Miracle Road es-7

by Emily March

  “You will, Gabs. I have faith in that.”

  “I love you, brother.”

  “Love you, too, Gabriella.”

  Lucca smiled as he made his way to the locker room where his team awaited. Tomorrow was New Year’s Eve and, while he couldn’t quite believe it himself, he felt down right positive about the coming year.

  Upon entering the locker room, he turned his attention to the matter at hand. “Gather round, gentlemen. We are going to talk for few minutes about the way of the hardwood warrior.”

  The first half of the semifinal game proved to be a barn burner with their opponents taking a two-point lead into the locker room. Lucca consulted with Tony’s assistant coaches and made some adjustments to the game plan, then took them out onto the court for warm-ups early.

  He stood at courtside, his arms folded, watching his twin brother’s players practice layups and jump shots and enjoying the moment. This was Madison Square Garden, after all, a mecca of the sporting world and the scene of one of his best games as a pro player. He loved the atmosphere, the energy. The sights and the smells. He loved the competition. He loved the game itself.

  But he didn’t necessarily love it anymore in the Garden than he did in the Eternity Springs gymnasium. Nor did he yearn for the hustle and bustle of big-city living over the slow, laid-back pace of small-town life.

  He yearned for Hope and a home with their child and a job helping high school students grow and learn the important life lessons that competing on the hardwood has to teach.

  He yearned for Eternity Springs.

  “All right, men,” he murmured. “Let’s win this thing so I can go home where I belong.”

  Life lessons and basketball. A man is never too old to learn.

  He watched Tony’s star power forward sink a shot from midcourt as a stir in the crowd gradually caught his notice. Then he heard the point guard say, “There’s another one. She’s older than the usual coeds, though. Hot, too. You might want to consider this one, Coach.”

  “Excuse me?”

  The player pointed up toward the huge scoreboard suspended from the ceiling above midcourt. First, Lucca read the ribbon graphic across the bottom that announced FAN CAM. Then he noticed that the camera had focused a close-up on a sign that read COACH ROMANO, WILL YOU MARRY ME?

  He shrugged it off. It wasn’t the first marriage proposal sign he’d seen in the stands. It usually happened three or four times a season. College coeds were embarrassingly forward these days. Just as he was about to lower his gaze back to the court, the camera lens zoomed out and Lucca got his first look at the “coed” holding the sign.

  He froze. Zoned out. Got swept away by a cyclone to the land not at the foot of the Yellow Brick Road, but smack-dab in the middle of his very own Miracle Road.

  Here, caught on the Fan Cam, holding a sign asking him to marry her, stood his Hope.

  Joy as fierce as any emotion he’d ever known pulsed through him. Pulling his gaze away from the scoreboard, he frantically looked around. He had to find her. The Garden was a huge arena, packed with people. How could he find her?

  Cameras. Look for the cameras. There. Second row behind the home bench.

  He took a step toward her, then another, and then Coach Lucca Romano started running. Like the graceful, powerful athlete of old, he hurdled the bench, then grabbed the railing and vaulted over it into the stands. Then, Hope, his wonderful, glorious Hope, was in his arms, and he was kissing her, deeply, thoroughly, and passionately.

  Her hands lifted and her fingers laced behind his neck. She melted against him, and Lucca knew he’d found home. He lost track of everything but her. When he finally released her mouth and began pressing kisses across her cheeks, her eyes, her temples, he realized she was repeating those sweet words he’d longed to hear. “I love you, Lucca. I love you, Lucca. I love you, Lucca.”

  He looked down into her eyes through his own tear-misted gaze. “I love you, too, Hope. Dear Lord above, I love you, too.”

  Only then did he once again become aware of his surroundings as the sound of catcalls and applause filtered through his brain.

  He looked up, saw that the arena cameras were still focused on him and Hope, and he gave the crowd what they wanted.

  He flashed a thumbs-up and grinned. “I said yes.”

  He thought they might have heard the answering roar of the crowd all the way out in Eternity Springs.

  January 4th

  Daniel Garrett walked into his Boston office with springtime on his mind. News had broken that morning that the Red Sox had traded for a pitcher from Texas who would add depth and a spark to their rotation. The addition excited Daniel. New pitching was a shot in the arm to a ball club that always gave a fan hope. Hope was one of life’s great gifts. “Wish there was more of it in my world.”

  His office phone rang, and with his mind still on the American League, he picked it up.

  “Hello.”

  “May I please speak with Mr. Daniel Garrett?” a hesitant voice said.

  Twenty minutes later, he was in a cab on his way to the airport. He figured he should be in time to catch the twelve-fifteen flight to Dallas/Fort Worth. Barring any travel delays, he would make it to the gymnasium before the game ended. “Basketball,” he murmured. “Unreal.”

  While he rode, Daniel worked the phone, calling in favors and collecting on promises. The fact that he was going to a large city in Texas worked in his favor, and by the time he walked into the terminal at Logan, he had the lab and technicians he needed on standby.

  When he arrived at the gym at the wellness center of the suburban Fort Worth church, eight minutes remained in the girls’ basketball game.

  Daniel’s heart pounded. His mouth was dry and his palms were wet. He stepped into the gymnasium and surveyed the players.

  He saw her. He knew her. He didn’t need fingerprints or DNA, although, of course, he would follow through with them.

  “Mr. Garrett?”

  He looked around to see a Hispanic woman who appeared to be in her forties. “Yes, I am Daniel Garrett.”

  The woman’s gaze went to the court. “I am Jacinta Guerrero, Amanda’s aunt.”

  “Thank you for calling me, Mrs. Guerrero.”

  She released a long, heavy sigh. “After Amanda showed this to me, I could do nothing else.” She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a familiar neon pink paper folded into quarters. She opened it, handed it to Daniel, and said, “Look at her. It is obvious. The age progression photograph is amazingly close.”

  Daniel didn’t need to look at the photos on the flyer. He knew them by heart.

  Just as he knew that little number six playing guard on the basketball court was Holly Montgomery.

  “Here, Gabi, catch.” Lucca dropped the empty plastic ornament box through the opening in the attic floor at Aspenglow Place.

  “Jeez, Lucca,” his sister called. “That almost hit me right on the head.”

  “Reflexes, sis. Work on ’em.”

  “‘Work on ’em,’” Gabi repeated, a sneer in her voice. “Come down out of the attic, brother, and I’ll show you reflexes.”

  Hope laughed. “Would you two try to get along, please?”

  Lucca descended the attic stairs carrying two more boxes. “That takes all the fun out of it, Hope.”

  “He’s right,” Gabi agreed. “Bickering helps us battle through the boredom and physical misery.”

  Hope arched her eyebrows. “‘Physical misery’? Of taking down the Christmas decorations? Don’t you think that’s a bit of an exaggeration?”

  “Hah!” Gabi looked at her brother. “Obviously, she hasn’t experienced the traditional Romano family joy of untrimming a natural tree on Epiphany.”

  “It’s like dancing with a porcupine,” Lucca explained. “Pure misery. Every year, Dad tried to convince Mom that this was one tradition we could forgo. Every year, she shut him down.”

  Hope glanced from Lucca to Gabi, then back to Lucca again. “Okay,
I know I’m a little dense, but your mother is in Florida visiting her sisters. She hasn’t been here for over a week. If this bothers you, why didn’t you take the tree down a week ago?”

  “And break tradition?” Gabi scoffed. “We couldn’t do that.”

  Hope sighed. “I can tell already that I’m going to have trouble keeping track of all the Romano family traditions.”

  “No, you won’t,” Gabi said. “I’ve decided to embroider them on a wall hanging to give you for a wedding gift.”

  Lucca snorted. “Wonderful. You sew as good as you cook, Gabriella.”

  “Bite me.”

  “I could. I expect you taste better than your meat loaf.”

  “Oh stop it,” Hope said, grinning at the sibling banter. Of course, she grinned at just about everything these days. She hadn’t stopped grinning since she’d left Madison Square Garden engaged to be married.

  It had been a whirlwind few days. They’d returned from New York in time for a New Year’s Eve party that quickly evolved into an engagement celebration. On New Year’s Day, while the Romano men watched football on television, the Romano women got serious about wedding plans. After studying both high school and collegiate basketball schedules and consulting with Hope’s principal regarding time off for a honeymoon, Hope and Lucca set the wedding date for February 14. Maggie had assured her that empire waists were making a comeback in wedding gowns this year.

  Hope had even been strong enough to reach out to Mark. On New Year’s afternoon, with her Angel’s Rest pendant held tightly in her grip, she’d placed a call to her ex-husband.

  When he didn’t answer, she left a voice mail. “Hi Mark. It’s Hope. I know your first question would be about Holly, so no, I’m not calling with any news. I’m calling because I wanted to … well … I want to wish you a Happy New Year. I mean it, Mark. I hope that this new year brings you happiness and, most of all, peace.”

  Five minutes later, her phone rang. Mark. Her heartbeat thudding, she answered it. “Hello, Mark.”

  “I got your message. I’m glad you called.”

  “You are?”

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve thought a lot about my trip to Colorado, about the things I said. I was an ass. I’m sorry.”

  Hope was shocked. She couldn’t remember the last time Mark had apologized for anything, and she didn’t know how to respond. Finally, she simply said, “Thank you.”

  A moment of awkward silence followed, then Mark said, “I saw you on television. I guess congratulations are in order, too.”

  Her heart twisted. He sounded a little lost and lonely, and compassion filled her. “Remember how Holly woke up excited to meet the day? She taught me what a joyous heart looks like. I’m going to try to live my life with joy. That honors her, I think.”

  His voice sounded gruff when he replied, “That’s nice, Hope.”

  She licked her lips, then added, “I wish that you could be happy, too, Mark. This may sound silly to you, but I wish you’d spend some time in Eternity Springs. There is something about this town. People come here and find peace.”

  He released a long sigh. “After I left your house last time, my rental car had engine trouble. I was stalled beside the road waiting for the auto service to arrive, and an older woman riding a motorcycle stopped to offer help.”

  “Celeste Blessing?”

  “Yes. Once she figured out who I was, she said something similar to me about Eternity Springs. Then, she invited me to stay in a little cabin on the Angel’s Rest property. I stayed two nights.”

  “You did! I didn’t know that.”

  “I’m thinking I might come back sometime. That is, if you don’t mind. If your basketball coach doesn’t mind.”

  “I think that would be wonderful, Mark.”

  The doorbell sounded, jerking Hope out of her daydreams. “I’ll get it,” Lucca said, heading for the front of the house. “You girls get started on the ornaments.”

  “Make it quick, brother,” Gabi warned. Then, once Lucca was out of earshot, she asked, “So, back to your trip to Tiffany’s. Did he just say ‘Pick out the ring you want,’ or what?”

  Hope glanced down at the sparkler on her finger. “He was so romantic. He said—”

  Lucca interrupted. “Hope? Please come here.”

  She and Gabi shared a look. “That sounds serious,” Hope’s sister-to-be observed.

  Hope shrugged and walked out of the family room, headed for the front door. Her gaze landed on Lucca, and the stunned expression on his face slowed her steps. “Honey, is something wrong?”

  “No, darling. Something is right. Very, very right.” He backed away from the door, and Hope caught her first glimpse of the figure standing outside on the porch. “Daniel?”

  “Hello, Hope.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  His lips twisted into a crooked smile. “It’s the Twelfth Day of Christmas. I understand Romano took care of the golden ring thing and I can’t abide drumming drummers, so I figured I’d give you something else. You know what they say about miracles, don’t you? Better late than never.”

  Miracle? Roaring started in her ears. Her stomach dropped. Her heart pounded, and her mouth went dry. “Miracle?”

  “I got a phone call yesterday from a woman in Texas named Jacinta Guerrero. Nine months ago, her sister died of pancreatic cancer and left her daughter, Amanda, in her care.”

  “Amanda.” Hope swallowed hard.

  “Jacinta hadn’t seen her sister Maria in eight years, but she took Amanda in and made her part of the family. They’re undocumented, so this didn’t go through a system of any kind.”

  Lucca moved to stand behind Hope, silently offering his support.

  Daniel continued, “Jacinta packed away what few possessions her sister left behind, but she gave Amanda Maria’s bible. That was her real name. Maria Aguilera. Around Thanksgiving, Amanda found this while flipping through her bible.”

  Daniel held out a flyer Hope recognized. She accepted it with trembling fingers.

  “Hope, you do know that your proposal to Lucca was the feel-good story of the week, don’t you?” Daniel asked. “It was shown repeatedly on ESPN and local sportscasts, made the front page of Yahoo!, and was a trending topic on Twitter.”

  Hope nodded. “Gabi told me we’d gone viral.”

  “Best bug you could have hoped for.” Daniel’s eyes had gone soft with affection. “Amanda saw it—saw you—and she said she got a funny feeling in her tummy. That’s when she showed her aunt the flyer.”

  Hope brought a visibly shaking hand up to cover her mouth. She was afraid to ask, afraid to hope, even though she knew Daniel wouldn’t be here talking to her this way if not … if it wasn’t … if Amanda wasn’t …

  Lucca squeezed her elbow reassuringly, giving her strength enough to ask, “She’s …?”

  “I ran her prints just to be sure, and they match. She doesn’t remember the name “Holly,” but she does remember that her angel mommy had Bambi eyes. She wants to look into your eyes, Hope.”

  With that, Daniel stepped aside and another figure was revealed. Strawberry blonde curls. Peaches and cream complexion and a button nose. Her father’s blue eyes. Hope gasped, and time stood still.

  Memories flashed. The first cry at birth. The moment she learned to crawl, to walk. To ride a bike. To talk. What’s that called, Mommy? Why is the sky blue, Mommy? Can we go to the park today, Mommy?

  Hope steepled her hands in front of her mouth. A prayer.

  “I remember you,” a little voice said as Holly took a step forward. She wore jeans and a Dallas Mavericks sweatshirt and a shy smile full of permanent teeth, the baby teeth long gone. “I hoped I would. Mr. Daniel said he thought I would. I guess my other mommy made a mistake. She said mean people hurt you, and that you had died and become an angel. So you were my angel mommy, and when I went to bed at night, I’d look out my window to see if I could see you up in heaven.”

  Weaving on her feet, Hop
e reached for Lucca to steady her. His hand on her arm was fast and firm, his touch filled with love and compassion.

  “Then,” Holly continued, her beautiful blue eyes going round with wonder. “I saw you on SportsCenter. I really like sports, especially basketball.”

  “Me, too,” Hope replied, choking out the first words she’d spoken to her daughter in five long, horrible years.

  Although, not all of that time had been horrible, had it? She’d had a whole progression of little miracles along the way, so much to be thankful for. Making a friend like Daniel, who never gave up—or allowed her to give up. Meeting Celeste, who gave her Eternity Springs. Even adopting Roxy, whose sharp little teeth brought Lucca storming into her life.

  Lucca. Her lover, her love.

  She lifted a disbelieving look to him. “Am I dreaming?”

  His smile was gentle and reassuring. “No, my love. You’re awake. Your daughter is really here.”

  Holly was here. Hope’s knees finally failed her, and she sank to the floor. She had a million questions about where Holly had been, why she’d been taken, and what her life had been like for the past five years. But all that could wait. Quaking like aspen leaves in an autumn breeze, tears streaming down her cheeks, she opened her arms. “Holly, can I have a hug?”

  Her own warm, precious miracle walked into Hope’s embrace.

  Holly had finally come home.

  About the Author

  New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Emily March lives in Texas with her husband and their beloved boxer, Doc, who tolerates a revolving doggie door of rescue foster dogs sharing his kingdom until they find their forever homes. A graduate of Texas A&M University, Emily is an avid fan of Aggie sports, and her recipe for jalapeño relish has made her a tailgating legend. You can find out more about Emily March and her books at www.emilymarch.com and follow her on Twitter @emilymarchbooks

  Read on for a preview of Emily March’s next novel in her Eternity Springs series:

  Dreamweaver Trail