Caleb was her strength. She would have chosen him over a hundred men. A thousand. Just as Kase was a part of her soul, Caleb was her life.
Kase frowned again and shifted uncomfortably. Unable to resist touching him any longer, Analisa carefully sat on the bed and smoothed his hair back off his forehead. She palmed his cheek and watched as his eyes opened and the slow light of recognition dawned in them.
He stared at her for a moment and started to speak, then stopped. Analisa smiled down at him.
He lifted her hand to his lips and softly kissed her palm and placed it against his cheek again. His eyes filled with tears.
Analisa continued to smile through tears of her own as she bent to embrace him. She cradled her son, helped him to sit upright, and then gently rocked him in her arms.
Time passed slowly as mother and son nurtured each other in a way they had not done in years. Finally Kase raised his head and brushed away his tears, embarrassed by such a show of raw emotion.
“Mama?”
“Ja
?”
“Ik hou ‘van jou,”
he said in Dutch. “I love you.”
“
Ik hou van jou,”
she whispered back.
He continued speaking softly in her native language. “I’m so sorry, Mama.”
“Don’t speak of it.”
“No, I must. I hurt you and I hurt Caleb. I said many things that were cruel and unjust. I was only thinking of myself—”
“Of your own hurt. Which I understand. We did not want you to know the truth, but in that we were wrong.”
He reclined against the pillow but held her hands, rubbing the backs of them with his thumbs. “I probably would have done the same thing in your place.”
Analisa felt relief at his admission. “Can you put the past behind you now?
Laat het gaan
?”
Kase nodded. “I’m trying to let it go.”
“Good. It is the only way.” She hugged him again and wiped her eyes.
He studied her carefully. Aside from soft lines about her eyes and mouth, she had not changed for as long as he could remember. His mother was a beautiful woman, one any man would be proud to have on his arm. Her blond hair was upswept in a sophisticated new style that was unlike her. Her dress was tastefully impeccable, a two-piece aqua silk, fitted and gathered at the back into a cascade of ruffles. Although Analisa was an accomplished seamstress in her own right, Caleb insisted she buy the very best clothes in Boston and New York. They attended so many receptions in Washington that she obliged him.
In a characteristic movement, she reached up and swept her hand along her neckline to make certain her hair was still in place. He watched her as she seemed to struggle with a decision.
“Caleb wants to see you,” she said, her eyes full of hope for reconciliation.
“I don’t know why. I said some pretty rough things to him.”
“May I get him?”
Kase nodded. “Of course. I’ve missed him. I’ve missed you both.”
Her smile was as radiant as the sun as she stood and went to get his stepfather.
Just as Analisa had done before him, Caleb entered the room alone. But unlike his wife, he did not need to hesitate outside the door. There was much he needed to say to his stepson and the sooner said the better.
The sight of Kase in bed, the knowledge that the young man could not stand to greet him, shook Caleb to the core. He hid his concern and crossed the room, a warm smile on his face.
“Kase.”
Kase turned away from the window and watched Caleb Storm walk confidently to his bedside. He reached out and the two shook hands formally until Kase tugged him forward and they embraced. With much back-slapping and bear-hugging, the two were reunited, but both knew there was still much to be said.
Caleb rose abruptly, wiped his eyes as he turned away from Kase, and pulled a chair up close to the bedside. He sat down heavily and let out a sigh of relief. “Do you know how glad I am to see you?”
Kase smiled. “I think so. I feel the same way about you.”
“I wish we were all together under other circumstances.”
“Yeah.” Kase shrugged. “I was all ready to go back to Boston soon to apologize to you and Mama.” He would not allow himself to think of Rose and their plans.
“I’ve got a few apologies of my own saved up.”
“They won’t match mine, but you go first.”
Both men smiled.
“Kase, we only did what we thought was right. I was trying to protect your mother.”
“I know that now,” Kase admitted, “and I wish to God I hadn’t goaded you into telling me the truth. But I’m glad it’s out in the open.”
“We are, too. I just hope you haven’t agonized over this all these months.”
Kase refused to lie. “It haunted me for quite a while. I wondered if I was becoming like him, if I was capable of committing the type of crimes he did, but I learned the hard way that I don’t enjoy killing. Even if the man deserves it.”
“You aren’t the first man to discover that.” Caleb looked down at Kase’s immobile legs. Had he refused to fire on the gunman who had brought him down? Was that why he had been wounded? “Self-defense is another matter, though.”
“Before my time as marshal was through I had to kill again. We had quite a bit of excitement here for Busted Heel.”
“So I heard from Zach.”
“I think all I ended up inheriting from”—he paused, carefully choosing his words—“from that man is a hell of a temper and the tendency to carry a grudge.”
Caleb laughed. “Don’t forget you got some of that temper from your mother.”
Kase glanced up at his reflection in the mirror and collected his courage. “What I said about you and Mother—”
“You said it in anger. The world had just been knocked out from under you.”
“That’s no excuse. I can’t imagine her with anyone but you.”
Caleb smiled a faraway smile and agreed. “Nor can I imagine what my life would have been without her.”
“Do you forgive me?”
Caleb reached out toward the man he considered his son and shook his hand.
A thin layer of bright white snow crusted the ground but quickly turned to mud-brown slush beneath the red wheels of the buggy. From where she sat snuggled amid the blankets Zach Elliot had provided for the long ride to Mountain Shadows in the hired carriage, Rosa stared out at the endless miles of rolling plains backdropped by snow-blanketed mountains. The sky stretched out in every direction, a pure ceiling of blue unrelieved by even a wisp of a cloud. Although the sun was shining, the air was so thick with cold that Zach claimed he could cut it with a knife.
When Quentin Rawlins insisted Kase be taken to Mountain Shadows, Zach had driven her out to the ranch as often as weather would permit. Rosa had spent the first five days and nights caring for Kase, unwilling to leave his side. Then, as he slowly began to recover, his confinement did little to ease his ill humor. Although Quentin extended an invitation for her to stay on, Kase had insisted she return to town and the restaurant. Quentin’s housekeeper would see to his needs, he said. His parents would arrive soon enough, and there was no longer any reason for Rosa to hover over him. She had finally agreed when she realized that should Kase be bedridden long, they would need the income from the restaurant to support them both.
As the buggy jostled over the familiar rutted road toward the ranch, Rosa thought about the night Kase had driven her to the barbecue over this same route. It seemed a lifetime ago. The frustrated, angry man lying in bed in Quentin’s guest room reminded her little of the man who had whirled her through the steps of the waltz and out into the autumn night. She frowned and tried to put such thoughts aside. Time would heal his wound and his anxiety. She tried to understand the fear and confusion he felt as he faced an uncertain future.
Zach flicked the reins and grumbled, “Colder than hell out here.”
Rosa smiled to herself. She had come to know the crotchety old man well during the past two weeks. His loyalty to Kase ran deep; indeed, he treated the younger man like a son. She recalled his kindness just yesterday when he returned the shawl she’d given him to use as a makeshift bandage for Kase. Rosa had all but forgotten it until Zach handed it back to her all laundered and folded. “Took it to Yee,” he had said offhandedly before he offered his thanks.
On their trips back and forth to Mountain Shadows, Rosa and Zach had continually ignored the obvious question. Rosa refused to give up hope that Kase would walk again; Zach talked about the things she and Kase could do and places they might go once they were married. On bad days, she wondered if Zach was keeping up a pretense of belief in Kase’s recovery for her sake, but she was too afraid to ask.
They soon arrived at Mountain Shadows, and Zach drew the buggy to a halt before the wide veranda. He helped Rosa down and then climbed back aboard to take the carriage to the stable area. Rosa shivered from the cold that cut through her heavy coat as she crossed the porch. The door opened to her knock, but instead of Quentin’s usual warm welcome, Rosa found herself staring up at a statuesque blond woman.
“You must be Rosa,” the woman said, her words laced with a heavy accent. “Come in. Come in and warm up.”
“Grazie,”
Rosa said as she stepped past the woman into the well-heated entry hall. Quentin’s home always smelled of firewood and spices.
“I have heard many good things about you.”
Rosa slipped off her hat, coat, and scarf and took a long look at the woman who greeted her with such familiarity. She was tall, her height accented by the crown of shining braids that encircled her head. Any woman would envy the woman’s radiant complexion; it reminded Rosa of the blushing pink of the roses in Zia Rina’s spring garden. Her gown was of taffeta plaid in blue and brown; the waistline dipped in front to a point that emphasized her slimness. The stranger did nothing to hide her commanding height. Instead, she stood straight and proud. And smiling.
Rosa suddenly remembered her manners. “I beg pardon,
signora.”
She hesitated for a moment.
“I’m sorry!” The woman blushed. “I forget we have not met. Quentin has said so much about you, I feel already I know you.”
Quentin must have sent for this woman to care for Kase. Rosa felt a deep, sinking sensation. The striking blond was at least forty years old, Rosa guessed, but still so very beautiful, so aristocratic, that she reminded Rosa of a young version of the contessa. Still, there was something familiar about the woman’s eyes.
“I am Analisa Storm. Kase’s mother.”
Rosa could think of nothing to say. Sudden insecurity coursed through her, and she reached up to pat her hair into place. As usual, her thick hair was slipping from the pins, and the bun atop her head was slightly askew. She blinked, swallowed, and tried to find her tongue. Never, ever, had she imagined that anyone’s mother, especially Kase’s, might look like royalty. Rosa felt like a little brown mouse beside her fiancé’s mother.
Still, she tried to smile.
“Sono molto lieta di fare la sua conoscenza.”
When Analisa Storm nodded with an expression of incomprehension fleeting across her perfect features, Rosa flushed red. In her startled confusion, her English had momentarily left her.
“Scusi.”
She continued to blush. “I said I am very pleased to meet you.”
“I am pleased to meet you, too,” Analisa said with a relieved smile. “Come, Kase is waiting.”
As they neared the stairs, a man who reminded Rosa very much of Kase came from the kitchen bearing a tray laden with dishes. Analisa’s smile brightened at the sight of him, and Rosa was again arrested by her beauty. She watched as the two exchanged smiles before the man’s attention shifted to her.
“You must be Rose,” he said, echoing his wife’s greeting. “Just in time to cajole Kase into eating. I seem to be at a loss in that department. I’m Caleb Storm.”
“I am Rosa Audi,” she said, unable to stop staring at him. Although he and Kase were alike in many ways, from the deep blue-black hair and warm nutmeg skin tones to the sky-blue eyes, their basic facial structure was far different. Caleb Storm’s features were not so starkly chiseled as his son’s. His hair waved with a hint of curl while Kase’s was perfectly straight. Caleb’s lips were thinner, his nose shorter and narrower, where his son’s was full. Although Caleb Storm’s lips were far less intriguing, they seemed to curve more readily into a smile. As she looked from Caleb to Analisa and back again, Rosa knew where Kase had inherited his own striking, exotic looks.
As they climbed the stairs, Analisa chatted about the cold weather and told Rosa that Quentin had gone into Cheyenne for three days. When they reached the door to Kase’s room, Analisa paused and Rosa waited as the other woman drew herself up even straighter, as if steeling herself to enter the room. A bright smile replaced the fleeting concern that darkened the woman’s blue eyes.
“Look, Kase. See who is here,” Analisa announced with a flourish as she led Rosa and Caleb into the room.
He had been staring out the window, and as the others entered, Kase swung his gaze toward the door. He smiled, but when his eyes met hers, Rosa became all too aware of the concern shadowed there. She took a deep breath and stepped close to the bed.
“You look well today,” Rosa told him.
“You think so?” He arched a brow.
“I think so,” she said.
Caleb set the tray on a bedside table before he moved to join his wife at the foot of their son’s bed. Rosa envied the easy way the man slipped his arm about Analisa’s waist and drew her to him. She could feel the concern they tried to hide from their son.
“Sit down,” Kase invited, indicating the chair beside the bed.
Used to sitting perched on the edge of his bed, Rosa realized that with his parents in the room, propriety dictated she keep her distance.
“Quentin and Kase have told us all about you, Rosa,” Caleb said. “He says you’re the best cook in the States, and that you own your own café.”
Rosa smiled, pleased with their compliments. “Everyone here likes my Italian food. I will bring you something special when I come again.”
Analisa smiled and leaned against her husband. “I will look forward to it. I’m glad that Kase has found such a good friend. Quentin said you have spent many hours caring for our son. For this I am thankful.”