He watched Pitch as he spoke every sentence, testing to see what would flip the switch in the younger man’s brain. The kid’s shoulders were squaring up again, and his hands were closing into fists, but it was the last sentence that lit a spark of steely determination in Pitch’s gray eyes. Sibling rivalry was a powerful motivator, as Luke could attest.

Luke straightened away from the desk and rested one hand on the other man’s shoulder pad. “You’ve got all the tools, kid. Now make your family proud.”

Pitch nodded before he gave Luke a tight smile. “Aren’t you going to tell me I gotta have heart?”

Luke liked the kid’s sense of humor. “Nah. I saw you get up after that third sack. You’ve got the heart covered.”

Pitch strode out of the office with his head up. Luke hung back so the other players could get a good look at their quarterback’s new attitude. Junius wound up his halftime speech, and with a slap of pads and a clack of cleats, the players readied themselves to head back out on the field.

As Luke joined the procession, Junius came up beside him. “Think you turned him around?”

Luke shrugged. “We won’t know until he runs the next play.”

“I’ve been around long enough to know how a winner walks out on the field.” Junius swung his gaze from Pitch to Luke. “You could have a real future as a coach.”

“Thanks.” Junius’s comment was not something to dismiss lightly, but all Luke could think about was the Series 7 study guide he’d hurled into the trash after Miranda walked out two nights ago.

After the evening milking, Miranda fumbled off her filthy rubber boots in the mudroom. Slumping onto the hard wooden bench, she braced her elbows on her knees, hanging her head in exhaustion and indecision. She needed a shower, but she wasn’t sure she could make it up the stairs just now.

Despite her physical fatigue, she was having a hard time sleeping. The wrench of her parting with Luke dropped like weight onto her heart and mind at night. Now she could add the anxiety of joblessness.

The sound of cheering drifted down the hall from the family room, and Miranda realized that someone was watching the Empire football game.

Did she want to see Luke on the wide-screen television, or would it hurt too much?

“Miranda? Is that you?” Patty’s voice echoed down the hallway as her silhouette appeared against the light. “Can I get you some tea or coffee?”

She needed comfort, not caffeine. “How about hot chocolate?”

“You got it,” Patty said. “Go on in and watch the game. I’ll bring it to you.”

Miranda knew she should offer to make it herself. Patty had pitched in at the barn until she needed to go check on Dennis and Theo.

The prospect of getting up and doing it all over again in the morning wrenched a groan from her throat.

Patty stuck her head into the mudroom. “You okay?”

“Just thinking I should go to the gym more often.”

“Farming’s hard work, especially if you’re not used to it. You’re doing an amazing job for a city slicker.”

Miranda managed to chuckle before she shoved up off the bench and staggered into the kitchen to wash her face and hands. “How are Theo and Dennis?”

Patty had banished her from the sickrooms, saying they couldn’t afford to lose their only healthy farmhand.

“Theo’s temperature broke an hour ago. I had to change every stitch on him and his bed because they were drenched.” Miranda could see tears of relief standing in Patty’s eyes. “Dennis is still up at 102 degrees, but we know that’s the way this flu runs. They both wanted to watch the game, so I let Theo join his dad in our bed.”

“You should be up there with them,” Miranda said, coming over to the stove, where her sister-in-law stirred the warming milk.

Patty gave her a wry smile and kept whisking. “I needed a break.”

Miranda nodded her understanding.

“The Empire’s backup quarterback isn’t doing so great.” Patty poured the steaming hot chocolate into the crockery mug she’d set beside the stove. “I wish your friend Archer wasn’t injured.”

“He wasn’t happy about being benched,” Miranda said without thinking.

“He told you that?” Patty handed Miranda the mug with her eyebrows raised.

Miranda brought the chocolate to her lips to give herself time to think. She took a tiny sip of the hot liquid. “I must have heard it on the radio.”

Patty was still watching her. “Luke Archer never questions his coach’s decisions in public.”

“I guess he told me, then.”

There was a moment’s silence before Patty took the pan to the sink and ran water into it. “Let’s go watch the second half of the game.”

Miranda cursed herself for being indiscreet. She was so tired she couldn’t think straight.

Following her sister-in-law into the family room, she curled up in one corner of the green-and-blue plaid sofa, dragging a knitted afghan over her lap.

The Empire had just returned to the field, and she found herself scanning the sideline for Luke’s golden head. She found him in an instant, despite the baseball cap he wore. She could recognize him just by the set of his shoulders and the shape of his legs, even with the pads distorting their long, muscular lines. He and the coach were conferring as the rookie quarterback, Brandon Pitch, ran onto the field.

“Let’s hope Archer gave Pitch what for at halftime,” Patty muttered.