by JoAnn Durgin
“Good thing,” Harry said, shaking his head at Ben. “Don’t want a repeat of you falling off the roof like last year, old man.”
“Amen to that,” Caroline said. “Dante’s much too humble. He’s very talented. I mean, I’m sure he’s very good at his job. In Italy. The one in sports or whatever. The main thing is, he’s looking to the Lord to guide his path, and he’ll be fine no matter what he decides. Julia, honey, this is the best pot roast I’ve had in forever. Thanks for including us tonight.”
“You’re welcome,” Julia said. “We’re happy all of you could be here. Jake and I are thrilled to have Amanda back home, and it’s great to get to know Dante a little better.”
“Ditto for me,” Jake said, “and Caroline is right. The meal is spectacular, and so are you.” He kissed Julia’s forehead.
Amanda didn’t expect the pang of envy shooting through her at the tender show of affection. Overcome with conflicting emotions, she darted her gaze to her hands twisting in her lap.
Dante nudged her arm. “Are you all right?” Caring and sensitive though it was, his question almost sent her over the edge. Sitting beside her was the first man she’d been attracted to in ages, and he lived in Italy, of all places. No fair, God.
Amanda pasted on a smile she hoped wasn’t too fake. “Other than being transparent? I’m fine. You have to forgive Jake. A man on the eve of his wedding can’t be held responsible for his actions. I can’t speak for the others, though. They’re misguided.”
“It’s only friendly curiosity. Perfectly understandable. Remember, I come from a small town, too.”
She nodded, appreciative of his perspective.
Lively banter surrounded them, and Dante leaned close. “I hope I passed Jake’s test, though.”
Me, too.
****
Amanda was pleased to see Dante relax and join in the conversation as the group enjoyed coffee and dessert in the living room an hour later. On more than one occasion, his eyes locked with hers. It became a game to see which one of them would blink first. She found the attention he paid Caroline and Ben incredibly sweet, and the older couple obviously doted on him. Hard to believe he’d only been in Starlight a day. Dante had such a gentle manner about him, a warm and caring spirit tinged with a subtle sadness she longed to ease, if only she could.
Insisting on helping Amanda with the kitchen cleanup the same as he’d done for Caroline at Barney’s the night before, Dante first escorted Ben down the front steps. Caroline waited in the car, warming it up.
When Dante rejoined Amanda in the kitchen a few minutes later, he told her more about Rome and its rich history and culture as they worked together to load the dishwasher. He brought the city alive in her mind, making her laugh with his stories. She’d always loved the idea of traveling there one day, and hearing it from the perspective of an American living abroad made the prospect more appealing. Especially if a certain man lived there. Something she found interesting was how he managed to tell her all about Rome without mentioning any specifics of his life or work.
“I can see why the Picassos keep you around,” Amanda said a short time later. “Thanks for helping with the kitchen detail.” She took the damp dish towel from him and draped it over the handle on the oven door.
Across the big kitchen, Jake and Julia worked together to put away the pots and pans they’d washed and dried, oblivious to anything or anyone but each other.
“I don’t get to do it often, and I enjoy it. It’s the least I could do after that great meal, but I’ll confess to an ulterior motive.” Dante’s smile crinkled the corners of his eyes in a very appealing way. “This has been a wonderful evening. Walk me to the door?”
“Sure thing.”
“Thanks again for the terrific dinner,” he called to Julia as they headed out of the kitchen.
“You’re welcome.” Julia smiled and waved. “I’m so glad you could join us. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“See you in the morning, Dante.” Jake gave him a small wave. “Come to the station around ten.”
“Your brownies were delizioso,” Dante said as they passed through the living room into the front foyer.
“Thanks. Being Italian, aren’t you supposed to kiss your fingers and do that little flourish thing with your hand?” She demonstrated, feeling silly.
“Remember, I’m a West Texas Italian, but as you wish, signorina. Molto delizioso.” To her surprise, he lifted her hand and kissed her fingers.
A shiver of pleasure ran through Amanda, and it took her a moment to recover. “Don’t get too excited since that’s pretty much the extent of my cooking skills.” She reached into the hall closet and pulled out his jacket. “I take it you’re helping the firefighters with their annual coat drive tomorrow.”
“Si. Jake asked if I’d go deliver them as well as food baskets,” Dante said. “He has some toys that need to be repaired, and I offered to help with those, too.”
Amanda smiled. “Jake’s an efficient recruiter.”
“A sign of a true leader and a good quality in a fire captain.” Dante took the jacket from her, his eyes never leaving her face.
“I sense you’re a leader, too.”
He raised a brow and tilted his head. “What makes you say this?” Native Texan or not, she liked the Italian influence that surfaced in his speech on occasion. Even more, she liked how Dante seemed completely oblivious to it, and its effect on her was as wonderful as it was unnerving.
“You have an underlying confidence about you, a quiet strength. You think about your words before you speak, and I suspect you don’t realize how valuable a quality that is.” She paused, noting the flicker of pleased surprise surfacing in Dante’s gorgeous eyes. “Oh, I almost forgot your hat.” Amanda reached into the closet again and pulled his Stetson down from the shelf. She perched it on her head, ran her fingers around its brim, and offered him a playful glance. “What do you think?”
“You were born to it, signorina.”
Goodness, the man could make anything sound romantic. Without a doubt, he was a charmer. How he seemed so genuine and completely lacking in ego was the confusing part. Mystery surrounded Dante, yet she trusted him. Maybe she shouldn’t, but she did.
Amanda laughed. “I only did it for the coolness quotient.”
His smile, slow in coming, was so worth the wait. “Worked on me.”
She handed the Stetson to him. “Here you go.” He smoothed a section of hair on the top of her head. With his fingertips, he traced the line of her jaw before dropping his hand. Such a soft, gentle touch that shot awareness of him through her all over again. “Do you, um, think you’ll be able to stay until Christmas?”
He nodded, but a veil slipped over his eyes, the same as she’d glimpsed when he’d mentioned his parents earlier. “That’s something to pray about. There are a number of unknowns.”
She tried not to show her disappointment. “I’m sure Starlight must seem quite dull to you in comparison to Rome.”
“Not at all,” he said. “Small towns have a unique charm, especially this one. Italy is terrific, but it’s not home.”
“Why not?” Her grandmother once said she could be a reporter with all her rapid-fire questions. Tact and sensitivity weren’t always in her favor—a fact which often formed the basis of her daily prayers.
He tapped her chin. “Home is where you have love. Family. I’ll see you soon, bella.”
She nodded. “Ciao, Italian Cowboy.”
Closing the door behind him, she resolved to pray for Dante to find his way home. That smile was beginning to work its way into her heart. If he was going to leave, it’d be better if he’d do it now before she got in any deeper.
Problem was, she suspected it might already be too late.
10
The bell on the door at Barney’s Diner jingled louder than ever as Dante shivered and hurried inside. After dropping onto a counter stool, he glanced around and nodded at a couple of the men he recognized from his tr
ip to the hardware store earlier in the morning. Then he’d gone to meet Jake at the firehouse. Not much could be more humbling than delivering winter coats and food baskets to families in need. How the other half lives, indeed. He’d done his share of mission and charity work in the worst parts of Rome, and in so doing, he’d witnessed deplorable living conditions. The people in Starlight had decent enough homes, but Jake had filled him in on some of their stories as he drove them from house to house in his truck.
At the home of a woman named Sandy, her daughter Sammie offered him a plate of homemade cookies and asked if he was a firefighter. If it were a bundle of bricks, the truth couldn’t have hit Dante any harder: he was no hero compared to the man beside him. Talk about humbling. Professional athletes were admired, even idolized, but they didn’t risk their lives on a daily basis by virtue of doing their jobs.
“Here, stop daydreaming and try this.”
Dante eyed the plate Caroline put in front of him. “Looks like the pastrami on rye I had when I first came to town.”
“Ah, but then it wasn’t called ‘Delicious Dante’s Pastrami.’”
“Caroline, I’m honored, but since I’m not a Starlight citizen, it’s not necessary.”
She crooked her finger and beckoned him closer. When he complied, nearly nose-to-nose, she rapped him on the shoulder with the spatula in her hand. Hard.
“Ouch. You’ve got my attention, signora.”
“You listen to me, Dante Moretti.” She lowered her voice. “Sure, I might have a few stars in my eyes thinking I’ve got one of the best who ever played the game sleeping in my guest bedroom, but just because you play big-time soccer on the world stage doesn’t mean you get any special privileges. Naming a sandwich after you has everything to do with your being here in Starlight, no matter for how long.”
“Point taken, but do me a favor and name something after Amanda. She’s much more deserving. And make it something delicious.”
She straightened behind the counter and grinned. “I’m working on that one, and I think it might be a very sweet brownie.”
He laughed. “You could call them Amanda’s Molto Delizioso Brownies.”
“I take it that means delicious?”
“Oh, yeah.”
****
After assisting the ladies with their aquatic exercises at the senior citizens center on Thursday morning, Amanda lingered in the indoor pool with Martha Robbins of Martha’s Bakery and Henrietta Watkins, a retired teacher, affectionately known as Starlight’s biggest gossip.
“Great workout today.” Amanda smiled, feeling energized and invigorated. She’d been a big supporter when the pool was first proposed in a town meeting a few years ago. Whenever she was home in Starlight, she always volunteered to help with the classes.
“Isn’t that the Italian fella over there?” Martha nodded across the length of the pool. “I can see that even wet, he’s as drop-dead gorgeous as Angie said.”
“Wet or dry, that boy’s giving me heart palpitations.” Henrietta draped her forearm over her face and pretended to swoon.
“Maybe I should offer him a box of cookies, on the house,” Martha said. “Marketing, dear ladies. I hear he lives in Italy. If he takes some of my cookies over there to Europe and they catch on, who knows? I think I’ll try making some shaped like a boot—you know, like the shape of Italy…”
Tuning out their banter, Amanda deep-breathed, in an attempt to control the pounding of her heart. She tried not to be obvious in glancing over to where Dante helped Ben with his daily exercises, part of the new regime Caroline instigated with Ben’s heart doctor’s approval. As if sensing her gaze on him, Dante waved and smiled.
Thirty minutes later, Dante said good-bye to Ben and swam over to her. “Imagine meeting you here. I understand you’re pretty good at this swimming thing. Want to race the length of the pool and back?”
Amanda scrunched her face and pretended to ponder the challenge. Her pulse was doing enough racing, and she felt dizzy being so close to him. Wet. In a pool. “Give me a ten meter head start? It’s only fair.”
“I’ll give you twenty.” He nodded, and they waded over to the wall. “Winner chooses where I’m taking you to dinner Saturday night.”
Amanda laughed. “Back up against the wall then. On the count of three, show me what you’ve got.” She gave it her all, and Dante kept pace beside her but lagged behind near the end of the race. A few minutes later, she leaned against the wall, panting and waiting until he pulled up beside her seconds later. “Fess up and tell me the truth. Did you let me win?”
Dante crossed his arms and leaned against the side of the pool beside her. “You’ll find I’m very competitive by nature. No matter how pretty you are, you still have to win fair and square. And you did.”
She shook her head, making sure flying drops doused him. “Why don’t I believe you? Flattery will get you nowhere.”
“A swimming champ still has to eat. What’s your restaurant of choice?”
“How about Lucia’s? It’s the new Italian place in town,” she said. “I hear the zuccotto is scrumptious.”
Dante’s smile was blinding, all white teeth against his tanned skin. Combined with his devastating blue eyes and those toned, taut muscles on full display, the effect was enough to make her weak-kneed. Thank goodness her knees were under water at the moment. Mercy.
When he turned to wave and greet Charlie Davidson coming into the pool area, Amanda wondered how he’d already met Charlie and then she glimpsed something else. “Is that a tattoo on your shoulder?” Not a fan of body ink, she tried to suppress her frown but didn’t succeed.
“Si.” Dante moved closer and turned for her to see. Below his right shoulder, above his shoulder blade, he sported a small tattoo of angel wings and a name. “Ana was my little sister.”
Tears stung the back of her eyes, and Amanda moved one hand over her stomach beneath the water. Was? She took a moment to compose her thoughts before speaking. “Dante, you’ve lost your parents and your sister?” She couldn’t begin to imagine his pain.
“Yes.” He leaned his chin on his crossed arms again. “They were on a private plane and coming to see me in a soccer tournament when I was in my junior year at college. They’d been in New York for a jewelry show. The plane had engine trouble and crashed shortly after takeoff.” Even though he stated it matter-of-factly, Amanda could see from the lines on his forehead and the pain in his eyes how much it took out of him, as well as the deep emotion in his voice.
“How long ago did this happen?”
“Seven years. In some ways it seems longer, and sometimes it seems like only yesterday.”
“How do you even get over something like that?” She joined him and leaned her head on her crossed arms, facing him. When she reached for his hand, Dante grasped it and held on tight.
“I railed at God for a while and questioned why it had to be them and couldn’t be me. Why Ana had to die. She was beautiful, a teenager, full of optimism. I even got mad at them for leaving me, as crazy as that sounds. Then I went into some weird kind of denial and did some pretty stupid things. And then,” he said, running a hand through his wet hair and blowing out a breath, “I realized I had to make my life count, make it worth something. That’s when I got straight with the Lord and got on with it. I like to think I made my family proud of me.”
“I know you mentioned your grandmother died recently, but do you have other relatives you’re close to?” she asked.
When he shook his head, she hurt for him. “I have a few scattered cousins, both here and in Italy, but we’re not close.”
“Do you think of your parents and sister all the time?”
“Not as much as I used to, but it’s the little things that trigger memories in odd moments. For instance, sometimes a smile will remind me of Ana, or a woman’s laughter in a store brings Mama to mind. Once it was an actor’s voice in a movie theater—and what he said—that sounded so much like Papa that I had to get up and leave.”
“Dante?”
He smiled but didn’t answer, watching her, still holding onto her hand.
“Thanks for sharing all that with me,” she said. “For what it’s worth, I think you turned out pretty great. And I know you made your family proud.”
“Grazie mille, Amanda.” He ran his thumb over the side of her hand, back and forth. “That means more than you can know.”
11
Amanda caught Jake sneaking glances her way as she ran up and down the stairs a couple of times on Saturday evening. He sat at a small desk in the front foyer, painting the door of a toy fire engine. Why was she so nervous? How ironic that the first date she’d anticipated since moving to Florida was back here in Iowa.
He held up the toy for her to see. “Dante fixed this one. He’s a good guy. Talented, too. From what I hear, he’s helped a number of people around town with different projects.”
Jake’s words thrilled her. “I’m glad to hear he meets with your approval.”
“Hot date tonight?”
“Going to Lucia’s with a friend. What makes you ask?” Although it was the truth, she could tell Jake wasn’t buying it.
“Well, for one thing, I haven’t seen you so dolled up in a long time—hair all styled, fancy dress, and are you actually wearing lipstick?” His eyes trailed to her feet. “Be careful. Those shoes could be a death trap at this time of year. What’s the big occasion? As if I need to ask.”
Amanda removed her wool coat from the hall closet and unzipped the plastic bag protecting it. “This is why I didn’t tell you. You tease and get all suspicious of a guy’s motives. You sound like Dad. I’ve always hated the expression ‘dolled up.’ Reminds me of a gangster or a sailor on leave. What’s so wrong with a girl getting dressed up every now and then?”
Jake laid the toy on the desk and dropped the paint brush into a jar. “Whoa. Down, girl. I didn’t call you ‘doll.’” His gaze pinned her down. “I hope Dante appreciates you, sassiness and all.”