The Tender Vine (Diamond of the Rockies #3)(69)

There was a tap on the door, and Tony poked his head inside. “Giuseppe is asking for you, Carina.”

She pushed back from Quillan. Giuseppe. Oh yes, she must see him, now especially. Tony glanced at Quillan, then shut the door without another word. Carina hurried into the anteroom and poured water from the pitcher into the sink. She plunged her hands into the warm, lemon-scented water and splashed it over her tear-streaked cheeks.

Quillan held the towel, and she pressed it to her face, slowing her breath and containing the awful emotion. Help me, Signore! As she prayed, she had a clear vision of Nonna rocking a baby in her arms. Carina gasped and opened her eyes. “She’s in heaven with the baby.”

Quillan furrowed his brow.

Dropping the towel, Carina grasped his hands. “Our baby, Quillan. Our baby’s with Nonna. Maybe she knew, maybe God knew they must be together.”

His expression showed he was not certain she was in her right mind, but she didn’t care. She hurried out to the bedroom. “Come with me.” She tugged him through the door and down the stairs. Women’s voices came from the kitchen, some loud and angry, others trying to hush. Carina ignored them.

Outside they crossed the courtyard where their wagon stood unattended. Quillan hesitated. Carina knew he wanted to see to the horses. But she tugged him by the hand. “It’s over here. By the barn.” She took him through the courtyard gate and over across the yard. The mules would be out to pasture, though the winter grasses were thin. She passed the barn to the cottage beside it, a small whitened structure with a clay tile roof.

She didn’t knock, just burst through the door and found Ti’Giuseppe sitting by his fire. No stove for Giuseppe. He filled the alcove with wood each morning and poked at it through the day. He turned in time to catch her, and she clung to his bony shoulders, kissing his cheeks with tears again streaking her own. He had shrunk. She felt his bones through his shirt, gathered and tied at the neck. “Tio?”

His lips parted on bare gums as his cheeks pulled into myriad lines, forming the smile she loved so dearly. “Bella Carina.” His tongue formed the words, but it was his eyes that spoke them.

Carina knelt at his side. “Tio, this is Quillan.”

Ti’Giuseppe squinted and reached out his hand.

Quillan gripped it, then covered it with his other. “Il piacere è il mio.” The pleasure is mine. Quillan said it with perfect pronunciation, and she could see Ti’Giuseppe appreciated it.

She pulled up a chair beside Giuseppe for Quillan, then settled at his feet. “How are you, Tio?” She had to know he was well.

“I am better now to have you home.” He cradled her shoulder.

Voice shaking, she said, “Tell me about Nonna,” and covered his hand with hers.

His eyes stared away. “Nonna went with the angels. Very peaceful.”

“Was she ill?”

He shook his head. “Only age. And there’s no cure for that. Not even your papa, the dottore, can claim one.”

Her throat tightened. “She had no pain, no suffering?”

Giuseppe’s face softened. “There is always pain when you’re old. She has none now.”

Carina sighed. “I wasn’t here.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “You are now. And you’ve brought this man.”

“My husband, Tio.”

“I heard. You caused a fuss?”

Carina nodded.

“Your mamma?”

“Papa, too.” She sank back against Quillan’s legs.

“And Flavio.” Giuseppe spread his papery hands.

She shrugged. “What do I care?” But she felt Quillan stiffen.

Giuseppe shook his head. “He will not take it lightly. The insult.”

“The insult was his,” she snapped.

Giuseppe looked at Quillan. “You watch your back, eh? They will avenge an affront to Flavio’s honor.”

Carina jerked up. “Flavio? With all his peace talk?” Did he not argue the evils of violence, decry physical force? It was his banner, yet underneath . . . No, Flavio would not—surely he would not . . .

Giuseppe spread his hands. “Talk is easy until it touches here.” He tapped a finger to his chest.

Quillan rested his hand on Carina’s shoulder. “Is Carina in danger?”

Old Giuseppe shook his head. “No. But you . . .” He pointed one finger at Quillan’s face. “You have enemies. Not only her fidanzato, but her brothers, as well.”

Carina knew that was true. Nevermind Flavio’s unfaithfulness. They were blood brothers inside. Still she couldn’t believe it would come to violence. “What can they do? Quillan is my husband. Will they make me a widow?”

Giuseppe sat back without answering. She looked up at Quillan. He met her gaze, defiant. She wet her lips. “We shouldn’t have come.”

“It’s your home.”

She shook her head. “Not if they’re going to be ugly.”

Quillan rested his hand on her head. “Don’t worry about me.”

“But you heard Tio.”

“I heard.” He stood up. “Now I need to see about my horses.” He went out.

Carina knelt before Ti’Giuseppe. “What do I do?”

He spread his hands. “Pray for God’s will.”