The next time he picked up the phone, he actually got to the sixth number before chickening out.

That night, lying in bed, he wondered what the hell was wrong with him.

On an early Saturday morning in late September, about a month after he’d first met Sarah Andrews, Miles stood in the fields of H. J. Macdonald Junior High School, watching Jonah play soccer. With the possible exception of fishing, Jonah loved to play soccer more than anything, and he was good at it. Missy had always been athletic, even more so than Miles, and from her Jonah had inherited both agility and coordination. From Miles, as Miles would mention casually to anyone who asked, he’d inherited speed. As a result, Jonah was a terror on the field. At that age, Jonah played no more than half a game, since everyone on the team was required to play the same amount of time. Yet Jonah usually scored most, if not all, of the team’s goals. In the first four games, he’d scored twenty-seven times. Granted, there were only three people to a team, goalkeepers weren’t allowed, and half the kids didn’t know in which direction they were supposed to kick the ball, but twenty-seven goals was exceptional. Almost every time Jonah touched the ball, he took it the length of the field and kicked it in the net.

Truly ridiculous, however, was the burst of pride Miles experienced when watching Jonah perform. Heloved it, secretly jumped for joy when Jonah scored, even though he knew it was nothing but a temporary phenomenon and didn’t mean diddly squat. Kids matured at different rates, and some kids practiced with more diligence. Jonah was physically mature and didn’t like to practice; it was only a matter of time before the others caught up with him.

But in this game, by the end of the first quarter, Jonah had already scored four goals. In the second quarter, with Jonah on the sidelines, the opposing team kicked four goals to take the lead. In the third quarter, Jonah kicked two more, giving him thirty-three for the year, not that anyone was counting, and a teammate added one. By the beginning of the fourth quarter, Jonah’s team was behind 8-7, and Miles crossed his arms and scanned the crowd, doing his best to appear as if he didn’t even realize that without Jonah his team would be getting destroyed.

Damn, this was fun.

Miles was so lost in his reverie, it took a moment for the voice coming from off to the side to register.

“You got a bet riding on this game, Deputy Ryan?” Sarah asked as she walked up to him, grinning broadly. “You look a little nervous.”

“No-no bet. Just enjoying the game,” he answered.

“Well, be careful. Your fingernails are almost gone. I’d hate to see you accidentally nip yourself.”

“I wasn’t biting my nails.”

“Not now,” she said. “But you were.”

“I think you were imagining things,” he countered, wondering if she was flirting with him again. “So…” He pushed up the brim of his baseball hat. “I didn’t expect to see you out here.”

Wearing shorts and sunglasses, she looked younger than usual.

“Jonah told me he had a game this weekend and asked if I’d come.”

“He did?” Miles asked curiously.

“On Thursday. He said that I would enjoy it, but I kind of got the impression he wanted me to see him doing something he was good at.” Bless you, Jonah.

“It’s almost over now. You’ve missed most of it.”

“I couldn’t find the right field. I didn’t realize there would be so many games out here. From a distance, all these kids look the same.” “I know. Sometimes even we have trouble finding what field we’re playing on.” The whistle sounded and Jonah kicked the ball to a teammate. The ball shot past him, though, and promptly rolled out of bounds. Someone on the other team chased after it, and Jonah glanced toward his father. When he saw Sarah, he waved and she returned the wave enthusiastically. Then, settling into position with a determined look on his face, Jonah waited for the throw to put the ball back in play. A moment later, he and everyone else on the field were chasing after the ball.

“So how’s he doing?” Sarah asked.

“He’s having a good game.”

“Mark says he’s the best player out here.”

“Well…,” Miles demurred, doing his best to look modest. Sarah laughed. “Mark wasn’t talking about you. Jonah’s the one out there playing.”

“I know that,” Miles said.

“But you think he’s a chip off the old block, huh?”

“Well…,” Miles repeated, for lack of a clever response. Sarah lifted an eyebrow, clearly amused.Where was that wit and charisma he was counting on? “Tell me-did you play soccer as a kid?” she asked.

“They didn’t evenhave soccer when I was a kid. I played the traditional sports-football, basketball, baseball. But even if they’d offered soccer, I don’t think I would have played it. I’ve got a bias against sports that require me to bounce a ball off my head.”

“But it’s fine for Jonah, right?”

“Sure, as long as he likes it. Did you ever play?”

“No. I wasn’t much of an athlete, but once I was in college, I took up walking.

My roommate got me into it.”

He squinted at her. “Walking?”

“It’s harder than it looks if you keep a fast pace.”

“Do you still do it?”

“Every day. I have a three-mile loop that I follow. It’s a good workout and it gives me a chance to unwind. You should try it.”

“With all that spare time I have?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“If I went three miles, I’d probably be so sore I couldn’t get out of bed the next day. That’s if I could even make it.”

She ran her gaze over him appraisingly. “You could make it,” she said. “You might have to give up smoking, but you could make it.” “I don’t smoke,” he protested.

“I know. Brenda told me.” She grinned, and after a moment, Miles couldn’t help but smile as well. Before he could say anything else, however, a loud roar went up and both of them turned to see Jonah break away from the pack, charge down the field, and kick yet another goal, this one to tie the score. As Jonah’s teammates surged around him, Miles and Sarah stood together on the sidelines, both of them clapping and cheering for the same young boy.

“Did you enjoy it?” Miles asked. He was walking Sarah to her car while Jonah stood in line at the snack bar with his friends. The game had been won by Jonah’s team, and after the game, Jonah had run up to Sarah to ask her if she’d seen his goal. When she’d answered that she had, Jonah had beamed and given her a hug before scrambling off to join his friends. Miles, surprisingly, had been all but ignored, though the fact that Jonah was fond of Sarah-and vice versa-left him feeling strangely satisfied.

“It was fun,” she admitted. “I wish I could have been here for the whole thing, though.”

In the early afternoon sunlight, her skin glowed beneath the tan she still carried from the summer.

“It’s fine. Jonah was simply glad you showed up.” He glanced at her sideways.

“So what’s on your agenda the rest of the day?”

“I’m meeting my mom for lunch downtown.”

“Where?”

“Fred amp; Clara’s? It’s a little place just around the corner from where I live.”

“I know the place. It’s great.”

They reached her car, a red Nissan Sentra, and Sarah started rummaging through her handbag for her keys. As she searched for them, Miles found himself staring at her. With the sunglasses perched neatly on her nose, she looked more like the city girl she was than someone from the country. Add to that the faded jeans shorts and long legs, and she sure didn’t look like any teacher Miles had ever had growing up.

Behind them, a white pickup truck began backing out. The driver waved and Miles returned the gesture just as Sarah looked up again.