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Mariella flung one arm around his neck. “I was asleep. Cristiano woke me up. How could the fire start?” She coughed again so hard, he almost dropped her.
“Try to take a deep slow breath. You’re suffering from smoke inhalation.”
“I don’t know how this could happen. Oh, my dear, when I realized it was our cottage I feared the worst. Paolo has gone to help the firefighters. We’ll know more after they tell us. Come, inside where it’s warm. Did you leave the stove on or something?” Signora Bertatali asked, leading the way to her home. The warmth after the cold dawn felt wonderful. The baby stopped crying when in the light, blinking around, still looking as if he’d begin again in an instant.
“No. I turned it off after dinner,” Mariella said.
“Oh, your poor feet. They’re cut. Let me get some cloths and towels and take care of that,” Signora Bertatali exclaimed, hurrying into the back bathroom, still jiggling the baby, trying to comfort him.
“I had to break a window to get into the bedroom. The living room was engulfed with flames when I arrived,” Cristiano said, lowering Mariella down on a chair and kneeling in front of her to examine her feet as she began coughing again. She drew his jacket closer. A deep cut with a glass shard still in her left foot was bleeding; there were minor cuts on her right foot that had already stopped.
“This looks as if it needs stitches,” he said, taking one of the towels Signora Bertatali brought and, after pulling the glass out, wrapped her foot.
The next while was chaotic. More volunteers arrived. Then the ambulance from Monta Correnti. Mariella and Dante were loaded up and taken to hospital while Cristiano stayed behind.
“I’ll come to the hospital soon,” he said as they drove away.
Now that the situation was under control, he watched from a distance until the fire was out. The adrenalin was wearing off. He could hear Stephano calling him. Feel the darkness closing in even as the sun broke on the horizon.
Retrieving his motorcycle, he roared off once more—trying to outrace the past.
Chapter Three
MARIELLA braced herself against another bump as the ambulance sped toward the hospital. Dante cried until she picked him up to cuddle, trying to hold him around the oxygen nodules they both wore. He grew quiet at that and snuggled against Mariella. “Oh, sweet thing, we almost died.” Tears pricked her eyes. She caught a sob. How could the cottage catch fire? And why had there been no alarms to alert them of the danger before it was too late? The first she’d known of the emergency was when she heard Cristiano calling her name. Smoke had filled their room and she’d almost passed out trying to get out of bed and to safety. Breathing had been almost impossible.
The next thing she remembered was stumbling into the yard with Cristiano while Dante cried. Thank God he was safe. They both were.
Her head pounded and her eyes watered again. Coughing, she felt she could not draw a full breath. A weight seemed pressed against her chest.
“We’ll have you to hospital in just a short while. They’ll bathe your eyes and continue the oxygen until morning,” the EMT said, handing her a tissue to wipe the tears.
The baby had settled down, looked as if he was going back to sleep. She kissed his cheek, so grateful. Mariella wished she could drop off as he did and forget everything—if only for a few hours. Who would think such things happened while on holiday?
Once they reached the hospital, nurses swarmed around the ambulance. One gently took the baby, promising to take good care of him as she whisked him away to be seen by a doctor. Another helped Mariella into a wheelchair and pushed her quickly into the ER. It was quiet except for the two of them. In a short while a doctor had cleaned the cuts and stitched up the one on her left foot.
“Where’s my baby?” she asked.
“He’s in Pediatrics, on oxygen. A pediatrician has checked him out. Except for smoke inhalation, he seems fine. You can see him soon.”
Mariella nodded. She already missed him. She needed to see again that he was all right. But patience was called for. For the first time she had a moment to think. Cristiano had saved them. She had no idea how he’d happened to be there, but she thanked God he had been. He was a hero. Without his intervention, she and Dante could have died.
After she’d been seen by the doctor, she was conveyed to a semi-private room by way of the pediatric ward. Once satisfied Dante was safely asleep, she allowed herself to be taken to her own room where she insisted she could bathe herself. After a quick shower, she gladly lay down, with oxygen, and tried to sleep—but the horrors of the night haunted her. What if Cristiano hadn’t arrived? She and the baby could have been burned to death. What had caused the fire? What had brought Cristiano there at exactly the right time? It was much, much later before she fell into a fitful sleep.
Mariella stood by the window of the hospital room in the late morning gazing at the beauty before her. The gardens of the hospital gave way to the view of rolling hills that gave this area so much of its beauty. She knew the lake lay beyond her view. From her vantage point she saw only the edge of a bustling town and the distant serene countryside. The village was hidden behind a fold in the hills and no trace of smoke marred the crystal-blue sky.
Everyone went along with their daily lives. She had lost clothes and her laptop. And her photo of Ariana. Dante had only the sleeper he wore when they were rescued. Her livelihood depended on connections with her clients. She had to get another computer soon. She had backup files at home, so wouldn’t totally start from the beginning. But this would certainly put a crimp in things.
The few hours’ sleep she’d managed made her feel refreshed. She needed her wits about her to get back on track. Maybe she should consider returning to Rome immediately. But she wasn’t sure when she’d have another break in her workload to look for Dante’s father. If she didn’t do some checking now, people would forget. Maybe they already had. But she 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 clothes to take care of a few days, shoes that didn’t hurt her foot, and cosmetics—a definite necessity when she saw her face in the mirror. She probably should think about returning home to Rome. But she was enjoying every moment with Cristiano. She didn’t want to think about being practical just yet.
Cristiano stood outside the dressing room, waiting for Mariella. Dante had been fed, changed, and was now asleep in the stroller. Idly he pushed it back and forth, but the baby didn’t need soothing, he was out for his nap.
Glancing around the department store, he noted he was the only man, except for an elderly gentleman talking with his wife. If he’d ever suspected he’d be watching a baby this October day, that would have surprised him. Yet he couldn’t imagine letting Mariella and Dante face this alone.
She came out of the dressing room wearing jeans that should have been banned—they made her figure look downright hot. The long-sleeve pink top highlighted her coloring and made her eyes seem even brighter silver. He could look at her all day. It wasn’t just her looks that made it easy on the eyes. Her innate optimism shone from her eyes. He wished he could capture some of that for himself.
“Okay, I’ve gotten all I need, just have to pay for everything,” she said, with a bright smile at him and a quick check for Dante.
“I’ll be right here,” he said, watching with appreciation as she walked away. Those freckles across her nose called to him. He wondered if she liked them. He’d heard from his sister when growing up that most women did not want freckles. He found them enticing. In fact, the more he saw of Mariella, the more he found enticing. She was pretty, sexy, and nurturing. He liked watching her with Dante. The baby seemed as fascinated with her as Cristiano was. “Probably a male thing,” he murmured to the sleeping baby.
“All set,” she said a moment later.
“Let’s eat. You have to be hungry after all this and I know I am.”
“Great. Where? Oh, dumb question, you probably always eat at your family restaurant.”
Cristiano felt the comment like a slap. He had not been to Rosa for a long time. He’d been avoiding his cosseting family as much as he could, not wanting their sympathy over his injuries, and especially not wanting them to learn of his torment.
Excuses surged to mind. “I thought we’d eat closer to where we are. Rosa is across town. Then we need to get you two back to Lake Clarissa.”
“Why? Where am I going to stay?”
“You could stay with me,” he said. Then stared at her as the words echoed. Was he totally crazy? He’d been avoiding people to keep quiet about the flashbacks. He could not have anyone stay at the cottage. The first night he had a nightmare, the secret would be revealed.
“Thank you, really, but I can’t stay with you. If the Bertatalis have another cabin available, maybe I’ll stay a bit longer. I probably ought to return to Rome.”
“Don’t go.”
He felt the intensity of her gaze. He could almost feel her mind working as she considered staying.
“Maybe for a few more days. I have no picture of Ariana to show around, few clothes, no computer.”
“I have one you can use.”
She slowly smiled. It was all Cristiano could do to refrain from leaning over and kissing her right in the middle of the department store. He caught his breath and forced himself to look away. Had he gone completely round the bend? He’d never felt such a strong desire to kiss a woman before. Obviously complete isolation was driving him more crazy than he already was.
“Then I’ll stay for a few more days.”
A man in his situation couldn’t ask for more than that. At least not yet.
When Cristiano drove into the village by the lake, Mariella felt her stress level rise. The horror of the fire rose the closer they got to the resort. She wondered if she could ever fall asleep without fearing a fire would consume her lodgings.
He stopped the car near the Bertatalis’ residence. The charred remains of the cottage could be seen clearly in the daylight. How had the fire started?
