Helen scratched her shoulder. “I don’t know. Money’s pretty tight. Will it cost much?”
“Let me see what I can do.” He looked out over the field to check that the boys were nowhere in sight.
“Coach?”
His gaze returned to her.
“That felt good. I think I might be able to get pretty fast if I practice more.” She grinned, and a surprising shyness lingered in the way she tried to cover her birthmark with her hand.
“Bet you’re right. You’re a good kid, and you’ve easily qualified for a varsity letter already. How about you come back on Monday and try practicing with the boys?”
“Really?” Her eyes widened with excitement and her shoulders dropped as she stood straighter. “They’re not going to know what hit them.”
Coach Moore laughed. Once she had a little training and started running in earnest, he had a feeling no one would know what hit them. She said goodbye and headed back to the school building, kicking her cracked leather boots at the occasional pebble in her path, her hands in the pockets of the baggy pantaloons she must have thought constituted a gym suit. How on earth did she run a world record time in that getup?
A few minutes later, on Burton’s way out of the school, he stuck his head into the music room. A familiar song trilled from a flute being played by a redheaded girl, but there was no sign of Mary Lou. He entered the classroom and headed toward a door on the far side of the room, passing two boys writing music on the chalkboard. Sure enough, in the classroom’s office behind a desk covered with several stacks of sheet music, there she sat.
He grinned and leaned against the doorframe. “Good, you’re still here.”
“Look, I’ve finally organized the music for the spring concert. Voilà!” She spread her hands. “Percussion, woodwinds, and brass. Everything is ready to hand out tomorrow.”
“Great, how about we go out dancing tonight to celebrate?”
“Celebrate? What? That I’m organized?” She flipped back her auburn curls. “What do you have up your sleeve, mister? You never take me out dancing unless you’re trying to butter me up for something.”
He looked around to make sure no students were within earshot and closed the door behind him. “Remember how I asked you about Helen Stephens at the basketball game last weekend?”
She nodded.
“You wouldn’t believe what just happened. I had some of the girls from the basketball team do a fifty-yard dash on the track and Helen tied the world record.”
She leaned back in her chair, looking pleased. “No kidding.”
“It was amazing. I suspected she was fast, but she ran that time untrained, without proper form, without knowing what she was doing. She wasn’t even wearing track shoes!” Describing it, he became breathless all over again. “If she starts training with the boys, I can try to get her ready for some bigger events. Who knows where all of this could lead?”
Mary Lou’s enthusiasm faded. “Before you get too far ahead of yourself, you’d better figure out where it will lead. Have you gotten a good look at the girl? She’s an outcast already. I covered Principal Newbolt’s math class a year or two ago, and the kids were merciless with their teasing. Do you want to make it all worse for her?”
“Worse? I figured being on a team might help.”
“Maybe, but you better talk with her parents. Make sure they’re willing to let her run with the boys.” Mary Lou chewed her lip. “Think the district will go for this? Girls don’t run track around here.”
Burton ran his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t thought of any of this.
“And didn’t you say she wasn’t even wearing track shoes? How will she get the money to pay for a pair? Why, she’s poor as a church mouse.” She reached out and took his hand. “Look, I’m not trying to rain on your parade, but think this all through before you get the girl’s hopes up.”
“I’ll go see her folks tomorrow evening. But what do you say? Still want to go dancing tonight?”
“Hmm, this girl must really be something to have put you in such a good mood.” She swept her hands over her hair to smooth it. “Sure, count me in. Now scoot so I can get everyone out of here and go home to doll myself up.”
“You’re perfect already.”
She pouted. “I know how the other girls will be looking at you tonight. They want to eat you up with a spoon.”
“No, ma’am, I only have eyes for you. I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock,” he said on his way out the door. He pictured Mary Lou and her green eyes looking up at him as he held her in his arms and the way she’d throw back her head to laugh, revealing the pale skin of her neck. Maybe she’d wear that jade-colored dress, the one she knew he liked, the one that twirled and showed off her gorgeous long legs.
Whistling, he ambled through the school lobby and passed the trophy case full of athletic awards, pausing for a moment to look at the rows of medals and trophies his boys had won in past seasons. Forget state champs, Helen could go further than that. She was special. It wasn’t just her speed. She had spirit and was smart, but she needed help, and it didn’t look like she had anyone in her corner. Right then and there, he decided he’d do whatever it took to take her as far as he possibly could. If he needed to pay for Helen’s track shoes himself, by golly, he would. He hated the idea of dipping into the secret stash of money he had been squirreling away for an engagement ring for Mary Lou, but how many times do you discover a world-class athlete smack dab under your nose?
THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Burton drove across town to the Stephens farm, Mary
