by Emily March
She took a moment to formulate her response. “I worked in advertising out of college, but after my divorce, I was drifting. I needed a career change and the idea of working with children pulled at me. I was able to get my teaching certification without much trouble, and as for kindergarten, well, I love the little guys.”
“So you knew what you wanted,” Gabi said. “That’s my problem. I’m still looking.”
“Keep looking,” Hope replied, her tone insisting. “We have to keep looking and never give up believing that someday, we will find … what we seek. Keep looking, Gabi. Don’t settle. Don’t accept. Believe.”
“Wow,” Sarah said. “I’m hearing a lot of passion.”
“You must really love being a kindergarten teacher,” Gabi added.
“I love children. I really, really love kids. And you’ve had Michael long enough. Hand him over, Gabi. It’s my turn. I get to hold him.”
Keep him safe.
Oh, Holly, I’m so sorry.
SEVEN
Lucca walked into the Eternity Springs Community School on Saturday night with his mother and sister under protest. Somebody really should have considered the college football schedule when they lined up this event. There were three games on that he wanted to follow. He hoped his phone picked up the Internet in the school okay because he’d need to check scores from time to time, and he’d discovered that Internet access could be hit-or-miss in this remote little burg.
The guy who ran the local grocery store handed him a piece of paper listing volunteer assignments. Lucca read it over and frowned. “Why does Zach get to work the fishing booth and I have to work the art pavilion?”
“Because—” Maggie broke off as she abruptly stopped and slapped her palm against her forehead. “The cake. I forgot the cake. Lucca, would you go out to the car and get it? It needs to go to the kindergarten classroom. That’s down this hall”—she pointed toward the right—“third door on the left.”
The kindergarten classroom. Lucca’s mind immediately went to the kindergarten teacher. He’d been right the morning after the meteor shower when he’d said they wouldn’t see much of each other. Except for the instance when he’d run into her in the grocery store one evening and they’d exchanged small talk for a few moments, in the past month he’d seen her only in passing. He told himself that was a good thing. He almost believed it.
His mother continued, “I can’t believe I forgot it after all the trouble I went to in order to make it. Your grandmother’s cake is too much work to make in an ill-equipped kitchen. It’ll be so nice when Richard gets my new kitchen finished.”
Richard was the new contractor working at Aspenglow; Lucca’s grandmother’s cake was the best cake in the history of the world, Italian crème. The mention of it stopped Lucca dead in his tracks. “You made Nana’s cake?”
“Yes. For the cakewalk.”
That didn’t compute. No way. “You made Nana’s cake and you’re giving it away?”
“Well, yes. Sarah Murphy can’t do all the work.”
Maggie turned at the sound of her name, then crossed the hallway to visit with a couple Lucca didn’t know. He looked at his sister. “She made Nana’s cake.”
Gabi grinned widely. “Yep. And I’m going to win it.”
At the sight of his sister’s smile, something familiar stirred inside of Lucca. Competitiveness. He answered her grin with a sly smile of his own. “Don’t bet on it.”
He left the building and retrieved the cake. For a brief moment, he considered absconding with it—mainly to mess with Gabi—but his sense of fair play wouldn’t let him do it. Besides, his mother would kill him. On the way into the building, he saw Zach and his wife, Savannah, approaching, so he waited for them to catch up. “Hey, beautiful,” he said to Savannah. “Why don’t you ditch the lawman and run away with the better-looking brother?”
She lifted her brows innocently. “Oh, is Max in town?”
“Savannah!” Zach protested, scowling at her. He turned his attention toward the Tupperware cake carrier in Lucca’s hands and smirked. “Have you taken up baking in your spare time?”
“It’s Italian crème cake,” Lucca said. “Mom made it.”
Zach’s smirk died. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. She’s donating it to the cakewalk. I’m going to win it.”
“The hell you say. That’s the cake Maggie made for our wedding reception, isn’t it?”
“Yep.” His mother had been thrilled when Zach and Savannah accepted her offer to make the traditional Romano family fare when the two married almost a year ago. “You made a pig of yourself on it, as I recall.”
“It was the best thing I’d ever tasted.” Zach eyed the cake holder in Lucca’s hands and gave a determined nod. I’m going to win this one.”
Lucca shot his brother a smile full of challenge. “Don’t bet on it.”
Five minutes later, he sauntered into the kindergarten classroom carrying the cake holder with appropriate reverence and spoke his first words to Hope Montgomery in weeks. “Hello, Hope. Great sweater you’re wearing. At what point will this cake be the prize?”
She wore black slacks and a fire-engine red sweater that hugged her curves and looked as soft as down. She stared at him as if he were a bug she didn’t recognize. “Excuse me?”
“You look great in red, and I want to win this cake. How do I play?”
“The cakewalk begins in twenty minutes. It’ll be two tickets and you can buy them at the tables set up in the front of the school.”
“Excellent.” Lucca glanced around the room that had been cleared of furniture except for two long tables laden with baked goods lining the walls. On the tile floor, hot pink tape formed numbered squares placed in an oval. “So, what is the game? How do you play?”
“It’s like musical chairs without chairs. Participants walk around in a circle as the music plays. When it stops, they center on a number. The volunteer running the game will draw a number out of my basket, and the person who is standing on that number gets to choose a cake.”
Lucca frowned. “So it’s all chance? No skill required?”
“Nope.”
“Well, that’s no good.” He scowled at the eight-foot tables piled high with cakes and cupcakes, looking for a better solution. Maybe he could leave Nana’s cake inside its carrier and stack some cupcakes on top of it. Hide it in plain sight so that no one would notice it. His gaze settled on the table’s centerpiece. “That’s fancy. It’ll be the first to go.”
“It’s our grand prize cake. We’re having a special round for it.”
“How does that work?”
She explained how the Fun Night committee had sold special tickets for the round, scheduled to be the final one of the night. While she spoke, Lucca found himself becoming distracted. She really was pretty, and that sweater she wore, while appropriately kindergarten-teacher modest, did wonderful things for her figure.
She finished by saying, “… twenty-five dollars each. We sold out on the first day.”
Lucca did the math. “Six hundred twenty-five dollars for one cake? Not bad. What if—”
He was interrupted by his sister, who sailed into the room and asked, “Hope? How do I go about winning my Nana’s cake?”
Hope glanced from Gabi to Lucca and then to Zach, who had followed Gabi into the kindergarten room. Jack Davenport, Colt Rafferty, and Gabe Callahan trailed in after Zach.
Colt said, “You sold out of tickets for Sarah’s cake before I could nab one, but rumor has it that Maggie made that same cake she made for Zach’s wedding?”
Lucca scowled at his siblings. “Loudmouths.”
Hope folded her arms and studied the others. “How many of you want in on this?”
They all raised their hands.
“I repeat,” Lucca said. “Loudmouths.”
Zach suggested, “Change the game for Maggie’s cake, Hope. Make it musical chairs. Winner takes Italian crème.”
Interest popped up on a
ll their faces. “Contact sport,” Gabe said. “I like it.”
Hope drummed her fingers and considered it. “You people are ridiculous. Men will turn everything into competition, won’t they?”
“Excuse me,” Gabi protested. “I’m in on this. Don’t lump me in with those knuckle-dragging Neanderthals. I don’t have a manly bone in my body.”
“She speaks the truth,” Zach said. “Gabi’s the biggest girly-girl in town.”
Gabi looked down her nose and said, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You shouldn’t think of us as ridiculous, either,” Gabe said. “We’re doing our civic duty. In fact, I suggest you up the price of the buy-in.”
Hope appeared shocked by the suggestion. “Higher than Sarah’s, you mean? Wouldn’t that hurt her feelings?”
“Nah,” Zach, Gabe, and Colt said simultaneously. Zach added, “The goal here is to raise money for the school. That’s all Sarah will care about.”
“If you’re sure,” Hope said. “What do you suggest? We double the price? Fifty dollars?”
“Make it a hundred,” Lucca suggested. “It’s a good cause.”
Hope gaped at him. “A hundred dollars? You’d pay that?”
“Sure. How about the rest of you? Any cheapskates here?”
“I’m in,” Gabe added. “I know it’s in my best interest to contribute to the school. My girls will be starting here before I know it.”
“Never too early to suck up to the kindergarten teacher, right, Callahan?” Colt observed.
Gabe grinned without apology. “Absolutely.”
“Nic said that very same thing to me not too long ago,” Hope said with a laugh. She folded her arms and considered the idea, then said, “All right. Since you guys are ready to put your money where your mouths are, so to speak, we might as well take advantage of it. So, tickets will cost one hundred dollars, plus a pledge of ten volunteer hours at the school. I suspect this might get rowdy, so I don’t think it’s a good idea to do it in front of the children. Italian crème musical chairs at eight p.m. Okay?”
Gabi elbowed Lucca hard. “I am so going to win.”
“In your dreams, baby sister. In your dreams.”
The school bell rang, signaling the official start of the event, and the volunteers dispersed to man their booths. Lucca served his time in the arts and crafts room, and while he wouldn’t admit it aloud, he didn’t mind painting little kids’ faces, though he wondered if little boys had always been so enamored of fangs. Once his shift ended, he wandered around the building. When he spied a science classroom filled with dozens of mounted animals, he started to enter the room to investigate when a familiar sound attracted his attention.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Clang.
He’d found his way to the gym. Wouldn’t you know it?
For a long moment, he hesitated. He really should go into the science lab and take a close-up look at that stuffed bear. Instead, like a puppet on a string, he was pulled by the sound down the hallway toward the open double doors.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Clang.
He stopped just outside the gym doors, his heart pounding and a cold sweat trickling down his back. A tall, lanky teenage boy was playing half-court one-on-one with Lucca’s sister, and he appeared to be holding his own.
Watching Gabi, Lucca’s thoughts drifted back to his childhood and all the times he and his siblings had played ball in the backyard. Their dad had been an athlete and a hoops fan, and once he saw that his growing sons would have his height, he’d had a concrete court poured in their backyard. Lucca couldn’t guess how many nets they’d worn out over the years. Dad used to order them in bulk.
Gabi’s voice snagged his attention when she bounced the ball to the boy and called, “Check. Next basket wins.”
The boy threw the rock back to her and said, “Okay, show me what you got.”
She stood at the top of the key, her gaze focused on the boy. Lucca knew by her stance and by his knowledge of her game what she’d do next.
Sure enough, she faked a jump shot, and when the boy went for it, she drove to the bucket for a layup. Damned if the boy didn’t block the shot. Immediately, he took the ball outside the arc to the left of the basket and put up a jumper.
Nothing but net. The boy gleefully crowed “Game!”
Gabi groaned and said, “Two out of three.”
“No way. I’ll play ya PIG.”
Gabi laughed maniacally—PIG was her game—and the sound pierced Lucca’s heart as sure as an arrow. If he wasn’t a chicken, he would stride right into that gym and show his baby sister just who owned PIG.
But Lucca couldn’t make himself step on the gymnasium’s polished wood floor.
“That’s Wade Mitchell.”
Lucca glanced over his shoulder to see Hope standing behind him. He stepped to one side, and she moved forward.
“His father owns Storm Mountain Ranch. They’re an old Eternity Springs family, having owned that property for a hundred years.”
“The kid has game.”
“He only started playing recently. He didn’t get his growth spurt until his sophomore year. He’s a junior this year.”
Lucca’s gaze measured the boy. He had to be six foot two, and if he’d started growing late, he probably wasn’t done. “Looks like he spends time in the weight room.”
“We don’t have a weight room. Storm Mountain is a working ranch, and Wade has helped his dad all his life. Wade is the best player on our team.”
Lucca turned, putting his back toward the gym. He was done with the subject of basketball. “My mom told me you are in charge of this Fun Night event. How is it going? Are you going to meet your fund-raising goals?”
Her eyes went bright and caused Lucca to think about starshine. “We’re going to exceed them by a significant amount. Depending how many of you show up for musical chairs, it could be our best Fun Night ever.”
“Congratulations. Say, since you’re here, I’m curious about something. What’s with all the critters in the science classroom?”
“Critters? What … oh. Our mounted menagerie.”
Lucca blinked. “That sounds sorta kinky, Ms. Montgomery.”
“As far as I’m concerned, it’s downright creepy. But I will say, the kids love it.”
She explained how the collection had been donated to the school by a local taxidermist named Bear. “I never met him. He moved away before I moved to Eternity Springs, but apparently he was quite a character, an old-fashioned mountain man. It’s a lot of fun for me to witness the first look at the collection by our kindergartners. Their little eyes get so round and so big—pure wonder. We go to the science lab once a week, and they just love it. Of course, their favorites are the hockey mice. Have you seen them?”
“I didn’t go inside the classroom.”
“Follow me,” she said. “You have to see this.”
She led him into the science lab to a small desk in the back corner where a quartet of white mice decked out in full hockey gear stood upright on an ice rink model. “Okay, I get a hunter wanting to mount his ten-point elk so he can hang it on the wall of his man cave, and I admit I think mounted fish are cool,” said Lucca. “If I ever was lucky enough to catch a marlin, I’d consider having him stuffed. But hockey mice? That is weird.”
“The really weird stuff is in storage. He did some animal creation—wings of a hawk on the body of a rabbit. It’s disturbing.” Hope glanced up at the clock on the wall and said, “I need to finish my rounds if I’m going to get back in time for the big competition. Do you still plan to enter?”
“Oh, yes. I’ll definitely be there.”
“See you shortly, then.”
Lucca watched her leave, admiring the way her black slacks hugged that spectacular ass of hers. He liked Hope Montgomery. Sure, he found her physically appealing, but it was more than that. Her attitude was attractive, too. She was friendly and confident. She made the day a little brighter for everyone around her. She wasn’t ind
ifferent to him, either.
Maybe he didn’t need to be so guarded where she was concerned. So what if she was friends with Mom and Gabi? She was a single adult. He was a single adult. If they wanted to explore the attraction between them, well, that was their business, wasn’t it? He’d be honest up front and make it clear he wasn’t looking for anything long-term. Maybe she’d shoot him down. Or, maybe that arrangement would suit her just fine.
He wouldn’t know unless he asked.
Lucca shoved his hands into his pockets, shook his head one more time at the hockey-playing mice, and exited the science lab. His gaze drifted toward the gymnasium doorway and for a long moment, he hesitated. Then he blew out a heavy breath and muttered, “Screw it.”
Dad would have kicked his ass if he’d been around to see Lucca afraid to step foot on the hardwood.
He strode toward the gym and straight through the open doors. His sister stood near the basket holding the ball tucked beneath her arm as she spoke to the boy. She casually glanced up and when she identified him, her eyes rounded in surprise.
Lucca grinned and slapped the ball loose, caught it on the bounce, then drove toward the basket and went up for a dunk.
When his heels hit the floor, he smiled, winked at his sister, then walked back out of the gym calling, “It’s your day to lose, Gabriella.”
He headed for the kindergarten class, his step lighter than it had been in months. Having scored a bucket on one of his demons, he was ready for a game of musical chairs.
During her first month of teaching in Eternity Springs, Hope had scored an ancient phonograph and collection of children’s records at the Saint Stephen’s church rummage sale. The songs were familiar, tinny recordings of such classic, beloved tunes as “Old MacDonald” and “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad.” Hope had installed the machine in her classroom and once a week, usually after science lab, the kindergartners had an old-fashioned sing-along.
