by Emily March
“Of course,” she said seriously. But then she smiled and it made Lucca feel ten inch … ten feet tall. “Lucca?”
His gaze had focused on her mouth. “Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
Emotion welled up inside him. “Thank you, Hope. I am thankful for you. We’ll make this work. I promise. Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Happy Thanksgiving.”
SEVENTEEN
“Power is nothing without control,” Hope said as she walked away from the school bus parked on a track on the wide-open plain of west Texas. “That’s a lesson we can apply to many aspects of life.”
Lucca nodded. “I’ll need to use that one with the Grizzlies.”
“I’ve noticed you often use inspirational quotes with the team.”
“They listen to me. I love that about this team. Half the guys at Landry thought they were too good to listen to what I had to say. The more talent a kid has, the more potential, the more likely he is to fall into the believing-his-press camp. They go from being kids who play for the love of the game to egomaniacs.”
“How did you avoid that trap with your players?”
“I have a system. The players have to buy into my system. But the young and dumb ones do that, achieve success, then forget the system and think they did it all on their own. It’s frustrating. Certainly takes some of the fun out of the job for me.”
“I can understand why.”
Hope and Lucca had just finished a four-hour private driving lesson with Johnny Tarantino, a former NASCAR driver who now operated a high-performance driving school on a section of his family’s ranch in the middle of nowhere, Texas. While school buses weren’t ordinarily his ride of choice, Johnny had jumped at the challenge of sharing his expertise with Hope, going so far as to buy a bus for his school. Halfway through the lesson, he’d decided to create a safety course specifically for bus drivers. “It’s a great addition to my school,” he’d told them. “I’ll focus on training trainers. School districts will love it.”
She’d had to agree. While she hadn’t felt at risk behind the wheel prior to her lesson, the techniques she’d learned did give her a comforting increase in skill.
They climbed into the BMW Lucca had rented at the airport in El Paso and began the drive back to their B&B in Fort Davis. They discussed ranching and reading and rainbows as they drove, having made the decision at the beginning of the trip that the topic of the baby and the future was off-limits for the duration. This time was their breather, their chance to process the change in circumstances. It had proven to be exactly the medicine Hope had needed. Well, she’d needed this breather and Lucca’s support.
She hadn’t taken time to consider his possible reaction to her news before she’d shared it, but he’d convinced her from the first that she could count on him. That his claim didn’t surprise her amazed her. Deep down, when she wasn’t admitting the pregnancy even to herself, she’d known that she’d be able to count on him. Just exactly what their future held, she didn’t know. But her confidence that he stood with her took some of the pressure off of figuring it out right now.
Back at the bed and breakfast, he relaxed in front of a basketball game on TV while she took a nap. After that, she decided to soak in the tub for a bit, thinking she’d relax a little while longer before dressing for dinner.
Then Lucca joined her in the bath and, for the next half hour, all thought of relaxation went down the drain. His lovemaking was just as erotic and satisfying as ever, but he did it with a tenderness that touched her heart.
Their B&B hostess steered them to a surprisingly good German restaurant—not the sort of cuisine Hope had expected to find in west Texas—and after that, Lucca started on the drive to their second planned destination on their trip, McDonald Observatory. It was the first visit for both of them to the McDonald. Lucca was like a kid at Christmas.
“Orion rising,” he said as he parked the car in the observatory visitors’ lot. “Orion, the Hunter. It’s one of the easiest constellations to find. Look for his belt of three stars pointing almost straight up from the horizon. See the bright orange star to the left and a blue one to the right?”
Hope stepped from the car and gazed up at the starry sky. “I do.”
“The stars are Mintaka, Alnilam, and Alnitak. Mintaka is actually a double star. All four are bigger, brighter, and heavier than our sun.” Excitement hummed in his tone as he added, “You’re going to love this, Hope.”
“I’m sure I will.” If nothing else, watching him love it would make her evening.
The moonless night was pitch-dark and bitterly cold, and she loved every minute of it. It was a special event night for a membership group Lucca had joined. They participated in a “star party,” gazing at the heavens through an awesome pair of telescopes and listening to a guided tour of the night sky. Hope found the guide’s program informative, though it lacked the charm and romance of Lucca’s backyard lessons.
She told him as much at the end of the evening as they returned to the visitors’ center to use the facilities before making the drive back to Fort Davis. “You know what you should do,” she suggested. “Once Aspenglow Place is up and running, you could give star tours to your mother’s guests. Eternity Springs isn’t as dark as it is here, but it’s better than most places.”
“There’s a thought. It’d give me an excuse to score a powerful telescope.”
When Hope came out of the restroom, she wandered around a bit before finding Lucca standing mesmerized before a large framed image. She stood beside him. “It looks like twinkling lights on a Christmas tree.”
“Newborn stars shining through the wispy clouds of the Orion Nebula. You can see it without a telescope, a smudge of light below Orion’s Belt.”
“Yes. I remember the guide pointing it out.”
“It’s a nursery, Hope. A stellar nursery. The nebula has given birth to thousands of stars. Bright, brilliant babies.” He took her hand and brought it up to his mouth for a kiss. “Birth is a beautiful thing.”
His words and his actions stayed with her as she drifted off to sleep that night, and during their journey home on Sunday. Monday morning, she scheduled a doctor’s appointment for mid-December and ordered three books about pregnancy from an online bookseller. Hope was feeling optimistic about the future. She didn’t think she could ever have consciously made the choice to have a second child, but now that the proverbial barn door was open, the idea of having another chance seemed like an unacknowledged dream that could possibly come true.
As the days went on, Lucca inquired upon occasion if she was ready to talk about the future. He indicated that he was trying to give her space, though he seemed a little impatient that she had not yet answered yes. But she thought she might be getting closer. On a snowy Saturday afternoon in December with a couple of hours to kill before she needed to be at the gym for a Grizzlies home game, she added a log to the fire Lucca had built before he left to meet his friend James Preston, who had promised to attend the game to watch Wade play. James was a scout, and this was the big chance she’d been wanting for Wade. She said a little prayer that she would be the coach Wade needed and that he’d have a great game. Lifting a fireplace tool, she poked the log, positioning it just right.
“Just right,” she murmured, and her thoughts drifted to the previous night. It had been a lovely evening. She and Lucca had stayed in, played Scrabble, and laughed. He’d become a friend to her, and in doing so, made her realize how much she’d missed that component of a relationship. Lucca was her friend and her lover.
She loved him.
It was true. She finally could admit it. She thought she’d probably loved him for some time now. He was a good man. A caring man. A loving man.
Maybe she should tell him that she loved him. Maybe she could finally move forward. Be strong like Maggie. She would always love Holly—always search for her and hope and pray for her safe return. But maybe the time had come to appreciate this second chance she’d been giv
en. With Lucca. With their child.
As Roxy moved from her perch on the third step of the staircase over to her bed in front of the fire, Hope looked toward the manila envelope that had been lying on her desk for more than a week. “Maybe it’s time, girl,” Hope said aloud.
She opened the envelope, removed one of the pregnancy books, and began to read. Fifteen minutes later, lost in information she’d forgotten over the past ten years, she heard the doorbell ring only because Roxy caught her attention with a yip.
Expecting it to be Lucca she called, “Come in.”
The door opened and her welcoming smile died when a man stepped inside: tall, lithe, blond, and still handsome despite his hard, accusing blue eyes and thin-lipped grim smile. “Mark.”
“Hello, Hope.”
Shock quickly flared into anger. How dare he. How dare he! She set down her book and rose to her feet as he continued, “You don’t mind if I look around a bit, do you?”
“Yes!” she snapped. “I do mind. I’ve had enough, Mark. This is ridiculous. It has to stop. I want you to leave.”
“After I take a look around,” he said, moving toward the staircase.
This was wrong. So wrong. After all these years, he still thought she was hiding their child. Like she could hurt Holly that way. Fury roared through Hope, and she moved to block him. “She’s not here, Mark. You know that.”
He looked at her with Holly’s eyes, miserable and filled with despair. Oh, Mark. She’d loved him once. How could it have come to this?
Still a big man, he easily shoved her out of the way and barreled his way upstairs. Unable to stop him, she stood at the foot of the staircase and fumed. In the small house, it took him little time at all to search, but it did give her time to think. When he came downstairs, she’d returned to her position in front of the fire. She said, “Mark, this will be the last time. I will not allow you to do this again. The sheriff here is a friend of mine. I am going to take out a restraining order on you. I’ll go to the press. I know you have political aspirations. You don’t want the press.”
His jaw was set, his eyes hard and a little wild. So angry. After all these years, he’s still so angry. “What, are you spying on me? Do you think I stole Holly and hid her away?”
She closed her eyes for a moment and tempered her own reaction. “You’re in the paper a lot. You were my husband. I’m interested.”
Once, she had loved this man. Once, he’d been someone she admired, kind and funny and romantic. His chosen career had taken a toll on their marriage. Maybe they wouldn’t have made it through the tough times, anyway. Who knows? But Mark Montgomery wasn’t a bad man. He’d loved his daughter. He mourned the loss of her, too.
But, according to what I read in the newspaper, he hasn’t moved forward. What does it say about me that I have and he hasn’t? Does that make him a better father than I am a mother, or is he just not as emotionally healthy?
Well, he does have his mother to contend with. Maybe he needs to move to Eternity Springs, too.
Weariness overcame Hope. She was tired of fighting him. She felt sorry for him. He needed to heal. “Mark, barging in on me this way doesn’t do either of us any good. It’s not healthy behavior. It’s been five years. You know I’m not hiding Holly away from you—that I didn’t execute some elaborate plot to destroy our family. You know in your heart that coming here like this is crazy. Why do you do it, Mark?”
“I’m not crazy!” he fired back, his blue eyes flashing. Holly had blue eyes, her father’s eyes. She’d had his smile, too. Hope couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen Mark genuinely smile. He paced the room, shoving his fingers through his hair. “I’m a father and I don’t know where my daughter is!”
“And it’s horrible.”
“It’s horrible for me. I don’t know about you. You don’t even have her picture out. I need to find her, Hope. I’m her father and I need to find her! That doesn’t go away.”
The pain, the heartache in his voice reached inside Hope and stirred the embers of the love she’d once felt for him. He was devastated, still, as was she. The wound would never heal. “No, it doesn’t. It’s horrible,” she repeated quietly. “The absolute most horrible thing in the world. I know. I do know, better than anybody.”
“I hate you. It’s your fault,” he said, his voice dead calm with fury.
“I know.”
“You did this to me. To us. To her! You just couldn’t wait for me to …” He paused, his speech trembling. “Come home … from work. I try to fall asleep at night, and the images … The things I hear on the news. All the ugliness in the world that happens to little kids. To know that she’s out there, somewhere … it’s killing me. God only knows what has happened to her. What monster or pervert has touched her, hurt her. All because you left my child with a stranger.”
At the horror and devastation in his voice, she swallowed hard. “I know it’s my fault, Mark. Believe me, I live with it every day. And I know you hate me for causing you this pain.”
He closed his eyes and held his head in his hands. “I don’t really hate you, Hope. Oh, and I’ve tried. It would be a lot easier if I did.”
Hearing him say this wounded her more than the words of hate.
“I don’t know why. Maybe because you’re Holly’s mother. Maybe that’s why I came here. To see you, because I can’t see her. To try and hate you for destroying us. Our family. But I can’t … I’m in the same limbo as you. I just want to know what happened to her.”
And this tore Hope up. Because once upon a time, she had loved him so very much. She attempted to reach him, to show him the compassion she felt. “I do, too. But we have to accept that we may never know. It’s been five years. We will never forget her, but maybe it’s time to let go, to move on.”
“To give up?” He looked at her in shock that quickly transformed to fury again. “I’m not ever going to give up, damn you. I’ll search for her until I’m dead. I’m different from you. You and your cozy little life here. I’m never giving up on our daughter!”
“I’m not saying we should give up,” she fired back. “I will never stop looking for Holly and praying that we find her, but there’s a difference between giving up and moving forward. It’s time to move forward, Mark. Whatever the thought processes are that led you to travel from Florida to Colorado in order to spend two minutes searching my home for a child who you know isn’t here need to change.”
He momentarily closed his eyes, and the hands at his sides fisted. When he looked at her again, the light had gone from angry to stark. “I miss her.”
Her heart twisting, Hope took a step toward him. “I know, Mark. But this sort of thing … it’s not good. I think you need to …”
Hope’s voice trailed off when she saw him look past her, his eyes widening in shock, his jaw dropping open in surprise. What in the … oh. Oh, no.
He stared at the book she’d left lying on the table beside her rocker. The title You’re Pregnant, Now What? all but jumped off the cover. His voice returned to dead calm as he asked, “What the hell is that?”
“Mark—”
“What the hell is that?” he repeated, his complexion pale as he pointed at the book. “Are you pregnant?”
Before she could respond, he accused, “My God, Hope. Are you having another baby?”
Might as well do this. “Yes, I am.”
“Who’s the father? Are you remarried?”
She straightened her backbone. “We’re divorced, Mark. It’s not your business.”
He looked at her hand. “Guess not, you’re not wearing a ring. You’re still Ms. Montgomery at the school. I checked.” His expression turned malevolent. “Did it again, did you? Got yourself knocked up so some poor sap will have to marry you. Well, well, well … always resourceful, weren’t you? Mom said you’d do it again once you had the chance. Honestly, I really didn’t think you would. I never imagined you’d have the unmitigated nerve to have another child. You certainly don’t deserve on
e.”
That stole her breath away, and Hope reached out to grab the back of a chair to steady herself.
Mark picked up the book. “I remember you reading these when you were pregnant with Holly. Funny, you must have missed the chapter about giving your child to strangers.” He tossed the book to the floor.
“This man of yours. Does he know what you did? Does he know how irresponsible you are? Does he—” A rap on the door interrupted him, then the door opened and Lucca stepped inside carrying a bag of groceries.
“Hey, beautiful. Guess what they had at the Trading Post this—” Lucca caught sight of Mark and stopped abruptly. “Um, hello.”
“So, it’s you? You’re the guy?” Mark rounded on Lucca, his color high.
“Hope?” Lucca’s gaze shifted from Mark to Hope. “Is there a problem here?”
“Oh, yeah. I’d say there’s a problem. You’re the one with the problem, though. My wife is your child’s mother. That’s about as big a problem as it gets.”
“Wife?” Lucca’s expression went blank. “You’re Montgomery?”
His voice scathing, Mark said, “Do you know what she did? I bet she hasn’t told you, has she? About how careless she is? About how she put her vanity ahead of our family? How she left our child with a criminal so she could go get her roots done?”
“Mark, please,” Hope said.
“She’ll destroy you, you know. Just like she destroyed me. She trapped me into marriage, and then she stabbed me in the heart. She did it to me, and she’ll do it to you. That’s what she does.” He turned a malice-filled stare upon her. “Is this your replacement for Holly? Is this how you … how did you say it? ‘Move forward’? You don’t deserve a second chance.”
