Firefighter's Doorstep Baby / The Soldier's Untamed Heart. Barbara McMahon
owed it to the baby to find out anything she was able to.
Even with oxygen she still used she felt as though her lungs were on fire and it was difficult to breathe. Still, things were improving—she could go several minutes without the racking coughs.
She was declared healthy enough to be discharged, with a follow-up visit scheduled for a few days later.
She hurried to the pediatric ward, limping slightly because of the stitches in her left foot. She slowed in surprise to see Cristiano staring at the babies in the nursery.
“Cristiano?”
He turned and smiled when he saw her, giving her a critical look. “How are you today?”
She coughed, then smiled as she came up to him. “Much better. Doctor said I can go home and come back in a few days for another checkup.” She looked into the nursery. “Is Dante in there?”
“No, these are newborns. Look how small they are.”
She noticed the four babies and smiled. “Dante was tiny like that when he was born. Now look how big he’s grown.”
He turned and studied her again. “You really okay or are you pushing things?”
“I really will be fine. Let’s find Dante.”
Mariella was wearing clothes lent to her by a nurse on the night shift. Her feet didn’t bother her much. The cut on the left gave her a bit of a limp, but the doctor had assured her it would heal quickly with no lasting damage. The scruffy slippers she wore needed to be replaced, too. Her mind spun with all she needed to do.
Cristiano led the way into the pediatric ward and in seconds they were in the room with the baby.
“The pediatrician made his round a short time ago,” the nurse said. “Your baby’s ready to go.” She smiled at both of them. “He’s a darling child. So attentive. But I know he misses his parents.”
In a moment Mariella stood by the crib. Dante looked up at Mariella and gave her a wide grin. Lifting his arms, he came up easily when she reached out to pick him up. She held him closely, relishing the warmth of him in her arms. Her heart swelled with love. For a moment she almost broke into tears thinking about how close she had come to losing him. He was her precious son. The last link to her dearest friend. She gave silent thanks for his safety.
She turned to Cristiano. “You did a wondrous thing saving us. How could I ever thank you?” Mariella took a deep breath, taking in the sweet scent of baby powder and baby shampoo.
“Just get well fast. I’m glad I was there.”
“And knew what to do. I don’t even want to think about what could have happened.”
“Don’t. Let’s get out of here,” he said. “I’m not a big fan of hospitals.”
As soon as they stepped outside he steered her to the black sports car parked nearby. Eying it dubiously, she asked, “Do you have a car seat for Dante?”
“The hospital is lending us one until you buy another. Then we’ll bring it back. First thing, you need some clothes. Not that the outfit you’re wearing doesn’t have a certain cachet,” he said, opening the door and pushing the passenger seat forward to access the baby’s seat.
She laughed, then broke into coughing again. “Thanks. Nothing boosts a woman’s ego more than compliments—” She stopped abruptly, before saying from a man she cares about. She had only just met the man. Taking the opportunity to end the statement while she put Dante into the carrier, she vowed to watch what she said in future.
Dante was oblivious to any tension. He babbled away in baby language and patted Mariella’s face. Tangling his fingers in Mariella’s long hair as she leaned over fastening the straps, he pulled.
“Ouch. You have to stop doing that,” Mariella said with a laugh, grabbing his little hand and kissing the fingers. “That hurts!”
“He seems in fine form,” Cristiano said.
Mariella smiled. “Seems as if no harm done. He’s not even coughing.”
Once she got Dante situated, she turned to Cristiano, so glad he’d come for her. “I have a million things to do. Are you sure you’re up for it?”
“Who else?”
She bit her lip and nodded. Who else indeed? She had no one except friends in Rome. If he was willing, she’d take all the help she could get.
“I have no identification—it burned in the fire. Along with all my money. I guess the first stop should be the bank, to see if I can get some cash.”
“If not, I’ll advance you some. Come on, it’s breezy, let’s get going.”
Fifteen minutes later Mariella sat in a branch of her bank, talking with a manger to verify her identity and get money. Dante sat in Cristiano’s lap, reaching for things on the manager’s desk. He patiently pulled him back each time.
“That takes care of that,’ the manager said as he hung up his telephone. “I’ll get my secretary to bring you the money, and a temporary check book. You’ll get imprinted checks sent to your home.”
“Thank you. I appreciate all you’ve done for me.”
The speedy transaction had been facilitated by Cristiano. The manager knew him and his family.
Once Mariella had money, Cristiano drove to a department store where she could get all she needed. He knew his way around Monta Correnti, for which she was grateful.
First purchase was a stroller for Dante, and a baby carrier. Once she no longer had to carry him, she felt better able to cope.
“Get a few things for him. I’ll watch him, then, while you get your things,” Cristiano suggested.
“You are a saint to do all this for me,” she said. “I’m not sure I could have managed on my own.”
He reached out and brushed back a lock of hair, tucking it behind her ear. The touch sent shockwaves running through her body. She smiled shyly and wanted to catch his hand and hold onto it, gaining what strength she could from him. But she kept still, treasuring the touch of his fingertips.
“You could have managed, I have no doubt. But why do it on your own?”
She nodded, knowing he’d made a special effort to help her. From comments Signora Bertatali had made, Cristiano had not left Lake Clarissa since he had arrived. She didn’t know why he made an exception for her, but she was grateful.
“Next should be food for the baby. Once he’s ready to eat, he lets everyone know in no uncertain terms—crying his head off.”
“I bow to your assessment.”
Mariella enjoyed shopping, the easy banter that grew between them. She held up baby clothes for his approval, which he gave after much mock deliberation.
“It really doesn’t matter that much,” she said, laughing at his posturing about the perfect outfit for Dante. “He’s a baby. He doesn’t know or care what he wears.”
“Hey, he’s special. He needs to make a statement—he’s cool and he knows it.”
She laughed again. Who could have suspected the devastation of the fire could lead to such a fun day-after? “I’ll be sure to take pictures so he’ll know when he’s older.”
Cristiano cocked his head at that. “Do you have a camera?”
“It burned.”
“We’ll get another.”
“All the pictures I had on it are gone, too.”
“All the more reason to make sure you start snapping new photos, so those won’t be missed.”
Her coughing was the only flaw in the day. She bought enough