Chapter 98: Devil’s Home Field

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Amy, Naomi, and Sarah reached the same conclusion at almost the same time.

‘Who is this woman?’

They knew Katherine. Everyone around the football team knew Katherine. Penny Webb was different: older, polished, on camera, and familiar with Nolan in a way that did not fit a normal reporter-athlete relationship.

Penny did not explain herself.

“You owe us some footage,” she told Nolan. “Otherwise I have nothing to hand in.”

This was no longer their first interview. Since summer, she had covered Nolan often enough that the formal distance between them had thinned into something sharper.

“Come to my room tonight,” Nolan said under his breath.

“My coworkers are watching.”

“Then promise me first.”

Penny pinched his arm, smiling for the cameras. “You are impossible.”

“Promise.”

She gave him one small nod.

Mike, standing nearby, felt his imagination run straight into disaster. In his mind, Penny had once again been forced into some private agreement with Nolan Callahan.

The truth was less heroic and more complicated. Mike lacked the history between them. Penny had made her own choices long before this trip.

Nolan returned to practice for the camera. Penny interviewed Thomas, several players, and then Nolan himself about the coming game.

“Can Wasatch Ridge stop you?” she asked once the light was right.

Nolan looked past the lens toward the white stands.

“No.”

It was the kind of answer producers loved and coaches hated.

…

By the time the interviews ended, the sun had dropped behind the stadium.

At dinner, the players started teasing.

“Reporter lady staying with Nolan tonight?”

“Ask him.”

Cooper, recently returned to the team and still not fully aware of every rumor, cleared his throat and stepped toward Penny with a grin.

“Beautiful lady, I should warn you. Nolan has a girlfriend.”

Penny nodded. “I know.”

Cooper opened his mouth again.

Nolan looked at him. “Is your mother single?”

Cooper stopped breathing for a second.

Several veterans at the table buried their faces in their hands.

The nickname “Mother Hunter” did not come out in public often, but everyone who had been around long enough knew it.

Cooper retreated.

…

Later that night, Nolan sat at the desk in his hotel room with Wasatch Ridge film notes spread out under the lamp.

Penny arrived in the same work clothes she had worn all afternoon.

“Studying tactics?”

“Yes.”

“Then I will wait.”

She kicked off her heels, sat on the edge of the bed, and lifted her nylon-covered feet onto his thigh as if she had every intention of making his concentration worse.

“Odds?” she asked.

“Ninety percent.”

“I would say seventy.”

Nolan turned the pen in his fingers. “Why?”

“Devil’s home field.” Penny pointed toward the window. “Their crowd is nasty, their coaches know the place, and they have less film available than you think. My producer pulled what he could. Wasatch Ridge has been studying you, and if they are smart, they will not try to solve you first.”

“They will attack the team.”

“Exactly.”

Nolan accepted that.

Penny stretched her toes higher, deliberately annoying him.

“You smell that?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Three days,” she said, wickedly pleased with herself. “Saved for you. You men like disgusting things when you pretend they are special.”

Nolan looked at her.

She looked back.

“Still sure?” he asked.

Penny’s expression shifted from teasing to direct. “Yes. Same rules. If I tap twice, you stop.”

“Good.”

Their private games were adult, ugly, and chosen. Mike would have fainted if he knew half of it, but Mike was not in the room, and Penny was not there by accident.

When she tested Nolan’s patience one time too many, the tactics notebook closed.

The rest of the night stayed behind the hotel door. By the end, Penny chose to stay because she was too exhausted to drive anywhere safely. Before sleep, Nolan made her brush her teeth and wash her feet, which she claimed was the least romantic thing he had ever done.

“Practical,” he said.

“Awful.”

“Also practical.”

…

The next day, the stadium sounded hostile before the ball was ever kicked.

Wasatch Ridge’s players knelt together near their sideline, helmets off, praying in a tight circle. In the stands, white shirts and homemade signs turned the student section into a wall. Faith had a public presence in this part of Utah, and the crowd turned it into spectacle.

BHHS stood at midfield waiting for the formalities to end.

Then the chanting began.

Not polite chanting.

Not clever chanting.

The kind that made several cheerleaders cover their ears and made Flea glance at the security officers near the boundary.

“If we win,” Flea asked, “are they going to attack us?”

“Do not give them ideas,” Boar said.

Nolan watched the stands.

He had seen crowds turn ugly in other sports, and high school football in a charged community had its own version of that danger. No one needed to throw a punch for the atmosphere to become another opponent.

Penny stood near the media area with her crew, expression tight but camera-ready.

Sarah forced the cheer squad into formation and lifted her chin as if the noise were just another drumbeat.

The Rams finally rose from prayer.

The opening whistle approached.

Nolan looked across at Wasatch Ridge’s defense and smiled.

So this was the Devil’s home field.

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I hope this chapter drew you further into the story. Stick around, because there’s still a lot waiting just ahead.