Читать книгу Men In Uniform: Burning For The Fireman: Firefighter's Doorstep Baby / Surrogate and Wife / Lying in Your Arms - Barbara McMahon - Страница 9

MARIELLA braced herself against another bump as the ambulance sped toward the hospital. Dante cried until she picked him up to cuddle, trying to hold him around the oxygen nodules they both wore. He grew quiet at that and snuggled against Mariella. “Oh, sweet thing, we almost died.” Tears pricked her eyes. She caught a sob. How could the cottage catch fire? And why had there been no alarms to alert them of the danger before it was too late? The first she’d known of the emergency was when she heard Cristiano calling her name. Smoke had filled their room and she’d almost passed out trying to get out of bed and to safety. Breathing had been almost impossible.

The next thing she remembered was stumbling into the yard with Cristiano while Dante cried. Thank God he was safe. They both were.

Her head pounded and her eyes watered again. Coughing, she felt she could not draw a full breath. A weight seemed pressed against her chest.

“We’ll have you to hospital in just a short while. They’ll bathe your eyes and continue the oxygen until morning,” the EMT said, handing her a tissue to wipe the tears.

The baby had settled down, looked as if he was going back to sleep. She kissed his cheek, so grateful. Mariella wished she could drop off as he did and forget everything—if only for a few hours. Who would think such things happened while on holiday?

Once they reached the hospital, nurses swarmed around the ambulance. One gently took the baby, promising to take good care of him as she whisked him away to be seen by a doctor. Another helped Mariella into a wheelchair and pushed her quickly into the ER. It was quiet except for the two of them. In a short while a doctor had cleaned the cuts and stitched up the one on her left foot.

“Where’s my baby?” she asked.

“He’s in Pediatrics, on oxygen. A pediatrician has checked him out. Except for smoke inhalation, he seems fine. You can see him soon.”

Mariella nodded. She already missed him. She needed to see again that he was all right. But patience was called for. For the first time she had a moment to think. Cristiano had saved them. She had no idea how he’d happened to be there, but she thanked God he had been. He was a hero. Without his intervention, she and Dante could have died.

After she’d been seen by the doctor, she was conveyed to a semi-private room by way of the pediatric ward. Once satisfied Dante was safely asleep, she allowed herself to be taken to her own room where she insisted she could bathe herself. After a quick shower, she gladly lay down, with oxygen, and tried to sleep—but the horrors of the night haunted her. What if Cristiano hadn’t arrived? She and the baby could have been burned to death. What had caused the fire? What had brought Cristiano there at exactly the right time? It was much, much later before she fell into a fitful sleep.

Mariella stood by the window of the hospital room in the late morning gazing at the beauty before her. The gardens of the hospital gave way to the view of rolling hills that gave this area so much of its beauty. She knew the lake lay beyond her view. From her vantage point she saw only the edge of a bustling town and the distant serene countryside. The village was hidden behind a fold in the hills and no trace of smoke marred the crystal-blue sky.

Everyone went along with their daily lives. She had lost clothes and her laptop. And her photo of Ariana. Dante had only the sleeper he wore when they were rescued. Her livelihood depended on connections with her clients. She had to get another computer soon. She had backup files at home, so wouldn’t totally start from the beginning. But this would certainly put a crimp in things.

The few hours’ sleep she’d managed made her feel refreshed. She needed her wits about her to get back on track. Maybe she should consider returning to Rome immediately. But she wasn’t sure when she’d have another break in her workload to look for Dante’s father. If she didn’t do some checking now, people would forget. Maybe they already had. But she owed it to the baby to find out anything she was able to.

Even with oxygen she still used she felt as though her lungs were on fire and it was difficult to breathe. Still, things were improving—she could go several minutes without the racking coughs.

She was declared healthy enough to be discharged, with a follow-up visit scheduled for a few days later.

She hurried to the pediatric ward, limping slightly because of the stitches in her left foot. She slowed in surprise to see Cristiano staring at the babies in the nursery.

“Cristiano?”

He turned and smiled when he saw her, giving her a critical look. “How are you today?”

She coughed, then smiled as she came up to him. “Much better. Doctor said I can go home and come back in a few days for another checkup.” She looked into the nursery. “Is Dante in there?”

“No, these are newborns. Look how small they are.”

She noticed the four babies and smiled. “Dante was tiny like that when he was born. Now look how big he’s grown.”

He turned and studied her again. “You really okay or are you pushing things?”

“I really will be fine. Let’s find Dante.”

Mariella was wearing clothes lent to her by a nurse on the night shift. Her feet didn’t bother her much. The cut on the left gave her a bit of a limp, but the doctor had assured her it would heal quickly with no lasting damage. The scruffy slippers she wore needed to be replaced, too. Her mind spun with all she needed to do.

Cristiano led the way into the pediatric ward and in seconds they were in the room with the baby.

“The pediatrician made his round a short time ago,” the nurse said. “Your baby’s ready to go.” She smiled at both of them. “He’s a darling child. So attentive. But I know he misses his parents.”

In a moment Mariella stood by the crib. Dante looked up at Mariella and gave her a wide grin. Lifting his arms, he came up easily when she reached out to pick him up. She held him closely, relishing the warmth of him in her arms. Her heart swelled with love. For a moment she almost broke into tears thinking about how close she had come to losing him. He was her precious son. The last link to her dearest friend. She gave silent thanks for his safety.

She turned to Cristiano. “You did a wondrous thing saving us. How could I ever thank you?” Mariella took a deep breath, taking in the sweet scent of baby powder and baby shampoo.

“Just get well fast. I’m glad I was there.”

“And knew what to do. I don’t even want to think about what could have happened.”

“Don’t. Let’s get out of here,” he said. “I’m not a big fan of hospitals.”

As soon as they stepped outside he steered her to the black sports car parked nearby. Eying it dubiously, she asked, “Do you have a car seat for Dante?”

“The hospital is lending us one until you buy another. Then we’ll bring it back. First thing, you need some clothes. Not that the outfit you’re wearing doesn’t have a certain cachet,” he said, opening the door and pushing the passenger seat forward to access the baby’s seat.

She laughed, then broke into coughing again. “Thanks. Nothing boosts a woman’s ego more than compliments—” She stopped abruptly, before saying from a man she cares about. She had only just met the man. Taking the opportunity to end the statement while she put Dante into the carrier, she vowed to watch what she said in future.

Dante was oblivious to any tension. He babbled away in baby language and patted Mariella’s face. Tangling his fingers in Mariella’s long hair as she leaned over fastening the straps, he pulled.

“Ouch. You have to stop doing that,” Mariella said with a laugh, grabbing his little hand and kissing the fingers. “That hurts!”

“He seems in fine form,” Cristiano said.

Mariella smiled. “Seems as if no harm done. He’s not even coughing.”

Once she got Dante situated, she turned to Cristiano, so glad he’d come for her. “I have a million things to do. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“Who else?”

She bit her lip and nodded. Who else indeed? She had no one except friends in Rome. If he was willing, she’d take all the help she could get.

“I have no identification—it burned in the fire. Along with all my money. I guess the first stop should be the bank, to see if I can get some cash.”

“If not, I’ll advance you some. Come on, it’s breezy, let’s get going.”

Fifteen minutes later Mariella sat in a branch of her bank, talking with a manger to verify her identity and get money. Dante sat in Cristiano’s lap, reaching for things on the manager’s desk. He patiently pulled him back each time.

“That takes care of that,’ the manager said as he hung up his telephone. “I’ll get my secretary to bring you the money, and a temporary check book. You’ll get imprinted checks sent to your home.”

“Thank you. I appreciate all you’ve done for me.”

The speedy transaction had been facilitated by Cristiano. The manager knew him and his family.

Once Mariella had money, Cristiano drove to a department store where she could get all she needed. He knew his way around Monta Correnti, for which she was grateful.

First purchase was a stroller for Dante, and a baby carrier. Once she no longer had to carry him, she felt better able to cope.

“Get a few things for him. I’ll watch him, then, while you get your things,” Cristiano suggested.

“You are a saint to do all this for me,” she said. “I’m not sure I could have managed on my own.”

He reached out and brushed back a lock of hair, tucking it behind her ear. The touch sent shockwaves running through her body. She smiled shyly and wanted to catch his hand and hold onto it, gaining what strength she could from him. But she kept still, treasuring the touch of his fingertips.

“You could have managed, I have no doubt. But why do it on your own?”

She nodded, knowing he’d made a special effort to help her. From comments Signora Bertatali had made, Cristiano had not left Lake Clarissa since he had arrived. She didn’t know why he made an exception for her, but she was grateful.

“Next should be food for the baby. Once he’s ready to eat, he lets everyone know in no uncertain terms—crying his head off.”

“I bow to your assessment.”

Mariella enjoyed shopping, the easy banter that grew between them. She held up baby clothes for his approval, which he gave after much mock deliberation.

“It really doesn’t matter that much,” she said, laughing at his posturing about the perfect outfit for Dante. “He’s a baby. He doesn’t know or care what he wears.”

“Hey, he’s special. He needs to make a statement—he’s cool and he knows it.”

She laughed again. Who could have suspected the devastation of the fire could lead to such a fun day-after? “I’ll be sure to take pictures so he’ll know when he’s older.”

Cristiano cocked his head at that. “Do you have a camera?”

“It burned.”

“We’ll get another.”

“All the pictures I had on it are gone, too.”

“All the more reason to make sure you start snapping new photos, so those won’t be missed.”

Her coughing was the only flaw in the day. She bought enough clothes to take care of a few days, shoes that didn’t hurt her foot, and cosmetics—a definite necessity when she saw her face in the mirror. She probably should think about returning home to Rome. But she was enjoying every moment with Cristiano. She didn’t want to think about being practical just yet.

Cristiano stood outside the dressing room, waiting for Mariella. Dante had been fed, changed, and was now asleep in the stroller. Idly he pushed it back and forth, but the baby didn’t need soothing, he was out for his nap.

Glancing around the department store, he noted he was the only man, except for an elderly gentleman talking with his wife. If he’d ever suspected he’d be watching a baby this October day, that would have surprised him. Yet he couldn’t imagine letting Mariella and Dante face this alone.

She came out of the dressing room wearing jeans that should have been banned—they made her figure look downright hot. The long-sleeve pink top highlighted her coloring and made her eyes seem even brighter silver. He could look at her all day. It wasn’t just her looks that made it easy on the eyes. Her innate optimism shone from her eyes. He wished he could capture some of that for himself.

“Okay, I’ve gotten all I need, just have to pay for everything,” she said, with a bright smile at him and a quick check for Dante.

“I’ll be right here,” he said, watching with appreciation as she walked away. Those freckles across her nose called to him. He wondered if she liked them. He’d heard from his sister when growing up that most women did not want freckles. He found them enticing. In fact, the more he saw of Mariella, the more he found enticing. She was pretty, sexy, and nurturing. He liked watching her with Dante. The baby seemed as fascinated with her as Cristiano was. “Probably a male thing,” he murmured to the sleeping baby.

“All set,” she said a moment later.

“Let’s eat. You have to be hungry after all this and I know I am.”

“Great. Where? Oh, dumb question, you probably always eat at your family restaurant.”

Cristiano felt the comment like a slap. He had not been to Rosa for a long time. He’d been avoiding his cosseting family as much as he could, not wanting their sympathy over his injuries, and especially not wanting them to learn of his torment.

Excuses surged to mind. “I thought we’d eat closer to where we are. Rosa is across town. Then we need to get you two back to Lake Clarissa.”

“Why? Where am I going to stay?”

“You could stay with me,” he said. Then stared at her as the words echoed. Was he totally crazy? He’d been avoiding people to keep quiet about the flashbacks. He could not have anyone stay at the cottage. The first night he had a nightmare, the secret would be revealed.

“Thank you, really, but I can’t stay with you. If the Bertatalis have another cabin available, maybe I’ll stay a bit longer. I probably ought to return to Rome.”

“Don’t go.”

He felt the intensity of her gaze. He could almost feel her mind working as she considered staying.

“Maybe for a few more days. I have no picture of Ariana to show around, few clothes, no computer.”

“I have one you can use.”

She slowly smiled. It was all Cristiano could do to refrain from leaning over and kissing her right in the middle of the department store. He caught his breath and forced himself to look away. Had he gone completely round the bend? He’d never felt such a strong desire to kiss a woman before. Obviously complete isolation was driving him more crazy than he already was.

“Then I’ll stay for a few more days.”

A man in his situation couldn’t ask for more than that. At least not yet.

When Cristiano drove into the village by the lake, Mariella felt her stress level rise. The horror of the fire rose the closer they got to the resort. She wondered if she could ever fall asleep without fearing a fire would consume her lodgings.

He stopped the car near the Bertatalis’ residence. The charred remains of the cottage could be seen clearly in the daylight. How had the fire started?

Signora Bertatali must have heard them as she threw open her door and rushed out to Mariella.

“Ah, Signorina Holmes. You are back.” She hugged Mariella, baby and all. “I am so thankful. And the baby, he is well?” She greeted Cristiano and insisted on all coming into her home.

“We are devastated your cabin burned. Aye, when I think of what could have happened without the swift intervention of Cristiano. You will stay with us at no cost, we insist. That such a thing could happen is not acceptable. The fire chief thinks the heater’s wiring overloaded. All are being inspected before we rent out another space. The electrician is here even now. I am so sorry. When I think of what could have happened—”

“We’re fine, signora.”

Cristiano nodded at her acknowledgment, staying near the door.

“Our insurance will cover everything. Please say you’ll stay a little longer. We do not want you to remember Lake Clarissa with the horror from the fire. Do let us make it up to you. My husband has a contractor going over every inch of every cottage. They will be totally safe. I guarantee it. Please stay.”

Mariella looked at Cristiano. “A day or two,” she agreed.

“I am so grateful you are safe. And your baby. Come, let me prepare some tea and you sit. Please, come into the kitchen.”

Signora Bertatali bustled around asking question after question. How did she feel? Did she get enough clothing?

“We are all so fortunate you saw the fire,” she said to Cristiano. “How did you from your grandfather’s cottage?”

He explained he’d been riding. Mariella wondered why he’d gone riding in the middle of the night. Not that it mattered. Thanks to him, they were safe.

Signora Bertatali poured the hot tea and sat at the table across from Mariella and Cristiano. Dante began fussing and Mariella reached into the baby bag to bring out a bottle. In short order it was ready.

“Let me. You drink your tea,” Cristiano said, reaching for the little boy. Dante was light in his arms. For a moment Cristiano saw the baby he’d rescued. How was that child doing all these months later? He would have to see if he could find out.

“Thank you.”

“And you, Cristiano, your family will be even more proud to learn of your rescue of last night. After that terrorist attack in Rome. I shiver every time I think about it.”

He had no comeback. He didn’t care if his family never knew of last night’s fire. He was content to know he’d been able to function as his training had prepared him. No fear except for the woman and child.

Once Dante had been fed and changed, Signora took them to the cottage right next door to the Bertatalis’ home. It had been completely checked out and declared safe. Cristiano unpacked his car and brought in all her new clothes while Mariella put the baby down in the new crib.

Too tired to think straight, she thanked him and watched as he left, then fell on top of the bed and pulled over a blanket. Before she could mentally list any of the many steps she needed to take, she fell asleep.

The next morning Cristiano sat on the flagstone patio in front of the cottage and read from the latest manual his commander had sent him. Still technically on disability leave, he had plenty of time to keep up with the latest information and his commander agreed, sending him updates and reports to keep him current.

He heard a sound and looked up, surprised to see Mariella walking down the long graveled driveway. The sun turned her hair a shimmery molten gold shot through with strands of copper. She wore dark trousers and a sweater, though the afternoon was warm for October. He hadn’t expected to see her here. How had she found the cottage? Not that it was hidden, lying right off the main road.

“Buongiorno,” she called in greeting.

“Hello,” he said, rising as he placed the manual face down on the small table. He hadn’t expected her to make the long walk up a hill with a cut on her foot. Where was the baby?

“I came to say thank you for saving us,” she said.

“You did that yesterday,” he said, watching as she walked closer. He could see no lasting effects of the fire. Only the faintest hint of a limp showed.

“I know. I just wanted to see you again.” She gave a shy smile and the effect on his senses was like the sun coming out after days of rain. For a moment, he felt elation. Then common sense intruded. He’d asked her to stay in Lake Clarissa, she had. Now she probably wondered why.

He glanced around. It was warm in the sun, but would cool down when the patio became shaded by the trees.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked. He hadn’t had anyone at the cottage since he had arrived. It felt strange to invite her inside.

“A glass of water sounds nice. It’s warmer than I thought it would be today and that’s a long walk.”

“Especially with an injured foot.”

She lifted her leg slightly and rotated the foot in question. “Actually, it didn’t bother me that much.”

He stared at the foot, then let his gaze wander up her body to those freckles. Her hair was curly and framed her pretty face. Her eyes were more silvery now than the other night. Then they’d been a stormy grey. The sun highlighted her hair, some of it the color of honey, some almost white gold. He wanted to touch those silky strands to see if they were as soft as they promised to be. Brush his fingertips across the freckles that dusted her face. Kiss her and feel the rise of desire being with a beautiful woman evoked. Prove to himself he was still alive, healthy and normal.

He resisted temptation. Dared he take the risk?

Every cell in his body clamored for closer contact with her. Temptation was never easily denied. He relished the feelings, the wanting, the anticipation, the desire. After staying alone for months, it was like an awakening, as if his body were coming alive after a long illness, painfully tingling. How ironic, he was attracted to a woman for the first time in ages and he dared not pursue the relationship. At least not beyond a casual friendship.

“Water’s in the kitchen,” he said.

She tilted her head slightly and smiled. “Usually is.”

He led the way through the dark living area back to the kitchen. He opened the cupboard and stared for a moment. There were no glasses.

She followed him, looking around with curiosity. For a moment Cristiano scanned the room, noting the dirty dishes stacked in the sink.

He heard a giggle behind him and turned to find Mariella trying to hide her laughter. He scowled, knowing exactly what she was thinking.

“I’ve seen college kids with digs like this, but I never thought once people were grown up they’d continue to live this way. Or is it only guys?” she asked, the amusement bubbling in her voice.

“Dante would understand,” he said, spotting a glass on the counter. He snagged it and quickly washed it. After it was rinsed, he filled it with tap water and handed it to her, still dripping. His sister would have his head if she ever saw the mess. His father would be speechless. Cristiano remembered how fastidious Luca had always been in the kitchen of Rosa.

She took the glass with a smile. “Thank you. I didn’t mean to offend,” she said. Drinking the entire glass in less than a minute, she held it out for more.

He filled it again. She coughed until she had tears in her eyes. Taking the glass, she sipped it more slowly this time, her gaze looking around the room as a smile tugged her lips.

“I’ve been recovering from an injury,” he said gruffly, suddenly wanting her to know he didn’t normally live this way.

Instant compassion shone in her face when she swung back. “I’m sorry. And on top of that you had the ordeal of carrying me away from the fire. I can’t believe how fast the cottage burned.”

“Entire houses can burn in less time given the right fuel and no safety precautions,” he said. “How’s the baby?”

“He’s doing well. The Bertatalis are bending over backward to be accommodating. Did you know she has three children of her own, all grown now? She says she loves babies and almost begged to watch Dante for me while I walked here. Her husband has offered to take me on one of the fishing excursions on the lake.”

“He leads fishing expeditions in the summer. Take him up on it if you get the chance—you’ll like it.”

“Hmm, maybe. It seems a little cool to be boating.”

“I’ll give you a ride back when you’re ready to leave. Save walking on that foot.”

“That would put you out. Which was not my intention. I truly wanted to thank you. You’re a hero.”

“No, I’m not.” Why did people keep saying that? If they knew the truth—“I’ll give you a ride,” he said.

His motorcycle sat beneath the carport at the rear. Beyond that was a small building, door firmly closed.

Mariella followed, glancing around the kitchen again as she stepped outside.

“I could come back tomorrow and clean up the kitchen for you. As a token of appreciation.”

Cristiano shook his head. “I don’t need it.”

He started the bike and helped her climb on. Instructing her to hold on tight, he didn’t expect the jolt of awareness when she wrapped her arms around him. Her body was pressed against his back, her hands linked over his stomach. He closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her. Her hands were small, gripping over his belly. Her breasts pressed against his back and for a moment he wanted to turn around and pull her into a kiss.

“So how long will Signora Bertatali watch Dante?” he asked.

“No time limit.”

“Want to take the long way home?”

“Sure.”

“Will you be warm enough?”

“Oh, yes.”

He started out slowly and then picked up speed when they reached the road. Turning away from the lake, he took the road he loved to ride when trying to outrun the demons and nightmares. It wound through the forest, dappled in shade in places, in full sunshine in others.

From time to time they could catch a glimpse of the lake sparkling in the distance. It was not as breezy today as other days and in places the lake looked like a mirror, reflecting sky and forest.

Mariella loved the ride. She felt free with the scenery whipping by. Seeing the lake when they turned from time to time was fabulous. Thankful for her rescue, she felt especially attentive to everything today. It was as if she were seeing things in a different light.

All due to Cristiano. And not only because he had saved them from the fire. But to take time yesterday to make sure she and Dante had all they needed was special.

But what she cherished the most was his request for her to stay.

He slowed and pulled off the road in a turn out that went to the edge of the open space in front of them.

“Oh wow,” she said, gazing at the sight. The lake looked like a jewel nestled in a green setting. Beyond another hill and then another rose, until she felt she were on the rim of the world, looking out.

He stopped the motor. The silence was complete. Then the soft sighing of the breeze through the trees could be heard.

“This is beautiful,” she said softly, so as not to disturb the moment.

“We can walk to the edge if you like,” he said.

She hopped off the motorcycle and waited for him. Walking to the edge, she saw several rough-cut log benches.

“Others must come here for the view,” she said, sitting on one sun-warmed log.

He sat beside her, gazing at the vista in front of them.

For several moments neither spoke, then Cristiano said softly, “I come here when I need to get away.”

“A special place,” she said, smiling, feeling as if she’d been given a gift. “I wish I had one. It gets overwhelming sometimes with Dante and working and trying to balance everything. I would love a place like this to just sit and be.”

He nodded. “Maybe that’s what is appealing, I can just be myself here.”

She looked at him, tilting her head slightly. “Can’t you be yourself everywhere?”

He met her gaze and slowly shook his head. “People expect certain things.”

“And we always try to meet those expectations.” She sighed. “Probably why I feel so inadequate with Dante. I expect to be wise like my mother and I’m not.”

“She probably wasn’t that wise when you were six months old,” he said gently.

Mariella thought about that for a while. Was it true? Had her mother been learning as she went? “You might be right, but she always seemed to know what to say, how to explain things.”

“You’re a good mother to Dante. Don’t doubt yourself.”

Unexpectedly, Cristiano reached out and took her hand, resting their linked fingers on his thigh. “It’s beautiful here in winter when it looks as if powder sugar has been sprinkled on the trees. Now the trees are changing color, but spring will bring the new green of beginning leaves.”

“Thanks for bringing me here,” she said, returning her gaze to the magnificent view. The carefree feeling continued as if she had let all her worries vanish on the ride and the reward was this unexpected beauty.

They talked softly until the sun started slipping behind some of the trees and the temperature began to drop.

“Time to go,” he said.

Mariella nodded, reluctant to end the enchantment of the afternoon. She would never forget this.

He continued the loop arriving in the village near the resort. He continued to the center of town to drop her by the small grocery store where she said she needed to pick up some things for Dante.

“Thanks for the ride home,” she said, when she had dismounted. Giving into impulse, she kissed his cheek. “See you,” she said and turned swiftly to enter the store.

Cristiano watched as she walked away, so alive and happy. He didn’t want to think of the outcome had he not been riding that night.

But he felt like an impostor. He was no hero. He’d never tell her, or anyone, how fear engulfed him. How the nightmares of that incident in May haunted him unexpectedly day and night. Why couldn’t he get the images out of his mind? Granted he could go several days without them. Just when he’d think he had it licked, they’d spring up and threaten to render him powerless.

Though he had been able to cope at the fire. Maybe, maybe, he was getting over it.

Mariella entered the grocery store and glanced back through the glass door. Cristiano sat on his motorcycle, staring at the door. Could he see her? She felt her heart beating heavily. She had never ridden a motorcycle before. She’d not known how intimate it felt, pressed against his hard body, feeling his muscles move against her as he drove the powerful bike. She still felt tingly and so aware of him. She hated to move, but people would begin to wonder if she stayed at the door staring like a moonstruck teenager at her latest heartthrob.

She almost giggled as she forced herself to move.

Would she ever get the chance to ride behind him again? Visit his special spot? Life seemed especially sweet today. It could almost as easily have been over for her. Instead, she had ridden with a sexy guy who intrigued her, fascinated her, set her hormones rocking.

She was curious about the injuries he was recovering from. Maybe he’d re-injured himself rescuing her, though he looked to be in perfect health to her. His broad shoulders and muscles beneath the shirt he’d worn attested to robust health. He looked as if he could jump mountains. And obviously was strong enough to carry her and the baby from a burning building.

With the loss of all her things—especially her computer—the sooner she returned home, the sooner she could pick up the pieces of her life. Maybe it was a sign she was not to look for Dante’s father.

Fortunately her purchases fit into two bags and Mariella carried them back to the cottage. She also brought a bouquet of mixed mums for her hostess. She wanted to brighten the woman’s day in gratitude for watching Dante for her. She wished the Bertatalis didn’t feel so guilty. They had not known of the faulty wiring. All had ended well—except for the loss of her computer.

Was there a place in town she could use one? An Internet café? Or, she could take Cristiano up on his offer and use his. Well, that was a no-brainer.

The next morning after tidying up, bathing and dressing the baby, Mariella set off for Cristiano’s house. The road to the cottage was lightly traveled and easily navigated. However, it proved awkward pushing the baby stroller down the uneven graveled driveway.

The day was a copy of yesterday, sunny and balmy. Leaves had begun to change on some of the trees covering the hillside, bright spots of yellows and reds showed brilliant in the sunshine against the deep green of the conifers. She breathed the fresh air. What would it be like to live here year round? Nothing like New York where she’d been the past four years, with its concrete canyons and few open parks beyond Central Park.

Different from Rome, too. But that was home. Crowded, frenetic, yet comfortably providing all she really needed.

Rounding the bend, she saw the cottage. She studied it as she walked toward it. It was warm cream-colored stone, with a steep pitched roof of dark slate. The windows were wide with shutters on either side. It looked old, settled, perfect for its mountain backdrop. With an ageless look, it was hard to tell when it was built, but clearly a long time ago, she suspected from what she’d seen on the inside. He was lucky to have such a comfortable place to recuperate.

Cristiano was not on the patio this morning. She walked to the front door and knocked.

Cristiano opened the door a moment later and stared at her in surprise, then at the baby, his expression softening.

“What are you two doing here?” he asked, smiling at Dante.

“I came to take you up on your offer to use your computer. I need to check in with my clients.”

“Come on in.” He opened the door wide and she pushed the carriage in.

“It’s dark in here,” Mariella said, stepping into the living room. “Why is it all closed up?”

He looked around as if seeing the heavy drapes pulled over the windows for the first time.

“It suited me.”

“How odd.”

“They help insulate the windows.”

“It’s not that cold.”

He stared at her a moment, then shrugged. “I’ll get the laptop.”

In less than five minutes, Dante was happily kicking his legs from the baby seat playing with a spoon and plastic cup while Mariella booted up the computer on the kitchen table. Cristiano had hooked it to a phone line. It wouldn’t be the fastest connection, but at least she could check her email. Once Cristiano saw she was connected, he took off to give her privacy. She appreciated that, too aware of the man to concentrate on her work if he hovered nearby.

She gazed around the room while the computer booted up. It had a certain old-world charm that she loved. There was a huge fireplace, stone-cold now, at one end. She could envision a cheerful fire in the dead of winter when a sprinkle of snow might lie on the ground. How cozy this room would be. The large wooden table would seat a family of eight. The stone floor was cold, but, with a few rugs, could be comfortable in the winter months.

Which she would never see here in Lake Clarissa. For a moment the disappointment seemed too strong to bear.