Read Love Inspired August 2014 – Bundle 1 of 2 for Free Online

couldn’t finish. Not as if he was even considering starting something with a woman
     on the rebound, because that rarely boded well. “It’s fine.”
    “And can I look at what you’ve got lined up for the game so far?”
    Sheepish, he handed over the half-filled single sheet of paper. She stared at the
     single sheet as if appalled, then made a show of unfolding it—
    Examining the empty back side while a mix of dismay and bemusement darkened her features—
    Refolding it and looking at him, expectant. “That’s it? To field two teams? The Bombers
     and the Bobcats?”
    “Well, the new pastor’s going to play shortstop for us, and he’s good, so we’ve got
     one more player. And a few I haven’t heard back from. So we’ve almost got one team
     manned.”
    “Did you give them a follow-up call?”
    He hadn’t, no. He swallowed hard and admitted, “I texted them.”
    The look on her face said he was clueless, and he couldn’t argue the fact. He hated
     phones, barely liked people and only took this on because guilt over Wes’s condition
     pushed him to say yes.
    “First, this game is a big deal for the town, right?”
    “Yes.”
    “Second, not everyone is comfortable texting, and some of these guys are in their
     sixties and seventies, Jack. They might not even have texting capabilities in their
     phones.”
    She was right, of course.
    “And third, for something special like this, do you think the New York Yankees send
     out a text to their former players about their annual Old-timers’ Day? No, they call
     and invite them to play. It’s an honor to be asked and an honor to be called.”
    A hint of light began shining at the end of his self-imposed tunnel vision. “So, would
     you��”
    “I would not.” She didn’t even let him get the words out of his mouth before refusing,
     and that said the woman before him was tougher than the girl she’d been a decade before.
     “But I will help organize the concessions, the flyers and the contact lists for endorsements
     and sponsors to raise money for the new museum. This way we’re both benefiting from
     our combined efforts.”
    “You’re benefiting because it’s raising money for something you love,” Jack objected.
     He clapped a hand to the base of his neck and scowled. “I fail to see the benefit
     to me in all this.”
    “It gets you out of the saddle, off the ranch and into the mainstream of life again,
     which is where we all should be. You can thank me later.” She went inside and came
     back with a landline phone and a small laptop computer. She handed the phone to him
     and he had no option but to take it. “Use this. The cell coverage is spotty out here,
     but you can get hold of most of the guys while I’m working on a sketch and a list
     for concessions.”
    He had no choice.
    She knew it, he could tell from the way she tipped her chin and offered the phone
     as if passing a baseball to a new pitcher on the mound.
    He hated making phone calls and didn’t like seeking favors, but the way Liv phrased
     it, as if asking folks to take part in the centennial was a privilege, made it easier
     to dial that first number. And when the old right fielder who now lived in northern
     Idaho gave him an enthusiastic yes and thanked him for the invite, Jack sat back.
     “He’s coming. Excited, even. And he thanked me for calling.”
    She glanced up from her note-making and her gaze didn’t say “I told you so.” It said
     his words made her happy, that taking charge and doing what he needed to do made her
     proud.
    A little thing, making a few phone calls. By the time he was done, he had eight more
     firm yesses, two I’m-sorry-can’t-make-its and had left three messages to voice mail.
     So far so good. And it felt good, too, which made his dread of doing it fairly ridiculous.
    “Did you call Pete Daniels?” Liv looked up from her email account as she invited area
     nonprofits and business owners to take part in the game-day