Until You Loved Me (Silver Springs #3)(90)

“That’s hallowed ground right there,” she said, as if they should follow up with an amen.

“God saved you,” she went on. “He knew you were meant to do great things.”

Hudson cleared his throat. “I’m not sure playing football can be considered great things.”

She slid her glasses higher on her face and tilted her head back to meet his eyes more directly. “I’m not talking about football. I’m talking about what you did for my grandson.”

“Your grandson?” Hudson echoed in surprise.

“Sean Parks. He was adopted when he was two, struggled with behavioral problems and depression and started taking drugs when he was only twelve. How he got them is beyond me,” she said with a baffled shake of her head. “But by the time he was fifteen, we weren’t sure he’d make it to sixteen. We were desperate for help when we got him into New Horizons—”

“I remember him,” Hudson murmured, suddenly recalling a shy, dark-haired, dark-eyed boy he’d met almost a decade ago, just after he’d begun mentoring at his old school.

“He thought you could walk on water,” she said. “The fact that you could overcome what you’d been through and do what you’ve done gave him hope. You were there at a critical time, and that’s what pulled him through. Now he’s graduated from college, married and expecting a baby.” She smiled broadly. “You’re his hero—but you’re mine, too. I love that kid so much.”

“I had no idea that my involvement in Sean’s life had done anything at all.” Hudson hadn’t even focused that much attention on the boy, because he’d had a family who loved him. He’d spent more time with some of the others who’d had no support—and a decade ago his involvement was more limited.

“He never got along with his father, my daughter’s ex. I think Drew was abusive, if you want the truth. Anyway, that man’s no longer in the picture. But you were Sean’s role model, someone he admired, right when it counted the most. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for what you give to that school—me and his mother.”

“I enjoy working with the boys,” he said.

“And you can reach them, because you know what it’s like to have a difficult childhood. It’s made you caring, empathetic and willing to get off your ass instead of just sitting back and enjoying your money. That’s why I won’t let my neighbors take down this sign. I don’t care if they like it or not. This sign stands for something. It stands for taking lemons and making lemonade. I, for one, am grateful that you were able to overcome what you’ve been through. You didn’t let it break you—no sir—and that acts as a beacon for others. That’s why football is important. It’s football that put you up in front of everyone, so they could see your example.”

Her words hit him so hard, Hudson couldn’t speak right away. He’d been feeling sorry for himself, he realized, letting his pain and disappointment destroy him, as so many of the boys did. What he needed to do was overcome. Be the beacon this woman thought he was. He wasn’t the only one who’d ever suffered—yet he’d been given a unique opportunity to make a difference.

“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for putting up the sign. I needed to see it.”

“Oh, it’s not going anywhere,” she said, as if she’d gladly take on all challengers.

Hudson walked over to give her a hug. “You’re an amazing woman,” he murmured.

“And you’re even more handsome up close. If I was forty years younger, you wouldn’t still be single—not if I could help it,” she said.

He laughed and waved at Archie, who was also laughing, as he walked away.





23

Ellie had gone to bed late. Even then she couldn’t sleep. Bruiser hadn’t been able to reach Hudson, either, so she had no idea where he was. She hated the thought that he was hurting and she couldn’t do anything to help. She kept imagining him driving off the edge of Highway 1, a winding stretch of road hugging the California coast, because he was going too fast or being too reckless.

She wanted to call him again—but she’d tried so many times already. She was pretty sure he’d turned off his phone. Her calls transferred directly to voice mail and Bruiser said his did, too.

Hudson would get in touch with them eventually. He had to come back to his life, to her, at some point.

Didn’t he?

“He’ll be fine,” she told herself, but nothing seemed to mitigate the worry that burned in her stomach like acid. As the minutes ticked by and she stared at her phone, hoping for some word on his whereabouts, the tears she’d held back all day began to fall.

She sat up and checked the alarm clock by her bed. It would be midday in France, which made it tempting to call her parents. They’d always been there for her, always given her love and support when she needed it most. Being so upset and frightened caused her to miss them more than ever. She wanted to talk to them—knew they were long overdue for a serious conversation, anyway.

She wasn’t quite seven months, but she was close. It was time to tell them about the baby, about everything.

*

Hudson woke with a start. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, and there was a highway patrolman peering in at him. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he collected his faculties and straightened so he could roll down the window.