The Baseball Card Boyfriend (Starrycard Creek Bachelors #3)

Chapter 19

Chapter

Nineteen

CHRISTIAN

Christian zeroed in on the man with sandy brown hair and broad shoulders standing inches away from him—the fucker who thought he was Maggie’s boyfriend. There was no fucking way. From his plastic smile to how he looked at Maggie like she was some sort of prize, this man could not be her boyfriend.

“Who are you?” Christian demanded. He must have misheard the guy.

“I’m Doctor Robert Driscoll, Junior. I’m Maggie’s boyfriend. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Christian. I consulted with my father on your surgery, though we never met.”

“You’re Maggie’s boyfriend?” he asked, the words tasting bitter and acrid.

“Yes. For the last five years.”

Woof, woof, woof! Grrr!

“Lucky, stop!” McKenzie called.

Lucky sprinted through the crowd, then stopped in front of Bobby Junior, separating him from Maggie. The dog wasn’t vicious, but he sure as hell didn’t like this so-called boyfriend.

“Easy, boy,” Christian said, taking hold of the pup’s leash.

“Lucky got all crazy and ran away from the table. I saw him take off and came running to get him.”

“It’s okay, Kenz.”

“Who are you?” McKenzie asked Junior.

“I’m Dr. Driscoll. I’m Maggie’s boyfriend.”

McKenzie glared at the man. “You can’t be. My uncle Chris is?—”

“Kenz,” he said, cutting her off. “Please take Lucky back to the table. Let Izzy, Hailey, and the judges know we need a moment.”

McKenzie glared at the doctor. “Dogs don’t like you.”

The man didn’t reply. His features remained neutral, but surprise flickered briefly in his eyes.

“Kenz, take care of Lucky,” Christian said gently, mustering every ounce of strength to remain calm.

His niece watched him for a beat, then nodded.

Thank Christ, the kid didn’t ask a million questions. As if she sensed the weight of the situation, she and Lucky headed back to the table. He exhaled an even breath, centering himself, then checked on Maggie. She’d grown another shade paler.

“Let’s get you out of this crowd, and we can all talk somewhere more private.” He pressed his hand to her back. She walked like a zombie as he led her and Bobby Junior away from the square toward the creek. He spied a picnic table tucked behind a few aspens near the water and helped Maggie take a seat. He took the spot beside her, leaving Junior to sit across from them.

He fixed his gaze on the man. “Maggie’s got amnesia. She arrived at my ranch, then took a bad fall, hit her head, and lost consciousness. I rushed her to the hospital, where she spent days in a coma. She doesn’t remember a thing about her past.”

“That’s what she told me,” Bobby said, nodding. “I’m so sorry, Maggie. I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through. I didn’t expect to see you here. I figured you’d started your trip in Starrycard Creek and kept going.”

“What does that mean?” Maggie asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“You had a letter from your grandfather. You don’t have it now?” The man swallowed hard, his nervousness unmistakable. Christian could read people like he read pitches. Junior’s unease was undeniable.

“No,” Maggie said, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “All I had with me when I woke up was an old pink apron, a stone, and Christian’s baseball card. Did you read the letter? Did I share it with you? Maybe that could help me remember.”

Bobby’s features softened. “It didn’t say much…really. He just asked that you return some items to Christian Starrycard.”

“So, I came here to drop off the items, and then I was planning to travel around the state on my own? But I didn’t arrive here in a car. At least there wasn’t one in the area that belonged to me,” Maggie mused, her brow furrowing as she tried to piece together the story.

“You had to sell your car to pay your grandfather’s medical bills. My only guess is that you took the bus,” Bobby offered, his words coated in feigned sincerity.

Christian couldn’t hold back any longer. “You’re guessing?” he barked, a sharp edge to his voice. “You don’t know how your girlfriend planned to get around for a solo vacation?”

“It didn’t come up. We’d had a little argument. Do you remember, Mags?” Bobby asked, his voice laced with a saccharine sweetness that felt anything but genuine.

“No, I don’t,” Maggie replied.

Christian locked onto the man’s gaze. “What happened?”

Bobby glanced away. “Just normal couple’s stuff. Stress about work and relocating for my job.”

“Relocating?” Maggie repeated, confusion and disbelief coming off her in waves. “And I wanted that? I wanted to move out of Colorado?”

“You do,” Bobby cooed, his voice softening in what felt like an attempt to reassure her. “You always support me.”

Christian bristled. This relocation business was bullshit, and he couldn’t get past this guy not knowing a damned thing about Maggie’s welfare for the last fifteen days. “Do you have a car, Bobby?”

The man brightened. “A sixty-seven Corvette Sting Ray. Candy apple red. A real beauty.”

“Why didn’t you offer your car to her?” Christian pressed.

“It’s got a manual transmission. She can’t drive a stick shift,” he answered smoothly.

That answer didn’t cut it.

“Weren’t you worried when you hadn’t heard from her? She’s been with me for the last fifteen days. We’ve checked with the Sheriff’s Department. No one has been looking for her. Not one inquiry has been made,” he shot back.

Bobby folded his hands on the table. “Fifteen days is hardly a lifetime.” The man turned to Maggie. “We went to Fiji for three weeks. You probably don’t remember that when we were watching the sunset, I told you I’d fallen in love with you. It was just after your twenty-first birthday.”

Christian gnashed his teeth, holding back his fury.

“I’m sorry, Bobby,” she whispered. “I don’t remember.”

“Come on, man,” Christian continued. “Weren’t you worried even a little? Jesus, she hasn’t called or texted you in over two weeks. She lost her cell. Have you even tried to get ahold of her?”

Bobby kept his gaze trained on Maggie. “You asked for space to process the loss of your grandpa and having to sell your grandparents’ house and everything in it to pay his medical expenses. After the house sold, you wanted to get away and clear your head.”

Christian scrutinized the man. That wasn’t the truth—or at least not all of it. Years of reading players told him this guy was holding back.

“What happened with my grandfather? What about my parents or other family? I don’t remember anything,” she said, pain infused in her words.

“They’ve all passed. Your parents died when you were just a baby. You never knew them. Your grandparents raised you in Rocky Mountain City. We met when you were nineteen. I was a resident at Rocky Mountain Hospital and assisted in your late grandmother’s hip surgery.”

Maggie exhaled a shaky breath. “So, I have nobody, and I’ve lost everything?”

Christian’s heart twisted as anguish panged in his chest. Bobby looked at him, studying his expression, then offered Maggie that slippery smile. “You have me.”

Christian shook his head. This wasn’t adding up. “You’re a doctor. Your father is a doctor. You couldn’t help her with the expenses?”

“She…wouldn’t let me.” He reached into his jacket pocket. “Here, maybe this will help you understand our connection, Mags.”

Mags.

Christian glared at the man.

Bobby took out his phone and opened the photo app. “Here’s a shot of us after I passed my boards. Here we are at an event at the hospital. I earned an award.”

“Oh,” she said, staring at the pictures.

Christian’s heart sank.

There was no doubt Maggie and this man had history.

“Here’s one of you and your grandparents when you were in culinary school, but you dropped out to care for your grandmother. She had trouble after her surgery, and you insisted on being with her,” he said, handing her his phone.

“Those are my grandparents? What were their names?” she asked, peering at the picture.

“Fred and Constance Michaels.”

“I’m Maggie Michaels?” she asked, wonder edging out her anxiety.

“Yes. Margaret Kathleen Michaels.”

Holy shit!

“Christian,” she said, a faint smile on her lips, “my name has Michael and Kathleen in it like…” She trailed off and glanced at Bobby.

Like his ancestors.

His pulse kicked up. He wanted to bang the table and proclaim her name to be the proof needed to secure her as his. But it wasn’t proof. It was all she had to cling to in a life obscured by amnesia.

“May I see?” he asked gently and gestured to the phone.

She passed it to him, and he zeroed in on her. Her hair was shorter in this picture, but her kind smile remained the same. His gaze shifted from her to an elderly woman whose hazel eyes radiated warmth. He studied the older gentleman in the photo and gasped. “Oh my God.”

“What is it?” she asked, worry creasing her brow.

He set the phone on the table and stared at the man. Instantly, the scent of the mountain air was replaced with the smell of the leather of his glove, the faint tinge of sweaty socks, and the freshly cut grass of Rocky Mountain University’s practice fields. “I know him. I know your grandfather. I met him briefly when I was eighteen and still in high school. It was the day I showed up for RMU’s prospect camp.”

She shook her head, confusion clouding her gaze. “I don’t know what that is.”

“A day where the baseball staff evaluates high school athletes to decide who they want to recruit. I remember that day like it was yesterday. I was nervous. I had my lucky stone with me, and I’d misplaced it somewhere in the locker room before they called me out. Your grandfather was passing through. He had a badge clipped to his pocket. He worked there. He saw me searching the floor.”

Maggie looked at Bobby. “Did my grandfather work at RMU?”

“Yes, Fred was part of the crew that maintained the football and soccer facilities. Perhaps he moved around to the other fields. I’m not sure. I never asked him much about his work,” Bobby supplied, his gaze flickering with a hint of impatience, as if the topic was unworthy of his time.

“Well,” Christian continued, holding Maggie’s gaze and ignoring Junior, “your grandpa was on the baseball side that day. I was frazzled and nervous, the way you get when everything seems to ride on one moment. He must have seen it on my face because he asked if I was okay. I told him I’d lost something important—something that was meant only for me, and that I was due on the field, and this item could make or break the rest of my life. He patted my shoulder and said, ‘Just breathe, kid. Every storm passes. Go out there and give them everything you’ve got.’”

“Every storm passes, and give them everything you’ve got?” Maggie repeated.

He nodded, the faint whisper of a grin on his lips. “Yes, it made me think of Seamus, and then I kept repeating ‘Every storm passes’ to myself. It got me through camp. It got me on the team.”

“He must have found your stone,” Maggie said softly, nervously tracing circles on the table.

“Yes, that’s what I’m thinking.”

“What about the card? How did he get it?”

“I made sure all the maintenance and support staff received one.”

“I see,” she replied, then stilled.

“What is it, TBD?”

She searched his face. “Why didn’t he just give you back your stone?”

“That was the only time I’d interacted with your grandfather. Perhaps he meant to. He might have put it in his pocket or a drawer and forgot about it. I don’t know.”

“That wasn’t the only time,” Bobby chimed.

Christian’s jaw tightened. Fuck! That guy was still here. He pegged him with his gaze. “What are you talking about, Bobby?” he demanded, his voice a low rumble.

“Let me show you. There’s a video. Maggie’s in it, too.”

Christian watched as the man tapped his cell’s screen, an edge of impatience and dread creeping in. “What video?”

“At the ball game—the one where your shoulder went out. Look,” the man said, holding up the phone like it was the key to some long-lost treasure.

Christian leaned in as a chill ran through him. The video showed him on his knees, his face twisted in agony, desperately searching the crowd.

The camera zoomed out and panned to the stands as if to follow his line of sight, and there she was. His angel. His dream girl. While everyone else held up their phones, recording the horrific moment, she stood beside her grandfather, who looked like a shadow of his former self, his face hollow with age. Maggie’s hand rested over her heart. “Just breathe. Every storm passes,” she mouthed, her gaze locked with his, as if her very soul was reaching out to him, urging him to trust in her words and find solace in her unspoken promise.

“Maggie’s neighbor had season tickets and couldn’t attend the game. He gave the tickets to Fred. It was Maggie’s first Rattlers game. She was never into sports, though, and went because her grandfather wanted to go,” Bobby supplied.

“That’s how you know me,” she whispered with tears in her eyes.

Christian shook his head. “No, there’s no way. I would’ve remembered,” he replied, his heart sinking as if the ground beneath him was giving way.

Bobby pocketed his cell. “Listen, Christian,” he began, mock sincerity dripping from his words, “I understand that you feel protective of Maggie and care about her. She was injured, and you helped her. I’m a doctor. I understand trauma and trauma responses. Given Maggie’s memory loss and the life-altering injury that cost you your career, it’s understandable that the two of you would form a bond. Stress can amplify and accelerate that connection. But Maggie and I have been together for five years. That’s five years of memories and love. You’ve been with her for fifteen days, not even a month. I’m here now. I can take care of her and give her what she needs.”

A muscle ticked in Christian’s jaw. Sure, the doctor’s fancy words sounded logical, but his gut disagreed. His heart disagreed.

“What do you need, Maggie?” he asked, searching her pained expression when McKenzie’s voice cut through the heavy tension.

“Maggie, Maggie!” his niece called, running toward them. “You won. Your pie won. The pie people put the ribbons on the winning pies. The Stumble Juice Pumpkin Pie got first place, and those mean old guys who tried to cheat didn’t even get a ribbon.”

Maggie blinked as if being pulled from a dream. “That’s…that’s great news.”

“You won a pie contest?” Bobby asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My team did.”

“It’s such a great little hobby. She can bake one hell of a pie,” the man said, then brushed a few fallen leaves from the table’s surface.

This guy didn’t give a damn about Maggie.

Sweet Christ, Christian had the urge to punch him in his smug face.

“McKenzie, will you do me a favor?” Maggie asked.

“Sure! What do you want me to do?”

“Please tell everyone I’m so proud of them. I just need another minute here,” she said evenly.

He could tell she was drawing on every last bit of strength to stay in control. It damn near killed him to see her in pain.

“Okay!” McKenzie chimed before skipping to the table with the winning pies.

Bobby’s phone pinged, drawing his attention as he casually glanced at the screen. “It’s my dad. We need to get back to Rocky Mountain City. He has to consult on a case and always appreciates my opinion. Mags, let’s go,” he said, rising to his feet with an air of entitlement.

“Now?” Christian blurted out, his heart pounding with frustration. “She just won a big contest. This is her moment.”

“It’s just a pie-making contest,” Bobby replied dismissively, waving his hand as if swatting away a pesky fly. “And I need to get back to help a patient walk again. I’m sure you can discern which is the more pressing matter,” he continued, his voice dripping with condescension. Bobby’s gaze narrowed. “Do you have a problem with me taking my girlfriend home, Mr. Starrycard?”

Christian’s chest tightened. Anger surged within him like a wildfire. “Yeah, I have one hell of a problem,” he snapped, his voice low and dangerous. His fists clenched as he fought to keep his composure. “And it’s not just a pie-making contest.”

Maggie bolted to her feet. “I left my apron inside Christian’s family’s paper company,” she stammered, her bottom lip trembling.

“We can get you another apron, Mags,” Bobby replied, staring at his cell.

“No, this one came from an antique store. I want to get it. It’s important to me. Christian, can you let me in so I can retrieve it?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, reading between the lines. She was fighting tears and wanted a minute alone with him. And he sure as hell needed time with her away from this guy.

Bobby’s phone pinged again. “Mags, we need to leave. I’m parked across from the town hall. Here,” the man said, slipping a business card and pen from his pocket. He scribbled on it and handed it to Christian. “You can ship it to us. That’s our address—for now.”

“No, I need to get that apron,” Maggie blurted out. “I won’t be long. I’ll meet you at the town hall.” Without waiting for Bobby’s response, she hurried toward the shop.

Christian followed a step behind, but once they were out of Bobby’s view, he reached for her hand and gathered her into his arms.

She inhaled a shaky breath and sobbed against his chest. “Christian, I’m sorry…I never meant to do this to you. You must think I’m a horrible person. I had a boyfriend, and I fell in love with someone else. My mind is spinning. Those were pictures of me, and I have no recollection. Nothing. I don’t even remember my grandparents. And I?—”

He tightened his hold on her. She was on the cusp of a panic attack, and he couldn’t allow her to spiral. “Breathe. Maggie, look at me and breathe.”

She lifted her head, her warm hazel eyes glistening with tears.

“Every storm passes,” he said, trying to comfort her with her grandfather’s words. “This is not your fault. There was no way you could know that you had…” The word boyfriend caught in his throat, feeling foreign and unreal as if speaking it would solidify a reality he wasn’t ready to accept. A knot formed in his belly as the situation hit home. Part of him had always dreaded the thought that someone might be missing her. Maggie was incredible. How could anyone not fall for her? But this man didn’t love her the way she deserved to be loved. Still, there was no denying it—he was in her life, a part of her world.

She buried her face in his chest and wept, dampening his shirt with her tears. “I don’t know what to do. I want to remember my life. I want to know who I am. But I don’t want to leave you. I love you. What should I do? What am I supposed to do? What do we do?” she asked, trembling, tears slipping down her cheeks.

What did he want?

That was easy.

He wanted to whisk her into his arms and return to the ranch. He wanted to close the gate and never allow anyone, or anything, the chance to spoil what they had. He wanted to block out her past and keep her safe in his arms and in his bed. But that wasn’t fair. This was what the selfish part of him wanted—the part that believed she’d come to ease his pain and fill the emptiness after baseball. But he wasn’t that bitter man anymore, and he wasn’t focused only on his pain and suffering.

She deserved every chance to reclaim her past. What if her memories returned along with feelings for Bobby? What if he was the love of her life? Holy hell, it didn’t feel like it. But he couldn’t deny that he was biased in this matter. Yeah, the guy seemed self-centered, and the comment about Maggie’s baking being a little hobby made him want to kick his ass, but she’d spent five years with him. If he talked shit about this guy, he’d be talking shit about her choice. And he wasn’t about to make her feel any more pain. Still, he wasn’t about to put up a white flag and surrender.

Fuck no.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, touching his face.

“I’m thinking that I love you. I love it when you blush. I love it when I catch you humming to yourself as you bake. I love every part of you. But you can’t ignore this part of your life. This might be how you get your memories back. It sounds as if you loved your grandparents very much. I only met your grandfather once, but I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty that he was a good man. A kind man. A supportive man. All the things you are. And that makes me think your grandmother must have been just as wonderful and loving. I want you to have that piece of your life. I don’t know if I can give that to you, but maybe Bobby can.”

“But I’m not some divine angel you dreamed about. I’m just some girl you saw when you were in terrible pain and at your lowest moment,” she said, her voice trembling as she sniffled, tears brimming in her eyes.

His heart shattered at the sight of her pain. He cupped her face in his hands. “Maggie, I love you. I don’t care that we know how you appeared in my subconscious. You will always be my dream girl. I want what’s best for you. But do not think for a second that means I won’t fight for you. I will always fight for you.” He removed the ring from his pocket.

Her eyes widened in surprise, the tears momentarily forgotten. “Is that what I think it is?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“Yes,” he nodded, his voice filled with quiet determination. “This is for you. This is how committed I am to you. There will be a right time to ask you to be my wife. I know it. I feel it. But it’s not today. I love you too much to let you sacrifice the opportunity to get your memories back. I couldn’t live with myself without giving you the chance to see if you’re meant to be on a different path. All I want is for you to be happy.” His voice cracked as he returned the ring to his pocket, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He pulled out his phone, his hand still trembling. “Take my cell. If you need anything, call my grandpa Rex. I’ll borrow his phone, and I’ll keep it close, just for you. Whenever you need me, whether it’s tomorrow, next week, a decade from now, day or night—I’ll be there in a heartbeat. You are my world, Maggie. I’m yours, always and forever. I love you so much that it breaks my heart to think of you leaving, but I can’t ask you to stay. I can’t ask you to sacrifice your chance to regain what you’ve lost. All I want is you, but I love you too much to hold you back.”

“What are you saying?” she asked, her words barely audible through her sobs.

Christian’s heart clenched as his tears spilled onto his cheeks. “I have to let you go.”