by Emily March
“Are you speaking as Lucca’s mother or my friend?”
“It’s a fine line I walk, I’ll give you that. Luckily, what’s best for your child is what’s best for mine.”
A rap on the door preceded a technician’s entry into the room pushing a machine. “I need you to step outside for a few minutes, ma’am,” she said to Maggie.
“I need to scoot on, anyway. I need to check on Tony.” Maggie rose from the bed, then leaned down and kissed Hope on the forehead. “Sleep well, sweetheart. And don’t despair. Things will look better in the morning.”
“I won’t change my mind, Maggie,” Hope warned.
Maggie waved a hand. “I’m not worried. You’ll do what’s best for my grandbaby. You’re a good mother, Hope. Sleep well.”
Maggie kept the smile on her face until she exited the room. Once she was alone, her smile faded. After hearing the thread of steel in Hope’s voice, she wasn’t nearly as confident as she let on.
Lucca might well be in for a bigger fight than she had realized.
NINETEEN
Christmas Eve dawned bright and sunny, but by noon, clouds had moved in, and snow flurried in the crisp winter air. Hope sat on her living room floor surrounded by gift-wrapping paper, ribbon, boxes, and tape. Ordinarily, she enjoyed this particular holiday chore. This year, she wished she’d gone for gift cards.
She wished she’d booked a Christmas trip on a cruise ship or to a beach somewhere, but when she’d accepted Celeste’s invitation to a Christmas Eve gathering at Angel’s Rest, she had been looking forward to spending the holidays in Eternity Springs. Actually, she’d been looking forward to Christmas in Eternity Springs right up until the accident the week before. Since then, Hope had fantasized at least once a day about running away from home for the holidays.
She hadn’t exchanged more than a dozen words with Lucca since she’d thrown him out of her hospital room. At practice and the previous day’s game, however, he’d communicated plenty with the angry glares he occasionally shot her way. She had to admit that she’d expected him to argue with her about her decision. The fact that he hadn’t fought it convinced her that he agreed that she’d made the right decision. He didn’t love her, not really. He’d marry her for no other reason than the baby. Just like Mark. And she’d probably destroy Lucca, too.
Just like Mark.
Hope worked her way through her gifts until she had only one left to wrap—Lucca’s. She opened the box and looked at the coach’s whistle that Sage Rafferty had designed at Hope’s request. She stroked her thumb across the engraving—POWER IS NOTHING WITHOUT CONTROL—then returned it to its box. She’d been so excited to give it to him. Now, it was different. She was different.
You’re scared.
“To the bone. So what else is new?” she grumbled, then chose red foil to wrap his package. How could she give it to him, though? How could she go through these holiday motions when what she really wanted to do was run? Why was she going to the gathering at Celeste’s, anyway? Why was she putting herself through this?
With the last of her gifts wrapped and ready, she donned a red wool dress, black tights, and boots for the evening. She seldom wore dresses in the winter here, but she’d been raised to wear a dress to church on Christmas, so that’s what she did. She loaded her car with her gifts and the appetizers and side dishes that were her contribution to the meal and made the short drive to Cavanaugh House on the grounds of Angel’s Rest.
Celeste was a vision in gold and white when she welcomed Hope into her home. “The house is lovely, Celeste,” she said. “I haven’t been here since you decorated for the holidays.”
“Thank you, sugar. I’m just like a little kid when it comes to Christmas and I love, love, love to display my angel collection.”
Display she did, Hope discovered as she toured the house. She wondered how many man-hours Celeste had invested in tastefully positioning angels everywhere one looked.
Hope finished placing her gifts beneath a lovely live tree in the parlor as a large group of visitors arrived. The Murphys, the Callahans, and the Raffertys filled the room with excited, chattering preschoolers, bright-eyed toddlers, and infants dressed like elves. “Saint Stephen’s added a late afternoon children’s service this year,” Nic explained. “We’re on our way home from there, so the excitement level is really ramped up.”
Hope sat on a chair ottoman to speak to the Callahan twins. “What is Santa bringing you tonight?”
“We each get a big present, a little present, and a surprise,” Cari Callahan said.
Her twin, Meg, added, “I asked for a sled and a new stuffed puppy.”
Cari rolled her eyes. “Daddy said we don’t have any room in our bedroom for more stuffed puppies, but Mommy just laughed and told him he was being silly. She tells him that a lot.”
“She likes stuffed animals as much as me,” Meg added. “When we start school next year and you are our teacher, can I bring a puppy backpack?”
“Absolutely,” Hope said. “I love puppy backpacks, and I can’t wait to have you two in my class.”
As the precocious little girls continued to talk, Hope sensed the attention of a newcomer. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Lucca standing out in the hallway sipping eggnog from a punch cup and watching her with unreadable eyes.
Her throat tightened, but she turned her attention back to the Callahan twins and enjoyed a story about their father’s aging boxer, Clarence. Soon, Jack Davenport wandered into the room, his little Johnny in his arms. Still under a year old, Johnny Davenport sported a darling reindeer outfit, and bright eyes as big as saucers. He pointed toward the Christmas tree and said, “Da Da Da Da.”
“He’s is such a little doll, Jack,” Hope said.
“He’s such a little anvil,” Jack replied. “I’ll be glad when he starts walking. I don’t know why his twenty pounds is heavier than twenty pounds of weights.”
Hope hesitated. Could she do this? Of course you can do this. This is what you do. How you cope. “Let me hold him and give your back a rest, big guy.”
“Gladly! I noticed Sarah set out a cookie tray on the dining room table. Mind if I pawn him off on you long enough to score some pinwheels before they’re all gone?”
“Not if you promise to bring me one.”
“I’ll bring you two,” Jack promised, handing over his son.
Hope talked softly to the boy, who babbled back, pointing toward decorations on the tree. He smelled like baby powder and Cheerios, and Hope drew in the heavenly scent and tried not to notice that her heart was shattering into little pieces. When she walked Johnny over to the fireplace mantel where an animated angel figurine choir played carol bells, she again caught sight of Lucca standing in the hallway, this time eating the meatball appetizer she’d brought. His gaze remained focused on her.
Cat Davenport found her a few moments later and repossessed Johnny. Hope wandered toward the dining room, thinking she’d try a cup of the hot spiced cider whose aroma drifted on the air. But as she passed the music room, she spied Cam Murphy sitting in a chair and digging in the diaper bag, trying to comfort a fussy Michael at the same time.
“Here, let me help,” Hope said, scooping Michael from his father’s arms. Was it strength or self-punishment that caused her to interact with these babies? She wasn’t certain.
“Thank you,” Cam said, lifting the diaper bag into his lap. “I swear, Sarah carries everything but the kitchen sink in here.”
Hope rocked the fussing baby and patted his back until Cam pulled a bottle from the bag with a victorious “Yes!”
“Mind if I give him his bottle?” Hope asked.
“I’d love it.” Cam shot to his feet, then motioned for her to take a seat. Once she settled in, he handed her the bottle and said, “Can I bring you anything?”
Not hot cider since she was feeding the baby. She smiled up at him. “I’d love a glass of water.”
“Be right back.”
Hope settled back into the c
hair and discovered that it was a rocker. She offered the bottle to Michael and smiled tenderly down at him when he latched onto the nipple as if he’d not eaten in a week. She tried not to remember the sensation of Holly at her breast, forcing herself not to picture the same with the baby she carried within her. Cam returned with her water and asked if she needed anything else. When she assured him she was fine, he made excuses to raid the dining table.
After a few minutes, she gently tugged the bottle from Michael’s mouth and lifted him to her shoulder. She gently patted his back, listening for the burp. Rewarded, she cradled him again and offered the bottle once more, murmuring sweet encouragement all the while.
Upon feeling Lucca’s stare yet again, she looked up, lifted her chin, and challenged him to do something more than stare. “Merry Christmas, Lucca.”
“No, I can’t say that it is.” He turned and walked away.
Hope clutched little Michael Murphy a little tighter and blinked back tears. “I will not cry,” she whispered to him. “It’s Christmas.”
Anger and frustration heated Lucca’s blood, so he stepped outside into the winter air in an attempt to cool off and find his Christmas peace and joy. He gripped the wooden porch railing with bare hands and gazed out at the snow-covered grounds of Angel’s Rest. His breath fogged as he released a heavy sigh. Hope Montgomery made him crazy.
He heard the door open behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder. He wasn’t surprised to see his twin attempting to maneuver through the doorway on his crutches. Tony undoubtedly sensed his turmoil.
“Hold on a minute,” Lucca said, moving toward him. “Let me get the door.”
After Tony crossed the threshold, he tossed Lucca the jacket he’d draped over one crutch. “Do us both a favor and put this on before Mom sees you.”
Lucca’s mouth twisted, but he did as his brother asked and then returned to his spot at the railing. Tony hobbled across the porch and stood beside him. “So, do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
“Yeah, but later. Not here.”
Tony nodded. “It’s obvious that you have a beef of some sort with Hope, so I’m offering a distraction. I have a favor to ask you, bro. A big one.”
“Oh?” The prospect of having something to think about other than the situation with Hope pleased him. “Okay, ask it.”
“The doctors tell me I’m not gonna heal on my own this time around. I need to have surgery.”
Lucca grimaced. “Dammit, Tony. I’m sorry. I feel responsible.”
“Good. Because I need your help. My doctor has an opening in his schedule later this week, but our team leaves for New York the day after tomorrow. My head assistant coach is out with the chicken pox, of all things. He caught it from his kindergartener. So …” He met Lucca’s gaze. “I need you to fill in for me at the Holiday Classic.”
Lucca’s heart thudded. His mouth went dry. “Coach? You want me to coach?”
“It’s an important tournament. You know my system. I need you.”
Return to collegiate coaching? Lucca’s first reaction was to refuse out of hand, but even as the words formed on his tongue, he hesitated, and his thoughts went to Hope.
How could he argue against her allowing fear to rule her life when he was guilty of the same offense?
He couldn’t. He had to do this. For the sake of his child and his child’s mother. For the sake of the family he wanted, he needed to defeat this particular fear. He sucked in a deep breath, filling his lungs with freezing air, then exhaled in a rush. “Okay. Yes. I’ll do it. I’ll coach the Holiday Classic in your place.”
Tony’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Excellent,” he said, his smile wide. “I’m so glad. That’s the best gift ever.”
“So I can take back the one I put under Mom’s tree for you?”
“Hell, no.”
Lucca laughed, feeling as if a great weight had been released from his shoulders. “Let’s go inside. I’m freezing, and, besides, Mom is peering through the curtains at us.”
“She’s probably ready to go home so she can start cooking our Christmas Eve feast. Did you see the size of that tenderloin roast she bought?”
“You mean the cow that’s in the refrigerator?” Lucca joked.
The brothers went inside, and soon the entire family prepared to take their leave. His mood having mellowed, Lucca looked around for Hope, thinking to improve upon his earlier response to her Merry Christmas wish, but Sarah Murphy told him she’d left through the back door while he’d been on the front porch with Tony. Telling himself that he’d catch up with her later, he turned his attention to his family, determined to enjoy the occasion.
The traditional Romano family Christmas meant opening gifts prior to midnight mass on Christmas Eve. This year, following a feast where Zach and Max arm wrestled for the last slice of roast and their mother actually rationed the Italian crème cake, the family congregated downstairs and waited for Maggie to finish a phone call with her sisters. Christmas music played softly in the background, and conversation between the siblings was easy. Richard Steele was in Denver with his family for the Christmas holidays, and Lucca had to admit he was glad. While he and his siblings were growing accustomed to the idea of the new man in their mother’s life, he was glad to have another year before they’d need to expand their traditions.
Including a baby would be an easier adjustment. His mother had been preaching about wanting grandchildren for years, and he knew how excited she was at the thought.
“Hey, you,” Gabriella said, coming up beside him. “You okay? You’ve been awfully quiet tonight.”
“I have a lot on my mind.”
“It’s Hope, isn’t it? You had a fight? You two hardly spoke to one another at Angel’s Rest. Honestly, I expected you to invite her to be here and go to church with us tonight.”
“We’re having … issues.”
“What sort of issues?”
He set his mouth and shook his head. “This isn’t the time for it. It’s Christmas Eve and I haven’t even tried to guess your present yet.”
He started toward the tree to begin the time-honored tradition of lifting the box marked to him from Gabi to shake, sniff, and study in his effort to figure out its contents. Soon, Gabi’s smart-aleck responses to his questions had him laughing, and when his mother entered the room a few minutes later and asked Zach to play Santa and pass out gifts, Lucca was overwhelmed by a warm rush of love for his family.
Max and Tony sat bickering over which songs should be included in a top-ten-rock-songs-in-history list. Savannah teased his mother about one of the gifts Richard had given her before he left that, apparently, his mom honestly loved. If Dad had given Mom an electric broom, she wouldn’t have spoken to him until Easter. Zach was giving Gabi a hard time about her handwriting on the gift tags, and his sister fired back about chicken scratching on sheriff’s department reports.
How incredibly lucky he was.
And how incredibly sad that Hope sat home alone with only Roxy for company.
The last of the anger and hurt that Lucca had nursed for the past week melted away, overwhelmed by a heart filled with love. Celeste had advised him to be patient and to listen to his instincts. Why had he forgotten that?
“Lucca?”
The sound of his name snapped him back to attention. Zach stood in front of him, a stack of gifts in his arms. “Oh, sorry.”
As his brother handed over Lucca’s gifts, he noticed the medal hanging on a chain around Zach’s neck. Savannah wore one like it. He realized he’d seen a similar necklace on a number of people in Eternity Springs.
As Zach returned to the tree to gather another stack of gifts to give out, Lucca turned to his sister-in-law seated beside him. “What’s the deal with the necklaces you guys wear? The wings?”
Savannah’s hand lifted to touch her pendant. “Celeste gave them to us. She calls it the official Angel’s Rest blazon. Sage Rafferty designed it and Celeste awards it to those she deems have embrace
d healing’s grace. Earning it has become a bit of a big deal here in town. She only gives it after a person overcomes a significant emotional wound.”
“Really?”
“I’m very proud to wear mine. It reminds me of how far I’ve come and how blessed I am. On days when I’m a little down or something bothers me, I can touch it and remind myself that I am strong and have the ability to overcome.”
“Really?” he repeated.
A ghost of a thought formed on the edges of his consciousness, but before he could wrestle it into form, Zach distracted him by saying, “Okay, I have two gifts left to pass out. One doesn’t have a tag at all and the other says … to Fig from Nana?”
The unmarked gift was Lucca’s for Hope that he’d forgotten to remove from the bag of gifts he’d brought over to his mom’s place. The fig … well … that must be his, too. He knew from his own reading that at eleven weeks, the baby was the size of a fig. He looked at his mother who gave him a sheepish grin. “It’s a happy thing. We’re all together and I can’t keep a secret like this for long.”
“I should have expected it, I guess.” He shrugged and shared the news with his family. “Hope is pregnant.”
They reacted with a loving combination of joy and concern, aware that he had problems with his relationship with Hope. “She’s afraid and considering her situation, that’s understandable. She needs to be convinced that she’s brave enough to tackle motherhood again.”
“Again?” Gabi asked.
Lucca hesitated. This wasn’t his story to tell, but she’d already shared the facts with his mother and, besides, he wanted to enlist their help. But before he launched into an explanation, the doorbell rang. Maggie answered it and Celeste Blessing stepped inside. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Maggie, you left your handbag at Angel’s Rest, and when I opened it to determine to whom it belonged, I saw you had your church offering envelope inside, so I thought I’d drop it off so you’d have it tonight.”
“Thank you, Celeste. I’m so scatterbrained sometimes. I didn’t realize I’d walked off without it. Come in and join us, please. Have a cup of cider.”
