Miracle Road: Eternity Springs Book 7 (35 page)

“Now, Lucca, don’t—”

“No, Mom. It’s okay. I’m through fighting this fight. Maybe she’s right. Maybe she doesn’t have what it takes to be a mother.”

“Don’t you dare say that to her,” Maggie said, her tone and expression fierce. “That’s just being stupid.”

“No, I was stupid to believe that she’d believe in me. In us. Her ex said she was damaged goods. Hell, maybe he was right.”

“Lucca!” Maggie gasped. “You do not mean that and you know it. I will not have you talk like that about the mother of my first grandchild. So stop it. Do you hear me? Stop it right now!”

Lucca was too angry to think. He waved a hand, dismissing her reprimand. He didn’t really think Hope was damaged. She was everything he could ever want. She just didn’t want him.

“Don’t you dare dismiss me!”

Something in his mother’s tone brought him up short and cut off his self-pity in an instant. He swallowed, and felt like he was ten years old. “Mom, it’s just not that simple.”

“Of course it is. You love her.”

He did. But what good did that do him? She didn’t love him in return. “Where’s Tony? Let’s go check on him. He hurt his knee again when he climbed down into the draw to help me get Hope out of the bus. I’m responsible.”

“Lucca Ryan Romano,” Maggie said, more than a little exasperation in her tone. “I know about your brother’s injury, and I have a news flash. You are not responsible for everything that happens in this world.”

He scowled at the Christmas tree decorated with inflated latex gloves. Did no one in this town have normal tree decorations? “I’m responsible for what’s happened here tonight, Mom.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” She lifted her arms and cupped his face in her palms. She stared deeply into his eyes for a long moment, then gave his cheek a gentle slap. “Now, you
are
going to marry the mother of your baby?”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said? She doesn’t want us.”

“Oh, bull. If you believe that then maybe you don’t deserve her. Since when do you give up with time still on the clock?”

“I don’t know what to think, Mom. I’m angry. She makes it look like she has her stuff together, but that’s all a big act. Maybe she’ll never be able to get past what happened to her daughter. I don’t know that I want to beat my head against that wall for the rest of my life. Maybe I should say fine, I’ll raise the baby myself and Hope can spend her life being lonely and afraid.”

“Now, son.”

Lucca closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “It’s been a helluva day.”

“Then go on home. A walk in the snow will do you good.”

“I think I’ll do that.” Lucca gave her a hug, then hesitated, “How bad is Tony’s knee?”

“I don’t know yet. Zach said it was swollen and painful to walk on. Let’s hope it’s just a sprain and he didn’t tear something again.”

“I should stay, in case he needs my help getting home.”

“Not necessary. Gabi is already here, and Zach is on his way. You go on home.”

He ground his molars and cast a glance down the hallway toward Hope’s room, then turned and walked away.

The minute he was out of sight, Maggie pumped her fist.
Finally. A grandbaby!

She decided Tony and his leg could wait. Breezing down the hallway, she paused at the nurse’s station and asked for Hope’s room. She knocked lightly, then stuck her head inside. “Hope? I saw Lucca as he left the hospital. He told me you were here. Mind a little company?”

“Oh, Maggie.” Tears streaming down her face, Hope looked at her and said, “I miss my mother.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I know you do.” Maggie went to her and gathered her in her arms. “It’s a crying shame that you lost her so young, but never forget that a mother’s hug lasts a lifetime, long after she lets you go.”

Hope rested her head against Maggie’s breast. In a little voice, she asked, “Did Lucca tell you?”

“About the baby, you mean? Yes, he told me.”

“He’s angry.”

“He’s hurting. But then you are hurting, as well, aren’t you?”

“I can’t do it, Maggie. I know you’ll probably hate me, too, but I simply cannot go through this again.”

“I don’t hate you. Don’t be silly.” Maggie stroked Hope’s hair gently, offering silent comfort. “I think you have one of the most loving hearts I’ve ever run across. The change you have brought about in Lucca … for that, I will be forever grateful.”

“He will be a good father.”

“He will be an excellent father.” Maggie tilted Hope’s chin up so that she could look into her eyes. “And you are an awesome mother.”

New tears swelled and overflowed. “How can you say that? I lost one baby and now I’m giving the other away.”

Maggie’s heartfelt sigh drifted across the hospital room. “I have some experience with this. I don’t regret my decision to give up Zach for adoption. It was the best thing I could do for him. That’s my advice to you, love. Put your child’s needs first and you won’t go wrong.”

“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.

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 chair 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.