Miracle for the Girl Next Door / Mother of the Bride: Miracle for the Girl Next Door. Rebecca Winters
squinted at him. “I knew you’d say that, but I have nowhere else to turn.” He stared at the priest. “What do you know about Clara Rossetti?”
In the quiet that followed, a sadness entered Father Orsini’s eyes and he pursed his lips, giving Valentino the answer. Fresh pain arced through him as surely as if he’d crashed on the track and the paramedics couldn’t separate his body from the wreckage.
The compassionate priest put a hand on Valentino’s shoulder. “She doesn’t want to die and is fighting this with everything she has in her.”
Valentino’s body trembled. “I know. I’ve been with her every day since I came home. She’s so courageous, I’m in awe of her.”
“You two were very close growing up.”
A sob got trapped in his throat. “Very. I don’t want her to die, Father.”
“Of course you don’t. After being away such a long time, this news must have come as a great shock.”
Shock hardly covered it. Shame for his narcissistic lifestyle had seeped into his soul. Up to now Valentino had lived only for his own pleasures. He’d avoided marriage and children in order to pursue new adventures without suffering any more guilt than he already dragged around.
In the process he’d pretty well abandoned his family, not to mention Clara. Valentino wasn’t only selfish, he was a coward unwilling to face certain unpalatable truths. After his aunt Lisa had leaked the latest family secret, his first instinct had been to run away and stay in denial. That had been his pattern over the years.
That was the mortifying part. After spending time with him during their growing-up years, Clara had become so well acquainted with his self-focused obsessions, she’d written him off when he’d left in his late teens. And why not?
What had he ever done for her?
His hands curled into fists.
Nothing! Not a damn thing!
It strained his credulity that she’d given him the time of day since he’d been back. While he’d been off in his superficial world, angry at life while he tried to break barriers and set new bars, she had been battling for her life!
Somewhere in his psyche Valentino had known there’d be a price to pay for always running away, for always taking without giving anything back. He just hadn’t expected it to come now, in this particular form. Clara, more than any other human being, had shown him unqualified friendship, but he hadn’t realized or understood until it was too late.
“I can see you’re in pain, my son.”
“I want to help her, but I don’t know where to begin.”
“She could use a good friend.”
Something he hadn’t been.
“Is there anything else you’d like to discuss with me?”
Valentino shook his head. “No, grazier.” He had quite enough on his plate and had said more than he should already. Calling on the priest this late at night constituted a special act of selfishness all its own, the kind for which Valentino was famous.
Luca’s “famous” son who really wasn’t his son. The negative connotation fit.
“I’ve intruded on your time long enough. Thank you for seeing me, Father. Buona notte.” He started down the stairs.
“Don’t be such a stranger!” the old priest called after him.
Valentino deserved that particular distinction, too. A stranger was one who was neither a friend nor an acquaintance. Those who knew his name would say that pretty well summed up his existence.
He waved to the priest from the lowered window of the car before he headed back to the villa. His black thoughts drove him to the kitchen where he made a pot of strong coffee. On an empty stomach the caffeine was guaranteed to keep him wired for the rest of the night. He did his best thinking when he prowled around in the dark.
The priest’s words wouldn’t leave him alone. She could use a good friend.
That meant making a commitment you didn’t break.
For the rest of the night Valentino searched his soul. By the time morning came eight hours later, he’d determined Clara Rossetti would discover how good a friend he could be, even if she didn’t believe it right now.
CHAPTER FIVE
“VALENTINO has come for me, Mamma. We’re driving to Gaeta. Just so you know, I’ve come to a decision. After today, I won’t be seeing him anymore. He knows I’m dying, and he’ll respect my wishes.”
Her mother let out a heavy sigh and stopped stirring the sauce she was cooking. “I’m glad to hear it, for his sake as well as yours. And I’ll tell you something else. You’re not going to die if I can help it! The doctor has assured me they’re doing everything to find the right donor for you. God hears me beg for your life every minute of the day and night.”
Clara lowered her head, humbled by her mother’s love. The doctor had told them they needed a miracle, but she knew that even if a kidney became available from a non-relative, there was always the possibility her body would reject it.
“See you later, Mamma.” She hugged her mother, then hurried outside to the old truck. Valentino got out of the cab wearing the same straw hat. When she drew closer, he flashed her a broad smile.
“Buon giorno, piccola.” He was hiding something behind his back.
“What have you got there?”
“You need a disguise, too,” he said before putting a matching hat on her head. “You look very fetching with it perched at that angle. From a distance we’ll look like an old farming couple taking a break after a busy morning.”
She loved it! They left the farm and headed in the direction of the coast. The truck made for slow going, but she felt very much at home in it. The Rossettis didn’t drive anything but trucks.
They ate some plums he brought and made desultory conversation while they drove through the enchanting countryside. Clara felt so carefree and relaxed that in time she found her eyelids drooping and fought to stay awake.
Nestling against the door, she closed her eyes, telling herself it would only be for a moment. The next time she became aware of her surroundings, she was cognizant of two things: the tangy smell of the Mediterranean and the feel of Valentino’s hard-muscled arm against her cheek and shoulder. He’d always smelled so good. It had to be from the soap he used in the shower.
“Oh—I’m sorry—” She sat up horribly embarrassed that she’d been asleep for an hour with her arm against him. Her hat was askew. How was it she’d ended up pressed to the side of his fit body instead of the door? Looking straight ahead, she glimpsed the Gulf of Gaeta spread out before her like a sparkling blue jewel in the sunlight.
Valentino had removed his sunglasses and cast her a sideward glance. “Why apologize? You needed your sleep. I’m hungry and presume you are, too.”
“I am.” Food had never sounded so good to her before.
“After we eat, we’ll take a walk on the beach if it’s warm enough for you and you’re up to it.”
Mentally she was up for everything he suggested, but her body had other ideas. Still she wouldn’t think negative thoughts right now, not when this would be her last outing with him. Certainly not when they were passing through hills of rich green vegetation where she spied a fabulous pink hotel surrounded by palm trees and a fabulous garden. “I remember that place from before! Didn’t you tell me it was once a monastery?”
“You have an excellent memory. It’s the Villa Irlanda. I thought we’d eat by the pool where there’s a view of the coast. I was in too big a hurry to stop here last time.