Truth or Dare by Janis Reams Hudson Page A

season opener for the girls' slow – pitch inner – city league, and Rachel had promised her daughter she'd be there.
    Mike was waiting at the curb when she walked outside.  He took her home, where she ditched her wig and put on a bra that fit rather than constricted her lungs .  She climbed into jeans and a sweatshirt, then she and Mike headed for the game.
    Wheeler Park was located in a not – too – wonderful part of town, on Western, just south of Interstate 40.
    "How will we ever find her?" Rachel asked, looking out at three separate games in progress on three separate diamonds.  "Are we late?"
    "No," Mike said.  "Hers is the second game on this first field."
    Mike parked the Mustang, and by the time he and Rachel reached the small, crowded bleachers, Caroline was there to meet them.  She was jumping from foot to foot, tugging on various parts of her new blue and gold uniform.
    "Wow, you guys, you just barely made it.  This game's about over, and we're up next.  Gotta run!"
    Rachel smiled and shook her head at her daughter's retreating back.  "Nice to see you, too, kid," she mumbled.
    By the time Rachel and Mike bought soft drinks and hot dogs, a double play ended the game on the field, and over half the people in the stands headed for the parking area.
    While eating her hot dog, Rachel watched Caroline's team huddle around a tall man with dark, wavy hair and broad shoulders.  Must be their coach.  The "hunk" Caroline was always talking about.
    The way he stood, relaxed, hands on hips, reminded her of Jared.  He was the right height, the right build   .   .   .   good grief, it was Jared!  She'd never seen him in anything other than a suit, except for that time he'd been wearing nothing but a towel.  Her cheeks flushed at the memory.
    Yes, that was Jared Morgan on the field, all right.  She'd recognize that tush anywhere.  The very thought made her cheeks sting hotter.
    What was he doing here?  Heaven help her.  If he was Caroline's coach, he was also Caroline's best friend's father.
    The gods must be laughing their heads off.  Here she'd been trying her best to keep her distance from Jared, and now their lives were more intertwined than ever.
    Well, it wasn't going to matter.  She couldn't let it.
    She forced her gaze away and concentrated on the opposing team warming up out on the field.  But no matter how she tried otherwise , her gaze kept straying back to Jared.
    She choked down the last bite of her hot dog just as the opposing team cleared the field, allowing Caroline's Bluejays their turn at warming up.
    Rachel wondered frantically if she could somehow hide.  But no, she couldn't do that.  When he saw her, and he would, she knew, she would simply have to face him.

 
     
     
    CHAPTER FIVE
     
    "Come on, you laggards, get into position," Jared hollered.  The outfield was ready and waiting, while his own daughter, Deb, and her best friend, Caro Harding, ambled slowly into the infield.  He popped a fly to left field and groaned when Susan missed it.  "Wake up out there!"
    "Did your mom make it, Caro?"  Deb's voice floated back to Jared while Susan picked up the ball and threw it to third base.
    "Yeah, she made it, finally," Caro answered.
    Deb turned around and walked backwards so she faced the stands.  "Which one is she?"
    "The one with the long, blonde hair, sitting next to my brother, Mike."
    Jared popped another fly, this one to right field.  When the bat connected with the ball, something clicked in his brain.
    Long blonde hair.  Brother.  Mike.  1965 fire – engine red rag – top Mustang.
    It couldn't be.
    Jared spun toward the stands and had to shade the sun from his eyes with his hand.  It couldn't be her.  It just couldn't be.  He wasn't that lucky.
    He scanned the faces in the stands, anxious, hopeful.  He spotted Mike Harding in the middle of the third row.  And next to him, staring back at him, just as stunned as he was — Rachel.  Not the Rachel he saw