Waiting On You (Blue Heron #3)(74)

Savannah’s sweet face shone as the entire O’Rourke’s team swarmed her. Con hoisted her up on his shoulders, and the rest of the team—the fabulous Murphy girls, Bryce and Paulie, Ned Vanderbeek, everyone, all high-fived her, cheering and hooting. Con said something, and Savannah turned and tipped her hat to the crowd, getting another roar, and Colleen guessed this was pretty much the best day of her little sister’s life.

“So close, Colleen,” said Emmaline Neal, the third baseman, with a knowing smile.

“Quite a dive,” Robbie Mack added, slapping her on the butt. From the stands, Faith pointed at her and smiled, then continued clapping.

“Nice try, Colleen,” Jeremy called from first. She held out her hands in the “whatcha gonna do” gesture and grinned.

So, sure. She’d thrown the play. She was a good player, and Savannah’s hit had been catchable, especially by the town’s best shortstop. But it was worth it, and her teammates knew it. Just about everyone knew it except Savannah, and Colleen felt a rush of love for her town. No one would ever tell Savannah that she’d been handed that hit.

Then Dad ran over to home plate, and Savannah wriggled down from Connor and jumped into her father’s arms. “Daddy, Daddy, did you see that?”

“Are you kidding? It was amazing!” he said. “My little girl hit a homer! I’m so proud of you, baby!”

Colleen waited for him to glance over at her with that same fond smile she was getting from people on both teams.

It didn’t come. He only had eyes for Savannah.

Colleen’s happy bubble deflated a little. She looked away.

“Okay, okay, batter up,” Mr. Holland said, and Paulie picked up the bat and came to the plate.

Colleen assumed the position, bending her knees. But she kept looking over at Dad. Savannah was in the dugout, still accepting congratulations from the team, chattering in amazement, her eyes bright, gesturing wildly, completely at home with her peeps. Dad kept looking over at her, beaming and pointing—Who’s my girl?—and accepting some backslaps of his own for having raised such a little prodigy.

He still didn’t look at her.

Did he not know? She could’ve had Savannah out easily. Did he not know that she’d deliberately given the little girl a great moment to cherish, especially because his shallow trophy wife was fixated on some stupid idea of what a little girl should be like? Did Dad truly not get it? Did he—

And then there was a crack, and a thunk, and Colleen was suddenly down on her knees, and holy sphincter, her head! She clapped a hand to the spot that was just yelping in pain and saw the baseball at her feet.

She’d been hit in the head with a frickin’ ball.

“Ouch,” she said faintly.

What would Jeter do? Colleen picked up the ball and tossed it to Robbie, who fired to first. Runner was out.

And so was she. The dirt rushed up to greet her, and all was quiet.

* * *

BEING CARRIED OFF the field had a certain élan to it. A certain horrifying, embarrassing, completely unsexy élan.

Marian Field, the mayor of Manningsport, insisted that she go to the hospital, Jeremy concurred, and the volunteer EMTs, half of whom were at the game, couldn’t have been happier, as they loved pain and misery, especially the accidental kind, since it would give them something to brag about at O’Rourke’s.

So she was put in a neck brace and on a backboard, which was ridiculous and more uncomfortable than a baseball to the head. And now she was just lying here like that dead porcupine, Ned Vanderbeek holding an ice pack on her head and trying not to laugh.

Lucas was holding her hand.

It was a disturbingly wonderful feeling.

She kept jerking it away. He kept scowling and taking it back.

“Can we please get this show on the road?” she asked, pulling her hand free for the eighth time. Gurneys. So not her. She tried to get up, and Lucas gently pushed her back down.

“The patient is combative,” Ned Vanderbeek said, grinning.

“I’ll give you combative, little boy. Lean in closer.”

“Stop whining,” Lucas said, taking her hand again.

“I’m not whining. I’m demanding. And why are you acting all possessive and concerned? I got bumped in the head. Big deal.”

“You got knocked out cold. Second time this week.”

“Yeah, well, I also made the play, didn’t I?”

“Fine, you’re Derek Jeter,” Lucas snapped. “And you’re going to the hospital. The end.”

“Oh, so bossy and alpha male. I think I’m having an orgasm.”

Ned choked.

“You’re the one who’s always collapsing around me,” Lucas said. “Just come out with it. You want me to take care of you.”

“Jeez! The ego! How do you both fit in the same car?”

He grinned, and the orgasm became a possibility. She scowled, then looked around for help. “Jeremy! Please let me go home! I need a drink and my dog. Where is he, by the way?”

Connor appeared in her line of vision. He scowled at Lucas but didn’t punch him and looked down at her. “Nice play, Collie Dog Face.”

“Finally, someone appreciates me. Do you know where Rufus is?”

“Here.”

Her dog’s shaggy head appeared, and he began licking her maniacally. She scratched his ears with her free hand. “Who’s a good boy? It’s you, Rufus-Doofus! You’re the good boy! Yes, you are!”