, grass, Max. Forgetting she had a lead weight on her chest, she basked in the protective feel of him...the male power of him. She closed her eyes to savor the sensations.

  "Tessa, are you dizzy? Does anything hurt?"

  Opening her eyes again, she could have melted under Max's concerned look. Trying her voice, it came out scratchy but audible. "I'm fine. I just had the wind knocked out of me. I couldn't get my breath for a minute. But I'm okay now."

  "Ms. Kahill, I'm terribly sorry," someone on the edge of the players around them said.

  Max ignored the apology and didn't release her. "Do you think you can stand?"

  "Sure. No problem." But as Max helped her up and let her try to stand on her own, her knees wobbled.

  "That's it." He swept her up into his arms.

  "Max! Put me down."

  He strode toward the picnic area. "Not on your life. Not until I make sure you're in one piece."

  "Max, I'm fine. Just a little shaky."

  "You just ran into a semi and you're too pale. Now why don't you be quiet and breathe easy till we get where we're going."

  She wondered if his brusqueness stemmed from the fear she'd been hurt. All she knew was that she couldn't breathe easy with his arms wrapped around her. His hand almost covered her breast, and she was aware of his other arm under her thighs. As he walked, her head bobbed and her cheek brushed his shirt. She'd like nothing better than to lay her head there and listen to the beat of his heart.

  What was she thinking? Those thoughts were the kind she'd been trying to avoid! She squirmed in his arms.

  "Stay still." His breath stirred the curls on her forehead.

  "Where's Ryan? If he sees you carrying me..."

  "He's at the playground. He got bored around the third inning."

  "He's with other kids?" Tessa asked hopefully.

  "No, Flo and Scruffy. Flo said she wanted to swing and needed Ryan to hold onto Scruffy for her. Sometimes I wonder if I should get Ryan a dog."

  "But?" Tessa prompted, hearing the doubt in his voice.

  "But I don't know if he's ready for the responsibility."

  Max shifted Tessa in his arms, and her nose grazed his neck. She hadn't felt dizzy before, but she did now, and she was incapable of carrying on a coherent conversation. Max didn't try, either.

  A few minutes later, he gently deposited her on a picnic bench. Tessa hadn't been aware she'd caused a commotion, but in no time at all she was surrounded by the man who'd run into her, other players and a group of Max's neighbors who wanted to help. She sent Max an annoyed look. If he'd let her walk off the field, this wouldn't have happened. She didn't like being the center of attention. She got her best stories by being inconspicuous and blending in.

  Tessa tried to reassure everyone she was fine and was suddenly overwhelmed by the sense of community spirit that made them all care. Her throat tightened.

  As they accepted her reassurance and scattered, the player who'd collided with her turned his cap around and around in his hands. "I'm truly sorry, Ms. Kahill. I guess the sun got in my eyes."

  She smiled at him. "I still want you on my team the next time I play. You know how to go after a ball."

  His cheeks flushed. "If I hurt you in any way—"

  "No. I'm fine. Really. I'm not going to let a softball game do me in."

  The burly ball player clasped her shoulder. "You're a good sport."

  "You go back to the game and win. In fact, in a few minutes, I'll join you."

  "You're not going anywhere," Max said in a low, even voice.

  She stood. "If I want to play ball—"

  He pointed to the bench. "Sit down. I'll get you something to drink. Then we'll check for scrapes and bruises."

  She didn't sit. "Don't order me around, Max."

  He looked as angry as she was determined. He clapped the ball player on the back. "You go win the game for her."

  The bigger man looked
from one tense face to the other, put his cap on his head and headed for the field.

  Max faced her. "I'm not ordering you around."

  "It didn't sound like a request to me."

  He rolled his eyes. "Tessa Kahill, will you have a ginger ale with me?"

  "You don't even like ginger ale."

  He shook his head with apparent exasperation. "How could I forget you journalists are so observant? I'll find something I like and bring you a ginger ale. Deal?"

  She reluctantly sat on the bench and mumbled, "Deal."

  Max couldn't understand the tension still dancing in the pit of his stomach as he headed for the sodas. From the moment he'd known Tessa was in danger, he'd realized he was starting to care all over again!

  He bent over and plucked a can of ginger ale and a can of root beer from the cooler. He flipped a paper cup from a stack in a basket by the cooler, opened the ginger ale and poured Tessa a glass. Then he went back to the table, more concerned about her than he wanted to be. All right, so she'd been in Iraq and Afghanistan and goodness knew where else in the middle of wars. She'd still just had a hard collision and a thudding fall. She might be tough, but she also might be hurting.

  When Max returned to the table, he handed her the ginger ale. "Do you want to go home?" Max knew that word conjured up a different meaning for him than it did for Tessa.

  She threw him a sideways glance. "We didn't eat yet."

  He smiled. She could always make him smile, though more often than not, he wanted to shake her at the same time. "You're hungry?"

  "Sure am." When she grasped her cup to take another sip of soda, her arm rubbed the edge of the table and she winced.

  Max set down his can. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing's wrong."

  He picked up her arm and was about to pull up her sleeve when she jerked away from him. "Tessa, if you scraped something, it should be tended to."

  "For thirty years I've taken care of myself just fine."

  He gentled his voice. "Let's look at your arm."

  She expelled a breath and pulled up her sleeve. A scrape ran from mid forearm to her elbow.

  Max frowned. "That could get nasty. I have a first-aid kit in the car."