Miracle Road es-7 Page 7

  With a silent apology to his sister, he dumped the lasagna in the garbage and made a ham sandwich. He sat down in front of the television to watch the Rockies game, but by the fourth inning, the walls were closing in. He could head over to Murphy’s Pub, order a beer, and sit out on the patio for a while. He would limit himself to one beer, maybe two. He wouldn’t stay until closing time. Just long enough so that he could come back and fall asleep without feeling claustrophobic.

  But instead of grabbing his wallet and heading for Murphy’s, he opened a bottle of Cabernet. Next he grabbed two wineglasses from the cabinet, exited his back door, and walked across his backyard to Hope’s where he stretched out in the same lounge chair he’d occupied the night before. He poured a glass and waited, his face tilted toward the sky.

  Ten minutes later, Hope opened her back door. “Lucca, is that you?”

  “You expecting somebody else?”

  “I’m not expecting anyone. I thought an animal had gotten into the yard. Roxy has been pawing at the back door and barking.”

  He started to make a comment about his own animalistic desires, but thought better of it. “Come on out, Hope. It’s another beautiful evening and I want to show you Cassiopeia.”

  She joined him and they passed another enjoyable two hours talking about stars and kindergarten and autumn activities in Eternity Springs. As he poured her a third glass of wine—her last, she insisted—she asked, “What’s it like to be an identical twin?”

  He considered it, then took the question to the stars. “Gemini, the Twins. The best time to see that constellation is in December. To see it now, we’d have to look for it shortly before dawn. Gemini has always been my favorite, and I’ll never forget the first time we found it, Tony and I. We were ten, I think. Maybe eleven. We snuck out of the house in December and climbed onto the roof at the high school. We had our star charts and a flashlight pointer. When we knew we’d found it, we looked at each other and that connection between us got a little stronger. After we researched all the different myths, Tony and I argued for weeks about which of us was which. In Babylonian astronomy, the main stars were known as the Great Twins and regarded as minor gods.”

  “I’ll bet you just loved that.”

  “Oh, yeah.” He grinned at the memory. “It was the Greek mythology that brought us to blows, though.”

  “Why is that?”

  “The Greeks made one twin a god, and the other a mortal. Castor and Pollux were the children of Leda and they were Argonauts. But Pollux was the son of the god Zeus and Castor was the son of the king of Sparta, a mortal. Of course, Tony and I both wanted to be Pollux. We ended up compromising by switching who got to be who every other month.”

  “So did Pollux have the better role in the mythology?”

  “Not really. Both brothers were Argonauts and they were two parts of a whole so when Castor died, Pollux begged his father, Zeus, to give Castor immortality, and he did, by uniting them together in the heavens.”

  “Are you and Tony two parts of a whole?”

  Lucca considered the question, picturing his brother the last time he’d seen him. Lucca had been sleeping off a wild night in a Caribbean beach cabana when Tony tracked him down. It was the first time in a long time he’d seen the same disgust on his brother’s face that he’d seen on his own when he looked into the mirror. “At times in our lives, yes. Other times, not so much. These days, we are in one of those not-so-much cycles.”

  “Why is that?”

  He went silent, not at all willing to answer her question. “Let’s change the subject. When do you start school?”

  When she didn’t respond right away, he thought she might press the issue. He didn’t relax until she said, “I start Wednesday. The first day for students is next Tuesday.”

  “And you said you teach something in addition to kindergarten?”

  “Last year I taught history, but I’m changing classes this year. With a small school like ours, most teachers wear a lot of different hats. Our phys ed teacher resigned yesterday, so I’ll be taking on that job. I’ll be recruiting coaches for our school teams. Want to help?”

  “No,” he said flatly, firmly, hoping she wouldn’t press him, because if she did he’d get up and leave, and he wasn’t ready to leave yet.

  Luckily, she let it go. “My principal called this morning and asked me to make the change, so the timing of our conversation last night was perfect. I might have made a push to keep my history classes, but what you said about the influence that sports can have on a student’s life made a real impression on me. I’m looking forward to the challenge.”

  Her scent distracted him. Some of his sister-in-law’s soap, he decided. The almond-vanilla scent Savannah called Autumn Rain. “I bet you are good at tackling challenges.”

  Now it was her turn to hesitate before responding. “Not always. Some challenges have knocked me on my rear. Others, I’m managing, but just barely.”

  “Tell me about one of them.”

  “I’m divorced. My ex contacts me every so often out of the blue, and that unfailingly threatens to throw me into a tailspin.”

  “How does he contact you? Phone? Email?”

  “Both. It varies.”

  “Why don’t you block him?”

  “I can’t. The why is a long story I’m not prepared to tell tonight. Now it’s my turn to ask that we change the subject. So, what did you do today?”

  Lucca was intrigued. He wanted to press her, but since she’d respected his wishes, he could do no less for her. “More paint prep. Found a few boards that needed to be replaced, so I had to make a run to the lumberyard. Since that’s just down the street from the bakery, I stopped in for a cinnamon roll. Those things are sinful. Anyway, I walked into the middle of a sitcom. The owner was in labor and her husband was tearing the place up looking for car keys. Then there was this weird-looking dog running around with some sort of half-chewed hose in his mouth and two college-age kids shouting at each other because somebody’d dropped a cellphone and broken the screen.”

  Hope laughed. “The dog’s name is Mortimer, but Cam usually calls him the Terminator. He’s a Boston terrier. And yes, the Murphys are having their baby. Celeste called me a little while ago to tell me they’ve gone to the hospital. Finally. Sarah’s more than a week overdue.”

  “Cam Murphy. He’s a friend of Zach’s, isn’t he? Runs the sporting goods store.”

  “Yes.” Hope gave him a brief background of the Murphy family, and finished by saying, “They are very nice people. It’s such an exciting time for them.”

  He started to ask her if she had any children, but since she’d put the brakes on any discussion about her ex, he figured he was better off staying away from that subject. “I never did get my cinnamon roll.”

  “Your arteries thank you. Now, I’d better go inside. I have an early meeting at school tomorrow morning that I need to prepare for. Feel free to stay and watch the sky for as long as you want. Thanks for the lesson and the wine.”

  “You’re welcome.” He waited until she’d almost reached her back door, a question hovering on his tongue. Did he really want to do this? He couldn’t forget that she was friends with his mother and sister. Did he really want to get any more involved with her and potentially complicate his life that way? His life was already complicated. Why add the redhead to the mix?

  Because she intrigues you?

  Hell. His indecision decided it for him. He said simply, “Good night.”

  He remained in her backyard, on her lounge chair, staring up at the crystal-clear sky for another twenty minutes. When he spied the streak of a falling star, he thought about today’s date. Mid-August. It was a beautiful night, perfect conditions.

  Rising, he picked up the wine bottle and empty glasses and made his way home, where he set his alarm and crawled into bed. Some things in life a man simply shouldn’t miss.

  When he awoke to the brrrr of his alarm at three thirty-five a.m., he rolled out of bed and spok
e into the darkness. “Or, a woman, either.”

  In her bedroom, Hope lay dreaming.

  I sit in the wooden rocking chair nursing three-month-old Holly, and I’m overwhelmed by pure, unadulterated love. The baby makes cooing sounds as her little fist beats against my bare breast. Softly, I sing, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.”

  I glance up as Mark sweeps into the kitchen still tying his tie. He’s wearing the blue one that his mother gave him for Christmas, and he looks so handsome that my heart, already warm and tender with love as I nourish our child, melts. Remembering the wildness of his lovemaking the night before, I smile almost shyly. “Good morning.”

  He offers me a distracted smile. “Have you seen the thumb drive I left on our dresser?”

  “You put a silver one in your briefcase last night before you came to bed.”

  “Oh. That’s right. Do I smell bacon?”

  “Holly’s been awake awhile. I thought you might like a big breakfast for a change. Your plate is keeping warm in the oven.”

  “I have a breakfast meeting. You should have asked me before cooking, Hope.”

  He approaches me and reaches down for Holly. The baby is clamped down hard on my nipple and when Mark yanks her away, I gasp in physical and emotional pain. Holly cries and I rise from my rocker, reaching for my baby, but Mark places Holly into his briefcase and walks briskly toward the door.

  “Mark. No. Don’t. My baby! Bring me back my baby.”

  “You lost her. You made breakfast. You made a stupid decision. You gave her away. You lost her. You lost her.” The door slams shut. A woman cackles with laughter. “She’s mine now. All mine.”

  “No!” Quicksand sucks at my feet as I fight my way to the kitchen door. It won’t open. I pound on the window. Pound. Pound. Glass rattles. “No! Holly! Bring her back! Holly!”

  Pound. Glass rattles. A dog barks.

  Her heart racing, breaking, Hope opened her eyes to darkness, blinked twice, and realized she’d been lost in a dream. A nightmare.

  Pound. Pound. Pound. Rattle. Roxy barked. What in the world?

  Her window. Someone was knocking on her window. Fear washed through her, and for a moment, she sat frozen. What should she do?

  Call 911. But as she reached for the telephone beside her bed, she heard the voice. “Wake up. Hey, Hope. Wake up!”

  Her thoughts came a mile a minute. Zach? Maybe her house was on fire! She grabbed the robe lying at the foot of her bed even as another possibility occurred to her: Lucca. She glanced toward her alarm clock. Red numerals glowed three forty-eight.

  Pound. Pound. Rattle. “Hope!”

  Not Zach. Lucca. At three forty-eight. He must be drunk.

  She moved to the window and wrenched it open. “What in the world are you doing?”

  “Finally. You sleep like the dead, woman. Hurry, get dressed. Something warm. I’ll be outside.”

  “Um, no. I’ll be in my bed under my covers. Go away, Romano.”

  “The next few hours will be the best of the year to see the Perseids. The waxing crescent moon has set. We have dark, clear skies. I know there is a spot up on Sinner’s Prayer Pass that’s perfect for viewing. I wouldn’t want to drive that road in bad weather, but tonight it’s fine. Come with me, Hope.”

  Perseids. “A meteor shower.”

  “Yes.”

  Her gaze trailed back to her clock. She had an early meeting at school and she didn’t function well on too little sleep. She could tell him no—and go back to her bed and to her nightmares. “Give me five minutes.”

  Hope dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt and hiking boots, then grabbed a jacket on her way out of the door. Excitement hummed in her blood, and she told herself that it was the prospect of seeing a meteor shower that thrilled her rather than the man.

  He had the truck running with the heater on and a steaming cup of coffee waiting for her in the cup holder. “Bless you,” she said, taking a sip. “You make good coffee.”

  “It’s from K-Cups. I’m almost as helpless with a regular coffeepot as Gabi is with a frying pan.”

  They made the trip up to Sinner’s Prayer Pass in companionable silence. He pulled off the road at a scenic overlook, then grabbed a quilt and a duffel from the backseat of the extended cab. “It’s a five-minute hike to our spot. We want to be away from the road so that our night vision won’t be compromised by any oncoming headlights.”

  “I don’t imagine there will be many cars on this road at this time of the morning,” she observed, trailing after him. “Can I help you carry anything?”

  “Grab our coffee cups. I have a thermos in my bag.” He pulled out a flashlight equipped with a red filter. “Stay close to me and watch your step.”

  After a short hike, they reached the observation spot he had chosen. Lucca spread the quilt on the ground, then said, “After you, Ms. Montgomery.”

  “Which direction do I look?”

  “Doesn’t matter. The Perseids radiate from a point in the constellation Perseus, the Hero, but you don’t need to watch it because the meteors appear in all parts of the sky. Just fill your field of vision with the stars and sky and you’ll see them.”

  “I’m excited,” she said, as she lay on her back and pillowed her head in her hands. “What time are they supposed to … oh! I see one.”

  The bright ball with a vivid train streaked across the sky, and Hope felt a rush of delight. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a shooting star.”

  “Keep watching. The Perseids strengthen in number as the night goes on. It’s possible we could see as many as fifty an hour.”

  “That would be so cool!”

  And it was. It was a magical night, like the Fourth of July, only directed by the hand of God. She oohed and aahed and felt silly because of it. She didn’t want to blink for fear of missing something spectacular.

  Time ticked by while a truly heavenly show burst across the sky. The night air chilled her, and she hugged herself, running her hands up and down her arms. Lucca must have noticed because he sat up and pulled a wool blanket from the duffel. He spread it over them both, and as the growing warmth chased away the chill, Hope gradually became aware of a different sort of warmth rising within her.

  She’d never been on a date with a man as hot as Lucca Romano. Not that this was a date. But it was a … well … she didn’t know what to call it, but whatever it was, lying on a quilt beneath a shooting-star sky with him created an air of intimacy and anticipation. On her side, anyway. Lucca showed no signs of reciprocation. He might as well have been lying next to Roxy as to her. And he never touched her dog if he could avoid it.

  For a man who played professional basketball, he’d certainly not demonstrated any ability to throw a pass.

  He’s not interested. So what? Let it go.

  The man was a head case, and she had enough of that in her life just dealing with herself. He’d been nice to include her tonight; she needed to leave it at that.

  “Still cold?” he asked her.

  “A little. I’m glad to have the blanket.”

  Matter-of-factly, he put his arm around her and tugged her against him. Startled, Hope stiffened for just a moment, then allowed herself to relax against him, absorb his body heat, and wallow in the masculine scent of him.

  “Do you know the story of Perseus?” he asked her.

  “Actually, I do. Greek mythology intrigued me as a teen. I kinda had a thing for him.”

  “Like the Greek god type, hmm?”

  She almost asked if he was fishing because heaven knows, he qualified. But that would cross the line to flirtatious, and despite the fact that she was lying beside him, she didn’t think she should go there. “He saved the princess. Gotta love a man who saves the woman in jeopardy.”

  “You’re not one of those modern women who expects the princess to save herself?”

  “I’m all for gender-neutral heroism. But if I’m a princess about to be eaten by a monster and a hot hero offers his sword, I’
m not going to turn down his assistance.”

  “That’s reasonable.”

  Was he aware that his thumb had begun to stroke up and down her arm?

  “When we talked about heroes once before, you mentioned your brother Zach. Who else are your heroes? Your father, maybe?”

  “My dad was my superhero. Gabi probably occupies that spot for me and the rest of my family now. You know she saved Zach’s life last year.”

  “Yes. She’s amazing.”

  “She is. So is … whoa … did you see that?”

  “I did! I counted six.”

  “Eight. There were two more at ten o’clock.”

  “Incredible!”

  “Yeah.” After a moment of quiet, he picked up the thread of conversation. “I have a friend who is a firefighter. He lost his sight in an explosion. Still managed to save a little kid’s life. He’s definitely one of my heroes. What about you? Who are your heroes?”

  Daniel Garrett came to mind immediately. She never talked about him or shared how important he was to her. Yet, here on this crisp, dark morning as she lay watching the heavens where with no warning, her hopeful anticipation was spectacularly rewarded again and again, it felt proper to mention him. “I have a friend who has quietly devoted his life to helping families who are in the midst of a crisis. Doing so takes him into some dangerous places, and more often than not leads to heartbreak. But he puts himself out there, puts himself through that, because he’s … well … a hero.”

  “Sounds like a good guy. What sort of crises?”

  Hope had skated as close to her own problems as she intended.

  “He looks for missing people,” she replied, knowing he would interpret that as searching for runaways. Ready to lighten things up, she added, “Then, of course, there is Amanda Reed. She’s a real hero of mine.”

  “Why is she a hero?”

  “Bags. She designs the most spectacular handbags.”

  “Through talking about serious stuff, are you?”

  “Pretty much, yes. Lucca, why does that one star seem to twinkle more than the others? It’s almost like it’s winking at me.”