to wig out, you’ll kick me out on the side of the road. Call Zach and he’ll come get me.”

He sounded so uncertain. Was he ready for this? “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Actually, I do.” He lowered his mouth to hers once more and kissed her until the sound of an approaching car had them both pulling away. “I’m hanging on to my man card by a thread as it is.”

“Hardly,” Hope said, giving her best sniff of disdain. “Darlin’, after caveman sex, your man card is made out of platinum.”

Calmed, he laughed as they went to meet their team.

For the first leg of the journey, Lucca sat quietly at the back of the bus. All the way at the back. Twice when the kids got loud, he snapped at them to be quiet. When Hope started the climb up Sinner’s Prayer Pass, a glance into her rearview mirror showed her that Lucca had a death grip on the grab bar in front of him. His obvious stress affected her, and she was never so glad to reach the flats on the other side of the pass as she was this time. She wondered what her chances would be to convince him to catch a ride home with one of the parents making the trip to Serenity Valley.

They arrived at their destination without incident, and once the students exited the bus, Lucca moved up to the seat behind her. He looked like he’d run a marathon, she thought.

“Welcome to Serenity Valley,” she said.

“I made it.” He flashed her a relieved grin and added, “Is it too early to start drinking?”

“Yes. So, are you okay?”

“I think I am. It helped that this school bus is such a … school bus. I’d forgotten what a lousy ride they are, but it sure helped keep me in the present rather than losing myself in the past. You did a great job behind the wheel, Hope.”

“Thank you. Now, let’s hope I can do okay with the coach’s clipboard.”

She did a fine job, with the Grizzlies coming in third place in the tourney, a totally respectable showing. Wade had an excellent outing in the consolation game, and while Lucca treated the victorious team to dinner at a pizza joint, Hope managed to catch a nap on the bus so that she was fresh for the drive home.

The sleet started a quarter mile from the summit of Sinner’s Prayer Pass.

The ping of ice pellets sounded like bullets against the bus’s exterior, and as Hope’s alarm mounted, her grip on the steering wheel tightened. Though she focused her attention on the road, she nevertheless sensed when Lucca moved forward to sit behind her. Tension carved furrows in his brow. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Hope needed to keep calm for Lucca, for the kids, and for the sake of her own nerves, too. “It’s been warm this week. We’ll be home before the ice starts sticking to the road.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Talk to me, Coach Romano. I can use the distraction.” So, too, can you, I imagine.

“All right. What would you like me to talk about?”

She said the first thing that popped into her mind. “Thanksgiving. When I asked your mother what I could bring, she asked me to bring sweet potatoes. So, what sort of sweet potatoes does your family like? Do you go for more simple ones or do you like the whole southern sweet potato pie thing?”

Bless his heart, the man took her cue and offered her his unspoken support. He talked sweet potatoes to her all the way down from Sinner’s Prayer Pass, and then broadened to other Romano Thanksgiving fare for the rest of the way into town. By the time Hope pulled into the Eternity Springs Community School parking lot, her hands were shaking with stress and her mouth watered from hunger. “I’ll be dreaming about turkey until Thursday,” she told him as she shifted into park and cut the engine.

Lucca didn’t answer. He was the first off the bus, and he disappeared into the darkness beyond the glow of the streetlight. Exhaustion overwhelmed Hope as she climbed out of the bus and watched to make sure that all her players had rides home. “Where’s Coach Romano?” she heard Wade Mitchell ask one of his teammates.

“Guess the pizza didn’t agree with him,” another player answered. “He’s over by the Dumpster puking up his guts.”

Oh dear, Hope thought. She saw the last of the boys off, then called, “Lucca? Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He walked out of the shadows, saying, “I’m fine. I’m great. Excellent job, Hope. I don’t want to ever ride on a school bus again.”

She laughed softly, then said, “I’m beat. Walk me home, Romano?”

“I’ll carry you home if you’d like, Montgomery. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For getting us home safely. For letting me on the bus in the first place.”

“You’re welcome.” This had been a victory for him. “So have you put that particular monster to bed, do you think?”

“Partially. I have come to one decision, though. Right after Thanksgiving, I’m going to get professional help.”

“You’re going to see a counselor?”

“Not that sort of professional help. I have something else in mind. Tell me, Ms. Montgomery: How do you feel about NASCAR?”

After consulting with Gabi, Savannah, and Celeste, Hope made the decision to go with Celeste’s southern recipe for sweet potato pie. She figured that any recipe filled with butter, sugar, and nuts had to be a hit. Besides, Gabi had assured her that Maggie always had plenty of fresh vegetables to balance out the fat.

So on Thursday morning with her sweet potatoes still warm from the oven, she knocked on the door of Aspenglow Place. Maggie answered wearing an apron with a turkey on the front and a dish towel thrown over her shoulder. “Hope, welcome. Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Happy Thanksgiving. I came early to help. Tell me what I can do.”

“Bless you. Come on inside. I’m so glad to have the company. I haven’t been this nervous about a Thanksgiving dinner since the first time I cooked for my in-laws.”

They walked past the dining room, where a large table was beautifully set. “Your table is gorgeous, Maggie.”

“Thanks. This is the first year I’ve had a room and furniture big enough to seat everybody. No kids’ table arguments this year.” She gave a nervous laugh and added, “Not that I can count on an argumentless day.”

Hope gave her friend a comforting smile. “It’s going to be fine. Everyone will behave.”

“I know,” Maggie replied, leading the way into the kitchen. “I’m just afraid dinner will be awkward and tense. I met Richard’s children yesterday. They’re just delightful. They seemed so happy that he is seeing me. So different from my brood. Of course, he’s the hero rather than the villain in their family drama—his wife was unfaithful and his kids knew it.”

She handed Hope an apron, saying, “Would you like to wash and trim the green beans?”

“I’m happy to.”

Maggie went back to work forming bread dough into rolls. “I’m excited about having Richard’s granddaughter with us today. I’ve missed having children around at the holidays.”

“How old is she?”

“Ten. And she’s just a doll. A shy little thing. I made a Jell-O salad that my kids loved when they were children.” Maggie looked up from her rolls and studied Hope. “Speaking of children, we haven’t had a private time to speak since I visited your classroom. You mentioned that you’re a mother, too?”

Caught off guard, Hope snapped a green bean in two. Her heart started to pound. Her mouth went dry. Stupid, really, since she’d suspected the question might come up. She should be able to calmly confide her secret.

Instead, she blurted out. “My little girl was kidnapped.”

In the process of carrying rolls to the oven, Maggie bobbled the baking sheet and almost dropped it. “Oh, my heavens, Hope. Really? What happened?”

After taking the tray from Maggie and slipping it into the oven, Hope relayed her story, managing to share the basic facts without bursting into tears. She considered it a victory. While she spoke, Maggie abandoned all dinner prep efforts and leaned back against the counter with her arms crossed, her gaze reflecting both sympathy and horror. When Hope finally finished her story, Maggie walked over to her and gave her a hug. “I am so, so very

Вы читаете Miracle Road
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату
×