Chasing Sunsets: Chasing Series, #1

By Tess St. John

Six months ago, Zack's life fell apart. When he gets a call to be on the reality show Chasing Sunsets, he jumps at the chance. Staring at the curtain separating him from his partner, he hopes to win the prize money. At the very least, the race will provide a distraction and take his mind off his wife, off his life, and off all that's happened.

Nothing will ease Sadie's memories or give her back everything she's lost. But if she and the person on the other side of the drape are successful and win this competition, at least the prize money will pay off her debts.

When the curtain falls, Zack and Sadie are face to face. In an unexpected twist on the norm, instead of competing with a complete stranger, all the couples this season are separated. They agree to participate, while refusing to explain why they split up. Will ten days racing around Texas together be long enough for them to repair their marriage, mend their broken hearts, and forgive the impossible decisions that were made?

Chasing Sunsets is Book 1 in the Chasing Series. All the books in the series stand alone, but might be more enjoyable read in sequence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tess St. John
• Release date: Nov 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9780986220579

Book preview

Prologue

Playing football during August in southeast Texas felt like working out with the sun in a sauna—humid and sweltering hot. Accustomed to this kind of weather having lived in Texas all his life hadn’t made this first day of freshman practice any easier for Zackary Truex.

Players took off their helmets, sweat pouring off their red faces. Everyone was out of breath since they’d just run the length of the field twice as fast as possible. God help them when they started wearing pads in this furnace.

Coach Landry, a huge man built like a refrigerator, told them to huddle when he called their names. He sectioned them off into groups of three. Andre Biel, Kasey Hunter, and Zackary Truex.

Confused, Zack eyed the other guys in his grouping wondering why they’d been put together. He assumed they’d be broken into sections with players trying out for the same positions, but these players weren’t going out for quarterback like he was.

After assigning everyone to a group, Coach Landry blew his whistle three times. Coach Calvin Banks ran over from the adjacent practice field. Why would the varsity coach be at freshman practice?

Zack stiffened.

He loathed the day everyone found out Coach Banks was his new stepdad. His mom and Cal had dated long distance for over two years. Last spring, Cal asked her to marry him and move to Katy. Zack and his mom argued non-stop the three months prior to the wedding. He didn’t want to move. His friends lived in Orange, two long hours away from Katy. He still played online video games with them most nights, but it didn’t compare to hanging out in person.

I requested Coach Landry break you into groups so you can watch out for each other, Cal began. Never leave practice or a game unless all three of you leave together. When one of you needs tutoring, a ride, or support, work it out and help each other. Now introduce yourselves.

Andre held out his hand. He’d be the first-string running back if the coaches didn’t move him up to junior varsity or maybe even varsity. It only took watching him one practice to realize the guy’s exceptional talent. With dark features and light brown eyes, he stood no taller than five-six, which might be the only reason the coaches didn’t move him to an upper-level squad. His hair was shaved around his head with short dreads on the top. I’m Dre.

Kasey. The blond dude, who caught every pass thrown in his vicinity, said, I went to Gingham and remember playing you last year. You ran a hundred and twenty-five yards on us.

They turned toward Zack.

He cleared his throat, feeling like his stepdad set him up to make friends and hating him for it. I’m Zack. Moved from Orange, Texas, this year.

The Gateway to Texas, Kasey said.

Zack smirked. How the hell do you know that?

My mom’s from Bridge City. The Shuberts are my cousins. Bridge City was the next town over from Orange, and everyone in both towns knew the Shuberts.

Yep, a friendship setup if he ever saw one.

~

The twelfth day of practice, the first day in full pads, Zack waited on the sideline next to Kasey watching the play being run on the field. Dre cradled the ball and dodged three tackles before sprinting into the end zone. No surprise. It’d be interesting to watch Dre against their opponents. If he stayed healthy, he’d rush for at least a thousand-yard season.

What’s wrong with you, Marshall? You in love or something? Hit somebody. Coach Landry smacked Mike Marshall’s helmet with his whistle. Coaches had done the same thing to everyone. It made a piercing, deafening sound. Mike, a bruiser at six-two and over two-hundred and fifty pounds, shook his head.

If Coach doesn’t stop hammering Mike’s helmet, he’s going to drive him crazy. Kasey grasped a bottle with a ninety-degree spout and squeezed, filling his mouth with green Gatorade.

It’s hotter than Satan’s balls.

After the next series of downs, Zack and Kasey jogged onto the field while putting on their helmets. Zack took the quarterback position and called the play. Seconds later, he yelled, Hut, hut, and shuffled backward. He faked a hand-off to Dre and checked for open receivers. The offensive lineman crept backward, trying to keep the defense at bay. Kasey cut across the field only five yards away. Zack threw the football where Kasey would be in three more strides.

A crushing blow rammed into his chest.

His body crashed to the turf.

Pinned under players, trying to inhale or move proved impossible. He stared at the cloudless, blue sky. At least he’d gotten the pass off. Had Kasey caught it?

The guys rolled off of Zack. Even without their weight, his chest still felt tight.

He couldn’t breathe.

His every cell screamed as he turned onto his side.

Enough for today, Coach Landry shouted.

With herculean effort, Zack struggled to his feet. Bent over, hands on his thighs, he spit on the ground.

Blood.

Was the blood from his mouth or his insides? He stared at the red-stained grass, concentrating on drawing air into his lungs.

You okay, man? He only saw a pair of cleats, but he recognized Dre’s voice.

Another set of cleats came into view. Perfect pass, Zack, Kasey said.

Good, he’d caught it.

Zack gathered his strength and tried to straighten. His chest stung like an angry hive of bees was attacking him for stealing their honey. He hunched back over and clutched his chest.

Kneel down. Dre used slight pressure on his shoulder.

Not needing to be told twice, Zack dropped to his hands and knees. He spit again, more blood.

I’ll get a trainer, Kasey murmured.

Don’t. The word didn’t make it to his mouth. His stepdad didn’t need to come out to check on him and everyone learn he and Cal were related. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe people wouldn’t eventually find out, yet he enjoyed simply being Zack for now.

Zack! Cal shouted from somewhere in the distance. He must’ve seen what happened from the varsity practice field.

Zack closed his eyes and collapsed face-first to the ground, helmet still on.

Football player down at Montgomery High School. Cal’s voice became louder. The air changed around him before his stepfather sounded close. Zack, son, can you hear me? He must be kneeling. An ambulance is on the way. Where do you hurt?

Everywhere.

Light-headed, he feared he might lose consciousness, but it was impossible with Cal’s chattering. Why aren’t you talking? Are you awake?

After a pause, Dre softly uttered, He’s spitting blood, sir.

Blood? Shit. Zack, talk to me.

Didn’t the man understand he couldn’t speak?

The blood and Cal’s terrified voice made his struggle to breathe worse as panic swelled in his throat.

A hand picked his up and held it like two guys pulling each other in for a hug. Squeeze my hand, Dre calmly instructed.

Words would never be enough to express to Dre how much Zack needed him at that moment. Weak, injured, and scared, Zack felt everything would be fine merely holding Dre’s hand. He returned the pressure as best he could.

He’s with us, Coach, Dre said.

Oh, thank God. You damn well better stay with us. You need to remain awake until the paramedics arrive. Where are they? They’re taking forever. Cal went on in an anxious voice. They’ll probably give you great drugs for the pain...

Zack fixated on the faint sound of sirens as they got louder, trying to block out his stepfather.

Whenever Dre squeezed his hand, Zack did the same.

Paramedics arrived and requested everyone step away. Dre clutched Zack’s hand one last time and released it. The emergency workers asked Zack if he was awake, and he moved his fingers. After examining him and getting him to move his arms and legs, they carefully flipped him onto his back and removed his helmet. When the pads were cut away from his chest, the constriction eased a bit. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

Cal, his friends, other players, and coaches stood behind the paramedics.

His stepfather said, Be careful, every minute or so.

It felt odd having a man care about him. He’d never known his father, who died in a car accident when he was two.

A paramedic said something about an IV, then jabbed his hand with a needle that must be the size of a goalpost. Agonizing pain streaked up his arm.

Suddenly, like magic, his pain disappeared. They could repeatedly stick painful needles in him for this kind of relief.

Darkness overtook him.

~

Hours later, Zack sat in a hospital bed watching the door to his room close behind his mother and Cal as they left.

The room was pleasantly cool, although his mother complained it was as cold as a walk-in freezer, and smelled like alcohol. Required to stay overnight for observation, he’d more than likely be released in the morning according to the doctors. To everyone’s relief, the doctors promised he’d make a full recovery. The injury would heal like a bruise. They lectured him to give himself time to heal and not overdo it. His mother was understandably upset. He had no idea how he’d convince her to let him back on the field. Maybe Cal could help.

A quiet knock sounded before Dre walked through the door with Kasey behind him. Your mom looks pissed. Kasey pushed the door shut.

She doesn’t want me to play football, never has.

My mother feels the same way. She insisted I participate in a team sport. Dre shook his head. She hates that I picked football.

My mom loves it and encouraged me and my brothers to play, Kasey said. When we were young, she’d play with us. She taught me how to tackle someone at the age of five.

I think she was teaching you self-defense, Dre interjected. You need it with four brothers.

They laughed.

Damn, it hurt to laugh.

Coach Banks is your stepdad, huh? Dre asked.

Yeah, he and my mom got married this summer. I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want people to treat me differently.

Kasey lightly squeezed the bag attached to Zack’s IV. No one wants to be the coach’s kid. No matter your skill, if you start everyone will think it’s because you’re his kid.

I know I’m not starting. Stephens is too good. Which honestly made being on the team easier. Not battling for a starting position was fine with Zack. He’d come from a tiny private school playing six-man to a huge school with over four thousand students and didn’t expect to start. He’d work hard and be ready in case Stephens got hurt.

The door flew open. Mike hastened inside with Cal following him. Mike’s rosy face flamed almost as red as his hair. Zack, I’m sorry.

Don’t worry about it.

I didn’t mean to tackle you so hard. Coach says you have a pulmonary contusion.

It means a bruise on my lung. I’ll be fine.

Save your strength for our opponents next time. Kasey slapped Mike on the back.

The concerned expression on Mike’s face eased.

Cal studied them for a minute. Do you boys know why I broke you into small groups?

Because you thought I wouldn’t have any friends, Zack answered.

His stepdad shook his head.

You enjoy manipulating people? he teased, appreciating Cal wouldn’t get mad. The man never got angry. This afternoon was the first time he’d ever seen Cal upset.

No, you smartass. Cal smirked. I started the tradition the first year I coached. I survived being a teenager. I understand how hard high school is and the feeling of not belonging or fitting in. My dad served in the Army, and we moved often. I seemed to always be making new friends. Even though some players knew each other prior to coming to Montgomery, I still want each boy to have friends they can trust.

What is going on here? Out, out, out, a nurse fussed from the doorway. Her curly black hair stuck out in spikes all over her head, and she had to be in the same weight class as Mike. Visitor hours are over. My patient must rest.

On their way to the door, each guy clasped Zack’s hand the way Dre had earlier.

See you tomorrow, Kasey said as they left.

He smiled. Fearful he’d been set up for these friendships at first, he was now grateful to Cal.

~

Four years later

Zack jogged alongside his friends from the locker room. They were at the front of the pack with the other seniors. The humid fall night was chilly, causing everyone’s breath to form puffs of smoke. The scent of grilled burgers filled the air.

Here are your Stallions, Mr. Greevy announced over the loudspeaker.

They busted through a paper sign and trailed the flip-flopping cheerleaders onto the field. The crowd cheered as the players rushed to their sideline. Zack found his spot beside Cal. He loved being the backup quarterback. As such, he motioned plays to Stephens.

At home, he and Cal frequently went through down scenarios and play options. Four years as backup, he’d rarely entered a game, and when he had, it involved a hand-off to Dre or he spiked the ball. He practiced endlessly, although he liked the sideline much better. Most guys hated the bench, but in his position, Zack felt like a coach. Offensive players who needed help came to him, and he worked with them until they learned the plays. That was one reason the Stallions were two games away from the playoffs. With Dre as running back and Stephens as quarterback, they were state championship hopefuls.

Down 21 to 17 in the fourth quarter with a minute thirty on the clock, and no timeouts left, Cal faced him and murmured, Reverse left.

Surprised, because they never used that play first in a series of downs, he performed the signal to Stephens. Once the offense lined up, Stephens shouted the sequence for the hike. The ball went over his head. He spun around and dove for it.

Defensive linemen piled on top of him, along with a few offensive linemen trying to block. The whistle blew and the players, one by one, lifted from the pile. In the end, only a writhing Stephens remained on the ground.

Cal and the trainers hastened over to Stephens.

Instantly silent, the crowd waited. Players on both sides took a knee.

Kasey grabbed Zack’s jersey. Come on. You need to warm up.

He got to his feet and froze.

Simon and I will help you. Kasey pulled on his arm, and they dodged around their teammates until they were ten yards from Simon.

Kasey held out a football.

In a daze, Zack grasped the ball and settled it in his grip like he’d done thousands of times. He threw it to Simon, who then tossed it to Kasey. Kasey muttered, Relax. You do this every day.

No, I don’t, Zack replied through gritted teeth.

Kasey shoved the football into his chest pads. Yes, you do. This is like practice, the beach, and our backyards. Make the hand-off or the throw. You know every play and every scenario. Trust your teammates and trust yourself.

His friend was right. Zack threw to Simon until he heard applause.

Stephens was helped off the field by two trainers. Grimacing, clearly in a lot of pain, Stephens caught Zack’s gaze and yelled with unwavering confidence, It’s my turn to feed you the plays. You got this.

You’re going to the hospital, the head trainer said.

I’m staying until the game is over.

All the trainers gathered around to argue with Stephens.

Cal hastened over to Zack. Two, three, dive.

Nervous, excited, and not wanting to let anyone down, Zack checked the clock as he ran to the huddle. A minute and twenty left. He leaned forward and called the play. With a clap, the guys took their positions. He handed the ball to Dre. The defense anticipated a running play, and Dre gained a mere two yards. Cal named another running play for the third down, and it went much the same way.

He looked at the game clock, thirty-five seconds and counting, then to the sidelines. Stephens sat on a table and gave the sign for Dracula Out for the fourth down.

They’d never run this play. Zack designed it, and the team only practiced it a handful of times. But when Kasey, Dre and Zack spent time at the beach or threw the ball around in their backyards, they’d rehearsed it a lot.

He glanced at his stepdad. Grin on his face, Cal nodded.

They’d only get one shot at this with so little time on the clock.

Zack knelt in the huddle. Dracula Out. Does everyone remember what to do?

Brad, playing fullback, said, Nathan and I start on the line and cross each other in the middle of the field, right?

Right. Then keep running toward the end zone. I’ll either throw to you guys, Jacobs, or Kasey, whoever gets open, around the forty-yard line.

Kasey and Dre’s smiles were wide. In the confines of the huddle, Kasey said, Let’s fucking do this. On the forty.

The guys clapped and ran to their spots. Brad and Nathan set up as end linesmen. Kasey took his receiver position close to the left sideline and Jacobs the right. Zack stood in the shotgun formation behind the center, Dre beside him.

The clock read ten seconds.

He checked the defense to see if he needed to call an audible, not that he would. The routine of checking made him comfortable.

Just like at the beach, Dre uttered from beside him.

Blue 42, hut, hut. Zack caught the hike and sidestepped to the right.

Dre blocked a lineman rushing their way.

Zack faked a throw to the right, where Jacobs was covered by a safety and defensive end. Nathan and Brad had yet to cross. He turned toward the left sideline.

Kasey sprinted forward, two steps in front of the guy guarding him.

Zack launched the ball toward the forty.

He held his breath. The powerful stadium lights glinted off the ball as it spiraled through the air. Had he thrown it too far?

Hands reached up and snagged it. Kasey never missed a step as he made the catch and kept running.

Go! Go! Go!

The Stallions’ sideline and stands erupted in deafening cheers when Kasey scored.

Dre slapped Zack’s helmet. Knew you could do it.

Others congratulated him as they trotted off the field.

Hell of a pass. Simon shoulder bumped him as he charged onto the field for the extra point.

Kasey caught up to him as they made it off the playing field and held out his hand for a fist bump. At the same time, they said, On the forty.

Show off! Stephens pointed at him.

Cal hurried over and hugged Zack. Yes!

Six weeks later, Zack led the Stallions to a state championship victory.

The beginning is always today. ~ Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

Chapter One

Fourteen Years Later

Sadie Truex, a man reading from an iPad called.

Out of her periphery, Sadie saw a cameraman turn the lens her way. The cameras would take some getting used to since they would be her companions for the next ten days. Concentrating on iPad man, Sadie picked up her backpack and crossed the cream-tiled room toward him. Doubts nagged at her, making her uncertain she was prepared for this.

She signed up for this reality show three years ago, hoping it would one day come to Texas. Contestants were required to live in the state where the season was being taped. A couple of months ago, a representative phoned and offered her a spot on the show.

After flying to Dallas last night, she’d stayed in a hotel room provided by the network. Per instructions left in the room, she’d made it to the lobby at five-twenty this morning, ten minutes early. If the creators of the series were trying to exhaust entrants, the early hour would definitely