Romance You're Going to Lose That Girl

The rain poured down in buckets. Hick had been carefully negotiating the unfamiliar road when he noticed a late model luxury car, pulled off the highway with a very flat back tire. Without considering the consequences, he pulled off behind the stranded vehicle. By the time he reached the driver's window, he was thoroughly drenched.

"Ma'am, if you pop open your trunk, I'll change your tire for you," Hick promised the attractive middle-aged woman behind the wheel.

"Thank you so much!" the woman gushed through the slightly open window. "I was just going to call triple A, but I'm sure it would take some time before anyone made it here. I hate to see you get so wet. I'll pay you for your time."

"That isn't how it works," Hick replied with a quick smile. "You're a lady in need and I'm doing my best to be a gentleman. A simple thank-you is all I'll accept."

"Well thank you again," the woman replied with a smile of her own as she noticed the young man's tee shirt was completely soaked and was sticking to his chest like a second skin.

"You aren't from around here, are you?" the woman asked as the rain ran down Hick's back, soaked his jeans and filled his sneakers.

"No, Ma'am, I'm not, but I'm expecting to start a job in the area this summer and hope to become a local, if that's possible. My friends call me Hick, Hick Wade."

The woman knew he was far too young for her, but that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate a well built man when she saw one. Impulsively, she picked up her cell phone and made a brief call as the man worked to change her tire.

Ten minutes later, she pulled back onto the highway after once again thanking Hick for his kindness. His clothes were completely saturated by that time. As he walked back to his truck, the rain suddenly stopped. The timing of the situation caused the young man to chuckle to himself.

The road was very lightly traveled, so he walked to the passenger side of his old pickup truck and opened the back passenger-side door of the club cab. He opened the front passenger door, dug a new pair of board shorts out of a shopping bag, placed it on the seat and pulled off his wet shirt. He stepped between the two open doors to make certain he'd be concealed from any passing motorist, unbuckled his wet jeans and slowly peeled them down as the denim clung to his skin. Once he had kicked the jeans to the side, he quickly pulled his soaked boxers off and tossed them in the empty shopping bag. He picked up his shorts and bent over to step into them when a female voice sounded just a few feet behind him.

"You're under arrest for indecent exposure." Stunned, Hick spun around to see who was speaking.

He couldn't believe his luck. Standing less than twenty feet from him was a female police officer with her hand on her taser.

"I never tased a naked man before, but there's always a first time," the cop threatened, although her eyes appeared to be smiling. "Just pull those shorts on and we'll take a ride down to the station. I don't know how it works where you come from, but here in Warren County, people don't walk around naked. It's against the law."

Hick quickly stepped into his shorts as he formed his response. "Officer, I was trying to stay out of sight. I just changed a flat tire for a lady and was soaked to the bone. I didn't want to get my truck seat wet, so I thought I'd just slip into these new shorts. I just bought them this afternoon. I really didn't think anyone would see me. Why were you even there?"

"Your behavior was pretty suspicious," the lady cop replied. "You were being extremely furtive, like you were trying to hide something. That made it my duty to find out what you were doing."

"Now that you know I was just putting on dry clothes, could I just go about my business? No harm, no foul?"

"No harm? I was subjected to male nudity right here in public. What if I had been a ten year old girl? She would have gotten an eyeful and might have required therapy, at the very least," the policewoman replied with a slight smirk. "Are you going to come along peacefully or will I have to tase your skinny ass?"

"What about my truck?" an annoyed Hick asked.

"Court is in session right now. Judge Stanford will probably give you community service or something. I'll bring you back for your truck as soon she decides your fate."

"I've never heard of anything even close to this scenario taking place anywhere in the US, except in Mayberry" Hick countered as he reached into his truck for his phone. "I think I'll call a lawyer."

"If you bring anything out of that truck, I'll be forced to use my taser!" the cop warned. "Get in the back of my cruiser and we'll get this settled in short order."

Not sure if she was bluffing, Hick slammed his truck doors closed and angrily walked to the cruiser, opened a rear door and got in. He was committing everything to memory so his lawyer would have all the needed information to sue the damn town and every official in it.

Once he entered the municipal office, Hick was directed to a small room where he cooled his heels for fifteen minutes. Finally, his arresting officer came for him. She had him walk down a long hallway in front of her. He entered what appeared to be a small courtroom.

The courtroom was pretty standard, but the young woman sitting along the back wall was far from ordinary. Hick struggled to conceal his surprise at finding such a dark-haired beauty in a courtroom in a small town.

He managed to maintain a poker face until Judge Stanford was announced by Hick's arresting officer. It was the same lady for whom he had changed a tire less than an hour before! Not one to believe in coincidences, Hick realized he needed to find out what the game was and exactly how it concerned him.

"I see we have two defendants, both of whom have violated our traffic laws," the judge began.

"Your honor, this man was arrested for indecent exposure, not a traffic violation," the cop stated somewhat proudly.

"What did you say?" demanded the surprised judge as she looked from the policewoman to Hick and back to the officer. "This young man exposed himself to someone in public? I thought you were going to pick him up for a traffic violation. What happened?"

"I caught him stark naked next to his parked truck," the cop responded with a noticeable smirk as she held up a flash drive. "I downloaded the video from my body-cam so you could see the proof. I thought you'd want to view it."

"Well, of course I would," the Judge responded as she turned her gaze back to Hick. "I'll have to look at the evidence before I pass judgment, so sit still."

Hick couldn't help but feel embarrassed. The police officer and Judge Stanford appeared to watch the body cam video several times. The most embarrassing part was how the two women giggled like junior-high girls.

"Okay, I've seen enough," Judge Stanford stated before chuckling at her own statement.

"I want the two defendants to approach the bench for sentencing."

"Your Honor! You can't sentence me without a trial, or at least a hearing of some kind," Hick insisted.

"Young man, you strolled into my courtroom in a pair of shorts with no shirt or shoes. The deputy has video proof of you appearing naked in public. You aren't exactly overdressed now. You don't have a pant leg to stand on.

"I suggest you wait to see what your sentence is before you get too upset. There's no reason to get your underwear in a bunch, if you were wearing any," the Judge stated with a big grin.

"Please approach the bench, young man. Miss Bailey, would you come forward as well?"

Rachel Bailey had been ordered to appear in court after receiving her third speeding ticket in as many months. She had known Judge Stanford, "Aunt Jen," since she was a child. Although Judge Stanford was not an actual blood relative, she and Rachel's mother had been best friends since high school.

Rachel was caught by surprise when the man came into the courtroom followed by Janice Connors, the only female deputy in the county. He was wearing a pair of board shorts and nothing else. The exchange between Aunt Jen and Janice Connors made her wonder what was really going on.

As Rachel approached the bench, she made an obvious effort to stand as far from the shirtless man as she could. The evil grin on Aunt Jen's face caused Rachel some concern.

"This court does not want to see either of you carry a criminal record or serve time in jail for your serious, but unintentional, breaking of our laws. I'm sure Miss Bailey did not realize she was traveling 35 miles per hour over the posted limit.

"Hick had no idea how public nudity was viewed in Warren County," the judge continued as she looked from Rachel to Hick. "I think justice would best be served by assigning each of you community service."

Hick felt immediately relief at the judge's proclaimed intentions. He could easily perform some sort of public service. He would also take the time to determine why the judge had obviously singled him out. She had practically stated she had told the cop to arrest him on a trumped up charge.

"I saw a poster while I was waiting in that little room. The local youth league team is looking for a baseball coach. I could volunteer for that. I was a pretty good ball player in school," Hick suggested.

Judge Stanford broke into a smile as she nodded in agreement. "That's great to know. That position has recently been filled. However, my daughter's softball team needs a coach. The lady they had last year is quite pregnant and can't help this season. I'll get your information and send an email to the other parents that we've found a coach. I'll email you the roster and team contact information, along with times and places for practice and games."

"How old is your daughter?" asked a worried Hick. "I never coached girls, nor played softball. How young are these girls?"

"It's a league for girls 13 to 15 years old," Judge Stanford replied as Hick visibly cringed. "These are very good girls. They're at an impressionable age, so your conduct had better be above reproach."

Hick remained silent, which encouraged the judge to turn her attention to Rachel.

"You know I play volleyball at State. I could coach a girl's volleyball team," the young woman volunteered as she considered how easily she might get off for speeding.

"I'll keep that in mind when volleyball starts up in the fall. Right now, there's no demand for a volleyball coach," the judge responded. "However, I think the parents of the girls on the softball team would be more at ease if there were a female assistant coach present at all the practices and games."

"Aunt Jen! You can't think I'd want to be anywhere near a pervert like this guy. I'm surprised you're even considering allowing him near your daughter and the other girls. He was just arrested for indecent exposure," Rachel stated. "The guy will probably be pulling it out and beating it during the seventh inning stretch!"

"Hopefully, he'll wait that long," Judge Stanford retorted thoughtfully. "The girls only play seven innings, so they should be on their way home by the time any chickens got choked."

"What if he decides to spank the monkey during practice?" Rachel demanded as she glared at an obviously bemused Hick. "What am I supposed to do?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something appropriate. I saw the video and we sure don't want him disciplining that gorilla in front of the girls," the judge replied with an even bigger grin.

"Your Honor, I'll try to be in the vicinity when the girls are playing," volunteered Janice, the deputy. "My niece is on the team, so I can get her schedule. I'll keep a close eye on him. If he so much as thinks about making the bald man cry, I'll be all over him."

"I'm sure you will, Deputy. Your zeal to protect the young ladies on the team is admirable, but unnecessary, I hope. Hick, can you promise me you'll keep most of your clothes on and refrain from wrestling the eel, at least while in the presence of the girls on the team?"

By this time, Hick had determined he had been set up, shanghaied really, into coaching the Judge Stanford's daughter's softball team. He knew that she'd never allow him anywhere near the girls if she really thought he was some sort of pervert. Once he had determined the situation, he found the banter between the judge and his arresting officer quite amusing, even though it was at his expense.

"Your Honor, I believe that if Miss Bailey gives me a hand, it shouldn't be too hard, at least not for very long. The girls will be safe."

Rachel gasped at the entendre Hick made, while both the judge and the policewoman broke into loud guffaws.

"What's wrong with all of you?" Rachel demanded. "You arrest a man for running around naked, get all googley eyed at the damn video proof and then put him in charge of a group of teenage girls! As you were doing this, you made all kinds of inappropriate comments about... well, inappropriate things."

"My daughter needs a coach for her team. She also needs a good male role model in her life. Since my husband died last year, she's only been around other girls and women," Judge Stanford answered. "Hick is a gentleman and the type of man I want Amanda to be exposed to, pardon the pun, so she can learn the difference between good men and losers.

"You're going to help by making the other parents comfortable with a male coach and doing your best to become a role model yourself. No speeding, especially when you're near the girls, no swearing, and no drinking. You're not in the Marines anymore, and you need to embrace civilian life. That's what's going on here. If you find this too difficult, I'll simply take away your driver's license for an indeterminate period of time. "

Rachel knew Aunt Jen was aware how much she needed her license. "Okay, I'll be the assistant coach, but I won't be giving him a hand with his chicken, or eel, or whatever you want to call it. For the record, I think it's a bad idea to put a pervert in charge of a girls' softball team, and almost all men are perverts."

"I think we'll get along splendidly," quipped Hick as he rapidly moved his eyebrows up and down several times. "Maybe we should have dinner together to discuss our plans for the team."

"Not now, and not ever!" Rachel replied with more than a little disgust. "We will not hook up and we certainly will not date. In fact, we won't even be friends. If you so much as look at me cross eyed, I'll see that you never again derive any pleasure from that little monkey. We'll work together with the girls on the team and that will be the full extent of our relationship. Am I clear?"

"Does that mean I have to keep my clothes on at practices and games?" Hick asked with a crooked grin.

"It's good to see you two settled that," Judge Stanford broke in. "Apparently, the girls will get to see their coaches behaving like most married couples.

"Janice, please take Hick back to his truck. Rachel, you're free to go now, but keep this in mind: if you're caught speeding again, you won't be given community service with a random handsome hunk. You'll be using Uber for a long time."

The next morning, Hick was still chuckling as he left his motel room for an appointment at Valley Real Estate. He was amused at the lengths Judge Stanford had gone to find a coach for her daughter's team.

Denise Weatherall had been selling real estate in Pleasant Valley for almost twenty years, but she had never made that one big sale many of her more successful colleagues had managed. That suddenly changed.

After viewing four properties which did not appeal to her young client, he asked to look at a country estate listed at just over two million. Denise was caught by surprise at the request, but quickly arranged for a viewing.

Hick was noncommittal as he listened to Denise extol the virtues of the property. It was a huge old Victorian home on twenty acres with a large detached three-car garage, horse stables, swimming pool, a trout stream and numerous other amenities, including a rustic two-bedroom cabin located near the stables.

"I'll take this, Mrs. Weatherall," Hick declared as he finished his tour of the property.

"How much do you want to offer?" was the nervous realtor's first question as she considered how potential buyers often presented insultingly low offers.

"I'll pay the asking price, cash and no contingencies. Closing in two weeks. Write up the contract and I'll sign it this afternoon."

"Okay," the shocked but delighted realtor managed before taking a deep breath. "We'll go back to the office and write it up. I'll need proof of funds to present to the seller's agent. Will that be a problem?"

"Not at all, Mrs. Weatherall," Hick replied as he once again gazed at the property. "I do ask that you not tell anyone who's buying the property, at least until it closes. Title will be held by HKK LLC, of which I am the sole officer."

Hick spent the evening sending texts and emails to the families of the girls on the softball team. The first practice was scheduled in two days, and he wanted to start out on the right foot. He always copied the parents and Rachel on any email or texts he sent.

Shortly after finishing his correspondence, his cell phone rang. He was surprised to hear the voice of a teen girl.

"Mr. Wade? This is Amanda Stanford, Judge Stanford's daughter," the girl began. "Mom told me to ask if you could come to our place for dinner tomorrow night. Some of my friends from the team are coming over and we all want to meet our new coach."

"I'd be delighted," Hick responded immediately. "Tell your Mom I said thanks. What time should I arrive?"

The next evening, Hick parked on the street in front of Judge Stanford's house, since her driveway was crammed with vehicles. Hick realized he was going to be given the once-over and probably grilled by a few parents and players.

A slim, dark-haired girl opened the door for him. "Mr. Wade? I'm Amanda Stanford. I played outfield last year, but I'd like to play second base this year."

Hick laughed at the girl's enthusiasm and how quickly she had managed to get her oar into the water for consideration as an infielder. "Coach Rachel and I will determine where everyone plays after we have a couple of practices, but your request will be considered."

Amanda nodded in understanding and led Hick into the living room. He was surprised at the number of people, both adults and teen girls, present in the large room.

Judge Stanford gave Hick and quick hug and then introduced him to the gathering. "This is Hick Wade, everyone. He's new to the area, but hopes to make our town his home. He's kindly agreed, along with Rachel Bailey who couldn't make it tonight, to coach the girls."

Hick spent the next half hour meeting parents and team members, as well as answering a slew of questions. His responses to more personal questions were deliberately vague, but he gladly shared his baseball experiences and general background with everyone.

When an attractive woman in her fifties approached Hick, he quickly made an educated guess. "Are you Rachel's mother? You strongly resemble her, and she's quite beautiful."

The woman beamed as she shook his hand. "Thank you for the compliment. I'm June. Rachel led me to believe you were some sort of pudgy, foul-smelling character with little education and no charisma. You must have made quite an impression on her."

"It sounds like it," Hick agreed with a smile. "Too bad it wasn't positive."

"I've discovered over the years that when one of my daughters plays down the looks and personality of a young man, she is actually impressed. I can see why Rachel cast you in such a negative light. You're a very good-looking young man, even when you're fully clothed."

"Will I never live that down? I'm really not the kind of guy who runs around naked in public. That was a culmination of events which were beyond my control."

"While I'm sure it was embarrassing for you, it made Jen's day. She's mentioned the body cam video several times over the last two days," June replied. "I know what you mean, however. Sometimes I have trouble resisting the urge to take my clothes off in public, especially with a police officer nearby."

"I'd pay good money to see that video," Hick quipped, causing June to blush a bright red.

At that moment, Jen Stanford announced the buffet dinner was ready. Hick was guided to the front of the line by Amanda. He spent the next two hours enjoying the catered meal and responding to questions directed his way.

Rachel returned home after work the next afternoon to dress for practice and get her softball equipment when her mother walked into her room.

"I met your dumpy, foul-smelling associate last night at Jen's," June began.

"I have to hurry or I'll be late for the first practice. If I am, Aunt Jen will probably pull my license, so make your point, Mother," Rachel insisted as she pulled her glove from her closet.

"My point would be that he seemed quite nice. He's obviously educated, good looking, personable and quite good looking."

"Maybe he's into cougars. At least that would be better than exposing himself in public. It's not even considered perverted these days," Rachel retorted.

"He was very complimentary, but your father seriously frowns on any cougaring by his wife, to say the least. Hick knew who I was before we were introduced. He told me I strongly resembled you, and that you are quite beautiful."

June couldn't conceal her smile when her daughter suddenly turned her complete attention to her. "He said that? What kind of guy makes a lame statement like that to a woman old enough to be his mother?"

"I would guess the kind of guy who finds the daughter quite attractive," June replied. "You need to realize that not every man is like the jerk who hurt you so badly in the Marines. Try being a little less prickly. You could miss out on a great guy by blaming every man for the actions of one."

"Mom, think about it. His name is Hick! He drives some old truck. He's got no ambition. He's some kind of redneck asshole who runs around stripping his clothes off in front of people," Rachel stated. "You should be advising me to avoid men like him, not encouraging me to have his babies."

"You know very well I 'm not encouraging you to get pregnant by him, or even have sex with him," June retorted immediately. "I just want you to stop assuming all men are bastards because you had a bad experience."

"I do appreciate your concern, Mom, but I'm a grown-ass woman, a veteran. I'll make my own decisions. Of course I want a family of my own some day, but it'll have to be with someone I trust totally. I haven't met anyone who even comes close, and that certainly holds true for that damn hick, Hick."

Hick was at the ball field a little early and introduced himself to any players or parents who had not met him the previous evening. The girls were just taking the practice field when Rachel came striding up to him as the girls turned their attention to the impending clash.

"I'll thank you to stop talking to my 'beautiful' mother and any other relatives I have. You and I are not friends, and we will never be friends. Let that sink into your rural 'aw shucks' persona," Rachel demanded as Hick simply waited for her to end her tirade.

"I was thinking one of us could work with some girls on ground balls while the other hit some fungos to the outfielders," Hick replied calmly. "Which would you prefer?"

"Fungos?" repeated a still irate Rachel. "What the fuck is a fungo?"

"Coach Bailey just swore!" exclaimed a girl Hick now knew to be Beth.

"I'm so sorry!" apologized Rachel to all the girls listening. "I shouldn't have said that. I'll be more careful from now on."

"A fungo is a soft fly ball that you hit to the players. You toss the ball in the air and hit it up so it's a fly ball, not a line drive or anything hard. It's great practice for the girls to learn to judge flies."

"Oh, okay. I think I'll do the groundballs, if you don't mind," Rachel replied somewhat contritely. "I'm pretty sure I can do that right."

Hick was pleasantly surprised at how well most of the girls played on defense. The opposite was true when he held batting practice. He had played a lot of baseball, so throwing underhand was not a totally new concept. He put some speed on the pitches he threw to the girls. Many backed away while very few actually swung at the ball.

"Amanda, this is a fast pitch league, isn't it? Am I throwing harder than the pitchers you are up against in a game?" he asked.

"Maybe a little harder, but we never get many hits in a game. I guess we aren't very good batters," was her response.

Hick changed his strategy with Amanda's admission. He had the girls take a couple of practice swings so he could judge where the bat would cross the plate. Then he would tell the batter to take a practice swing as he pitched the ball. On his second pitch, Amanda hit a shot back up the middle.

"Did you see that?" the girl marveled. "I actually hit a fast pitch! It didn't sting at all." It took four more tries before she managed to connect again. This time, the ball sailed just inside the right field line. She was smiling from ear to ear as she handed the bat to a girl waiting her turn.

Some girls hit the ball better than others, but all of the girls made contact a few times as Hick pitched to them. "I want all of you be swinging when you bat. Start swinging sooner if the pitcher is throwing faster and a little later is she is throwing slower. I don't want batters striking out with the bat on their shoulder. We're playing to have fun and it's fun to hit the ball now and then, isn't it?"

"You won't be upset if we strike out on a bad pitch?" asked the girl Hick now knew to be Vanessa.

"The way I see it, this fast pitch softball is tougher than baseball because the pitcher is so close," Hick answered. "By the time the batter decides if the pitch is going to be over the plate, it's too late to swing. I say, start swinging as the pitcher releases the ball. Keep your eyes open and watch the ball, but don't worry if you miss it. We'll just keep practicing and get better."

When Hick worked with the girls who wanted to pitch, he had to conceal his disappointment. None of them were putting any velocity on the ball. The opposing team would be having a field day when batting.

At the end of practice, Hick made certain the players were aware of the next practice and the date and time of the first game. Then he asked the team for some help.

"I think we have the makings of a decent team, but all of you must know our pitching is a little weak. I'll be looking around for a mentor who can help out in that area. If any of your parents or friends have any ideas, pass them on to me. Thanks for coming, kids, and we'll see you Tuesday."

Rachel hung back as the girls gathered their equipment and headed for the parking area. She had been more than a little surprised at Hick's enthusiasm and attitude with the girls. He had been very encouraging, even when he pointed out mistakes. His smile and demeanor caused the girls to listen to his suggestions and do their best to get them right.

"I mentioned that I played volleyball at State," Rachel began. "One of my teammate's rooms with our school's best softball pitcher. Would you like me to ask her if she could come to practice and give the girls some pointers?"

"That would be great!" Hick enthused. "That's our weakest area. Anything would be an improvement."

As he spoke, Hick found himself staring at Rachel's face. He couldn't remember ever seeing a more beautiful woman.

"Do I have a bug on my face or something?" Rachel asked as Hick's scrutiny caused her concern.

"No, I was just lost in thought," asked Hick asked as he realized he was creeping out the lovely woman. "Thanks for working with me today. I was worried you'd spend the time telling the girls to avoid me and my monkey."

"We both know Aunt Jen shanghaied us into coaching Amanda's team," Rachel answered honestly. "If she suspected you were some kind of pervert or child molester, you'd be in jail, not coaching teenage girls.

"That still doesn't mean we'll be friends," she added. "I want to keep this about softball, so don't get any ideas."

"I understand," Hick replied as he hid his disappointment. "We'll work with the girls and that's it."

"That includes sweet talking Mom," Rachel. "Just stay away from my entire family, please. If you can manage that, we'll get along fine."

Hick promised himself he'd do exactly that, but fate had different plans. Saturday, he was eating at a local family diner where he had become a bit of a regular. He stopped into almost every day and the staff and regular customers had come to accept him. They answered his questions about the area and volunteered all kinds of unsolicited information.

He had barely ordered his lunch when a guy who appeared to be just out of high school sat down at the counter two seats away. He had just picked up a menu when three young men sitting at a nearby booth started in on him.

"Hey, Trey! How's your rug munching sister doing these days?" called a big guy nearest the counter. He spoke loudly enough for everyone in the diner to hear.

"What a shame a nice piece of ass like that swings the other way," a companion added. "Maybe I could fuck her into being straight. What do you think?"

"I think you assholes are full of shit. She's not gay and she sure as hell won't have anything to do with pathetic losers like you," the young man replied hotly.

The biggest man at the booth stood up, and his two companions quickly followed suit. Hick admired the young man as he stood to face the three larger men without any hesitation.

"You sure talk a lot of shit," the big guy stated as he stepped closer. "You know we're going to have to kick your ass now. Your mouth is writing checks your ass won't be able to cash."

Hick purposely moved off the stool and meaningfully placed himself next to the young man. "I'll loan him whatever he needs to cash that check. You pricks talk tough, but I don't think you have the balls to back it up. We're standing here right now. Start the ball rolling or get the hell out of here before we start the dance. You're ruining my meal."

The three men had been stunned when Hick stepped next to Trey and proceeded to make his threat. He stood there in jeans and a tight tee shirt. Something about his solid build and his complete confidence caused them to reconsider the situation. The three men looked at each other and then back at Hick.

"Are you dumb bastards hard of hearing?" Hick demanded as he picked up on the uncertainty of the would-be toughs. "Let's get this started or get your asses out the door. The choice is yours but make it right goddamn now."

"Come on guys," the apparent leader stated. "By the time we got done kicking their asses, the cops would be here and arrest us for doing a public service."

His two lackeys nodded in agreement and followed him out the door. As soon as the door closed, Hick heard several patrons exhale loudly. Then the place broke into nervous chatter.

"Jesus, Boy! That took some nerve," an older man Hick had learned was a local plumber declared. "You sure took it to them. They didn't want any part of what you were selling."

"Trey, you showed a lot of guts when you called the three of them out. How did you know your friend was going to back you up?" another man asked.

Hick noticed that the man he now knew as Trey was flushed and sweat was dripping off his brow. "I don't even know who he is. Thanks! Maybe I shouldn't have said anything, but how can a man let people say things like that about their sister?"

"You did exactly right," Hick stated calmly. "Men simply don't allow shit like that to go unchallenged."

"Thanks again. I lost my appetite, so I'm out of here, but I appreciate you backing me up," the young man stated as he grabbed Hick's hand and shook it before rushing out the door.

Hick sat back down at the counter as the waitress slid his order in front of him. "It's on the house, Hick. He's a good kid from a good family. You were great."

Hick had only taken a couple of bites when Janice Connors rushed into the diner and quickly scanned the interior. When her eyes fell on Hick calmly eating his meatloaf, she nodded to herself as she took a seat next to him.

"You wouldn't know anything about a fight taking place in here, would you, Hick? You seem to be enjoying Marge's meatloaf without a care in the world. What the hell happened?"

Before Hick could swallow his food, Ben Chasen, the local plumber, quickly began filling her in. "You're too late, Officer. Dan Reynolds and his two toadies started giving young Trey shit about his sister being gay and how they could fuck her back to being straight. Trey took offense, as any man would, and called them on it.

"They got up and strutted toward him like they'd just mop the floor with his ass for having the nerve to take offense at their insults. That was when Hick stepped in and backed the kid right to the damn hilt. He threw it in their faces and challenged them to get started or get the hell out. They decided to leave."

"That's it?" a surprised Janice asked. "No punches were thrown and no one was hurt? They just left?"

"That's pretty much the story, Deputy," answered Delores, the waitress. "I dialed 911 when that Dan Reynolds started on Trey. You sure got here quick."

"But too late, it seems. I was headed over for lunch when the call came in. I saw those three driving away when I parked. I wondered if they were involved," Janice admitted.

"Join me for lunch, Deputy?" Hick asked politely. "The meatloaf is excellent."

Trey was working on dessert Sunday evening when one of his brothers-in-law began his questioning. As was the norm, his two married sisters and their husbands were having Sunday dinner with the family.

"Did I hear through the grapevine that you were involved in a bit of trouble at The Rusty Spoon yesterday?" one of Trey's brothers-in-law asked.

"Nothing happened," Trey replied a little too quickly. He didn't want to have to repeat what Dan Reynolds and his friends had so cruelly announced in a public setting.

"That's not the way I heard it," the brother-in-law persisted. "I heard you and some stranger faced down three local toughs in the dinner. They went out the door with their tails between their legs."

"What happened, Trey?" asked his mother. "Don't try to brush this off as nothing. Tell us about it."

"It wasn't a big deal. Dan Reynolds was in the diner with Lou and Stretch. They started busting my chops so I told them to take a hike."

"What did they say?" his mother asked as the rest of the family listened intently.

"Aw, Mom. I'd rather not repeat it. They said some nasty things about Sis, and I got mad. Nothing happened," responded Trey.

"Son, this is like pulling teeth," his father stated. "Start at the beginning and tell us exactly what was said and what happened."

Trey knew that when his father became involved in a discussion, it was time to tell the entire story. He was a great father but didn't put up with disrespect from anyone. That was where Trey had learned that trait.

"They called Sis a rug muncher as soon as I sat down. They said they'd like to have sex with her to make her straight again. I couldn't let that go."

"Those miserable... What did you say to them?" Trey's oldest sister, Christine, asked.

Trey glanced at Rachel before responding. Tears were trickling down her cheeks. "I told them they were full of shit. Sis would never have anything to do with losers like them.

"They stood up and started for me, so I got up, too. I knew they were probably going to kick my ass, but I didn't care. I'll never let anyone talk about Rachel like that."

"Did they hit you, Trey?" his concerned father asked. "Were you hurt?"

"Ha! They didn't have the nerve. Dan Reynolds told me my mouth was writing checks my body couldn't cash. That was when this guy who was sitting at the counter waiting for his food stood up and moved next to me.

"He told the three of them he'd make sure I had the cash for the check! Then he flat out insisted they grow some balls and start the dance or get the hell out. They didn't know what to think. They stood there looking stupid for a few seconds. He called them dumb bastards and asked if they were hard of hearing. He acted like he wanted them to try something so he could take them down. They practically ran out the door," Trey concluded.

When Trey finished his story, Rachel was in tears and everyone else sat in open mouthed amazement.

"Who was the guy?" the brother-in-law asked. "Do you know him?"

"I never saw the guy before, but some of the other people in the diner seemed to know him. I was so rattled I just thanked him and left," Trey admitted.

"Tell me, Trey. Was he a little over six feet tall with dark hair? Was he a good-looking man, about 26 years old? Did he have a little scar over his left eye?" Trey's mother, June, asked.

"I guess he was near six foot and about that age. I didn't see any scar and I sure didn't check to see how handsome he was," Trey answered. "He was very confident. He looked like a jungle cat all coiled and ready to pounce."

"Mom, you have an idea who this mystery man was, don't you?" June's middle daughter, Candace, asked.

"I think I do. You know how Rachel has to coach girls' softball as community service for three speeding tickets? The young man she's assisting is good looking and appears to be extremely capable and confident. He's also a gentleman who would take offense at the comments of those jackals, much like Trey did."

"Is he like Rachel's boyfriend?" Candace asked.

"No!" Rachel exclaimed through her tears. "He's another loser. His name is Hick, if you can believe that. He drives an old pickup truck. He was arrested for indecent exposure. He is definitely not my boyfriend!"

"He sounds perfect!" Christine exclaimed. "He doesn't have self-esteem issues, has his own transportation, a cool nickname, and according to Mom, is very good looking. When can we meet him?"

"Never!" Rachel replied immediately. "He isn't my boyfriend and never will be."

"I'll invite him to dinner next Sunday so everyone can meet him," June stated with a smile as she ignored Rachel's protests. "He's a very personable, intelligent young man."

"He was willing to mix it up with those idiots to help out Trey and protect Rachel's honor," Christine's husband observed. "He'd fit right in with the family."

"Don't invite him to dinner!" Rachel demanded. "I don't need some loser getting into fights over me and dragging my name in the mud. My life is not a country western song. If you invite him, I won't be here!"

Tuesday found Hick chatting with the girls before practice began. They watched Rachel striding toward Hick and it was obvious to all that she was not a happy camper.

"Uh oh," Amanda remarked as she saw the anger in Rachel's face.

"I told you to stay away from my family! Why is that so hard? Why can't you just leave me alone?" Rachel demanded as she clenched and unclenched her fists.

"I haven't seen your mom since that night at Amanda's," a confused Hick replied. "I don't know what you're even talking about."

"You don't remember facing Dan Reynolds and his two idiot friends at The Rusty Spoon Saturday? It wasn't you that offered to kick their asses if they didn't get the hell out of the diner?" Rachel demanded.

"Trey is your brother? Those assholes were talking about you?" a shocked Hick asked before repeating himself. "Trey's your brother?"

Rachel suddenly felt her anger dissipate. Hick hadn't even known Dan Reynolds was referring to her as the rug muncher. He didn't know Trey was her brother. He wasn't trying to insert himself in her life!​