The Soldier's Secret Child
Lee Tobin McClain
Duty-bound DadFormer soldier Vito D’Angelo has come home with a foster son—and a secret that could devastate his comrade’s lovely widow. Lacey McPherson is Vito’s childhood friend and the last person he wants to hurt. But as their friendship turns to more, the truth grows harder to reveal. Lacey’s trying to renovate her guesthouse and build a peaceful single life. Yet letting ruggedly handsome Vito and young Charlie stay on her property awakens a longing for the family she’s sure she’ll never have. But it may open the door to a loving future…if the one-time boy next door proves to be just the man she needs…Rescue River: Making forever families
Duty-bound Dad
Former soldier Vito D’Angelo has come home with a foster son—and a secret that could devastate his comrade’s lovely widow. Lacey McPherson is Vito’s childhood friend and the last person he wants to hurt. But as their friendship turns to more, the truth grows harder to reveal. Lacey’s trying to renovate her guesthouse and build a peaceful single life. Yet letting ruggedly handsome Vito and young Charlie stay on her property awakens a longing for the family she’s sure she’ll never have. But it may open the door to a loving future...if the onetime boy next door proves to be just the man she needs...
“Tongues are wagging. It is Rescue River.”
“Gossip central,” he agreed.
“And speaking of wagging tongues,” she said, “imagine what people will assume if you come and live in the guesthouse. They’ll think we’re a couple. I’m not comfortable with that.”
“I understand.” He looked down at his hands, traced a scar that peeked out from his shirt cuff. “I’m not exactly a blue-ribbon bronco.”
“Vito!” She sounded exasperated. “You haven’t changed a bit since you had to try on six different shirts for the homecoming dance.”
“That was a long time ago. And the truth is, I have changed.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re still good-looking, okay? Women don’t mind scars.” Then she pressed her lips together as her cheeks grew pink.
His heart rate accelerated just a little. Why was she blushing? Did she think he was good-looking?
But of course, she hadn’t seen the worst of his scars.
And even if there was a little spark between them, it couldn’t go anywhere. Because he was living with a secret he couldn’t let her discover.
Dear Reader (#u3d5901b1-f0bb-5520-b0ed-d7e852b905df),
Thank you for coming with me on another visit to Rescue River! Lacey has been a part of the Rescue River community from the beginning. Most recently, she was part of Buck and Gina’s story, when she reluctantly provided shelter to the struggling single mom. Once everyone else found happiness, it was only fair that Lacey should find love, too...and Vito, the romantic Italian, seemed like just the right man to bring out Lacey’s tender side.
Both Vito and Lacey carry scars and baggage from the past. Don’t we all? Fortunately, our heavenly father forgives our mistakes and leads us to be new creations in Christ. He can even soften a heart of stone.
Visit my website, www.leetobinmcclain.com (http://www.leetobinmcclain.com), and sign up for my newsletter to keep track of all the news from Rescue River.
Wishing you a happy summer filled with many books!
Lee
LEE TOBIN McCLAIN read Gone with the Wind in the third grade and has been a hopeless romantic ever since. When she’s not writing angst-filled love stories with happy endings, she’s getting inspiration from her church singles group, her gymnastics-obsessed teenage daughter and her rescue dog and cat. In her day job, Lee gets to encourage aspiring romance writers in Seton Hill University’s low-residency MFA program. Visit her at leetobinmcclain.com (http://www.leetobinmcclain.com).
The Soldier’s Secret Child
Lee Tobin McClain
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.
—Ezekiel 36:26
To my daughter, Grace, who shows me
every day that families aren’t about bloodlines;
they’re about heart.
Contents
Cover (#u467d0c98-7d85-5808-9e69-b39c3906b5da)
Back Cover Text (#u62a89245-1c0c-580a-94a3-76ea775cc2b2)
Introduction (#uee39f159-6cbc-59bf-908c-d90932b2b454)
Dear Reader (#u957d225f-42ff-5b45-8c1e-fef4a661ba6a)
About the Author (#u9ba6111d-a937-55de-8892-bcf179486ae8)
Title Page (#u288a4f58-b1ca-5425-b662-caa7955c5ff4)
Bible Verse (#u77ecb140-e7c2-5109-8140-ce1c2127c24f)
Dedication (#u89030e31-af82-5ae3-812e-cac842faaa23)
Chapter One (#ueb81240e-c2f7-5511-9993-174c68d60ba3)
Chapter Two (#uc4653a2a-ab6a-54d9-84ec-f5b36da6f407)
Chapter Three (#u7dbbd1b1-6967-520b-9425-fc3bd8eac676)
Chapter Four (#u3581519b-d49b-518f-bd44-5c1e58dab73a)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u3d5901b1-f0bb-5520-b0ed-d7e852b905df)
Lacey McPherson leaned back, propped her hands on the low white picket fence and surveyed the wedding reception before her with satisfaction. She’d pulled it off.
She’d given her beloved brother and his bride a wedding reception to remember, not letting her own antiromance attitude show. But she had to admit she’d be glad when her half-remodeled guesthouse stopped being a nest for lovebirds.
“Nothing like a spring wedding, eh, Lacey?”
She jumped, startled at the sound of the gruff, familiar voice right behind her. She spun around. “Vito D’Angelo, you scared me!” And then her eyes widened and she gasped. “What happened?”
His warm brown eyes took her back to her teen years. She’d been such a dreamer then, not good at navigating high school drama, and her brother’s friend had stepped in more than once to defend her from girls who wanted to gossip or boys who tried to take advantage. She and her brother had welcomed invitations to the D’Angelo family’s big, loud Italian dinners.
But now the most noticeable thing about his face wasn’t his eyes, but the double scar that ran from his forehead to his jawline. A smaller scar slashed from his lower lip to his chin.
Instinctively she reached out toward his face.
He caught her hand, held it. “I know. I look bad. But you should see the other guy.”
His attempt at a joke made her hurt more than it made her laugh. “You don’t look bad. It’s just...wow, they barely missed your eye.” Awkwardly, she tried to hug him with the fence in between.
He broke away and came inside through the open gate. “How’re you doing, Lace? At least you’re still gorgeous, huh? But you’re too thin.”
“You sound just like your grandma. And you’re late for the wedding.” Her heart was still racing from the surprise, both of seeing him and of how he looked.
She wanted to find out what had happened. But this wasn’t the time or the place.
“Buck won’t mind my being late. He looks busy.” Vito looked past the wedding guests toward Lacey’s brother, laughing and talking in the summer sun, his arm slung around his new bride. “Looks happy, too. Glad he found someone.”
A slightly wistful quality in Vito’s words made Lacey study her old friend. She hadn’t seen him in almost ten years, not since he’d brought his army buddy home on a furlough and Lacey had fallen hard for the handsome stranger who’d quickly become her husband. Back then, after one very stormy conversation, Vito had faded into the background. He’d been in the firestorm that had killed Gerry, had tried to save him and had written to Lacey after Gerry’s death. But he’d continued on with another Iraq tour and then another. She’d heard he’d been injured, had undergone a lot of surgery and rehab.
Looking at him now, she saw that he’d filled out from slim to brawny, and his hair curled over his ears, odd for a career military man. “How long are you home?”
“For good. I’m out of the army.”
“Out?” She stared. “Why? That was all you ever wanted to do!” She paused. “Just like Gerry.”
“I felt awful I didn’t make his funeral.” He put an arm around her shoulders and tugged her to his side. “Aw, Lace, I’m sorry about all of it.”
Her throat tightened and she nodded. Gerry had been dead for a year and a half, but the loss still ached.
A shout went up from the crowd and something came hurtling toward her. Instinctively she put her hands up, but Vito stepped in front of her, catching the missile.
Immediately, he turned and handed it to her.
A bouquet of flowers? Why would someone...
Oh. The bouquet. Gina’s.
She looked across the crowd at her friend, glowing in her pearl-colored gown. Gina kept encouraging Lacey to date again. Happily in love, she wanted everyone to share in the same kind of joy.
The crowd’s noise had quieted, and some of the guests frowned and murmured. Probably because Gina had obviously targeted Lacey, who’d been widowed less than two years ago. One of the older guests shook her head. “Completely inappropriate,” she said, loud enough for most of those nearby to hear.
Well, that wouldn’t do. Gina was a Californian, relatively new to Ohio and still finding her way through the unspoken rules and rituals of the Midwest. She hadn’t meant to do anything wrong.
Lacey forced a laugh and shook the bouquet threateningly at Gina. “You’re not going to get away with this, you know,” she said, keeping her tone light. “I’m passing it on to...” She looked around. “To my friend Daisy.”
“Too late.” Daisy waved a finger in front of her face and backed away. “You caught it.”
“Actually, Vito caught it,” old Gramps Camden said. “Not sure what happens when a man catches the bouquet.”
As the crowd went back to general talk, Lacey tried to hand off the bouquet to all the females near her, but they all laughingly refused.
Curious about Vito’s reaction, she turned to joke with him, but he was gone.
* * *
Later, after Gina and Buck had run out to Buck’s shaving-cream-decorated truck, heads down against a hail of birdseed, Lacey gave cleanup instructions to the two high school girls who were helping her with the reception. Then, after making sure that the remaining guests were well fed and happy, she went into the guesthouse. She needed to check on Nonna D’Angelo.
Having Nonna stay here was working out great. The light nursing care she needed was right up Lacey’s alley, and she enjoyed the older woman’s company. And the extra bit of income Nonna insisted on paying had enabled Lacey to quit her job at the regional hospital. Now that the wedding was over, she could dive into the final stages of readying the guesthouse for its fall opening.
Nonna D’Angelo had mingled during the early part of the reception, but she’d gone inside to rest more than an hour ago. Now Lacey heard the older woman crying and hastened her step, but then a reassuring male voice rumbled and the crying stopped.
Vito.
Of course, he’d come in to see his grandma first thing. He hadn’t been home in over a year, and they’d always been close.
She’d just take a quick peek to make sure Nonna wasn’t getting overexcited, and then leave them to their reunion.
Slowly, she strolled down the hall to the room she’d made up for Nonna D, keeping her ears open, giving them time. She surveyed the glossy wood floors with satisfaction. The place was coming along. She’d redo this wallpaper sometime, but the faded roses weren’t half-bad for now. Gave the place its historical character.
She ran her hand along the long, thin table she’d just bought for the entryway, straightened her favorite, goofy ceramic rooster and a vase of flowers. Mr. Whiskers jumped up onto the table, and Lacey stopped to rub his face and ears, evoking a purr. “Where’s the Missus, huh?” she cooed quietly. “Is she hiding?”
Hearing another weepy sniffle from Nonna D, Lacey quickened her step and stopped in the doorway of Nonna’s room.
“My beautiful boy,” Nonna was saying with a catch in her voice. “You were always the good-looking one.”
Vito sat on the edge of the bed, looking distinctly uncomfortable as Nonna sat up in bed to inspect his cheek and brush his hair back behind his ears.
She felt a quick defensiveness on Vito’s behalf. Sure, the scars were noticeable. But to Lacey, they added to his rugged appeal.
Nonna saw her and her weathered face broke into a smile, her eyes sparkling behind large glasses. “There’s my sweet girl. Come in and see my boy Vito.”
“We talked already, Nonna.” Vito was rubbing the back of his neck. “Lacey, I didn’t realize you were taking care of my grandma to this extent. I’ll take her home tomorrow.”
“Oh, no!” Lacey said. “I’m so happy to do it!”
“I can’t go home!” Nonna said at the same time.
“Why not?” Vito looked from Nonna to Lacey and back again.
“I need my nursing help,” Nonna explained. “Lacey, here, is a wonderful nurse. She’s practically saved my life!”
Lacey’s cheeks burned. “I’m really a Certified Nursing Assistant, not a nurse,” she explained. “And I haven’t done anything special, just helped with medications and such.” In truth, she knew she’d helped Nonna D’Angelo with the mental side as well as the physical, calming her anxiety and making sure she ate well, arranging some outings and visits so the woman didn’t sink into the depression so common among people with her health issues.
“Medications? What’s wrong?”
“It’s my heart,” Nonna started to explain.
Vito had the nerve to chuckle. “Oh, now, Nonna. You’ve been talking about your heart for twenty years, and you never needed a nurse before.”
“Things are different now.” The older woman’s chin quivered.
He reached out and patted her arm. “You’ll be fine.”
Lacey drew in a breath. Should she intervene? Families were sometimes in denial about the seriousness of a beloved relative’s health problems, and patients sometimes shielded their families from the truth.
“If you want to move your grandma, that’s fine,” she said, “but I’d recommend waiting a couple more weeks.”
“That’s right.” Nonna looked relieved. “Lacey needs the money and I need the help.”
Vito frowned. “Can we afford this?” He looked down at his grandma and seemed to realize that the woman was getting distressed. “Tell you what, Grandma, Lacey and I will talk about this and figure some things out. I won’t leave without saying goodbye.”
“All right, dear.” She shot a concerned glance at Lacey.
She leaned down in the guise of straightening a pillow for Nonna. “I’ll explain everything,” she reassured her.
She led the way to the front room, out of earshot from Nonna D’Angelo. Then she turned to Vito, frowning. “You don’t think I’m taking advantage of your grandma, do you?”
“No!” He reached for her, but when she took a step back, he crossed his arms instead. “I would never think that, Lacey. I know you. I just don’t know if you’ve thought this through.”
She restrained an eye roll. “You always did like to interfere when your help wasn’t needed.”
“Look, if this is about that talk we had years back...” He waved a dismissive hand. “Let’s just forget that.”
She knew exactly what he meant. As soon as Vito had found out Gerry had proposed, he’d come storming over to her house and pulled her out onto the front porch to try and talk her out of it. “You were wrong,” she said now.
“I wasn’t wrong.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he held up a hand. “But I was wrong to interfere.”
That wasn’t exactly what she’d said, but whatever.
“But back to my grandma. I don’t know what her insurance is like, but I know it hardly ever covers in-home nursing care. I’m living on limited means and until I get back on my feet—”
“It’s handled. It’s fine.”
He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. “She’s always tended to be a hypochondriac—”
“A heart attack is nothing to take lightly.”
“A heart attack?” Vito’s jaw dropped. “Nonna had a heart attack?”
His surprise was so genuine that her annoyance about what she’d thought was neglect faded away. “About two weeks ago. She didn’t tell you?”
“No, she didn’t tell me. Do you think I’d have stayed away if I’d known?” His square jaw tightened. “Not a word. How bad was it?”
Lacey spread her hands. “Look, I’m just a CNA. You should definitely talk to her doctor.”
“But from what you’ve seen, give me a guess.”
Outside, she could hear people talking quietly. Dishes rattled in the kitchen, the girls cleaning up. She blew out a breath. “It was moderate severity. She had some damage, and there are some restrictions on what she can do. Changes she needs to make.”
“What kind of changes?” He thrust his hands in his pockets and paced. “I can’t believe she had a heart attack and I didn’t know. Why didn’t you call me?”
“It’s her business what she tells people.”
His mouth twisted to one side. “C’mon, Lace.”
“I’m serious. Patients have the right to confidentiality. I couldn’t breach that. In fact,” she said, stricken, “I probably shouldn’t have told you even now.”
“You’re my friend. You can tell me as a friend. Now, what kind of changes? What does she need to do to get back on her feet?”
She perched on the arm of an overstuffed chair. “You can probably guess. It’s a lot about diet. She needs to start a gentle exercise program. I have her walking around the block twice a day.”
He stared. “Nonna’s walking? Like, for exercise?”
“I know, right?” She smiled a little. “It wasn’t easy to talk her into it. I make sure we have an interesting destination.”
“How did you get so involved?”
She let her forehead sink down into her hand for just a second, then looked back up. Vito. He’d never take her seriously. He’d always been a big brother to her, and he always would be.
He held up a hand. “I’m not questioning it, Lacey. I’m grateful. And I feel awful having been out of the loop, not helping her. I’ve had lots of personal stuff going on, but that’s no excuse.”
His words flicked on a switch of interest in her, but she ignored it. “I worked her hall at the hospital, and since she knew me, we talked. She was worried about coming home alone, but she didn’t want to bother you, and your brother’s far away. I was looking to make a change, anyway, moving toward freelance home care so I could have time to finish renovating this place.” She waved an arm toward the unfinished breakfast area, currently walled off with sheets of plastic.
“So you made a deal with her.” He still sounded a little skeptical.
“Yes, if that’s what you want to call it.” She stood, full of restless energy, and paced over to the fireplace, rearranging the collection of colored glass bottles on the mantel. “She’s had a lot of anxiety, which is common in people recovering from a heart attack. She’s on several new medications, and one of them causes fatigue and dizziness. The social worker was going to insist on having her go to a nursing home for proper care, which she couldn’t afford, so this was a good arrangement.” She looked over at him, mentally daring him to question her.
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “A nursing home. Wow.”
“It wouldn’t have suited her.”
“For how long? How long do you think she’ll need the extra care?”
Lacey shrugged, moved an amber bottle to better catch the sun. “I don’t know. Usually people take a couple of months to get back up to speed. And your brother’s happy to pay for as long as we need.”
Vito’s dark eyebrows shot up. “She told him and not me?”
“She said you’d find out soon enough, when you came back home.”
“And he’s paying for everything?”
“He felt bad, being so far away, and apparently he begged her to let him help. Look, if you want to make a change in her care, I totally understand.” It would mess up her own plans, of course; she’d given notice at the hospital only when she had this job to see her through, so if Nonna left, she’d have to apply for a part-time job right away. But Nonna was improving daily. If she had Vito with her, and he could focus on her needs, she’d probably be fine. A lot of her anxiety and depression stemmed from loneliness and fear.
Truth was, Lacey had found the older woman a hedge against her own loneliness, as her brother had gotten more and more involved in his wedding plans.
Now Buck and Gina and their dogs would be living in a little cottage on the other side of town. She’d see them a lot, but it wouldn’t be the same as having Buck living here. “Whatever you decide,” she said. “For now, we’d better go reassure your grandma, and then I need to attend to the rest of my guests.”
* * *
Vito followed Lacey back into his grandmother’s room, his mind reeling. Nonna had mostly raised him and his brother, Eugene, after their parents’ accident, and she was one of the few family members he had left. More to the point, he was one of her only family members, and he should have been here for her.
Everyone treated him like he was made of glass, but the fact was, he was perfectly healthy on the inside. His surgeries had been a success, and his hearing loss was corrected with state-of-the-art hearing aids, courtesy of the VA.
He just looked bad.
And while the scars that slashed across his face, the worse ones on his chest, made it even more unlikely that he’d achieve his dream of marriage and a large family, he couldn’t blame his bachelorhood entirely on the war. Women had always liked him, yes—as a friend. And nothing but a friend. He lacked the cool charisma that most women seemed to want in a boyfriend or husband.
Entering his grandmother’s room, he pulled up a chair for Lacey, and then sat down on the edge of Nonna’s bed, carefully, trying not to jolt her out of her light doze. He was newly conscious that she was pale, and thinner than she’d been. A glance around the attractive bedroom revealed a stash of pill bottles he hadn’t noticed before.
Nonna’s eyes fluttered open and she reached out.
He caught her hand in his. “Hey, how’re you feeling?”
She pursed her lips and glared at Lacey. “You told him about my heart.”
“Yes, I told him! Of course I told him!” Lacey’s voice had a fond but scolding tone. “You should have let him know yourself, Nonna. I thought you had.”
He squeezed his grandmother’s hand. “Don’t you know I would’ve dropped everything and come?”
Nonna made a disgusted noise. “That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you. You and your brother have your own lives to lead. And I was able to find a very good arrangement on my own.” She smiled at Lacey.
“It is a good arrangement, and I’m glad for it.” Vito glanced over at Lacey, who had gotten up to pour water into a small vase of flowers.
With its blue-patterned wallpaper, lamp-lit bedside table and a handmade quilt on the bed, the room was cozy. Through the door of the small private bathroom, he glimpsed handicapped-accessible rails and a shower seat.
Yes, this was a good situation for her. “Look, I want to take you back to the house, but we’ll wait until you’re a little better.”
Nonna started to say something, and then broke off, picking restlessly at the blanket.
“I haven’t even been over to see the place yet,” he continued, making plans as he thought it through. “I just got into town. But I’ll check it out, make sure you’ve got everything you need.”
“About that, dear...” Nonna’s voice sounded uncharacteristically subdued.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m planning to live there with you for a while.” He smiled. It was true comfort, knowing he could come back to Rescue River anytime and find a welcome, a place to stay and a home-cooked meal.
Lacey nodded approvingly, and for some reason it warmed Vito to see it.
“Neither one of us will be able to live there,” Nonna said, her voice small.
Lacey’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and he could feel the same expression on his own face. “What do you mean?”
“Now, don’t be angry, either of you,” she said, grasping his hand, “but I rented out the house.”
“You what?”
“When did you do that?” Lacey sounded bewildered.
“We signed the papers yesterday when you were out grocery shopping,” Nonna said, looking everywhere but at Vito and Lacey.
“Who’d you rent it to?” If it had just been finalized yesterday, surely everything could be revoked once the situation was explained. Lacey hadn’t said anything about cognitive problems, but Nonna was in her early eighties. Maybe she wasn’t thinking clearly.
Nonna smiled and clasped her hands together. “The most lovely migrant family,” she said. “Three children and another on the way, and they’re hoping to find a way to settle here. I gave them a good price, and they’re going to keep the place up and do some repairs for me.”
“Nonna...” Vito didn’t know where to begin. He knew that this was the way things worked in his hometown—a lot of bartering, a lot of helping out those in need. “You aren’t planning to stay here at the guesthouse indefinitely, right? How long of a lease did you sign?”
“Just a year.” She folded her hands on top of her blanket and smiled.
“A year?” Not wanting to yell at his aged grandma, Vito stood and ran his hands through his hair. “Either you’re going to have to revoke it, or I’m going to have to find another place for you and me to live.” Never mind how he’d afford the rent. Or the fact that he’d named Nonna’s house as his permanent residence in all the social services paperwork.
“No, dear. I have it all figured out.” She took Lacey’s hand in hers, and then reached toward him with her other hand. Once she had ahold of each of them, she smiled from one to the other. “Vito, if Lacey agrees, you can stay here.”
No. She wasn’t thinking clearly. “Nonna, that’s not going to work. Lacey made this arrangement with you, not with me.” And certainly not with the other guest he had in tow. No way could Lacey find out the truth about Charlie.
“But Lacey was thinking of getting another boarder for this period while she’s remodeling. It’s hard to find the right one, because of all the noise.” Lacey started to speak, but Nonna held up a hand. “The noise doesn’t bother me. I can just turn down my hearing aid.”
Vito knew what was coming and he felt his face heat. “Nonna...”
“Vito’s perfect,” she said, looking at Lacey, “because he can do the same thing.”
Lacey’s eyebrows lifted as she looked at him.
No point in trying to hide his less visible disability now. “It’s true,” he said, brushing back his hair to show his behind-the-ear hearing aids. “But that doesn’t mean you have to take us in.” In fact, staying here was the last thing that would work for him.
He’d promised Gerry he’d take care of his son, conceived during the affair Gerry had while married to Lacey. And he’d promised to keep Charlie’s parentage a secret from Lacey.
He was glad he could help his friend, sinner though Gerry had been. Charlie needed a reliable father figure, and Lacey needed to maintain her illusions about her husband. It would serve no purpose for her to find out the truth now; it would only hurt her.
Lacey frowned. “I was looking to take in another boarder. I was thinking of maybe somebody who worked the three-to-eleven shift at the pretzel factory. They could come home and sleep, and they wouldn’t be bothered by my working on the house at all hours.”
“That makes sense,” he said, relieved. “That would be better.”
“But the thing is,” she said slowly, “I haven’t found anyone, even though I’ve been advertising for a couple of weeks. If you wanted to...”
Anxiety clawed at him from inside. How was he supposed to handle this? He could throttle Gerry for putting him into this situation. “I... There are some complications. I need to give this some thought.” He knew he was being cryptic, but he needed time to figure it all out.
Unfortunately, Nonna wasn’t one to accept anything cryptic from her grandchildren. “What complications? What’s going on?”
Vito stood, then sat back down again. Nonna was going to have to know about Charlie soon enough. Lacey, too, along with everyone else in town. It would seem weirder if he tried to hide it now. “The thing is,” he said, “I’m not alone. I have someone with me.”
“Girlfriend? Wife?” Lacey sounded extremely curious.
Nonna, on the other hand, looked disappointed. “You would never get married without letting your nonna know,” she said, reaching up to pinch his cheek, and then pulling her hand back, looking apologetic. It took him a minute to realize that she’d hesitated because of his scars.
“One of my finished rooms is a double,” Lacey said thoughtfully. “But I don’t know what your...friend...would think of the mess and the noise.”
This was going off the rails. “It’s not a girlfriend or wife,” he said.
“Then who?” Nonna smacked his arm in a way that reminded him of when he’d been small and misbehaving. “If not a woman, then who?”
Vito drew in a breath. “Actually,” he said, “I’ve recently become certified as a foster parent.”
Both women stared at him with wide, surprised eyes.
“So I’d be bringing along my eight-year-old foster son.”
He was saved from further explanation by a crash, followed by the sound of shattering glass and running feet.
Chapter Two (#u3d5901b1-f0bb-5520-b0ed-d7e852b905df)
Lacey raced out of Nonna’s bedroom, leaving Vito to reassure the older woman. A quick scan of the hall revealed the breakage: her ceramic rooster lay in pieces on the floor.
One of the kids, probably; they were all sugared up on wedding cake and running around. She hurried to get a broom and dustpan, not wanting any of the remaining wedding guests to injure themselves. As she dropped the colorful pieces into the trash, she felt a moment’s regret.
More important than the untimely demise of her admittedly tacky rooster, she wondered about Vito fostering a child. That, she hadn’t expected.
“Miss Lacey!” It was little Mindy, Sam Hinton’s daughter. “I saw who did that!”
“Did you? Stay back,” she warned as she checked the area for any remaining ceramic pieces.
“Yes,” Mindy said, “and he’s hiding under the front porch right now!”
Behind her, Lacey heard Vito coming out of Nonna’s bedroom, then pausing to talk some more, and a suspicion of who the young criminal might be came over her. “I’ll go talk to him,” she said. “It wasn’t Xavier, was it?”
“No. It was a kid I don’t know. Is he going to get in trouble?”
“I don’t think so, honey. Not too much trouble, anyway. Why don’t you go tell your dad what happened?”
“Yeah! He’s gotta know!” As Mindy rushed off to her important task, Lacey walked out of the house and stood on the porch, looking around. The remaining guests were in the side yard, talking and laughing, so no one seemed to notice her.
She went down the steps and around to the side of the house where there was an opening in the latticework; she knew because she’d had to crawl under there when she’d first found Mrs. Whiskers, hiding with a couple of kittens. When she squatted down, she heard a little sniffling sound that touched her heart. Moving aside the branches of a lilac bush, breathing in the sweet fragrance of the fading purple flowers, she spoke into the darkness. “It’s okay. I didn’t like that rooster much, anyway.”
There was silence, and then a stirring, but no voice. From the other side of the yard, she could hear conversations and laughter. But this shaded spot felt private.
“I remember one time I broke my grandma’s favorite lamp,” she said conversationally, settling into a sitting position on the cool grass. “I ran and hid in an apple tree.”
“Did they find you?” a boy’s voice asked. Not a familiar voice. Since she knew every kid at the wedding, her suspicion that the culprit was Vito’s new foster son increased. “Yes, they found me. My brother told them where I was.”
“Did you get in trouble?”
“I sure did.” She remembered her grandma’s reprimand, her father chiming in, her own teary apology.
“Did they hit you?” the boy asked, his voice low.
The plaintive question squeezed Lacey’s heart. “No, I just got scolded a lot. And I had to give my grandma my allowance to help pay for a new lamp.”
“I don’t get an allowance. Did you...” There was a pause, a sniffle. “Did you have to go live somewhere else after that?”
Lacey’s eyes widened as she put it all together. Vito had said he’d recently become certified as a foster parent. So this must be a new arrangement. It would make all the sense in the world that a boy who’d just been placed with a new foster father would feel insecure about whether he’d be allowed to stay.
But why had Vito, a single man with issues of his own, taken on this new challenge? “No, I didn’t have to go live somewhere else,” she said firmly, “and what’s more, no kind adult would send a kid away for breaking a silly old lamp. Or a silly old rooster, either.”
Branches rustled behind her, and then Vito came around the edge of the bushes. “There you are! What happened? Is everything okay?”
She pointed toward the latticed area where the boy was hiding, giving Vito a meaningful look. “I think the person who accidentally—” she emphasized the word “—broke the rooster is worried he’ll get sent away.”
“What?” Vito’s thick dark eyebrows came down as understanding dawned in his eyes. He squatted beside her. “Charlie, is that you? Kids don’t get sent away for stuff like that.”
There was another shuffling under the porch, and then a head came into view. Messy, light brown hair, a sprinkling of freckles, worried-looking eyes. “But they might get sent away if they were keeping their dad from having a place to live.”
Oh. The boy must have heard Vito say he couldn’t live here because of having a foster son.
“We’ll find a place to live,” Vito said. “Come on out.”
The boy looked at him steadily and didn’t move.
“Charlie! I mean it!”
Lacey put a hand on Vito’s arm. “Hey, Charlie,” she said softly. “I grew up next door to this guy. I was three years younger and a lot smaller, and I did some annoying things. And he never, ever hit me.” She felt Vito’s arm tense beneath hers and squeezed. “And he wouldn’t hurt you, either. Right, Vito?” She looked over at him.
His mouth twisted. “That’s right.” He went forward on one knee and held out a hand to the boy. “Come on out. We talked about this. Remember, I look meaner than I really am.”
The boy hesitated, then crawled out without taking Vito’s hand. Instead, he scuttled over to the other side of Lacey and crouched.
Vito drew in a breath and blew it out. His brow furrowed. “You’re going to need to apologize to Miss Lacey, here, and then we’ll find out how you can make up for what you did.”
The boy wrapped his arms around upraised knees. A tear leaked out and he backhanded it away. “I can’t make it up. Don’t have any money.”
“I might have some chores you could do,” Lacey said, easing backward so she wasn’t directly between Charlie and Vito. “Especially if you and your foster dad are going to be living here.” As soon as she said it, she regretted the words. “Or living nearby,” she amended hastily.
She liked Vito, always had. And she adored his grandmother, who clearly wanted her family gathered around her. But Lacey had been planning to have the next few months as a quiet, calm oasis before opening her guesthouse. She still had healing to do.
Having Vito and this boy here wasn’t conducive to quiet serenity. On the other hand, young Charlie seemed to have thrown himself on her for protection, and that touched her.
“Can we live here? Really?” The boy jumped up and started hopping from one foot to the next. “’Cause this place is cool! You have a tire swing! And there’s a basketball hoop right across the street!”
Vito stood, looking at her quizzically. “The grown-ups will be doing some talking,” he said firmly. “For tonight, we’re staying out at the motel like we planned. But before we go back there, I want you to apologize.”
The boy looked at Lacey, then away, digging the toe of a well-worn sneaker into the dirt. “I’m real sorry I broke your rooster. It was an accident.”
She nodded, getting to her feet. “That’s all right. I think I can find another one kind of like it.”
Her own soft feelings surprised her. Generally, she avoided little ones, especially babies; they were a reminder of all she couldn’t have.
But this boy touched her heart. Maybe it was because his reaction to breaking the rooster was so similar to her own reaction when she’d broken the lamp. Hide. Don’t let the grown-ups know, because you never know what disaster will happen when grown-ups get upset. She’d been fortunate, found by her grandma and father instead of her mom. Come to think of it, her brother had probably gone to them on purpose. He’d wanted her to get in trouble, but not from their volatile mother.
Lacey was beyond all that now, at least she thought so, but she still identified with the feeling of accidentally causing disasters and facing out-of-proportion consequences.
“And the other question you have to answer,” Vito said, putting an arm around Charlie’s shoulders lightly, ignoring the boy’s automatic wince, “is how you got down here when you were supposed to be staying with Valencia.”
Lacey moved to stand by Charlie, and her presence seemed to relax him.
“I asked her if we could take a walk,” Charlie explained, a defensive tone coming into his voice. “When we came by here, she started talking to the people and I came inside. I just wanted to look around.”
“You’re not to do things like that without permission.” Vito pinched the bridge of his nose. “You have another apology to make, to Valencia. And no dessert after dinner tonight.”
The boy’s lower lip came out, and Lacey felt the absurd impulse to slip him an extra piece of wedding cake.
An accented voice called from the other side of the yard. “Charlie! Charlie!”
“You run and tell Miss Valencia you’re sorry you didn’t stay close to her. And then wait for me on the porch.”
As the boy ran toward the babysitter’s anxious voice, Lacey looked up at Vito. “In over your head?”
“Totally.” He blew out a breath. “What do I know about raising kids?”
“How’d you get into it, anyway?”
“It’s complicated.” He looked away, then back at her. “Listen, don’t feel pressured into having us stay at your guesthouse. I don’t expect that, no matter what Nonna says. And you can see that we’d be a handful.”
She looked into his warm brown eyes. “I can see that. And I honestly don’t know if it would work. But what are you going to do if you can’t stay here?”
“That’s the million-dollar question.” He rubbed his chin. “We’ll figure something out.”
“Let me sleep on it. It’s been a crazy day.”
“Of course it has, and I’m sorry to add to that.” They headed toward the rest of the guests, and he put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. It was an innocent gesture, a friendly gesture, the same thing he’d done with Charlie.
But for some reason, it disconcerted her now, and she stepped away.
Something flashed in Vito’s eyes and he cleared his throat. “Look, tomorrow Charlie has a visit with his birth mom up in Raystown. Let me take you to lunch. We can talk about Nonna and the possibility of Charlie and me staying here. Or more likely, how to break it to Nonna that we won’t be staying here.”
She’d planned to spend the next afternoon cleaning up and recovering from the wedding. “That’ll work.”
“The Chatterbox? Noon?” His voice was strictly businesslike.
“Where else?” She wondered why he’d gone chilly on her. “I’m looking forward to catching up.”
And she was. Sort of.
* * *
The next morning, Vito pulled his truck into the parking lot at the Supervised Visitation Center and glanced into the backseat of the extended cab. Yes, a storm was brewing.
“Why do I have to do this?” Charlie mumbled. “Am I going back to live with her?”
“No.” He twisted farther around to get more comfortable. “We talked about this. Your mom loves you, but she can’t do a good job taking care of you, and you need to have a forever home.” He’d practically memorized the words from the foster parenting handbook, and it was a good thing. Because apparently, Charlie needed to hear them a bunch of times.
“Then why do I have to visit? I wanted to play basketball with Xavier, that kid from the wedding yesterday. He said maybe I could come over.”
Vito pulled up another memorized phrase and forced cheer into his voice. “It’s important for you to have a relationship with your mom. Important for you and for her.”
The whole situation was awful for a kid, and Krystal, Charlie’s mother, wasn’t easy to deal with. She’d neglected Charlie, and worse, exposed him to danger—mostly from her poorly chosen boyfriends—way too many times.
Someone who hurt a kid ought to be in prison, in Vito’s mind, at the very least. But he had to keep reminding himself that Krystal was sick.
“You’ll have fun with your mom,” he said. “I think you guys are going to go out for lunch in a little while and maybe over to the lake afterward.”
“That doesn’t sound fun.” Charlie crossed his arms and looked out the window, making no move to get out of the car.
Vito looked that way, too, and saw Krystal getting out of the passenger side of a late-model SUV. Maybe things were looking up for her. He’d only met her a few times, but she’d been driving a car noticeably on its last legs.
The SUV roared off, passing them, with a balding, bearded, forty-something guy at the wheel. Vito looked back at Charlie in time to see the boy cringe. “What’s wrong, buddy?” he asked. “Do you know that guy?”
Charlie nodded but didn’t say anything.
Krystal strolled over to the back stoop of the Center, smoking a cigarette. Vito wished for a similarly easy way to calm his nerves.
He wished he knew how to be a father. He’d only had Charlie full-time for a month, most of which they’d spent in Cleveland, closing down Vito’s previous life, getting ready to move home. Charlie had been well and truly welcomed by the Cleveland branch of Vito’s family, though everyone had agreed on waiting to tell Nonna about Charlie until the foster care situation was definite. If everything went well, he’d be able to adopt Charlie after another six months and be the boy’s permanent, real father.
Learning how to parent well would take a lifetime.
Vito got out of the car. The small, wire-supported trees around the brand-new building were trying their best, sporting a few green leaves. A robin hopped along the bare ground, poking for worms, and more birds chirped overhead. It was a nice summer day, and Vito was half tempted to get back in the truck and drive away, take Charlie to the lake himself.
But that wasn’t the agreement he’d made. He opened the passenger door and Charlie got out. His glance in his mother’s direction was urgent and hungry.
Of course. This visit was important. No matter what parents did, kids always wanted to love them.
Vito forced a spring into his step as they approached the building and Krystal. “Hey,” he greeted her, and tried the door.
“It’s locked, genius.” Krystal drew harder on her cigarette. She hadn’t glanced at or touched Charlie, who’d stopped a few steps short of the little porch.
Looking at the two of them, Vito’s heart about broke. He considered his big, extended family up in Cleveland, the hugs, the cheek pinches, the loud greetings. He had it good, always had. He squatted beside Charlie and cast about for conversation. “Charlie’s been doing great,” he said to Krystal, not that she’d asked. “Going to sign him up for summer softball.”
“Nice for you. I never could afford it.” She looked at Charlie then, and her face softened. “Hey, kid. You got tall in the past couple months.”
Vito was so close to Charlie that he could sense the boy’s urge to run to his mom as well as the fear that pinned him to Vito’s side.
The fear worried him.
But Charlie would be safe. This was a supervised visit, if the caseworker ever got here.
“You were Gerry’s buddy,” Krystal said suddenly. “Did you know about me, or did he just talk about her?”
What was Vito supposed to say to that, especially in front of Charlie? The boy needed to think highly of his father, to remember that he’d died a hero’s death, not that he’d lived a terribly flawed life. “It’s better we focus on now,” he said to Krystal, nodding his head sideways, subtly, at Charlie.
She snorted, but dropped the subject, turning away to respond to her buzzing phone.
Focus on now. He needed to take his own advice. Except he had to think about the future and make plans, to consider the possibility of him and Charlie staying with the her—Lacey—that Krystal was mad about. Which would be a really rotten idea, now that the ramifications of it all came to him.
He wasn’t sure how much Krystal knew about Lacey and Gerry, what kind of promises Gerry might have made to her. From what he’d been able to figure out, Krystal hadn’t known that Gerry was married, at least not at first. No wonder she was angry. Problem was, she’d likely pass that anger on to Charlie. She didn’t seem like a person who had a very good filter.
And if she talked to Charlie about Lacey, and Charlie was living at Lacey’s boardinghouse, the boy could get all mixed up inside.
If Gerry were still alive, Vito would strangle him. The jerk hadn’t been married to Lacey for a year before he’d started stepping out on her.
Krystal put her phone away, lit another cigarette and sat down on the edge of the stoop. She beckoned to Charlie. “Come on, sit by me. You scared?”
Charlie hesitated, then walked over and sat gingerly beside her. When she put her arm around him, though, he turned into her and hugged her suddenly and hard, and grief tightened her face.
Vito stepped back to give them some space and covertly studied Krystal. He didn’t understand Gerry. The man had had Lacey as a wife—gorgeous, sweet Lacey—and he’d cheated on her with Krystal. Who, admittedly, had a stellar figure and long black hair. She’d probably been beautiful back then. But now the hair was disheveled. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, her skin pitted with some kind of scars. Vito wasn’t sure what all she was addicted to, but the drugs had obviously taken their toll.
It looked like she’d stayed sober to visit with Charlie today, knowing she’d have to submit to a drug test. Maybe she’d had to stay clean a couple of days. That would put any addict into a bad mood.
Even before she’d been an addict, Krystal couldn’t have compared to Lacey.
A battered subcompact pulled into the parking lot and jolted to a halt, its muffler obviously failing. The driver-side door flew open and the short, curly-haired caseworker got out. After pulling an overstuffed briefcase and a couple of bags from her car, she bustled over to them.
“Sorry I’m late! These Sunday visits are crazy. Maybe we can switch to Mondays or Tuesdays?” She was fumbling for the key as she spoke. “Come on in, guys! Thanks so much, Vito!”
“Charlie.” Vito got the boy’s attention, held his eyes. “I’ll be back at three, okay?”
Relief shone on Charlie’s face. He ran to Vito, gave him a short hug and whispered into his ear: “Come back for sure, okay?”
“You got it, buddy.” Vito’s voice choked up a little bit.
Charlie let go and looked at Vito. Then his eyes narrowed and he grinned purposefully. “And can we stay at that place instead of the motel?” he whispered. “With the cat and the nice lady?”
Vito knew manipulation when he saw it, but he also knew the boy needed both security and honesty.
“What’s he begging for now?” Krystal grinned as she flicked her cigarette butt into the bare soil beside the building. “I recognize that look.”
“I’m starting to recognize it, too,” Vito said, meeting Krystal’s eyes. Some kind of understanding arced between them, and he felt a moment of kinship and sorrow for the woman who’d given birth to Charlie but wouldn’t get to raise him.
“Well, can we?” Charlie asked.
“We’ll see. No promises.” Vito squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “You be good, and I’ll see you right here at three o’clock.”
In reality, he wished he could just sweep the boy up and take him home, and not just to protect him from an awkward day with his mom. Vito wasn’t looking forward to the lunch date—no, not a date—he was facing in only a few hours. Whatever he and Lacey decided, it was going to make someone unhappy.
Chapter Three (#u3d5901b1-f0bb-5520-b0ed-d7e852b905df)
“They left the two of us in charge of the nursery? Are they crazy?” Lacey’s friend Susan put her purse up on a shelf and came over to where Lacey stood beside a crib, trying to coax a baby to sleep.
“I’m just glad it’s you working with me.” Lacey picked up the baby, who’d started to fuss, and swayed gently. “You won’t freak out if I freak out.”
Working in the church nursery was Lacey’s counselor’s idea, a way to help Lacey deal with her miscarriage and subsequent infertility. She needed to desensitize herself, find ways to be around babies without getting upset by them, especially if she was going to open a family-friendly guesthouse and make a success of it.
The desensitization had started accidentally, when Gina Patterson had showed up in town earlier this year with her son, Bobby, just ten months old at the time. With nowhere else to turn, she’d spent the early spring at the guesthouse, in the process falling in love with Lacey’s brother, Buck. Being around little Bobby had made Lacey miserable at first, but she was learning. More than that, she was motivated; she wanted to serve others and get out of her own pain, build a well-rounded life for herself.
Which included being around babies. “I’m here to work through my issues,” she told Susan, “but why are you here?”
Susan’s tawny skin went pink. “Sam and I decided it would be a good idea for me to get comfortable with babies. I used to be terrified of even touching them, but... I guess I’d better learn.”
Something in Susan’s tone made Lacey take notice, and she mentally reviewed what Susan had just said. Then she stared at her friend. “Wait a minute. Are you expecting? Already?”
Susan looked down at the floor, and then met Lacey’s eyes. “Yeah. We just found out.”
Selfish tears sprang to Lacey’s eyes as she looked down at the infant she held, feeling its weight in her arms. Something she’d never experience for herself, with her own child. A joy that Susan and many of Lacey’s other friends would find effortlessly.
Susan would be a part of the circle of happy young mothers in town. Lacey wouldn’t, not ever.
“I’m so sorry to cause you pain. News like this must be hard for you to hear.”
Susan’s kind words jolted Lacey out of her own self-centered heartache. Finding out you were having a baby was one of the most joyous times of a woman’s life. She remembered when the two pink lines had shown up on her own pregnancy test. Remembered her video call to Gerry. She’d shown the test to him, and they’d both cried tears of joy.
Susan deserved to have that joy, too. She shouldn’t have to focus on her friend’s losses.
Lacey lifted the baby to her shoulder so she could reach out and put an arm around Susan. “It does hurt a little—I’m not going to lie. But what kind of friend would I be not to celebrate with you? I’m thrilled!”
“You’re the best, Lace.” Susan wrapped her arms around Lacey, the baby in between them, and Lacey let herself cry just a little more. Susan understood. She’d stayed a year at Lacey’s guesthouse before the remodeling, the horrible year when Lacey had lost both Gerry and the baby. Susan had been an incredible comfort.
“Anyway,” Susan added, “I’m going to need your help to fit in with the perfect mothers of Rescue River. You know I have a knack for saying the wrong thing.”
“You’ll be fine.” And it was true. Susan was outspoken and blunt, but she gave everything she had to the kids she taught at the local elementary school, and people here loved her for it. “How’s Sam handling the news?”
“Making a million plans and bossing me around, of course.” But Susan smiled as she said it, and for just a moment, Lacey felt even more jealous of the happy-married-woman smile on Susan’s face than of the tiny, growing baby in her belly.
“Hey, guys, can I leave Bobby here for a little while?” Lou Ann Miller, who was taking care of Gina’s baby while she and Buck enjoyed a honeymoon at the shore, stood at the half door. “I want to go to adult Sunday school, but there’s no way he’ll sit through our book discussion.”
“Sure.” Lacey thrust the infant she’d been holding into Susan’s arms. “Just hold her head steady. Yeah, like that.” She walked over to the door and opened it. “Come on in, Bobby!”
“Laaasss,” he said, walking right into her leg and hugging it. “Laaasss.”
Lacey’s heart warmed, and she reached down to pick Bobby up. “He’ll be fine. Take your time,” she said to Lou Ann. “Wave bye-bye to Miss Lou Ann, okay?”
Two more toddlers got dropped off, and then a diaper needed changing. Little Emmie Farmingham, who was almost three, twirled to show Lacey and Susan her new summer dress, patterned with garden vegetables and sporting a carrot for a pocket. Then she proceeded to pull the dress off.
Once they’d gotten Emmie dressed again, the infant sleeping and the other two toddlers playing side by side with plastic blocks, Susan and Lacey settled down into the tiny chairs around the low table. “Babies are great, I guess,” Susan said doubtfully, “but I have to say, I like bigger kids better. I wish one could just land in my lap at age five, like Mindy did.”
“Not me.” Lacey looked over at the toddlers, another surge of regret piercing her heart. “I’ve always loved the little ones.”
“I know you have.” Susan’s voice was gentle. “Hey, want to come over and have lunch with us after this? I think Sam’s grilling. You could bring your swimsuit.”
“You’re sweet.” The thought of lounging by Sam and Susan’s pool was appealing. And Susan was a great friend; she’d stand by Lacey even as she was going through this huge transition of having a child. She wouldn’t abandon Lacey, and that mattered.
Lacey shook her head with real disappointment. “Can’t. I’m meeting Vito for lunch.”
“Oh, Vito.” Susan punched her arm, gently. “Is this a date?”
“It’s not like that. We’re old friends.”
Susan ignored her words. “You should see where it leads. He seems like a great guy, from what I saw of him at the end of the reception. Good-looking, too. Even with the scars.” Susan’s hand flew to her mouth. “I shouldn’t say things like that, should I?”
“Probably not.” Lacey rolled her eyes at her friend, pretending exasperation. “But it’s okay. You can’t help but notice his scars. Anyway, we’re just going to talk about this crazy idea his grandma dreamed up.” She explained how Nonna had unexpectedly rented out her own house, and how Vito was newly a foster father. “Apparently, Vito had no idea that was her plan. He was counting on bringing his foster son, Charlie, to live in Nonna’s big house out in the country. I actually got the feeling Nonna had kept it a secret on purpose, to make sure Vito ended up staying at the guesthouse.”
“But that would be perfect!” Susan clapped her hands. “Vito could be with his nonna, and Charlie could get a sense of family, and they’d be right in town to get, like, reintegrated into the community.”
“Yes, but—”
“And you wanted someone else to room in, right? He’d pay rent, which would help with your expenses. He and Charlie could have separate rooms, or those two connecting ones upstairs.”
Lacey’s response was cut off by the sound of crashing blocks and a wail, and they got busy playing with the babies. The subject of Vito moving into the guesthouse didn’t come up again, but Lacey couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Susan seemed to think it was a great idea, and Nonna had talked to Lacey over breakfast about how wonderful it would be to have Vito there and to get to know the newest member of the family. Her eyes had sparkled when she said that, and few enough things had brought a sparkle to Nonna’s eyes since the heart attack.
There were all kinds of reasons to embrace the idea of Vito and Charlie moving in, but Lacey still felt uneasy about it.
She couldn’t begin to articulate why, even to herself.
* * *
At lunchtime, Vito stood outside the Chatterbox Café, looking up at the town’s outdoor clock, which clearly showed it was only eleven forty-five. He was early. Why had he come so early?
He loosened the itchy collar of his new button-down shirt. He shouldn’t have worn a brand-new shirt today, should have at least washed it first, except that he was living out of a suitcase and he’d been rushing to get Charlie ready to go and there hadn’t been the chance.
He could have just worn an old, comfortable shirt, but the fact was, he was trying to look good. Which was obviously a losing battle.
It wasn’t about Lacey. It was about the fact that he’d probably see other people he knew here at the Chatterbox, and he needed to present a professional image. He had good benefits from the VA—they were paying for his online degree—but a man needed to work, and Vito would be looking for a part-time job just as soon as he’d found a place to live and gotten Charlie settled. Maybe something with kids, since he was looking to become a teacher.
No, it wasn’t about Lacey. He’d had some feelings for her once, but he’d turned those off when she’d married, of course. He’d been over her for years.
“Vito!” Lacey approached, a summery yellow dress swirling around her legs, the wind blowing her short hair into messiness.
She looked so beautiful that, for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.
He crooked his arm for her to take it, an automatic gesture he’d learned at his nonna’s knee. The way a gentleman treated a lady. And then he remembered how she’d stepped away when he’d done the Italian thing and thrown an arm around her yesterday. He put his arm back at his side.
People are disgusted by your scars, he reminded himself. And she hasn’t seen the half of them.
As they turned toward the café—Vito carefully not touching her—he caught a whiff of something lemony and wondered if it was her shampoo, or if she’d worn perfume.
Inside, everything was familiar: the smell of meat loaf and fries, the red vinyl booths and vintage tables trimmed with aluminum, the sight of people he’d known since childhood. Even the counter waitress, Nora Jean, had been here since he was a kid and called a greeting.
“Sit anywhere, you two. Lindy’ll wait on you, but I’m coming over to say hello just as soon as these guys give me a break.” She waved at her full counter.
Dion Coleman, the police chief, swiveled in his chair and stood to pound Vito on the back. “I’m glad to see your ugly mug,” he joked. Which didn’t feel awkward, because it was the exact same thing Dion had always said when Vito came home, even before his injuries. “Police business has been slow these past months, but with you home, it’s sure to pick up.”
Vito shook the man’s hand with genuine pleasure. “I’ll see what I can do about knocking down some mailboxes and shooting up signs, just to give you something to do. You’re getting soft.” He nodded down at Dion’s flat belly and then at the grilled chicken salad on the counter in front of him. “Eating too much. Just like a cop.”
“You never change.” Dion was laughing as he sat back down. “Give me a call, you hear? We have some catching up to do.”
Lacey had headed toward one of the few empty booths at the back of the café, and as he followed her it seemed to Vito that conversation stopped, then rose again when he’d passed. He rubbed a hand across his face, feeling the uneven ridges of his scars.
As soon as they sat down, they were mobbed. The young waitress could barely squeeze in to take their order. Everyone, friend or acquaintance, stopped by to say hello. They wanted to know where he was staying, how long he’d be in town, where he was stationed. Explaining that he wasn’t in the army anymore felt embarrassing, since he’d always intended it to be his life’s work. More embarrassing were the sympathetic nods and arm pats. People felt sorry for him.
But he kept it upbeat and answered questions patiently. Once people knew his story, they’d settle down some. And maybe someone would think of him when a job opening came up, so he made sure to let everyone know he was looking.
After people had drifted back to their tables and they’d managed to eat some of their lunch, Lacey wiped her mouth and smiled at him. “That got a little crazy. Are you wishing we’d gone somewhere else?”
He swallowed his massive bite of cheeseburger and shook his head. “Best to get it over fast. Let people get a good look.”
She took a sip of soda. “You think they all came over to look at your scars?”
“That, and find out the latest news. But mostly to see how bad the damage is, up close and personal.” His support group at the VA had warned him about people’s reactions, how they might not be able to see anything but his scars at first.
“They’re not looking at your scars in a bad way,” Lacey said, frowning. “They’re grateful for your service.”
Of course, that was what most of the people who’d greeted them had said. And they weren’t lying. It was just that initial cringe that got to him. He wasn’t used to scaring people just by the way he looked.
His friend with severe facial burns had told Vito that you never really got used to it. “Older people do better, but young people like pretty,” he’d said. “Makes it a challenge to get a date.”
The waitress refilled his coffee cup and headed to a booth across the way. Vito gestured toward her. “You can’t tell me someone like that, someone who doesn’t know me, isn’t disgusted when she first sees me.”
Lacey looked at him for a long moment, her brown eyes steady. “Look over there,” she said, pointing to a twenty-something man in an up-to-date wheelchair, sitting at a table with an older woman. “That’s our waitress’s brother,” she said. “He served, too.”
Vito blinked and looked more closely, seeing how the man’s head lolled to one side, held up by a special support. He wore a hoodie and sweats, and as Vito watched, the older woman put a bite of something into his mouth.
“Wounded in service?”
Lacey nodded. “I think he was a Marine.”
“Is a Marine,” Vito corrected. “And I’m sorry. You’re right. I need to get out of my own head. I’m more fortunate than a lot of guys.” He met her eyes. “Gerry included, and I’m a jerk to focus on myself.”
She shrugged. “We all do that sometimes.”
Had Lacey always had this steady maturity? He couldn’t help but remember her as a younger girl, pestering him and her brother when they’d wanted to go out and do something fun. And he remembered how flightily she’d fallen for Gerry, swept away by love and unable to listen to anyone’s warnings.
Now though, there was real thoughtfulness to her. She was quieter than she’d been, and more assertive.
He liked that. Liked a woman who’d call him on his dumb mistakes.
And he didn’t need to be thinking about how much he liked the new Lacey. Best to get to the real reason for their lunch. “So, I was looking into options for Charlie and me,” he said. “I talked to the family Nonna rented her house to.”
“And? Did you ask if they’d let her out of the contract?”
“I couldn’t even bring it up.” He lifted his hands, shrugging. “They’re thrilled with the house and the price Nonna gave them, and they need the space. And she’s pregnant out to here.” He held a hand in front of his stomach.
“Well, look who’s back in town!” Old Mr. Love from the hardware store, who had to be in his eighties, stopped by their table and patted his shoulder. “I’d recognize that voice anywhere!”
Vito stood and greeted the man, and then looked at the gray-haired woman with him. “Miss Minnie Falcon? Is that you?”
“That’s right, young man. You’d better not forget your old Sunday school teacher.”
“I couldn’t ever forget.” He took her hand, gently. Unlike some of the other kids in Sunday school, he’d actually appreciated Miss Minnie’s knowledge of the Old and New Testament, and the way she brought the stories to life, infusing them with a sense of biblical history.
Mr. Love was leaning toward Lacey. “I was hoping you’d find romance.” His voice, meant to be low, carried clearly to Vito and Miss Minnie. “Now that Buck’s out of your hair, it’s your turn, young lady.” He nodded toward Vito, raising an eyebrow.
“Harold!” Miss Minnie scolded. “Don’t make assumptions. Come on. Let’s get that corner table before someone else takes it.” She patted Vito’s arm. “It was nice to see you. Don’t be a stranger. We like visitors over at the Senior Towers.” She turned and headed across the restaurant at a brisk pace, pushing her wheeled walker.
“When a lady talks, you listen.” Mr. Love gave Vito an apologetic shrug as he turned and followed Miss Minnie, putting a hand on her shoulder.
After they were out of earshot, Vito lifted an eyebrow at Lacey. “They’re a couple?”
“It’s anybody’s guess. They both say they’re just friends, but tongues are wagging. It is Rescue River.”
“Gossip central,” he agreed, sipping coffee.
“And speaking of wagging tongues,” she said, “imagine what people will assume about us if you come and live in the guesthouse. Just like Mr. Love assumed when he saw us together here. They’ll think we’re a couple. And I’m not comfortable with that.”
“I understand.” He looked down at his hands, traced a scar that peeked out from his shirt cuff. “I’m not exactly a blue-ribbon bronco.”
“Vito!” She sounded exasperated. “You haven’t changed a bit since you had to try on six different shirts for the homecoming dance.”
The memory made him chuckle. He’d gotten her to sit on the porch and judge while he tried on shirt after shirt, running back to his room to change each time she’d nixed his selection.
Little did she know that Buck had begged him to keep her busy while he tried to steal a few kisses from cheerleader Tiffany Townsend, ostensibly at their house for help with homework.
“That was a long time ago,” he said now. “And the truth is, I have changed.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re still good-looking, okay? Women don’t mind scars.” Then she pressed her lips together as her cheeks grew pink.
His heart rate accelerated, just a little. Why was she blushing? Did she think he was good-looking?
But of course, she hadn’t seen the worst of his scars.
And even if there was a little spark between them, it couldn’t go anywhere. Because he was living with a secret he couldn’t let her discover.
“Look,” she said, and then took a big gulp of soda. “Getting back to the idea of you and Charlie staying at the guesthouse. I’d be willing to consider it, for Nonna’s sake, but...I’m trying to build a rich, full life as a single person, see, and I don’t want everyone asking me questions or trying to match us up. I’m just getting over being Lacey, the pitiful widow. And now, if I have this good-looking man living in my guesthouse...” A flush crept up her cheeks again and she dropped her head, propping her forehead on her hand. “I’m just digging myself in deeper here, huh?”
She did think he was good-looking. All of a sudden, other people’s curious stares didn’t bother him half as much.
“Can I get you anything else?” The perky waitress was back, looking at Lacey with curiosity. “You okay, Lacey?”
“I need something chocolate,” she said, looking up at the waitress but avoiding Vito’s eyes.
“Right away! I totally understand!”
Vito didn’t get women’s obsession with chocolate, but he respected it. He waited until the server had brought Lacey a big slice of chocolate cream pie before blundering forward with their meeting’s purpose. “I have an appointment tonight to talk to a woman who might want to rent me a couple of rooms in her farmhouse, out past the dog rescue. And there’s the top floor of a house available over in Eastley.”
“That’s good, I guess.” She toyed with the whipped cream on her pie. “But Nonna won’t like having you so far away. And Charlie could make more friends in town, right?”
“He really took a shine to the place and to you, it’s true.”
“And Nonna wants you to live there. She pulled out all the stops at breakfast, trying to talk me into it again.”
“She phoned me, too.”
Lacey was absently fingering the chain around her neck, and when he looked more closely, he saw what hung on it.
A man’s wedding ring. Undoubtedly Gerry’s.
He wasn’t worth it, Lace.
A shapely blonde in a tight-fitting dress approached their table. Tiffany Townsend. “Well, Vito D’Angelo. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
He snorted. “No.” And then he thought about what Lacey had said: Women don’t mind scars. And nobody, even a less-than-favorite classmate like Tiffany, deserved a rude response. He pasted on a smile. “Hey, Tiffany. It’s been a long time.”
“Where are you hiding yourself these days?” She bent over the table, and Vito leaned back in the booth, trying to look anywhere but down her low-cut dress. “We should get together sometime!” she gushed, putting a hand on his arm.
This was where a suave man would smile and flirt and make a date. But Vito had never been suave. He’d always been the one to console the girls whose boyfriends got caught on Tiffany’s well-baited line. Always the friend, happy to take them out for coffee or a milk shake and to listen to them.
Unfortunately for his love life, it hadn’t usually gone further than that.
Tiffany was looking at him expectantly. “Where did you say you’re staying?”
“I’m not really...” He broke off. Did he really want to get into his personal business with Tiffany?
Lacey cleared her throat, grasped Vito’s scarred hand and smiled up at Tiffany. “He’s staying at my guesthouse,” she said sweetly. “With me.”
“Oh.” There was a world of meaning in that word, backed up by Tiffany’s raised eyebrows. “Well, then. It was good to see you.” She spun on her high heels and walked over to the counter, where she leaned toward Nora Jean and started talking fast and hard.
Vito turned his hand over, palm to palm with Lacey. “Thanks,” he said, “but you didn’t have to do that.”
“Tiffany hasn’t changed a bit since high school,” Lacey said. “She’d break your heart.”
“It’s not in the market.”
“Mine, either.”
They looked at each other and some electrical-like current materialized between them, running from their locked eyes to their intertwined hands.
No, Vito’s heart wasn’t in the market. He had enough to do to rebuild a life and raise a boy and keep a secret.
But if it had been in the market, it would run more toward someone like Lacey than toward someone like Tiffany.
Lacey glanced toward the counter. “Don’t look now,” she said, “but Tiffany and Nora Jean are staring at us.”
“This is how rumors get started.” He squeezed her hand a little, then could have kicked himself. Was he flirting? With the one woman he could never, ever get involved with?
“That’s true,” Lacey said briskly, looking away. “And we’ve obviously done a good job of starting a rumor today. So...”
“So what?” He squeezed her hand again, let go and thought of living at the guesthouse with Nonna and Charlie.
Charlie could walk to the park, or better yet, ride a bike. Vito was pretty sure there was one in Nonna’s garage that he could fix up.
Vito could see Nonna every day. Do something good for the woman who’d done so much for him.
And he could get back on his feet, start his online classes. Maybe Nonna, as she got better, would watch Charlie for him some, giving him a chance to go out and find a decent job.
Soon enough, Nonna would be well and Charlie would be settled in school and Vito would have some money to spare. At which point he could find them another place to live.
He’d only have to keep his secret for the summer. After that, he and Charlie would live elsewhere and would drift naturally out of Lacey’s circle of friends. At that point, it was doubtful that she’d learn about Charlie’s parentage; there’d be no reason for it to come up.
How likely was it that Lacey would find out the truth over the summer?
“Maybe you could stay for a while,” she said. “I’m opening the guesthouse this fall, officially, but until then, having a long-term guest who didn’t mind noise would help out.”
“How about a guest who makes noise? Charlie’s not a quiet kid.”
“I liked him.”
“Well, then,” Vito said, trying to ignore the feeling that he was making a huge mistake, “if you’re seriously making the offer, it looks like you’ve got yourself a couple of tenants for the summer.”
Chapter Four (#u3d5901b1-f0bb-5520-b0ed-d7e852b905df)
The next Wednesday afternoon, Lacey looked out the kitchen window as Charlie and Vito brought a last load of boxes in from Vito’s pickup. Pop music played loudly—Charlie’s choice. She’d heard their good-natured argument earlier. The bang of the front screen door sent Mr. Whiskers flying from his favorite sunning spot on the floor. He disappeared into the basement, where his companion, Mrs. Whiskers, had already retreated.
Some part of Lacey liked the noise and life, but part of her worried. There went her peaceful summer—and Nonna’s, too. This might be a really bad idea.
She glanced over at the older woman, relaxing in the rocking chair Lacey had put in a warm, sunny corner beside the stove. Maybe she’d leave the chair there. It gave the room a cozy feel. And Nonna didn’t look any too disturbed by the ruckus Vito and Charlie were creating. Her eyes sparkled with more interest than she’d shown in the previous couple of weeks.
“I’d better get busy with dinner.” Lacey opened the refrigerator door and studied the contents.
“I used to be such a good cook,” Nonna commented. “Nowadays, I just don’t have the energy.”
“You will again.” Lacey pulled mushrooms, sweet peppers and broccoli from the fridge. “You’d better. I don’t think I could face the future without your lasagna in it.”
“I could teach you to make it.”
Lacey chuckled. “I’m really not much of a cook. And besides, we need to work on healthy meals. Maybe we can figure out a way to make some heart-healthy lasagna one of these days.”
As she measured out brown rice and started it cooking, she looked over to see Nonna’s frown. “What’s wrong?”
“What are you making?”
“Stir-fried veggies on brown rice. It’ll be good.” Truthfully, it was one of Lacey’s few staples, a quick, healthy meal she often whipped up for herself after work.
“No meat?” Nonna sounded scandalized. “You can’t serve a meal to men without meat. At least a little, for flavor.”
Lacey stopped in the middle of chopping the broccoli into small florets. “I’m cooking for men?”
“Aren’t you fixing dinner for Vito and Charlie, too?” Nonna’s eyebrows lifted.
“We didn’t talk about sharing meals.” Out the window, she saw Vito close the truck cab and wipe his forehead with the back of his hand before picking up one of the street side boxes to carry in. “They are working up a sweat out there, but where would I put them?” She nodded toward the small wooden table against the wall, where she and Nonna had been taking their meals. Once again, she sensed their quiet, relaxing summer dissolving away.
At the same time, Nonna was an extrovert, so maybe having more people around would suit her. As for Lacey, she needed to get used to having people in the house, to ease into hosting a bed-and-breakfast gradually, rather than waiting until she had a houseful of paying guests to feed in her big dining room. And who better than good old Vito?
“There’s always room for more around a happy home’s table,” Nonna said, rocking.
“I guess we could move it out from the wall.”
Vito walked by carrying a double stack of boxes, and Lacey hurried to the kitchen door. “Are you okay with that? Do you need help?” Though from the way his biceps stretched the sleeves of his white T-shirt, he was most definitely okay.
“There’s nothing wrong with me below the neck.” He sounded uncharacteristically irritable. “I can carry a couple of boxes.”
Where had that come from? She lifted her hands and took a step back. “Fine with me,” she said sharply.
From above them on the stairs, Charlie crowed, “Ooo-eee, a fight!”
Vito ignored him and stomped up the stairs, still carrying both boxes.
“You come in here, son.” Nonna stood behind Lacey, beckoning to Charlie.
Lacey bit her lip. She didn’t want Nonna to overexert herself. And being from an earlier generation, she might have unreasonable expectations of how a kid like Charlie would behave.
But Nonna was whispering to Charlie, and they both laughed, and then he helped her back to her rocking chair. That was good.
Lacey went back to her cutting board, looked at the stack of veggies and reluctantly acknowledged to herself that Nonna was probably right. If she could even get a red-blooded man and an eight-year-old boy to eat stir-fry, the least she could do was put some beef in it. She rummaged through her refrigerator and found a pack of round steak, already cut into strips. Lazy woman’s meat. She drizzled oil into the wok, let it heat a minute, and then dumped in the beef strips.
“Hey, Lace.” It was Vito’s deep voice, coming from the kitchen doorway. “C’mere a minute.”
She glanced around. The rice was cooking, Nonna and Charlie were still talking quietly and the beef was barely starting to brown. She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. “What’s up?” she asked as she crossed the kitchen toward him. “You’re not going to bite my head off again, are you?”
“No.” He beckoned her toward the front room, where they could talk without the others hearing. “Look, I’m sorry I snapped. Charlie’s been a handful and...” He trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck.
“And what?”
“And...I hate being treated like there’s something wrong with me. I’m still plenty strong.”
“I noticed.” But she remembered a similar feeling herself, after her miscarriage; people had tiptoed around her, offering to carry her groceries and help her to a seat in church. When really, she’d been just fine physically. “I’m sorry, too, then. I know how annoying it is to be treated like an invalid.”
“So we’re good?” He put an arm around her.
It was a gesture as natural as breathing to Vito as well as to the rest of his Italian family. She’d always liked that about them.
But now, something felt different about Vito’s warm arm around her shoulders. Maybe it was that he was so much bigger and brawnier than he’d been as a younger man.
Disconcerted, she hunched her shoulders and stepped away.
Some emotion flickered in his eyes and was gone, so quickly she wasn’t sure she’d seen it.
“Hi!” Charlie came out of the kitchen, smiling innocently. He sidestepped toward Nonna’s room.
“Where you headed, buddy?” Vito asked.
“Lacey, dear,” Nonna called from the kitchen. “I’d like to rest up a little before dinner.”
“I’m glad she called me.” Lacey heard herself talking a little faster than usual, heard a breathless sound in her own voice. “I try to walk with her, because I have so many area rugs and the house can be a bit of an obstacle course. But of course, she likes to be independent.” Why was she blathering like she was nervous, around Vito?
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