“This is cool, Livie. Did your mommy do this for you?”
“No, Papaw did.” She took the bat from him, then handed him the ball. “I’m the batter, so you pitch to me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“No, you say, ‘Yes, Princess.’”
“My apologies, Princess.” She was adorable, and she was his. How about that. He took his place on a spot bare of grass where he thought her Papaw stood to pitch to her. It was only about ten feet from her batter’s box.
If things had gone as he’d planned before he’d been kidnapped, she could have watched him pitch for the Braves. Although if that had happened, there probably wouldn’t be an adorable princess in his life.
“You ready, slugger?”
“What’s a slugger?”
“A ballplayer who is really good hitting a ball.”
She grinned. “I’m a slugger princess.”
“Yes, you are.” He’d never believed in insta love, but he’d been wrong because he already loved this little girl. “Ready?”
“Play ball,” she yelled.
He slow-pitched the ball underhanded, right across the plate. She swung and missed. “Strike one.”
“That didn’t count. I was just practicing.”
“Of course. I forgot the batter has to practice first.” He’d watched where she swung the bat, and he put the next ball in that small space. Her bat connected with the ball, and the ball rolled along the grass toward him. She dropped the bat and took off for first base. He guessed that he was supposed to pick it upand race her to the base, so he did, but slowly, getting there a few steps behind her.
“Safe!” she yelled.
He wanted to laugh. She was something else. “Yes, you are. Now what, slugger?”
She put her little hands on her hips. “Well, we don’t have more people, so I bat again.”
“I see. When do I get to bat?”
“When you get me out, but that’s hard ’cause I’m too good.”
“You sure are.” She jogged back to home base and picked up her bat. With a little help from him pitching the ball where he knew she could hit it, she didn’t strike out. He slowed down on trying to get her out even more when she did hit it and twice, she reached second base. Each time she reached a base, she beamed with pride, and damn, was he ever proud of his little girl. He couldn’t remember when he’d had this much fun.
It had been a long time since he’d played baseball, and now he wondered why. Well, he knew why. It had been a dream that had been stolen from him, and it had hurt to even watch a game on TV. But he was over that now. His life was a good one, better than he’d thought possible back then. He should join a local amateur league if there was one in Myrtle Beach, and he bet Livie would love T-ball. She was old enough to join. He’d look into that when all this was over.
The back door opened, and Kendall came out with Detective Rossi. At seeing him, Livie hid behind Cooper. “Is he a bad man?” she whispered.
“No, honey, he’s a policeman.”
She didn’t come out from behind him, though, and his protectiveness came out in full force. Rossi had a job to do, and he understood that, but Livie had been traumatized enough.
“Detective,” Cooper said.
He nodded as he tried to see around Cooper. “She seems to be doing okay.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
“All right, I guess you’d know better than me since you haven’t let me talk to her.”
Livie wrapped her arms around his leg as if afraid she’d be snatched away, and Cooper wanted to pick her up and take her away. Instead, he said, “Kendall, why don’t you take Livie inside and let me talk to the detective.”