Claire's Story: Chapter 1

Another gym, another town, another basketball game. “When had life become so monotonous?” Claire thought to herself. She couldn’t even begin to count the number of basketball games she’d been involved in throughout her lifetime. From the time she could dribble a ball throughout her college athletic career, she’d spent more Friday nights in a gymnasium than she cared to remember. Claire had thought that her weekends would be free after college, that she would finally be done with competitive basketball for a while.

However, life had taken an unexpected turn, as it most often does. Several job opportunities had seemingly just landed in her lap, each with perfect timing and providing adequate income. Claire was now in her fourth year of coaching the sport she had formerly played, once again cooped inside of closterphobic gymnasiums instead of riding horseback on the open range, as she’d always imagined.

There she sat with her chin resting absentmindedly in her palm, as her colleague coached a rather boring group of second-string girls. It was the B-team, and Claire was sitting on the bench, more for moral support than anything else. Her own team had already won the tournament, but she couldn’t begin her weekend until all of Flatland’s teams had completed their games. At least she didn’t have to endure a lengthy bus ride home. Her house was less than five minutes from the school, and she would be at home, showered, and in bed within the hour. “At home and in bed before 10 pm on a Friday night. Wow, how exciting my life has become,” Claire thought sarcastically.

She reacted with a little jump as her assistant coach called a time-out. Her team was ahead by more than 30 points well into the fourth quarter. The worst players were substituted into the game during the time-out, and Claire resumed her position. She stared across the floor to the opposing team’s stands. Several of the fans had begun to leave, most only having stayed to watch the intense game that Claire had coached less than an hour before.

Claire’s girls were good, but they had faced a comparable team in district rival Borger. It had been a close game, but the Flatland girls had prevailed again, preserving their undefeated season. “Why am I so unsatisfied with my job, when I’m obviously pretty good at it?” Claire wondered. She could see the Borger coaches sitting in the stands across from her, deep in conversation, no doubt debating what they would do the next time they faced their district rivals. They seemed completely immersed in and fulfilled with their careers as coaches, wildly gesturing and replaying parts of their most recent loss.

A tall man wearing a cowboy hat then interrupted the men’s conversation, possibly to say goodbye, or “good game Coach”, or something similar. He pleasantly shook hands and nodded a goodbye, then draped his arm around a young girl’s shoulders. Claire recognized the girl as one of the better players on Borger’s A-team that she had just defeated. The cowboy must be her father she thought. A little surprised, Claire didn’t think the man looked old enough to have a 13 year-old daughter. Thirty-something maybe, but no more, she concluded from the look of his broad shoulders and strong physique.

As Claire stared at him from across the court, he turned and met her gaze. Embarrassed that he’d caught her staring, she awkwardly diverted her eyes and randomly yelled “Come on Flatland!” It was then that she realized that the game had ended seconds before, and the teams were already giving sportsmanlike high-fives. Her assistant coach quizzically turned to Claire with her eyebrows raised. “Good game Coach,” Claire mustered, feeling the red heat of her ears and face. Once again she glanced at the opposing stands, but “Cowboy” was gone. She was immediately relieved, but also a little disappointed that she hadn’t gotten to admire him a little longer. He was quite dashing in stature, tall and broad. But his hat had been pulled down just far enough that Claire hadn’t been able to see much of his face. “What does it matter anyway,” she thought, “he obviously has a daughter, is likely married, and what’s more, he lives miles away.”

Almost an hour later, Claire was crawling into bed, her sheets cold and stiff. Tomorrow was Saturday, and at least she would be able to sleep in past 5am, or as late as her dogs would allow. Then maybe she would go for a long ride on her horse, one of the things she looked forward to the most throughout her long workweek.

Claire shivered and hugged her knees to her chest. Her bedroom was frigid, and it would be a few minutes before her body heat warmed the bed. Cold nights were the worst to sleep alone. She horribly missed the days when there was a boyfriend to snuggle up against, the radiating warmth of a man’s body to keep her warm. It had been almost a year since she’d ended her last relationship, and she had endured waves of loneliness that had made her physically ill.

Claire felt like she had experienced a rollercoaster of emotions over the past year, starting with the dissolution of a long relationship that she had expected to end in marriage. Aside from that, she was unenthusiastic about her coaching job: a career that she had never expected and was thoroughly bored with. It was a career of convenience: one that Claire was obviously talented in, and it pleased her parents. But she had no interest in advancing, nor did the job provide much besides financial security.

Flatland was where she and her ex-boyfriend had met and lived, where she had grown up, where her parents currently lived. She’d even bought a house and she seemed settled there. Inwardly though, the rollercoaster ride continued. This had been a year of growth for Claire. She knew that she didn’t want to settle in Flatland, that she had to get out, and soon.

She wanted to live her dream in the beauty of the mountains, to live among raw nature at its finest. Claire wanted to ride her horse under the expansive sky for hours without ever seeing another person. Some place where her dogs could freely roam without the danger of passing cars or crabby neighbors. And most of all, a place where she and her future lover could make a home and a life together.

Dreams. All dreams. But Claire was determined to get off the rollercoaster, shake off the remnants of her past relationship, and take fresh steps toward her lifelong dreams. She and her animal-loving friend Brooke would be moving to Wyoming come summertime. Claire had a job on a ranch just minutes outside of Yellowstone National Park, and Brooke would be working as a white-water rafting guide. The park had provided cheap living arrangements for both of them, and best of all, Claire would be able to bring along her dogs and her horse. Although it was just a plan for the summer, it was a start. A little taste of a big dream.

Claire had finally gotten warm under the covers. As she drifted off to sleep, her mind wandered back to that hidden face under the cowboy hat…