The Newcomer (Thunder Point #2)(71)

“I’ll do what I can,” he said, but he was shaking his head. “My best just isn’t so great these days. I thought you could bring this up with Sarah. Of course, she and Landon should call me if they want to talk, but there’s plenty of time before practice starts at the end of summer for them to look around. There are other schools and even private schools in the general area and if—”

“Like you said, Coach—Landon had a hard time settling in here, but now he’s established. He has good grades, the boy’s got serious game and there’s the girlfriend, not to mention other friends.” He shook his head. “I don’t see him volunteering to change schools for his senior year. Matter of fact, I had to do that because of my dad’s job and I still remember how tough it was.” He drank some of his beer. “We’ll just have to hope for the best. You probably know every coach and teacher in the county and beyond. You have any ideas?”

“There’s some talent out there, but even though we’re a good school and a tough team, we’re small. Starting pay isn’t impressive. I’ll start doing some serious asking around, but we’re probably going to draw attention from young men without a great deal of experience or an exciting track record. Those folks tend to head for the colleges, then the bigger universities.”

“And why didn’t you leave, Coach?” Cooper asked.

“I like it here,” he said with a shrug. “I like the high school kids—I like taking the raw talent with minimal funding and working it hard, molding it into something bigger than this little seaside town. I like watching those kids come off the field like rockets, all lit up after they’ve taken down one of the big schools—big schools from districts with money to spend. When we do it, it’s harder. But it means more.”

Cooper leaned toward him. “You shouldn’t quit until you find the right person to take over.”

“I won’t let the town or the school down, but I hope it doesn’t come to that. I’m discouraged. I don’t mind telling you—I’m tired. It takes a lot of positive energy to crank up those boys. I’m better off assisting, not trying to lead. Not right now. Now you just talk to Landon and his sister. Tell ’em to call me if they need to, but fill ’em in. Landon—he’s a leader. If he chooses to stay at this school, on this team, he could make a difference. If he chose another team, I’d understand. Anyone would understand.”

“Let me just ask you something,” Cooper said. “Why do you want me to talk to him? Why don’t you just talk to him?”

“Because he’d see in one second that I’m giving up. That isn’t the best message for a kid who’s gonna have a lot on his shoulders if he picks this town. But you can do it, Cooper. Mac says the boy relies on you. And I know he’s got the heart if he has the backing.”

* * *

Cooper finished his beer. He regretted that he’d given Landon the job—he’d be at the bar, washing dishes, sweeping up, running food to tables, serving up sodas or bottled drinks, smiling like a kid who’d won the lotto. And after the heavy lifting was done for the day, Cooper was going to tell him his coach was quitting and break his heart.

When he got back to his place, Landon was sitting at one of the tables in the bar, apron on, books open. There were a couple of people out on the deck and they’d been served. It had been Cooper who suggested that if things were quiet and Rawley was caught up, he use the time to get some of his homework done. Soon enough they’d hit their busy time when the sun started down over the Pacific and Landon would be on his feet.

Wouldn’t it be nice if he could put off this news about the coach until school was out for the summer. But, if Coach Rayborough was giving a letter to the school board so they could post the job and get busy looking at possible candidates, word would get out. Mac was going to tell Eve that night; Cooper should tell Landon so he’d have time to think.

And then as if the universe conspired, Sarah showed up at about eight o’clock, just as the last of the customers was leaving.

“Maybe we could heat up a couple of pizza slices or something?” she said. And then she immediately said, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, but I have to talk to you and Landon. Is everyone gone from the deck?”

“There were a couple of people leaning on the deck rail, looking at the bay, but I think they’re about to go. Landon picked up their glasses and dishes. What’s up?”

He was behind the bar; she was sitting up on a stool facing him. He poured her a glass of wine while Landon bustled his dishes back to the kitchen.

“I had a beer with Mac and Coach Rayborough this afternoon. The coach—he’s worn down by all the trouble last year, by the fact that he had a player in trouble and missed all the signals. I think he’s just worn out, to tell you the truth. He’s getting on in years and the kids kind of—”

“Cooper!”

He leaned on the bar. “He’s going to retire, Sarah,” he said. “It’s not public yet, but he hopes there will be a new coach in place by the end of summer and he was real honest—he’s too tired for this. A new coach could be inexperienced and young. Rayborough could assist, but he’d rather just move on. He suggested that you and Landon might consider other schools, even private schools, where Landon could get the most and the best—”