“Hell, Hope. I’m trying.”
But was he, really? Had he tried to rise out of the funk he’d fallen into? He’d come to the mountains with his tail tucked between his legs and licking his wounds. He was playing handyman/gardener for his mother, scraping paint, trimming posies, and hiding from the world and from himself. Shameful.
Upon reaching his truck, he fired up the engine, pulled out onto Aspen Street, and started driving. He took the first turn that headed out of town, a little two-lane route that climbed up past the cemetery and into the mountains to the west. With no particular destination in mind, he drove, following the road wherever it led.
As the miles passed, Lucca slowly began to relax, to warm, to chip his way through the ice that had encased him since the moment Hope had asked him to coach.
Rounding a curve, he spied a scenic overlook ahead. He turned into the parking area, killed the ignition, and slipped into a jacket he’d left in the cab. He exited his truck and walked to the wooden railing at the overlook’s edge.
The snow shower had blown over, leaving sunshine in its wake. Eternity Springs sat snuggled in the valley below, pretty as a Christmas card with a dusting of new snow. Lucca gripped the railing and stared down at the little town.
One corner of Lucca’s mouth lifted in a cheerless smirk. In the past, he’d have heard that sentiment from his family, but they tiptoed around him these days. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time anyone had put him in his place that way. Leave it to a kindergarten teacher.
She really was something. Up at dawn to drive a bus. Teaching both five-year-olds and teens. And coaching, too?
As Lucca gazed down at the town, he spied a vehicle ascending the road he’d just traveled. Chilly day to be riding a bike, he thought, before turning his focus inward. He recognized that he stood at a crossroads. He couldn’t continue this way. He’d been playing four-corner offense for two years now. He needed to stop killing time and take his shot—or else call the game and go back to booze and beaches.
And forget all about kindergarten teachers.
His family deserved better from him. They’d been patient since he took up residence next door to Hope. Maybe too patient. They assumed that given enough time, Eternity Springs would work its magic on him and cure him of what ailed him. His brother Zach was one of the most solid, down-to-earth people he knew, and Zach honestly believed that the valley below possessed a special healing energy.
Maybe there was something to it. Despite a few curious incidents involving dirty dishes and pajama days, their mother certainly appeared to be as happy as a clam, a far cry from the sad, bereaved widow she’d been before she moved to Colorado. Gabi might not know what she wanted to do career-wise, but moving here helped her get over the lowlife she had dated in Denver.
And he … well … guess that’s what he had to decide. Was he ready to get over himself?
It had been two years since the accident. He’d spent the first year and a half suppressing his memories and shutting down his emotions, and the last six months … wallowing. On the first anniversary of the wreck, he’d phoned the Seidels and the Palmers and Brandon Gates. Two of those calls had gone well. Seth Seidel’s parents … Lucca closed his eyes. That one still ate at him.
They blamed him. They’d even threatened him with a lawsuit, though the notice he’d expected never arrived. He still heard the echoes of Seth’s father’s vitriolic accusations in his dreams. He didn’t blame the man one bit.
But maybe, just maybe, he didn’t blame himself quite as much as he used to. Was it the Eternity Springs effect? Or was it Hope Montgomery?
From the corner of his eye he saw a bird—was it a hawk?—take wing from the top of a fir tree and sail out over the valley. He watched it for long minutes as it soared and circled against the blue sky. Majestic, he thought. Powerful and free.
It dove, swooped at ground level, and rose once more with what looked like a mouse wiggling in its talons.
“Okay, why do I feel like there’s a message there for me?” he muttered. A reminder that life wasn’t always pretty, perhaps? Or that death was a natural part of life?
He turned at the sound of an approaching motorcycle and recognized the bike and the rider who pulled into the overlook parking lot. Celeste Blessing killed her engine and swung her leg off her Honda Gold Wing. Removing her helmet, she tucked it into her arms and offered him a bright smile. “Well, hello, Lucca. It’s a pleasant surprise to see you here. Did you come up to enjoy the first snowfall, too?”
“I was just out for a drive.”
“It’s a lovely day for it.”
“It’s bitter cold, Celeste.”
“But there’s a clear sky and the wind has died. It snowed just long enough to paint our town a heavenly white. I do adore changing seasons. That’s one of the reasons I moved to Eternity Springs. We have four distinct and lovely seasons.”
For Lucca, “changing seasons” had always meant football season into basketball season into baseball season. This was his first year for “changing seasons” to mean autumn leaves giving way to winter snowfall. Did he miss sports being the center of his life?
While he pondered that question, Celeste stood beside him and gazed down at Eternity Springs, sighing with utter contentment. “Isn’t it beautiful? Eternity Springs is such a special place; the valley has such positive energy. Don’t you feel it?”
“I’m too cold to feel much of anything.”
She laughed and patted his hand. “Of course, it’s the people who live here who make our home what it is. We’re all so glad that the Romano family is becoming part of the fabric of life in our town.”
She lifted her clear, winter blue eyes to study him. “Do you think you’ll stay with us, Lucca?”
“That’s what I’m trying to decide.” He didn’t know what it was, but something about Celeste invited confidences. “Someone told me today that I have no purpose. She’s right. It’s hard to know where I need to be if I don’t know what I need to be doing.”
“Well, you will figure it out. You do have a purpose, Lucca; it’s just changing from what it once was. I don’t want to tread where I’m not welcome, but if you’ll allow me to give you one bit of advice?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Life is not meant to be an interstate highway. It’s a winding mountain road with hills and dips, stop signs and school zones. Let friends and family be the data for your GPS satellite feed, and never forget that sometimes an unexpected detour leads to a hidden miracle.”
Lucca gave her a sidelong look. “I think I understand what you are trying to say, but I’m just a jock. Maybe you could elaborate?”
“Just a jock,” Celeste repeated, wrinkling her nose and sniffing with disdain. “And Albert Einstein was just a scientist. My point is that peace is a process, not a shot clock with seconds ticking away and a buzzer at the finish. It’s the result of many decisions, not just one. Don’t expect otherwise, and don’t fail to recognize how far you’ve risen from the depths of your despair. An American poet, John Vance Cheney, wrote ‘The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears.’ Your rainbow awaits, Lucca Romano. You can’t rush the journey, but you can lift your foot from the brake and goose the gas a little. Slow and steady wins the race.”
Lucca took a moment and allowed that to sink in. She’d said a lot in a few sentences. “You are quite a woman, Celeste.”
“I’ve been around this world a long time. I’m experienced. And speaking of experience, this afternoon I get to babysit for Sarah while she gets a haircut, so I’d best be going. I’m afraid she’ll put him down for a nap before I get there, and I’ll miss cuddle time.” She donned her helmet and fixed the chin strap. “What are your plans for the afternoon, dear?”
Lucca turned his attention back to the town nestled in the valley below and picked out the school. “I have some crow to eat. An apology to make.”
