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Chapter

Twenty-One

T he past week had been a blur for West. Fortunately, Coach Markham was going to make it.

When he had spoken to his mentor after he came out of bypass surgery, fear had filled him, seeing how suddenly helpless and weak the older man looked.

But Coach had a core of steel, and he told West that he would be sticking around to spend time with his beloved Georgia.

And no more football.

Coach had said he needed to quit for his health and Georgia’s peace of mind, and he would only do it if West promised to take over as the Hawks’ head coach.

Otherwise, he would continue coaching—and his death would be on West’s hands.

Even in the ICU, Coach was a jokester, and although West knew the older man teased him, he could sense the seriousness underlying the situation.

He readily agreed, saying that everything would have to go through the superintendent.

Being that it was his own father, plus the fact that Coach Markham was also the district’s athletic director and had final say on the candidate who would replace him, things had come together quickly.

West had reported for duty at Hawthorne High School on Monday morning after a brief visit with his dad at the administration building.

Officially, Coach Markham would retire at the end of the school year, about six weeks from now.

He had never taken a sick day in over forty years of service, so his accrued sick leave would be used now until the end of the year.

In effect, West was a long-term substitute teacher and would earn a slightly higher pay than a sub who came in for a day here or there.

Once the school year concluded at the end of May, his new contract as head football coach and athletic director of Hawthorne Independent School District would kick in.

He had asked his dad to have the contract worded so that he wouldn’t start his official duties until mid-June.

It was important to him to get to take Kelby on a honeymoon, which they would take once school was out.

For now, though, he reported daily to the high school.

He’d met at length with Blanche Biggerstaff, the principal, going over his duties as Hawthorne High School’s head coach.

They had discussed everything from budgets to the ordering of athletic uniforms and physicals.

Thankfully, Coach Markham had several notebooks in his office which detailed all his duties, including that of the athletic director.

That was a position West had been unsure whether he should assume or not.

He would be overseeing all athletic programs in the district, from other sports at the high school to those at the middle school level.

He would be the one parceling out money to everyone, and he had no experience in this kind of thing.

Again, thanks to Coach being so prepared, as West had gone through things in his mentor’s office, he had found notebooks and records of budgets from the past ten years.

He would use these to guide him through the process.

It made sense for him to hold the position.

Football in Texas was always the chief revenue sport, the one which funded other sports programs from volleyball to soccer to cross country.

He was actually beginning to look forward to being involved in other sports and working with those coaches.

He had met with his own football staff daily, both as a group and individually.

When a head coach was hired, he usually cleaned house, bringing in his own people and not renewing the contracts of the previous staff.

Since West had never coached, he was willing to go with Coach Markham’s present group of coaches if they were willing to continue in their current positions.

He would need to hire someone in place of Rand, whom West had been tagged to replace.

A couple of the coaches had suggested names to him, and he had set up interviews with three of them for early next week.

More meetings with the other head coaches of various sports would roll out over the next couple of weeks, and then he would meet with all coaches at the middle schools.

From everything he had done so far, he knew he was settling into his new role with ease.

He’d always been able to read others well, and the fact that he was an organized, detail-oriented person would be helpful in his dual roles.

Kelby had already put together some spreadsheets which would be very helpful to him in keeping track of things.

He had taken over conducting practice while still working with the position players.

Of course, Rand was still on staff and helping him in this area.

West had pulled files on every single player in his program and read them, taking notes, getting to know them on paper and then in person.

Currently, he was working his way through the team, meeting with a couple of players each day.

Though he asked about their previous football experience and any other sports they played, he asked them about a variety of topics, such as what their favorite class was and why or what plans they had beyond high school.

Discovering who his players were as people was just as important to him as learning about their skills on the gridiron.

In his dual role, he would teach no classes.

Though it disappointed him in a way, he realized that the AD part of his job would take countless hours.

Already, he was looking ahead, juggling budget items, because it looked as if the HHS baseball team might be headed to the playoffs this season.

Playoffs were held away from home, which involved planning transportation, meals, and hotels.

West was juggling a lot of balls, but he was having a good time doing so.

For this weekend, though, coaching and anything to do with being an AD would go on the back burner.

He had a rehearsal dinner to get to now and then tomorrow’s wedding.

The next few days needed to be devoted to Kelby.

She had been a rock, standing by him as he rode the emotional roller coaster of this past week.

They had talked for hours, sometimes long into the night.

She was the one he trusted most. The person he would brainstorm with and bounce ideas around.

After marriage, she would become a football widow, a term used once the season began and husbands were often absent from home long hours.

West vowed to strive for a balance between work and his personal life, but he knew he would be putting in grueling hours come the beginning of the next school year.

At least having cheered, especially on the collegiate level, Kelby was well aware of the time invested in preparing and attending games.

He blew his whistle, signaling an end to practice, saying goodbye to his players and fellow coaches. No one knew he was getting married tomorrow. It was something they had wanted to keep private. An occasion just for them and those closest to them.

West hurried home, showering there and dressing in jeans and a golf shirt.

Tonight’s rehearsal dinner was extremely casual.

Though his mom had offered to hold the rehearsal dinner, he knew she had already put in a lot of effort for tomorrow’s wedding.

He wanted her to be able to take the night off and not have to be cooking and cleaning.

Instead, he had asked the chef from Bistro Beauvais to cater tonight’s affair.

It would take place at his parents’ house, and Chef Marceau was bringing a couple of his sous chefs with him to help prepare and serve.

He’d left the menu up to the talented chef, saying he wanted typical bistro fare—rustic, hearty, and unpretentious.

Kelby had already moved most of her clothes and personal items into his rental.

They were still looking for a plot of land to build on, but they had finalized the plans with an architect for the house they would build.

Sawyer had said that three was a crowd and offered to move out of their shared rental, wanting to give them more privacy than if they moved to the ranch.

Surprisingly, it would be Sawyer who would now live at the ranch.

Chance had made the offer, and Sawyer had taken him up on it, saying he wouldn’t be there beyond a year because he also wanted to find a place of his own.

He drove to his parents’ house now, trying to let go of all the many things still left on his to-do list. All that could wait. This would be the only time he got married, and he wanted to enjoy every minute of this weekend.

Several cars were parked on both sides of the street as he pulled up, along with a catering van.

Both the twins and Darby had flown in, and he saw Chance’s truck and Sawyer and Kelby’s cars, along with a few others.

He went inside without knocking, hearing voices coming from the den.

Entering, he saw everyone invited had already arrived ahead of him.

“West!” Summer ran to him, throwing her arms around him. “I’m so happy for you and Kelby. And I’m not kidding. I may write a romance novel using your love story as inspiration.”

Autumn nudged her sister aside, and he wrapped his arms around her. “Hey, Autumn. Where’s Dr. Flint?”

She pulled away. “I’ve already shared with everyone else. You’ll be happy to learn that Flint and I are done.”

His heart skipped a beat. “Done as in completely over?”

“Yes. I’m not ready to talk about it yet. Just know you won’t ever have to put up with him again.”

He framed her face with his hands and kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

“No, you’re not,” she fired back. “I knew you never liked him. I finally saw what everyone else did. He’s history.”

“Will you stay in Houston?”