The Tender Vine (Diamond of the Rockies #3)(75)

No. There was good. There had to be. She had brought distress to her family, but even in that they held together, stood as one. They were loyal to each other. It was just that she was now outside it. She dropped to her knees. “Signore, tell me what to do. I love my family. They are my people, my life. This land, this place—the moment I saw it again, my heart jumped inside me. I want to live here with my husband, raising our children.”

She swallowed the hard lump in her throat and pressed a hand to her belly. No new life had replaced the other. Her cycles were irregular, and there were times she felt a weakness all through her. Maybe it was best no life took hold. What if she couldn’t sustain it? She thought of Divina’s belly full with child. Whether Nicolo’s or Flavio’s, it didn’t matter. She would hold a baby in her arms, suckle it at her breast.

Carina’s loss overwhelmed her. She climbed onto the bed and cried. When Mamma came in, sat down, and embraced her, she wished for one moment she were a little girl again, playing with her brothers, her cousins, even Divina, who didn’t play fair. She wished she could go back in time before she knew such grief as this.

“Shh, shh.” Mamma stroked her hair.

But all Carina could think was how Quillan’s mother had done the same, and how he had remembered the feel of her hair from infancy. Mamma had to understand. “I love him, Mamma. As much as you love Papa. I had his baby inside me, but it’s dead now. They beat it out of me.” She crumpled into Mamma’s arms.

“Dear God, dear God.” Mamma rocked her.

“You have to help me. I can’t live without him.” She didn’t want to.

Mamma said nothing, but held her.

Carina pulled away. “Papa has to see.”

“It’s not only Papa.”

Carina swiped her tears. “The others will listen.”

Mamma shook her head. “Tell me why, Carina. Flavio gave you his heart, you, out of everyone he could have chosen. You know it’s true. He could have had any girl, but he loved you, loves you still.”

Carina stiffened. “He wasn’t faithful, Mamma.”

She shrugged. “So he’s young. He would settle down when his children came.”

Carina bit her lip hard to keep from saying his child was on the way. Mamma was not stupid. She knew Divina’s belly was not a four-month size. But was it possible she knew nothing of Flavio’s part?

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I have a husband.”

Mamma dropped her eyes. “Did he force you? It could be annulled if—”

“No!” Quickly she told Mamma about Berkley Beck and how Quillan had protected her from a terrible marriage. It sounded impossible, but Mamma had no experience of Crystal, of roughs, of vigilantes.

Mamma gathered her black lace shawl and tied it around her shoulders. “The marriage could be unlawful on grounds of coercion. You were forced by circumstances.”

Carina stared at her. Had she heard nothing? “Mamma.” She caught her mother’s face, made her look at her. “Quillan is my husband under God. Nothing will sever that.”

Mamma didn’t answer. She stroked Carina’s cheek, and a tear pooled in her eye. Fear filled Carina, fear of something in Mamma’s thoughts. But her mother stood up. “Why don’t you come down and eat?”

Just like that? Carina looked up. “I’m not hungry.”

Mamma shrugged. “As you like.” Willowy and graceful, she left the room.

Carina stared after her. If she had agreed to annul the marriage, would Quillan now be safe?





SEVENTEEN

Hatred:

Forged in the heart, like poisoned air it seeps, from lips and eyes finding escape. And I? I am the smith who hammers it into the hearts of those I would esteem, those I wish esteemed me.

—Quillan

QUILLAN LAID ASIDE THE JOURNAL. The room he’d found in the Union Hotel was suitable. But looking around it, he almost felt homesick for the simplicity of his tent on the creek in Crystal when he was answerable to no one but himself. He thought over the words he’d written, bitter words borne of yet another rejection. This time he had tainted Carina, as well. He closed his eyes, but her tear-streaked face was in his mind. Eyes open or closed, he saw her.

Because of him, her family resented her. How far would they go? He slammed his fist into his palm. His first thought was to run, to desert her. Wasn’t desertion grounds for annulment? Then he realized it was impossible. He had made a covenant before God. He intended to keep it.

So the only thing to do was what he said before. He had to learn to be Italian. The thought sent a flicker of amusement, which was quickly quenched. Too much rested on it. But then, how did he know he wasn’t? Wolf ’s people could have been from Italy. What’s to say they weren’t? Carina’s father was fair, blue eyed. Joseph and Lorenzo, as well. Maybe Wolf ’s golden hair and gray eyes came from the same stock. But he was being fanciful.

Quillan stretched his legs out on the bed and thought of Carina and her family. How had he seemed to them? He was educated, yes; possessed extraordinary memory. And he had money, plenty of it. But the flood had taught him that didn’t make the man. And he knew that even if he had named the amount, Carina’s family would have rejected him. He was flawed. He must be.

Quillan lay back and stared at the ceiling. Maybe Mrs. Shepard had it right. She had seen his deficiency. No matter what he did, it would be there. The DeMornays had seen it, the railroad detectives, too. And now the DiGratias. But that would not stop him. Quillan closed his eyes and pictured the room full of DiGratia men, Carina’s father and brothers. One day he would stand among them, if not welcome then respected. His chest rose and fell. He owed Carina that much.