The Tender Vine (Diamond of the Rockies #3)(86)

Her jaw dropped softly as understanding dawned. She shook her head slightly. “I hadn’t thought. I’d thought only of your safety.”

At least he had that. She’d thought of him first. But now he saw the struggle inside her. “I don’t . . . I can’t—Quillan, I can’t have his death on my conscience. He’s my . . . I’ve known him forever.” She turned away. “I don’t condone his actions, but . . .”

“That’s all I needed to know.” And the gun would stay stowed in his room. That limited his odds, but he would not harm someone who mattered to Carina. His gut twisted. Of course Flavio mattered. He was one of them. And he’d been more, much more to her than any of the others. For Flavio, she’d left her family. Quillan turned away and buttoned his shirt.

Carina walked listlessly to the basin and bathed her face and hands. She dug her finger into his toothpowder and ran it over her teeth.

He grinned. “You could have used the brush.”

She shrugged, more crestfallen than he’d expected.

“Carina, it’ll be all right.”

She turned. “Oh sì. And chickens lay golden eggs.”

“Well, if they did we’d not have scrambled or fried, would we?” He caught her hands. “Get dressed. I’m walking you back to the house.”

“You are?”

“I am. And I’m asking permission to court you.”

Her breath came out in a little huff. “Asking Papa?”

“Unless you think Giuseppe’ll do. My chances are better there.” He pulled on his pants.

She stamped her foot. “Stop making fun.”

“I’m not.” He sat on the bed and tied on his brogans.

It took Carina longer to dress, but she had more layers, ties, and buttons. When she was finished, they went out together. Quillan stopped at the desk. “If Mr. Schocken comes asking for me, tell him I’ve taken my wife home, and I’ll be to the quarry directly.”

The clerk raised his eyebrows. “I will.” Then to Carina, “Good day, er, Mrs. . . .”

Carina smiled. “Good day, Mr. Renault.”

The mist was thick and chilly, collecting on Quillan’s face like a mask. Carina’s hair pearled with tiny droplets by the time they reached the livery just next door. Quillan shook the moisture from his own hair. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was raining.”

“It will be soon.” Carina ran her hands back over her hair as they stepped inside.

“I don’t have a cover.”

“I can stand a little rain.” She nudged him with her hip. “I won’t melt.”

Quillan called for his wagon and team. “It’s not that you’ll melt. I don’t want to return you looking like a drowned kitten. Hold on a minute.” He went back and helped the liveryman harness his team, checking the animals and giving Jock a pat as he crossed to the bed. He pulled out his extra tarp. It was an ungainly cover at best, but he’d used it a time or two.

“Fine animals.” The man said.

“Yep.” Quillan laid the canvas tarp on the seat. Once he had Carina seated he’d arrange it.

“What did you say your name was?”

Quillan turned. “Quillan Shepard.”

“Well, Mr. Shepard, if you ever look to sell them, look here first.” The man held out his hand. “Corbaley’s the name.”

Quillan shook. “Well, I don’t imagine I’ll be looking to sell. These animals have been with me awhile, except for the gelding. Picked that one up when I lost this black’s twin.”

“A real twin?”

Quillan nodded. “Lost him in an avalanche.”

“Darn shame.”

Quillan felt a twinge, but the ache had passed. Together they led horses and wagon to the doors where Carina waited.

“I’ll be with you in a moment, Miss DiGratia,” Corbaley said.

“Actually, she’s with me.” Quillan gave Carina a hand into the box that replaced the spring seat. “And it’s Mrs. Shepard.”

“Well.” Corbaley smiled. “I hadn’t heard. Felicitations.”

Quillan had to smile. If only. He mounted the box and snapped the lines. They lurched forward and he remembered the canvas. “Pull that canvas up over you, Carina.”

She did, and it tented her well enough. When they arrived at the DiGratia house, Quillan stopped outside the courtyard. The gates were closed, but he jumped down and unfastened the wrought-iron catch. Instead of taking the team and wagon in, he helped Carina down and gave her his arm. Together they walked through the courtyard to the door.

Dr. DiGratia opened it himself, reading the situation clearly enough. His frown was infused with indignation and grudging respect. He had to know Quillan could have kept her.

Quillan spoke first. “Dr. DiGratia, I’d like permission to see my wife.”

“See?” He quirked one arched eyebrow.

“See.” Let him read into that anything he liked.

Carina’s father stood a long time without speaking. Then he said, “It was also for your sake that I denied you before. You’re the cause of a broken contract.”

“The contract was broken before me, with better cause.”