“You get used to it. It’s part of being a celebrity.” He said the word as though making fun of himself.
“Did you always want to play professional ball? I mean, you must have. How else could you tolerate the attention?” She sat on a wooden bench and heard the orchestra of the falls blend with the cry of a nighthawk.
“My dreams were no different than any other boy out here. Horses and rodeo.” He hiked his foot to the bench and rested his forearm on his knee. “Never had any desire to play football until high school, and then only because of my friends.”
Mattie shook her head, unable to understand how a boy who cared so little about football had turned into a professional quarterback. “What changed?”
He ducked his chin into his coat collar. “Frank died.”
“I didn’t mean to pry.” She kicked at a broken limb, then stood to follow the dirt trail along the bank.
Gil offered his arm.
“Frank and I team roped together. He planned to go on the rodeo circuit after high school, which was fine with my dad — until he learned I intended to join him.” Gil shook his head, and as he talked, Mattie became more at ease. “You wouldn’t believe the arguments we had then.”
“Worse than those you have now?” She looked up, and Gil’s eyes flickered. Her toes freezing, she clung tighter to his arm for warmth. “I take it he didn’t approve of your idea.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever pleased the man. He wanted me to stay home and ranch with him. Can you imagine the two of us making business decisions together?” He laughed, but it couldn’t disguise the heaviness in his tone. “When Frank died, my fascination for rodeo died with him. That’s when football started making sense. As a defensive lineman, I could hit the guy in front of me as hard as I wanted and not get into trouble.”
Mattie ached for his teenage years. The heartache he endured losing his brother at such a tender age. Something niggled about his words though. “You didn’t start out as a quarterback?”
Gil didn’t answer for a moment. “Nope . . . it’s funny how things work out sometimes.”
ALL THIS TALK ABOUT FRANK AND HIGH SCHOOL MADE GIL’S STOMACH churn. Now that he’d retired, he wanted to move on with his life, not dwell on the bad times, the bittersweet moments. Nor did he care to reveal what talking about Frank did to him. How his betrayal haunted him.
He much preferred thinking about Mattie and repositioned his arm around her shoulders, glad for the opportunity to pull her close. Hovering over her, he caught a whiff of her hair, clean and sweet like roses. “What about you? Did you always want to be a veterinarian?”
“I got along well with animals, plus I excelled at science.”
“Don’t tell me — you were one of those girls who never studied and always got straight A’s.” She nudged him in the ribs, and he welcomed her tolerance for teasing. The little lady could take as much as she could give. He liked that about her.
“The summer I worked for Doc Bryant convinced me to become a vet,” she said. “After that, I knew I wanted to return to Charris County where I could help the ranchers.”
“A noble cause.” Most girls he’d known at that age were interested in makeup and going to the prom, not in serving others.
“Not entirely.” She stopped and grinned. “Doc promised to sell his business to me when he retired. I figured if I worked in Diamond Falls, I might eventually own some land, maybe even a ranch.”
“Or better yet, marry a rancher?” He couldn’t resist.
At that, she pulled away and went to stand by the wooden fence bordering the trail. “If the right man ever comes along . . . and I don’t mean your father.”
“What about now? Have you considered how long it’ll take to rebuild?”
Mattie shook her head. “I figure once my clinic’s set up, I’ll start visiting ranchers, let them know I’m back in business. From there, I guess we’ll see how long it takes.”
“You’re not worried?” Her practice had been unsteady before the fire. Considering her own father’s bankruptcy, it had to weigh heavy on her mind.
She shifted her feet and pulled her coat tighter around her neck. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. But the Lord tells us not to worry about tomorrow, so I’m going to take things one day at a time.”