by
SHANNA HATFIELD
Caterina
Copyright © 2013 by Shanna Hatfield
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
For permission requests, please contact the author, with a subject line of "permission request” at the email address below or through her website.
Shanna Hatfield
[email protected]
shannahatfield.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Caterina - Pendleton Petticoats Series Book 3, features a spirited Italian spitfire chef, a handsome deputy sheriff, fun-loving cowboys, the Italian mafia, silly animals, and her friend Aundy in the old west town of Pendleton, Oregon.
Praise for Caterina…
“Caterina is an inspiring book with excitement, mystery and full of love.”
Amazon Reviewer
“Another winner from one of my favorite authors.”
Amazon Reviewer
“Well written, interesting and completely kept my attention. It felt like I was actually in Pendleton.”
Amazon Reviewer
“Yet another good romance. Beautiful, spunky heroines and handsome, big and brawny yet tender heroes, - what's not to like?”
Amazon Reviewer
“A charming historical romance taking place in Pendleton, Oregon. The characters are well developed and the author gives you a visual of the characters that transports you back to that time and place… Her books have spirited women and chivalrous men.”
Amazon Reviewer
To those who face their fears
with a brave heart
and bold courage…
Chapter One
1899 – New York City
“Mamma, stop fussing. I’ll be fine.”
Caterina Campanelli forced a smile as she stuffed the last of her dresses into a trunk and attempted to slam the lid. Flinging herself on top of the bulging chest, she bounced a few times, trying to hold the lid shut, while her mother quickly fastened the latches and hooked the buckles over the leather straps.
Angelina Campanelli muttered a string of complaints in Italian. Frustrated and fearful, she looked around her daughter’s bedroom. Everything the girl decided she couldn’t live without was hastily stuffed into trunks or bags. Even now, Caterina’s five brothers loudly made their way up the stairs to carry the trunks outside to the waiting wagon.
“La mia bambina,” Angelina said. The woman sniffled, trying to hold back the tears stinging her eyes. “My poor baby girl. Isn’t there another way?”
“No, Mamma.” Caterina refused to cry as her mother held her close. Her mother’s soft scent filled her nose. She wanted to memorize every detail about the woman in case she never saw her again.
The fragrance of lemon verbena and the smell of cinnamon would forever make her think of her mother. Tenderly rubbing her fingers along Angelina’s cheek, she drew back with a brave smile, casting to memory the feel of velvety skin.
She never wanted to forget the look of complete love and acceptance in her mother’s deep brown eyes. The youngest of six children, Caterina knew her mother spoiled and pampered her not only because she was the baby, but also because she was the only girl.
“I’ll miss you, Mamma, so very much, but I’ll be fine.” Caterina stepped back from Angelina and gave the room one last glance. Assured she packed everything she might need, she threw her arm around her mother’s slight shoulders and led her to the door.
The morning’s first rays of sunlight filtered through the lace-covered window. Caterina inhaled the scent of roses from the sachets she’d made and stashed in her dresser drawers. She gathered her purse and gloves, picked up her traveling bag, draped a shawl over her arm, and said goodbye to the lovely room that had been hers since she was old enough to sleep in a bed instead of a cradle.
Without the time or energy to expend on thinking how painfully she would miss this house and her family, she strengthened her resolve to face her uncertain future bravely.
At the sound of men in the hall, Caterina pinned a smile in place and turned to look at her brothers as they entered the room.
“Mamma, must she take every single thing she owns?” Antonio grumbled as he hefted a trunk to his broad shoulder. “Can’t the little wench make do with a bag or two?”
Angelina smacked her son’s arm, shaking her head as she hid her smile. “No, Tony, she cannot. You boys haul whatever she wants down to the wagon and be quick about it. If she decides to take the piano, then be ready to pack it, too.”
“Mamma!” Brando and Bruno, the twins of the family, protested while Alonzo and Carlo grinned. They each took a trunk or a bag and made a final trip down the stairs.
As jovial as the boys seemed, Caterina knew it would be easy to forget the danger that awaited them if things didn’t go according to her father’s hastily made plans.
“I’m so worried about you.” Angelina clung to her daughter again, holding her so tightly Caterina thought her ribs might crack.
“Please, Mamma, don’t make this harder.” Caterina’s throat tightened with emotion. “You know I must do this. I must go and never come back.”
“I know, bambina, but you are taking a part of my heart with you.” Angelina swiped at tears she couldn’t contain as they rolled down her cheeks. “I love you, sweet Caterina.”
Caterina shook her head. “Mamma, I’ve never been sweet. Sassy, spunky, most often in trouble, but not sweet.”
Angelina smiled and kissed her daughter’s cheek. “You’ve always been sweet to me. Sweet and beloved.”
“Mamma.” Tears pricked Caterina’s eyes once again.
She blinked twice while her mother gave her a gentle nudge down the hall. “Hurry along to the kitchen. I’ll be right there.”
The Campanelli family owned a grocery store, catering to the Italian community by stocking their shelves with products hard to find in America. Caterina lived above the store with her parents and two of her brothers, Tony and Alonzo. Carlo, Brando, and Bruno were all married and lived in their own homes nearby.
As she entered the large, sunny kitchen, her three sisters-in-law were busy preparing breakfast and setting the long table for all eleven family members. Caterina swallowed back her tears. She would sorely miss being part of her loud, boisterous, loving family.
“Oh, Rina.” Brando’s wife, Natalia, reached out to pull her into a hug. The women soon surrounded Caterina as they hugged and cried and told her how much they’d miss her.
“I’ll miss you all so much, but we must stop,” Caterina said, grabbing a dishtowel to mop at her tears.
“But, Rina, what will we do without you around to keep things lively?” Bruno’s wife, Elena, asked as she rubbed her protruding belly. The baby was due in another month and Caterina refused to think about not being there to see her first niece or nephew.
Unable to speak around the lump in her throat, Carlo’s wife, Anna, squeezed her hand and offered an encouraging nod.
Caterina and Anna had been best friends for years,
ever since the girl’s family moved in across the street and opened a dry goods store. Although Anna’s family came from England, they fit in well in the tight-knit community, or as tight as a community can be when it sat just beyond the edges of a slum where the mafia ruled.
Thanks to Anna and her family, Caterina had a glimmer of hope to escape the trouble the mafia would bring to the Campanelli’s door if she spent one more day in New York.
When she drew in a deep breath, Caterina inhaled the scent of spices that filled the kitchen with a mouth-watering aroma. She would never be able to separate the smell from home and family. In her mind, the two would forever be inexplicably intertwined.
Angelina carefully packed a trunk with supplies, convinced Caterina wouldn’t be able to find the specialty food carried in their store. It was her way of sending a taste of home with her daughter to savor when she was far, far away from those who loved her most.
The family’s ability to create such wonderful tastes of Italy, combined with Caterina’s temper, got them into this mess in the first place.
Although she wished she could go back and do things differently, Caterina realized that line of thinking wasn’t going to help her now.
She looked up as her mother hurried into the kitchen and noticed something clutched tightly in the woman’s hand.
“You must take this, Caterina,” Angelina said as she fastened a pietra dura pendant around her daughter’s neck. “Take care of it for me.”
“But, Mamma, this belonged to your grandmother. I can’t take it.” Caterina held the cool metal in her hand as she looked at the large piece of jewelry. The mosaic, cut from hardstones, featured a pink rose and leaves on a black background. Caterina always thought the piece was lovely, even if it seemed a little heavy.
Gently closing her fingers around Caterina’s, Angelina shook her head. “And now I pass it on to you. Someday you will have a wild, headstrong daughter who means the world to you and you will give it into her keeping.”
“Oh, Mamma,” Caterina cried, throwing her arms around her mother, convinced she’d never again embrace the woman in her lifetime. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too, bambina,” Angelina said, frowning at her husband as he entered the room. Hunched shoulders gave away his feelings every bit as much as the tension riding every angle and plane of his face. “Franco, isn’t there any other way?”
“No. It must be done. Soon, before we raise any suspicion.” Caterina’s father gave her a long, sad look before he washed his hands and stood at the table. When Caterina’s brothers came in, they all took seats and shared the morning meal together as a family.
While Natalia and Elena did the dishes, Angelina took Anna to her room to help her change her appearance. She was going to pretend to be Caterina, since she was close to the same height and shape. Although her dark hair didn’t hold the same midnight luster as Caterina’s, beneath a broad-brimmed hat, no one would notice.
Franco took his sons to his office and they returned grim-faced and quiet. Tony tucked a revolver into a holster. Although he was the closest in age to Caterina and her favorite brother, he was also the biggest and strongest of the Campanelli men. There was no question of his ability to protect his sister, perhaps better than anyone.
At Caterina’s frightened look, Franco drew her to his chest. “Our beautiful bambina, if there was a way to keep you here and safe, I would not do this thing. We must get you out of town this morning and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.”
Caterina hugged him tightly as memories of all the wonderful times she’d spent with him flooded through her mind. “I’ll miss you, Papa. So, so much.”
“I know, Caterina. I know.” Franco rubbed his daughter’s back comfortingly before stepping away, floundering in his own emotions.
Why did he not see this trouble brewing and do something about it years ago? He trusted Angelina’s brother and look where that trust had gotten him. He was losing his daughter today and who knew what else would happen when Luigi Saverino found out his plans to have Caterina for his own were never going to materialize. The man was involved with the Italian mafia and capable of things Franco didn’t want to consider.
“We must hurry, bambina,” Franco said, handing a light coat to Tony to wear to hide the gun. Owning the grocery store, along with an ice delivery business, the family had wagons that could get Caterina safely away from the city and out of the clutches of Luigi.
Hastily stuffing the pendant inside the neck of her dress, Caterina looked at the empty trunk waiting by the kitchen door and sighed. She hated being in close spaces. It made her skin crawl and her breath stop in her throat, but her father assured her there was nothing else to be done if his plan was going to work.
Frightened and uncertain, Anna returned wearing a dress and hat of Caterina’s.
Caterina took her sister-in-law’s hand in hers and kissed the girl’s cheek. “Thank you for helping me.”
“Anything, Rina.” Anna swiped away her tears. “Anything to help.”
Caterina smiled at her friend, grateful for Anna and her connections. After deciding she would be safer out of the country, Anna convinced the family to send Caterina to her grandparents in England. They would be more than happy to take her in and help her begin a new life. All they had to do was get Caterina to the docks and on a boat.
Under the guise of going to Philadelphia, the plan was for everyone to think Angelina and Caterina were going to stay with an ailing aunt for a week. After dropping Anna and Angelina at the train station, Tony would pretend he made a delivery to the docks and get Caterina on a boat as quickly as possible.
If any of Luigi’s thugs were watching them, Angelina and Anna would purchase tickets and board the train with bags they packed just in case they needed them.
Angelina’s sister Teresa really did live in Philadelphia, although as hearty and hale as she was, she would not only take the two women in, but also keep them safe if necessary.
“I’m sorry, Papa,” Caterina said, overwhelmed with remorse and regret for letting her temper get away from her. Her irritability had caused any number of troubles over the years but nothing to equal what she’d done the previous evening.
“Hush, Rina,” Franco said, knowing if Caterina hadn’t angered Luigi yesterday, it would have happened another day. The man was unstable and had long ago decided Caterina would belong to him.
Franco couldn’t help but smile as he glanced down at his gutsy daughter. Not everyone would dump a bowl of hot soup in Luigi’s lap, smack him upside the head, and live to see another day.
Caterina loved to cook, loved the magic of making delicious food, so she begged and pleaded to go to work at her uncle’s restaurant.
Franco’s brother-in-law, Lazzaro, arrived in America ten years before Franco and Angelina came as newlyweds, looking to build a good life for themselves and the family they hoped to have.
It didn’t take long for the couple to decide to open a store. Since Laz’s restaurant was just down the street, Franco and Angelina’s children grew up in both businesses, helping wherever needed.
Except Caterina. Angelina refused to expose her to the ruffians who frequented her brother’s establishment.
When the girl was fifteen, she began sneaking over to her uncle’s place where he taught her how to turn the secret family recipes into meals for his restaurant. Eventually, her parents gave in to her pleading and Caterina went to work for her uncle full time, becoming the head cook at his restaurant.
She was just seventeen when Luigi took note of the raven-haired beauty. From that day on, he watched her and waited for the time to be right to claim her as his own.
Five years later, he was tired of waiting. When she humiliated him, he threatened to desecrate her virtue that very night if she put him off any longer.
In an effort to keep her alive and unharmed, Lazzaro promised the raging man his obstinate niece would agree to marry him soon. He arranged for both families to meet
the following evening at his restaurant to discuss the details and make formal declarations.
Franco had an urgent need to get his precious daughter out of town before Luigi had any idea he was about to be left without a bride.
Any number of potential suitors sought Caterina’s hand in marriage during the last several years. Franco refused all of their requests to court his daughter.
Barely more than a boy when he married his sweetheart, Franco wanted all his children to wed for love. It was up to Caterina to decide when she was ready and whom she’d marry. At twenty-two, she’d yet to find someone who turned her head, let alone softened her heart or sharp tongue.
“You’ll be fine, bambina, but hurry,” her father said, helping her climb in the trunk. “Tony made sure there are holes in the sides so you’ll have plenty of air. Be safe, my beautiful daughter.”
A glimpse of her mother’s tears as the trunk lid descended forced Caterina to close her eyes. Her father hooked one latch to keep the lid of the trunk closed.
Caterina tried not to panic in the enclosed space. She heard Tony and Alonzo grunt as they lifted the trunk, carrying it to the wagon. It jostled her when they set it down and slid it onto the bed of the wagon.
“Mamma, we’ll miss you while you’re gone. I hope Aunt Teresa appreciates the hardship we’ll endure without you and Caterina here,” Carlo said loudly, helping his mother and Anna into the wagon beside Tony. He wanted, quite badly, to kiss his wife goodbye, but if they were under scrutiny from Luigi’s men, that would surely give away their scheme.
Convinced Luigi had someone keeping an eye on them, a careful look around didn’t reveal anyone. However, when the mafia was involved, they all knew looks could be deceiving.
“Tell your sister hello for me, Angel,” Franco called, using his pet name for his wife as he offered a jaunty wave to the departing group. “I’ll have Laz tell Luigi to expect you back in a week or two, Rina.”
Caterina: A Sweet Western Historical Romance Pendleton Petyticoats Book 2 Page 1