The Tender Vine (Diamond of the Rockies #3)(19)

“Even without this, èmie, I need to see my family. I need to be near them. I was crazy to think otherwise. I love you and Mae, but . . .”

èmie squeezed her hand. “I understand.”

Covering èmie’s hand with her own, Carina drew her closer. “I want you to have the restaurant.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this, all of this.” Carina waved her hand to indicate the extent of her property.

“But, Carina . . .” èmie shook her head, overwhelmed.

Carina shook her. “You don’t want it? After all you’ve learned and mastered?”

“I . . . of course, but . . .”

“Is it Robert? Won’t he want you to continue? At least until he’s successful?”

“It won’t be the same without you, Carina. I can’t be you.”

Carina spread her hands. “It will be yours. Whatever you make it.”

èmie sat very still. Then, “You’re kind, Carina. I know what this restaurant means to you, the good you’ve done with it. I’d be honored to carry on. I’ll speak to Robert.”

Carina squeezed her hand. “There’s room to add a clinic on the other side by Fletchers.”

èmie grinned. “So there is.”

Carina folded her hands together. “Signore, you know my friend èmie of whom I’ve spoken many times before. I want her to have this restaurant, so would you kindly arrange it with her husband who’s not too sure yet what he is or should be doing?”

èmie laughed. “That’s not fair, Carina. Even a doctor can be bitten with the mining bug.”

“Oh, sì.” Carina waved her hand. “And maybe he’ll think twice about risking his life when he has the skills to save others.”

“He already is.”

“Then take this gift; add a clinic. If your cooking is bad, he’ll have the treatment.”

They laughed until èmie suddenly threw her arms around Carina’s neck. “You’ve changed my life.”

Carina squeezed her back, too emotional to answer. It would not be easy to let go. As much as she wanted to go home, needed to, it would not be easy to let go.





SIX

Take heed before you give your heart, for given once, ’tis ere more lost.

And though it beats within your breast, each steadfast beat now bears a cost.

—Quillan

QUILLAN ENTERED THE SHOP for the third time. Since there was still no reply from D.C., he would mark the day with another gift. This shop was down the street from the Italian market where he’d purchased Carina’s supplies, but it was full of feminine fripperies. He vaguely recalled her pausing outside its window the one time they went to Fairplay together.

The first day of this trip he’d purchased a lace collar, the next a parasol, though it was definitely not parasol weather. He finagled a good price because of that. The third day he chose a different shop and bought a box of hand-decorated velum stationery. But today he was back to the first shop. He went straight to the glass case and eyed what he already knew he would purchase even though it was priced at a usurer’s cost.

The clerk noticed him immediately. “So you’ve decided on it?”

Quillan frowned. Not even an offer to budge on the extravagant price. “Thought maybe you’d come to your senses and were ready to charge a realistic fee for a nice but certainly not irreplaceable item.”

The man smiled. “Don’t you think she’s worth it?”

Quillan glared. “She’s worth it, but the pin’s not.”

The clerk shrugged his beefy shoulders. “It’s what it is.” He knew he had Quillan trapped, and Quillan resented it. He’d looked in the other shops. There were trinkets plenty, but none so perfect for Carina as the amethyst stickpin in the case before him.

“All right, package it.” Quillan pulled out his money, wishing he could wipe the grin off the storekeeper’s face.

The man leaned close with a conspiratorial whisper. “Bitten bad, are you?”

Quillan didn’t answer.

“Hoping to get somewhere with this one, I’d wager.” He showed yellowed teeth the shape of stalactites.

Quillan said, “It’s for my wife.”

“Oh.” The clerk tapped his nose. “Never hurts to lay it on thick.”

He wrapped the pin in tissue and handed it over.

Quillan snatched it. If any more days passed, he’d do his shopping elsewhere. But he knew Carina would love the things he’d purchased. If only D.C. would answer the telegram and the weather would clear. He went outside and looked into the sky, gray with more impending snow.

“Two things, Lord. A telegram and a blue sky.” He brought his gaze down to a bearded man watching him. Was it so foolish to stand in the street and pray? Quillan tipped his hat, and the man walked past. Quillan went to the telegraph office.

The clerk looked up. “Nothing yet.”

Quillan thanked him and went back out. What could be taking D.C. so long to answer? Was he upset Quillan would even consider selling? Couldn’t he understand the position they were in? He went back to the hotel to secure Carina’s gift in his pack with the others. The parasol, of course, stood in the corner.