Emily March - Miracle Road

Carrying a laundry basket filled with towels and a blanket, she knocked on Lucca Romano’s front door. Minutes passed. She knocked again. She heard no sound at all from inside the house. Knock. Knock. Knock. “Mr. Romano? Lucca?”

Nothing.

“Well, hurry up and wait,” she muttered. It figured that he’d be the type to demand punctuality in others but consider himself above the common courtesy in return. She didn’t have time to waste. She wanted to get Roxy and the puppies all settled by the time Nic arrived to check on them so that she could advise her if she’d done something wrong. Knock. Knock. Knock. “Lucca?”

She listened. Nothing. She tried the doorknob. It wasn’t locked. He did tell me to come get the dogs. That’s a tacit invitation inside, I’d think.

Hope stepped into the house and moved confidently toward the bedroom. As she passed the hall bathroom, she noted that he’d left the wet gym shorts he’d been wearing lying in a heap on the floor. Such a slob. Bet Maggie would just love to see that.

At the door to his bedroom, Hope stopped cold.

Lucca Romano lay sprawled on his stomach across the top of the bed, a white sheet tangled around his hips. She heard a slight snore rumbling from beneath the pillow he had pulled over his head. She took a minute to appreciate the view. Italian skin deeply tanned from a summer spent south of the border, muscles developed by years of athletic training filling out his long, tall frame: he was a gorgeous specimen of masculinity. She could easily imagine him in a charcoal Armani suit, white dress shirt, and a tie with green stripes to subtly complement the color of his eyes. Definitely GQ qualified.

She could just as easily imagine him without the sheet covering his hips, with his buttocks bare and firm and … Oh, for heaven’s sake. Get the dogs before you begin to drool or he wakes up and catches you gawking.

She turned away and set about her work. She lured Roxy outside the closet with a dog treat and instructions to go outside to potty. Then she gently gathered up the puppies and placed them into her laundry basket. Picking up her burden of cuteness, she turned around and halted.

Lucca stood beside the bed facing her, his back arched, his torso twisted, his arms outstretched and muscles flexed as he stretched and yawned. She wondered if one of his Italian ancestors had modeled for Michelangelo’s David.

“You’re wearing Sesame Street boxer shorts,” she observed stupidly.

“Elmo.” He gave a lazy smile and arched a challenging brow. “Like ’em, Brunhilda?”

“I’d have pegged you more as Oscar the Grouch.”

“That’s what my mom said when she gave them to me. I have a whole Sesame Street set.”

“Your mother gives you boxer shorts.”

“And socks. Every Christmas and birthday.”

“And you wear them.”

“Why not?”

He dragged his hand down his bristled jaw and yawned once more. The sound shook Hope from her stupor. “I’d better get these little guys settled.”

“Need any help carrying them?”

“I’m good. Thanks.” Hope continued toward the door, awkwardly searching for something to say before settling on a simple “Welcome to Eternity Springs, Coach Romano.”

In an instant, he went from looking like a Roman god to an angry Mafia don. “Call me Lucca. Just plain Lucca.”

She sucked in a breath. There was anger, and yet there was such pain in this man, too. She understood pain. She sympathized with it.

Gentling her tone, she said, “I’m Hope, just plain Lucca. You can call me Hope.”

As early morning sunlight sparkled like diamonds on the surface of Hummingbird Lake, Zach Turner saw his wife and mother off on a two-day shopping trip to Denver with a hug and kiss and a caution to drive carefully. He waited until they’d turned off Reflection Point Road and disappeared from sight to make a fist pump in the air. Today was his day off and no one had claims upon his time. He loved Savannah to distraction, and he considered married life pure bliss. Getting to know his birth mother and siblings and having them as part of his daily life enriched his world. But his bachelor and sans-family days hadn’t ended all that long ago, and while he’d never admit it aloud, sometimes he missed the freedom that came with being alone.

Whistling beneath his breath, he walked toward his garage—dubbed his “toy closet” by Savannah—and opened the door. Standing in the threshold, he debated his choices. What did he want to do today? Ride his bike? Take a cruise on his motorcycle? Grab his fishing tackle and head up to the Taylor River? Maybe he should load up his climbing gear and give Storm Mountain a go. The possibilities were endless and invigorating … until the sound of an approaching vehicle made him tense.

He recognized the peculiar ping in the engine of one of his department’s Range Rovers. Why would Gabi drive out to Reflection Point today? Had there been an emergency, the office would have called. Anything short of an emergency, well, days off were sacrosanct.

He walked out to meet the truck, wondering if her visit was deputy related or sister related or both.

Gabi parked her Range Rover and approached him wearing a tired smile. The dark circles beneath her eyes made him frown. “What’s up?”

“I know it’s your day off and this won’t take long, but once I made the decision, I knew I needed to go ahead and tell you.”

Zach didn’t like the sound of that. “What decision?”

Gabi sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I’m giving my two-weeks’ notice. I’m leaving the department.”

He searched her eyes, so similar to his own, and spied the worry. She was fearful of his reaction, he realized. He wasn’t entirely surprised. He’d suspected for some time that she hadn’t been happy. While this was definitely a sheriff’s-deputy moment, the brother spoke to his sister and said, “Well, that sucks for me. Is it my coffee? You’ve finally had all you can stand?”

Her smile wobbled and a frown creased her brow. “Admitting this makes me feel like such a loser, but Zach, I don’t want to carry a gun anymore.”

She swallowed hard and blinked back tears, and Zach opened his arms to her. “C’mere.”

“No. I can’t.” She held up her hands, palms out, and took a step backward. “If I let you hug me, then I’ll cry, and that will be the cherry on top.”

“Cherries are good for you,” Zach responded, ignoring her protest as he pulled her into his arms. “They’re fruit and you are the farthest thing from a loser out there, Gabriella. You gave me my life.”

When old enemies attempted to murder Savannah the previous summer, Gabi had shot and killed a woman seconds after that woman had shot and damn near killed Zach. His sister’s first aid and clear thinking had saved him from bleeding out on the floor.

Now she sputtered a little as she tried not to sob against his shoulder. “That’s the problem. I’m so thankful I was there to back you up, and I’m proud that I saved you, but the thought of having to draw my gun again … to use it … gives me the creeps. I could do it if I had to—I know that—but the fact is that I walk around with a little ball of dread in my gut all the time, even here in Eternity Springs where the crime rate is next to nothing. I don’t want to live this way, Zach.”

“Then you shouldn’t.”

“That’s what my counselor said, but this is my career. I wanted to be a cop, and the bottom line is that I can’t cut it. That makes me feel lousy.”

“That’s bull,” Zach fired back. “The bottom line is that you did your job when it counted most.”

“But that’s before the little ball of dread. I can’t be counted on to be there the next time. I don’t trust myself.”

Zach let out a snort of derision. He’d taken a life in the line of duty before, so he could relate to what she was feeling, but he also knew his sister. He stepped back and held her upper arms, waiting until she met his gaze to say, “Well, that’s just silly. I understand leaving if you’re not happy. That’s no way to go through life. But don’t do it because you don’t believe in yourself, Gabi. There’s not a doubt in my mind that you wouldn’t perform under fire or in any sort of emergency. Frankly, if I had any doubt at all, I wouldn’t have put you back on the job.”

She let out a long sigh. “I wish I could be as certain. But even if I were, I don’t think I’d want to stay. Something has changed in me since the shooting, Zach. It makes me sad, but the uniform doesn’t suit me.”

“Tell that to all the male tourists who get whiplash watching you stroll around town.”

“I said it didn’t suit me, not that it didn’t look good on me.” She sniffed pridefully, then grinned for an instant before becoming serious once more. “I feel like I’m at a crossroads. It’s time for me to turn in a different direction.”

A thought occurred to Zach, and his heart gave a little lurch. “Will you stay in Eternity Springs?”

“Definitely. I’m going to ask Mom if I can work with her at the B&B. She’s going to need help whether she’ll admit it or not.”

“True.” Zach wondered, though, if having Gabi as Maggie’s helper was a good idea. He’d never forget the argument they’d had over how to scramble eggs when he was convalescing. Those were two hardheaded women.

“So, you and I are okay? You don’t think I’m a coward?”

Zach grinned. “You and I are just fine, and I think it takes an exceedingly brave person to want to work with our mother.”

Ruefully, Gabi shrugged. “Maybe I’m just crazy.”

“Maybe.”

They discussed resignation-related procedures for a few minutes, then Gabi departed. Watching her go, Zach experienced a vague sense of unease. He knew the woman well as a deputy and a friend. He knew her less well as a sister. Was the idea of working with their mother a good thing for Gabi and Maggie, or a bad thing for them both? Adult children working with parents faced a peculiar set of challenges. For that matter, parents working with adult children did, too. And Maggie was still trying to figure out widowhood.