A Haven for Her Heart

by Susan Anne Mason

  “It’s all my fault,” he murmured. “I should have done more for her. I should have tried harder. . . .”

  Olivia leaned back to look at him. “You can’t blame yourself for her actions, Darius. If she was so determined, you couldn’t have stopped her.”

  Tears swam in his eyes, and he drew in a ragged breath. “I keep telling myself that, but I can’t stop feeling guilty.”

  A tug on her arm had Olivia looking down.

  “My daddy is sad, Miss Olivia.” Sofia wore a tiny frown.

  Olivia bent down beside her on the sidewalk. “I know, sweetie. Maybe we can make him a picture to cheer him up.”

  That got a smile and a nod.

  “I have to go now or I’ll miss the service,” Darius said. He laid a hand on Sofia’s head. “Be good for Miss Olivia, Mouse. I’ll be back in a few hours.” He looked at Olivia. “Thank you again for doing this.”

  “No trouble at all.” She forced a bright tone to her voice. “Sofia and I will have fun together.” She hoped for a smile from him, but his features remained grim as he nodded and headed back to the car.

  Watching him drive away, Olivia had never felt so torn. Darius shouldn’t have to do this alone. He deserved to have someone by his side to help him face this terrible day. But as she and Sofia entered the house, she comforted herself with the fact that she was doing something to help him by watching his daughter.

  After settling the girl at the dining room table with paper and a pencil, Olivia opened the morning paper that sat in the middle of the table. She turned to the obituaries to find the information on Meredith’s funeral. The church wasn’t that far away. Two streetcar stops at most. Her mind whirled until she came to a bold decision. She might not be able to attend the service, but she and Sofia could be waiting for Darius afterward. Seeing two friendly faces might be just what he needed after such a sorrowful morning.

  She folded the newspaper and set it down with a decisive slap. “Sofia, honey, how would you like to take a streetcar ride?”

  Once the funeral was over, Darius numbly followed the large congregation out of the church, eager to be free of the cloying scent of lilies that permeated the space. Once outside, he inhaled the fresh air, doing his best to ignore the flower-laden casket being loaded into the hearse. The cemetery where Meredith would be buried was on the other side of town, in a plot owned by Horace’s family.

  The story the Cheesemans were telling anyone who asked was that Meredith had gone to visit some cousins in Ottawa, and, while there, she contracted a deadly virus.

  Only a select few knew the gut-wrenching truth.

  A fact that only increased the guilt churning inside him.

  If he’d agreed to marry Meredith as he’d intended, she would still be alive. Her child would still be alive. Instead, he’d worn his moral superiority like a righteous cloak and dismissed her plight as a personal affront. Why hadn’t he been more understanding and compassionate, tried harder to help her? Now, instead of celebrating their daughter’s wedding, the Cheesemans were burying their eldest child.

  Darius’s tears had flowed freely during the service, especially during the eulogies given by her parents and younger sister. And now, as he descended the church steps, grief ate a hole in his chest.

  I’m sorry I failed you, Meredith. You didn’t deserve my anger or my judgment.

  When he reached the grassy area below, a hand clapped him on the back.

  “Such a shame about the girl,” Mr. Walcott said. “I’m sure this must have come as quite a shock.”

  Darius had forgotten his boss planned to attend the funeral. It made sense since he and Horace Cheeseman went back a long way, which was how they’d acquired Mr. Cheeseman’s business in the first place.

  “Shock doesn’t begin to describe it,” Darius said quietly. “I still can’t believe someone so young and full of life could be gone so fast.”

  Walcott nodded grimly. “I’m heading back to the office, but don’t come in if you’re not feeling up to it.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

  “If you’ll excuse me, I need to pay my respects.” Walcott headed over to where the Cheesemans were accepting condolences.

  Darius stiffened, bracing for the task that he would have to do as well.

  Once Mr. Walcott had spoken with the couple and had headed off, Darius knew he couldn’t delay any longer. With dread roiling his stomach, he approached Meredith’s parents. Sissy leaned on her mother’s arm, weeping quietly. A soft breeze toyed with the dark fabric of the family’s mourning attire. The black netting of Mrs. Cheeseman’s hat barely concealed the grief hugging her features.

  “I’m so very sorry for your loss,” he said. “Meredith was . . .” His mind went blank as Mrs. Cheeseman stared daggers at him. “Meredith will be greatly missed.”

  His condolences sounded feeble even to his own ears, yet what could he possibly say to ease their pain?

  Mr. Cheeseman took him by the arm and stepped out of the fray, seemingly to give them a bit of privacy.

  “Thank you for coming, Darius.” Deep grooves were etched in Horace Cheeseman’s face. He appeared to have aged a decade in a matter of weeks.

  “I feel terrible, sir. If I hadn’t ended our engagement, things might have turned out so differently.”

  Horace let out a tortured breath. “I understand why you did. I likely would’ve done the same thing were I in your shoes.”

  Darius’s throat swelled with emotion, and he could only nod. At least Horace didn’t blame him. If only he could grant himself the same absolution.

  The crowd around him pressed in to greet the family, forcing Darius aside. He shoved his hands in his pockets and moved out of the way, not sure what to do next. There would be a reception at the family’s residence, but he couldn’t bring himself to go back there, to remember Meredith so young and vibrant on the night he’d proposed. Instead, he headed blindly across the church property, not even sure where he’d parked his car.

  When he looked up, he blinked. Then blinked again. Olivia stood on the sidewalk, holding Sofia by the hand. When Olivia gave him a tentative wave, he couldn’t respond. Couldn’t make sense of her presence here.

  Then a sudden, irrational fear gripped him. Was something wrong with Sofia? Or had Mamá called Olivia with some bad news? He’d left Mrs. Bennington’s telephone number on the kitchen table for his mother so she wouldn’t worry when she returned. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as he forced his feet into motion.

  Sofia’s big smile eased some of his panic. “Hi, Daddy. We came to cheer you up.”

  He swallowed and gave Olivia an inquiring look. “Is everything all right?”

  “Everything’s fine. We thought you could use some friendly faces when you came out of the service.” Her brown eyes, wide and luminous, shimmered with sympathy and possibly something deeper.

  Sofia waved a piece of paper at him. “I made you a drawing, Daddy. Like I did for Miss Olivia.” She held it out to him. “You can open it later.”

  “Thank you, Mouse.” He attempted to smile but couldn’t quite manage it.

  Olivia glanced at the crowd behind him and frowned. “Do you have to go to the cemetery or the reception? I should have considered that.”

  “No. I don’t think I could bear going back to their house right now. And Mr. Walcott doesn’t expect me in the office either.”

  “Well then, if you have no plans, I thought we could take Sofia down to the harbor to look at the boats.” Olivia smiled up at him, and the horrible grip of sorrow that held his lungs in a chokehold released long enough for him to take a full breath.

  “I’d like that,” he said. He inhaled again, deeper this time. “I’d like that very much.”

  As he led them down the sidewalk toward his car, he realized that he’d never been more grateful to see anyone, and he thanked God for sending this angel to his rescue.

  34

  Olivia leaned her head back against the front seat of Da
rius’s Ford, the warmth of the sun spilling through the window making her drowsy. They’d spent a lovely afternoon eating hot dogs by the water, watching the big boats come and go, and skipping stones over the lake. The long walk had tuckered Sofia out, and she was fast asleep in the back seat as they pulled up in front of the maternity home.

  “Thank you again for watching Sofia today.” Darius turned off the engine. “I really didn’t want to bring her to that funeral.”

  “I understand. It’s not the place for a child.”

  Darius gave her a sideways look. “I’m sure she must have asked you a hundred questions.”

  “She did, but don’t worry. I managed to deflect most of them.”

  His mouth twitched. “And thank you for this afternoon. It was exactly what I needed.”

  She smiled, glad to see the easing of the haggardness from his features. “You’ve done so much for me. I’m only happy I could return the favor.”

  “Olivia.” On a sigh, he leaned closer.

  She held her breath for a moment, thinking he might kiss her, but he nodded toward Sofia in the back seat.

  “There’s so much I want to say, but now’s not the time. Could I . . .” He hesitated. “Would you go to dinner with me one night soon?”

  Her breathing hitched in her chest. Was he asking her on a date?

  Her head told her it was foolish to even consider such a thing, but her heart leapt at the chance to spend more time with him. She was tired of fighting her feelings. Tired of denying herself. She drew in a breath and nodded. “I’d like that.”

  The lines in his forehead eased. “All right then. I’ll make arrangements and call you.”

  He got out of the car and came around to open her door, then helped her out, holding her hand a minute longer than necessary. Nerves danced in her stomach, and when she looked into those captivating blue eyes, she couldn’t seem to look away.

  She cleared her throat. “Um, I should tell you that Sofia invited me to her birthday party, but if that would be too awkward, I can give her an excuse why I can’t make it.”

  “No, I’d love for you to come. As long as you think you can handle a Greek celebration.” His eyes glimmered with a hint of his usual teasing.

  “Should I be nervous?”

  “I’m not sure what Italian parties are like, but ours are boisterous affairs. Loud singing is usually involved, and sometimes dishes get broken. On purpose.”

  “Oh.” She blinked. “You might need to give me a lesson in Greek culture before then.”

  He laughed out loud. “I could tell you more, but I wouldn’t want to scare you off.”

  She grew serious, mesmerized by the way his thumb caressed her palm. “If my past hasn’t scared you away, I think I can handle some singing and a few broken dishes.”

  He gave her a long look that ignited her pulse, then slowly brought his mouth to hers. Her heart fluttered in her chest, her body heating from the delicious warmth of his lips and the strength of his arms around her.

  “Aha! I knew I was right about you people.” A hostile male voice broke through the bliss of their embrace. “Nothing but brazen hussies living in that so-called ‘maternity home.’”

  Olivia jerked out of Darius’s arms, horrified to see Mr. Simmons standing on the road, scowling at them.

  Heat flooded her face. They’d been kissing in broad daylight on a public walkway. How could she have been so careless?

  Darius stiffened and moved in front of her as though to shield her. “It was a simple kiss good-bye, sir. But I apologize if we offended you in any way.”

  “Darn right, I’m offended. Luckily, I won’t have to worry about this happening much longer. The streetwalkers will be gone soon enough.” He spat on the road and turned back toward his house.

  What did he mean by that?

  Darius turned back to Olivia, his brows drawn together. “Forgive me. I should have been more careful of your reputation.”

  She shook her head and met his troubled gaze. “Mr. Simmons is always spouting off. I’ve learned to ignore him for the most part.” Her lips tipped up. “Besides, it was worth it.” In fact, she half hoped he’d repeat the offense.

  His nostrils flared, and a smile stretched his lips. “I’d better leave before I’m tempted to do it again.” He dropped a kiss on her cheek, then headed back to the car. “I’ll see you soon, Olivia Rosetti.”

  On Saturday night, Olivia paced the floor of her bedroom, waiting for Darius to arrive, and prayed the nerves in her stomach would subside. Would she even know how to act on a date? All she and Rory used to do was share a soda at the local diner. This outing with Darius would be a completely new experience for her.

  She stopped in front of the mirror to once again check her appearance. On Ruth’s insistence, she’d gone shopping for a new dress and had chosen a rose-colored chiffon with short sleeves and tiny covered buttons down the front. As per the current style, the dress sported a thin belt at the waist, but it was the gauzy overlay on the bodice that made the dress seem so elegant. She’d also bought new high-heeled pumps and a matching hat. Overall, the purchases might be a bit extravagant for one dinner, but she hadn’t been shopping in ages. Ruth had insisted on providing Olivia with a small salary, and with little else to spend her money on, she didn’t feel too guilty for splurging.

  When the doorbell rang several minutes later, she hurried down the stairs to answer it.

  Darius stood on the porch, a box of chocolates and a bouquet of pink roses in his arms. “Good evening.” He came in and handed her the gifts. “These are for you.”

  “Thank you.” Olivia’s hands trembled as she accepted the offerings. “You didn’t have to do that.” She smiled, taking a better look at him in the entryway lighting.

  He wore a blue suit, white shirt, and striped tie. His hair was slicked back off his forehead, making his eyes appear even bluer. And when they trained on her with such focused intensity, her pulse skipped up two notches.

  “You look beautiful,” he said in a husky voice.

  “Thank you.” She bent to inhale the heady scent of the roses. Did he know they were her favorite?

  Two heads poked out from the parlor. Monica, the newest resident, and Patricia, who was due in a few weeks, watched them with wide eyes.

  “My, don’t you two look fancy,” Monica said with a wink.

  Olivia’s face grew warm. “Darius, this is Monica and Patricia.”

  “Nice to meet you, ladies.” He gave a bow, his lips twitching.

  Olivia handed the flowers and candy to Patricia. “Could you take care of these for me? And help yourselves to a chocolate.” Then, before the women could comment further, Olivia turned back to Darius. “Shall we?”

  “By all means.”

  “Don’t keep her out too late,” Monica called. “Mrs. Bennington is a stickler for curfews.”

  “Ignore them.” Olivia closed the front door to block out their giggles.

  Grinning, Darius escorted her to his car and helped her inside, then started the engine and pulled away from the curb.

  Several blocks later, Olivia shifted on the seat, searching for a topic of conversation. They’d always had things to talk about before, but now that they were on an actual date, her lips seemed glued shut.

  “I made reservations at a Greek restaurant,” Darius said as he steered the car around a corner. “I thought you might like an introduction to our cuisine before Sofia’s party.” He hesitated. “But if that doesn’t appeal to you, we can go somewhere else.”

  “No, that sounds perfect. I’d love to try something new.”

  He smiled, his features relaxing.

  “Actually, I haven’t been to very many restaurants,” she told him. “My mother always insisted that her cooking was better than anywhere else.”

  Darius laughed. “My mother feels the same way. She has yet to eat in a restaurant.”

  The tension in Olivia’s stomach eased a fraction. They did have a lot in common, simply by v
irtue of their families being from Europe. She couldn’t help stealing sidelong glances at his strong profile and remembering his amazing kisses. Would he try again tonight? The very idea made her pulse climb. Not since Rory had taken her to a school dance had she been this nervous.

  Twenty minutes later, they pulled up across from a restaurant called Mikos. The neighborhood had a European feel, the shops and eateries reminding her of the area where her parents lived.

  Soon they were seated at a table for two by the front window, near a charming brick hearth. Tall pillars with carved vines flanked several large Greek statues draped in flowing togas. A display of wine bottles and grapes held a prominent place near the hostess’s desk.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said as Darius opened the menu.

  “A little exaggerated, but it gives the atmosphere of Greece.”

  “Have you ever been there?”

  “Sadly, I haven’t. My parents never had enough money to take us all back to their homeland. I have three older siblings, so it would have been expensive.”

  “I didn’t know you had siblings.”

  “A brother and two sisters, all much older than me and all living in different parts of Canada with families of their own. We get together about once a year.” He shrugged. “I wish we could see each other more often, but since we’re so far apart, it isn’t really feasible.”

  The waiter arrived then with a large jug. After he poured two glasses of water, he pulled out a pad of paper and a pencil and said something in Greek.

  Olivia stared at the foreign words on the menu and realized there was no English to be found. “Would you mind ordering for me?” she whispered.

  “Oh, I should have realized. I could translate for you.”

  “That’s all right. I trust you to pick something tasty. Not too spicy, though.”