The Wicked Prince

by Nicole Burnham

  Naomi made a face, and the girl who’d spoken said, “You’re not chicken or turkey. You want cool cucumber?” At a shake of Naomi’s head, the girl frowned. A beat later, she brightened. “How ‘bout sprouts?”

  At Naomi’s nod, the girl called out, “Naomi’s sprouts! I’m the tomato!”

  Alessandro had no idea what they were talking about. Father Jacob smiled to himself, as if enjoying a great joke, then moved away to help the kids gather their belongings.

  A few minutes later, as the kids took turns using the facilities and Frannie did a walk-through of the church to ensure nothing was left behind, Naomi moved alongside Alessandro. “Call rye,” she whispered.

  He blinked. “Rye?”

  She nodded. When the kids were back in the room, he said, “I call rye.”

  Frannie snorted and the kids started howling with laughter.

  Before Alessandro could ask what he’d done, Father Jacob called on everyone to bow their heads to give thanks for the lack of storm damage and to ask for a safe return journey to the shelter.

  Alessandro glanced sideways at Naomi. She shot him a mischievous grin, then looked down at the floor and folded her hands.

  * * *

  “No one’s going to explain a kid sandwich to me, are they?” Alessandro groused as he loaded the sleeping bags into the back of Tommy’s truck.

  Frannie found a spot for a bag filled with the leftover paper plates and cups, then locked the truck. Much as she’d love to tell Alessandro the kid sandwich was intended to keep him as far away from her as possible for the sake of her sanity, she didn’t want to admit how much he’d been on her mind.

  “It’s my way of ensuring the kids’ safety when we’re walking. An adult first, kids in the middle, and an adult last. No one gets ahead and lost or left behind.” She smiled at the sight of the kids waiting on the front steps of the church. “Once I called it a kid sandwich, it took a life of its own. They all want to be cheese or ham, because they think it gives them an excuse to be goofy.”

  “They need an excuse?”

  “You tell me, Mr. Rye.” She shot a sideways look at him. “What made you call rye? Was it Remy? He’d be the one I’d predict would tie together w-r-y and r-y-e.”

  “Nope, though I wouldn’t put it past him.” His gaze went to the little boy. “On that note, we should make sure he has Humphrey.”

  Frannie nodded, then went to Remy to check on the camel. Once all was in order, they thanked Father Jacob for opening St. Augustine’s to them, then waved goodbye and headed down the hill toward the marked trail.

  As Sam promised, the walk was a pleasant one. The rainforest canopy kept the sun from beating down on them, and the humidity left over from the storm seemed less oppressive with cool trees surrounding them. Birds tittered overhead and leaves blew on the never-ending island breeze. Otherwise, the only sounds were the soft footfalls of the kids walking along the hard-packed trail and sporadic giggles or chatter as they pointed out sights along the way.

  Frannie walked in the front, keeping her eyes peeled for slippery spots, particularly on the sections where the dirt path gave way to elevated wooden walkways. As the kids grew more comfortable, their voices became more buoyant, their laughter more free. She listened, enjoying the happy banter and occasional sounds of roughhousing as someone bounded over a root or smacked a friend with a fallen leaf.

  Alessandro’s voice came to her ears. She couldn’t hear what he said, but one of the girls responded, “You have a sister though, right?”

  “I do. Her name is Sophia. I also have a half-sister named Lina, but I’ve never met her.”

  “Do you want to meet her?” The question came from Remy.

  “Yes, but I’ll leave it up to her. My family is pretty famous. It can be hard to meet people in private, at least when I’m in Europe. She might not want that kind of attention.”

  “Maybe she could come here,” one of the girls said.

  “That would be quite a trip,” he replied. “If she’s interested, it would probably be easier to meet her after I return to Europe.”

  “It’ll be sad when you go,” Remy said. “Miss Frannie will miss you.”

  “So will Humphrey,” one of the other boys added. “Humphrey thinks you’re cool.”

  “Stop it,” Remy yelled, which sent the kids into gales of laughter. The group quickly quieted. Frannie suspected it was either because Remy started thwacking a branch against the trees as he walked, warning them that their teasing wasn’t appreciated, or because Alessandro had given them a look meant to silence them.

  For all his playfulness with the kids, she noticed that Alessandro had become a good disciplinarian when it was warranted.

  “I think you’d like my sister Sophia,” he said, distracting the group from Remy and his branch. “She’s very good at board games and cards.”

  “Better than you?” one of the girls asked.

  “Much better, but I’d never admit it to her. She’s the reason I learned about the shelter. Sophia went to college with Miss Frannie and they became friends. Then Sophia invited Miss Frannie to a Christmas party where I had the chance to dance with her, and she told me about Kilakuru.”

  “You danced with Miss Frannie at a party? Was it at your palace?”

  “It was.”

  A chorus of wooooo rose from the kids. Frannie understood how Remy felt; she wished she could grab his branch and start whacking trees, too. She missed the next sentences as they rounded a corner and took a steep downhill turn that required everyone to use nearby tree trunks for balance, but a moment later she heard one of the boys ask when Alessandro was going home.

  “I volunteered for three months. I’m going home in a couple of weeks for my brother’s wedding, but then I’ll return to finish my time here. I have about three weeks or so at the shelter after the wedding.”

  “That’s not very long,” Remy said. Frannie heard a far-off thunk in the trees; apparently Remy had thrown his branch. “Can you stay longer?”

  “I’d like to, but I don’t know if it’s possible.”

  “Hey, what’s that?” One of the boys jogged past Frannie to reach for a low-hanging tree branch with electric pink fabric attached to it. “Is that Chloe’s sock?”

  “Looks like it.” She’d wanted to hear more of the conversation between Alessandro and the kids, but it was forgotten in the rush to the sock.

  “Here’s the detour!” Remy pointed to the ground, where branches and volcanic rock had been placed to frame a path that led slightly uphill.

  Frannie led the group along the uphill path. Sam and Chloe’s markings were excellent. It wasn’t long before the group crossed over the mudslide—thanks to strategically placed rocks they could use as stepping stones —and were back on the main trail. They hadn’t gone far when Alessandro stopped the group and approached Frannie.

  Facing away from the kids, he whispered, “I need to go back. Can you take a water break?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Look behind me.”

  She glanced at the kids. Most were standing at the edge of the trail, looking at a small waterfall that was just visible on the downhill side. Remy, however, stood away from the group, his eyes filled with unshed tears.

  “He dropped Humphrey?”

  Alessandro nodded. “The camel was sticking out of the side pocket of his backpack. I saw Remy stuff Humphrey inside his sweatshirt after the kids teased him, but now he doesn’t have it. If you take a water break, I can go back.”

  “It could be a long way.”

  “I climb mountains, remember? You’d be surprised how fast I can cover a trail like this. Tell them we forgot to get Chloe’s sock and I’m going back for it while they rest for a minute.”

  He dropped his pack near her feet, then took off. There was no sign of urgency in his movements; he was quick and light on his feet as he disappeared into the rainforest, heading back uphill.

  “We forgot Chloe’s sock,” she told the kids when t
hey turned away from the waterfall. “We can take a break here while Alessandro gets it.”

  “Let’s time him!” one of the boys called. Predictions were made and those who had watches started counting the minutes.

  Less than fifteen minutes elapsed before she heard Alessandro coming down the trail. When he rounded the corner nearest them, he waved the sock over his head. “Got it!”

  There was a whoop as one of the girls was declared the closest to guessing the correct time. Alessandro asked Remy if he’d carry the sock in his backpack, then he carefully tucked the sock and Humphrey into the largest pocket.

  “We’ll go as soon as Alessandro gets a drink,” she told the group. “Get your things together. We’ll be at the shelter in another twenty minutes or so.”

  “How far did you have to go?” she whispered when Alessandro retrieved his pack.

  “A few minutes beyond the sock. Not too bad.” He took a long drink from his water bottle, then a self-satisfied grin lifted his mouth and lit his eyes. “If they knew how far I went, they’d be more impressed with my time.”

  “Thank you.” She peeked to ensure the kids weren’t listening, then added, “Most people would’ve been annoyed at having to go back. You’re better with the kids—and more patient with them—than you give yourself credit for.”

  “For these kids? I’m happy to do whatever it takes. That doesn’t make me a saint.” He gave her a long, meaningful look before turning to the kids and calling out, “Time to move! Kid sandwich!”

  * * *

  The next two weeks passed in a blur. Electricity was restored two days after everyone returned to the shelter, though the generator did its job in the meantime. The kids helped clear the compound of debris, classes resumed, and—once the road was clear—Sam and Tommy retrieved Tommy’s truck from the church. Pearl, being Pearl, sent cookies along for Father Jacob.

  Alessandro and Tommy spent two days repairing the water damage done to the schoolhouse and reinforcing a section of the roof to prevent future problems. Boards were removed from windows, trash cans returned to their usual spots, and the volleyball net raised. Walter accompanied Johnny and Tehani to the police station each afternoon to do college research, since Joe was kind enough to offer use of the Internet until Frannie’s computer was back online.

  The kids went through the days following the storm on an adrenaline rush. During afternoon free time and evening hours at the fire pit, stories tumbled out of them about their time away from Sunrise Shelter. Even the nursery school kids wanted to talk about their “adventure.”

  Frannie’s contact with Alessandro was largely limited to the dining hall and during group activities in the evening. As always, Alessandro sat with different groups of kids at each meal, though she noticed he took the time to speak to Naomi at least once each day.

  Try as she might, Frannie couldn’t keep her heart from soaring every time she heard his laugh, spied him crossing the compound with a textbook under his arm, or spotted him refereeing a kickball game. When Pearl mentioned making an extra batch of cookies to send back to Sarcaccia with Alessandro when he left for his brother’s wedding, Frannie smiled and encouraged the surprise. On the inside, however, she grieved at the thought of his departure. She even felt a twinge of disappointment when Chloe and Alessandro went for a dive early one morning. Not because she was jealous, but because she knew she’d miss watching Alessandro interact with the kids at breakfast, and there were only so many breakfasts left.

  He’d changed from the man who’d walked into the compound unsure about his ability to deal with children. Now, he thrived on his work with them. Each time she saw him laughing with a child or giving them a fist bump for tackling a tough homework assignment, it warmed her inside. It even made her wonder if he’d given thought to becoming a father himself.

  She had to face the facts: if what she felt for Alessandro wasn’t love, it was close. At the very least, it was a case of deep infatuation.

  A couple of days before Alessandro was due to depart, Frannie invited the nursery school kids to join the older ones in the dining room near the end of homework time to make an announcement. Two of the girls, an eight-year-old and a six-year-old, would be leaving with their parents the next day. Kilakuru’s temporary hospital was hiring for the first time since the tsunami, and their parents had secured jobs. They’d arrive from New Zealand in the morning. To celebrate, Frannie announced that there would be kiwi, mango, and papaya at dinner. “Before you tell me that’s boring…it’s going to be set up like a dessert bar,” she explained. “You can mix the chunks of fruit yourself, then you’ll choose from five different flavors of honey to put on top.”

  The announcement of the honey prompted whoops of joy from the kids before they scattered.

  “Honey?”

  Frannie jumped at the sound of Alessandro’s smooth voice behind her. When she turned, he flashed a smile so charming her heart leaped to her throat.

  “You’ve been holding out on all of us,” he accused. “Since when do we have five flavors of honey?”

  “Jack Gladwell was in Hawaii on business last week. He sent a huge box of flavored honey.” She didn’t reveal that he’d also sent macadamia nuts, some of which Pearl planned to use in Alessandro’s cookies. “I thought it’d be the perfect way to celebrate. Much as I love these kids, the best days are when they leave.”

  “May they all be so lucky.” His expression grew more serious, and in a low voice he asked, “Will you be in your office tomorrow night? After the kids go to bed?”

  “Of course.”

  “After lights out, I have something for you. Wait for me.”

  Before she could respond, he turned and followed the kids out the door.

  * * *

  Frannie tried to concentrate on her paperwork, but found herself reading the same paragraph over and over without comprehending it.

  The bunkhouse lights were extinguished precisely eighteen minutes earlier.

  She smoothed her ponytail and tried to ignore the fear knotting her throat. Alessandro hadn’t said why he needed to see her, but she had one guess, given that his boat was scheduled to leave in the morning.

  The clues were all there. The dozens of times she’d looked out her office window during the past two weeks to see him glancing at his cell phone. Since service was restored, he’d received messages nonstop. The effort he made to tie up projects. The one-on-one time he spent with Remy, Naomi, and the other kids who needed it most.

  Saying he “had something” for her. Since he asked to meet her after lights out, he wanted privacy.

  Please, don’t be his notice.

  A wave of yearning hit her with such force she put her hands to her stomach. He’d said he wasn’t right for her. When she saw the Scotch, she believed him…for a few days. But since their return to the shelter, she’d only seen the Alessandro she’d fallen for. The man who winked at Pearl and befriended Sam, Tommy, Irene, and Walter. The man who picked up on the humor of a kid sandwich and dealt with toddler messes without blinking.

  The man who gave her a kiss on a dining hall bench that was unlike any she’d experienced in her life. The man who’d treated her with care when he thought she’d been bitten by a snake, and whose adoration was plain on his face while he’d watched Chloe pull the glass from the puncture wounds.

  It was that look on his face—after their kiss, and after she’d been so upset about the Scotch—that confounded her.

  She shouldn’t trust him, given that he had the Scotch in his bag and that he’d essentially warned her he’d break her heart. He flat-out told her he was no saint.

  But deep in the marrow of her bones, she did trust him.

  She propped her elbows on the desk and forked her fingers through her hair to massage her scalp. If he was giving his notice, she’d be gracious. She’d pretend it was all right, even though it wasn’t. She exhaled, then muttered, “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Am I disturbing you?”

  Her he
ad snapped up. Alessandro stood in her doorway, filling the space. Over his shoulder, he carried the same backpack he’d had his first day at the shelter. When she waved him in, he swung it in front of him.

  It was full.

  “Not at all. I tend to talk to myself when I’m working.” She gestured to an empty chair near her desk and smiled, proud of herself for sounding relaxed.

  “I won’t be long.” He approached, but dropped his backpack onto the chair instead of taking a seat. He shifted back on his heels and shoved his hands into his back pockets. “You know I’m leaving tomorrow.”

  She gave a slight nod. “It’s going to be a long trip. What time is your plane?”

  “Eight in the morning. Tommy advised me to take the five a.m. boat from the marina to make it to the airport in time. He even offered to give me a ride.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “He’s a good man. It’s an insane hour to get out of bed, even for someone used to being up all hours with the toddlers.”

  Alessandro glanced at his backpack then swiped a hand over his jaw, the day-old stubble making an audible scrape. A streak of dirt on his forearm caught her attention.

  Before he could speak, she raised a finger in a silent request for him to stay put, then retrieved a washcloth from the bathroom and handed it to him. “For your arm.”

  He glanced down, then scrubbed the area harder than necessary. Despite being born to world of polite conversation, he suddenly seemed as uncomfortable as she did. “Tommy and I drove to St. Augustine’s this afternoon to help Father Jacob replace the broken downspouts. I haven’t had a chance to shower.”

  She ignored the mental image that sprang to her mind of Alessandro in a hot shower. “I’m sure Father Jacob appreciated the help.”

  “Wish we could’ve done it sooner.”

  He handed Frannie the washcloth, which she set on the edge of her desk. Small talk couldn’t cover the palpable tension simmering between them. She’d die a slow death if she didn’t rip off the bandage and get the pain over with.