Blue Bloods of Bois D’Arc Read Free

some big-city butts.”
    “Big talk, but you won’t get the attention of the major college scouts like they do,” Jack said.
    “If we’re good, they have to notice. If we beat some good Dallas teams, they’ll pay attention.”
    “Maybe you’re right. It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind. But at least think about Dallas this fall. I can arrange it for you, even move your whole family. Just say the word. I own some property there and wouldn’t be surprised if your momma found a job, too.” He gave Rob an exaggerated wink as he turned and filled up his cup with ice-cold water.
    Rod was thinking about it. His mind was spinning a mile a minute. He’s right, I could get the attention of the big colleges, more than at Bois D’Arc. But if I didn’t make it as a starter, I would waste my whole senior year and any shot at being recruited by Texas A&M or SMU. Why should I risk it? And what about Cass? We’ve been secretly dating since last year against her father’s and grandfather’s wishes. I’d lose the one person I love most, who accepts me for who I am, not where I live.
    “Jack, I want to go to college and football is my only chance to get there. I don’t want to do anything to mess that up. I just want to play here. It’s home and where I need to be. Besides, Coach Haskins says he’s depending on me to pull this team together for a shot at a district championship.” Rod paused for a minute. “And there’s Cass Worthington, my girlfriend. I don’t want to leave her.”
    “Holy shit, your girlfriend is the granddaughter of old Randolph? Wow! Son, you do think big. Do you think for a second he or his disappointment of a son, John, will stand for that when they find out about your little secret? You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t try to have you arrested. He swings a lot of weight in this town. I’ve had my share of run-ins with him and he’s a tough old bird. He and his bank run this town with an iron fist. You don’t have a chance, son. I’d hate to see you get on the wrong side of old man Worthington over his granddaughter. If he liked you, he could really help you. But he doesn’t like you, and he can destroy you.
    “Well, that’s enough talk about football for one day,” Jack said dejectedly. “It’s too damn hot for golf anyway. Let’s head back to the clubhouse and get something cold to drink?”

Chapter 3
    Cool and dimly lit, the lounge was a comfortable refuge from the Texas sun bearing down on the open golf course. Jack had already finished his first beer by the time Rod returned from the kitchen after a chat with Junior.
    “This is the best part of playing golf, son. The nineteenth hole makes up for all the rest.” Jack waved to the bartender for another beer and a Coke for Rod. “Hope I didn’t bother you with that talk about moving to Dallas. It’s just that I’ve watched you develop over the last couple of years into a really good quarterback. With better coaching, you could write your own ticket next year for college. You know, you kinda remind me of myself when I was in high school,” Jack said before taking a long drag on the Salem Menthol he’d just started smoking. They didn’t taste as good as Camels, but to get old Doc McCombs off his back, he’d promised to try them.
    “My daddy wanted me to go into the Army right out of high school,” Jack said, “but I wasn’t so hot on that. It worked out okay, though. We played six-man football out in West Texas and even then some of us still had to play both ways. I was lucky enough to get a scholarship to Texas A&M.”
    Another beer loosened Jack up a little more and brought down the wall to a part of his life no one had ever heard him mention. Rod took in every word. By the late afternoon he knew more about the mysterious Jack Workman than anybody in Bois D’Arc.
    “I was a lot bigger in those days.” Jack fumbled around for his wallet and fished out a tattered photo to show Rod how he towered over the rest