Fielder's Choice by Pamela Aares Read Free Book Online Page B

traded me to the Giants and we moved out here, she just drifted off. I look back and realize we never had much in common. Sophie was the link between us, and it just wasn’t enough.” He moved his knight to an open spot on the board. “I’ll never know, though.”
    Scotty nodded toward the corner of the room. “You play guitar? I had you pegged for a keyboard sort of guy.”
    “Guilty,” Matt said, relieved to change the subject. “I’m pretty mediocre at it.”
    After Scotty left, the house seemed too quiet, as though the walls and floors and furniture were breathing in the night. Loneliness, if it had a sound, would sound just like that.
    His marriage to Liza had been lonely, maybe worse than having no relationship. The whole thing had been wrong from the start—he just hadn’t been experienced enough to realize it. The gap that loomed between them had been a yawning, dark space. He was pretty sure that if a man fell into such an abyss, he’d never come out.
    Some days he felt it was the place he’d rather be.
    He studied the chess board; Scotty had beaten him soundly. He swept the chess pieces into the drawer of the game table.
    He and Liza had married just out of college. She was a small-town girl on scholarship to the Ivy League school. She zeroed in on him, seeking connection. Playing sports and doing coursework left little time for dating. It was the path of least resistance to let their relationship unfold and to marry her. But he soon discovered they had little in common. No spark. No deep personal connection. He hadn’t recognized the importance of spark. Neither of them had. Not until it was too late.
    But he’d always been faithful. He prided himself on that. Some nights it eased the guilt he felt for not missing her.
    He picked up his guitar and strummed. Playing his guitar was the one thing that settled him after a home game. That and a six-pack. But maybe he should’ve tried going out on the town. Maybe he would.
    Like that would solve anything.
    Wrapping his hand around the neck of the guitar, he picked out a favorite ballad. His fingers easily found the chords, but his heart wasn’t in his playing. He set the guitar beside his chair, sat with his eyes closed, wondering at his disquiet, and then trudged up to his bedroom. He didn’t bother to flick on the light. The darkness made the cavernous room seem less empty and suited his somber thoughts. Suited them maybe too well.
     

Chapter 5
     
    Great. Just great. Alana had flown down to visit a friend in LA and all hell had broken loose at the ranch while she was away. The USDA made a surprise inspection, an inspection she guessed the county planning commission had a hand in spurring. They’d found everything up to standards, but it shook up the employees; they felt targeted. The pressure and the uncertainty were wearing people down—one of the crew supervisors had quit and gone to work for another vineyard. It didn’t take a genius to know that the staff wanted her to take care of the windmill permit so things could settle down. And it hadn’t helped the ranch’s relationship with the county when she’d missed an engagement she’d been scheduled to speak at. A fundraiser. Three hundred people and no guest speaker . If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought the events had been a setup.
    She tore the calendar from the wall in her grandmother’s study and threw it across the room. It slowly floated down onto the carpet. She picked it up and smoothed it across the desk. April. The last entry said call Alana and invite her for tea . That hadn’t happened. She ignored the shaky feeling in her chest as she flipped through the pages and tapped dates and engagements into her phone. If she missed another event, it would be by choice, not because she’d failed to note it.
    Frustrated and tired of being closed up in the house, she grabbed her hat and made her way past the staring eyes of the bronze lizard atop the peaked roof of the