by Emily Woods
His first thought was that she must be hiding some dark secret about her past. Possibly she was on the run from the law or controlling parents. The former seemed more likely given that she traveled across not only an ocean, but also a country to get here. Well, whatever her secret, he was determined to unveil it before any of them could get too attached. She already seemed to be casting a spell over Luke, so he'd have to work fast. He wasn't in any danger of submitting to her womanly charms, not with the disappointment of Patricia Sanders still lingering in his mind.
“How was your voyage?” he asked her on the way back to the ranch. “Did you get sick on the ship?”
“Not at all,” she replied serenely. “The sail was very smooth.”
“And your accommodations? You didn't get sick being stuck in with all manner of people?”
An unreadable expression crossed her face, and she hesitated before answering. “No. It was all very good. I even made a friend on the voyage. I hope that I will be able to keep in touch with her. She was very kind to me.”
Seeing her soft side took him off guard a little, and he diverted from his line of questioning. “Who was she?”
“Her name is Missus Luciana Galiano. She is an older lady of great compassion. As I was alone on the voyage, she, how do you say it? Gave me her wing?”
Luke gave a short laugh. “Took you under her wing, I think you mean to say. Well, that's nice of her. We go into town about once a month, so you'll be able to send her letters and get some in return. Now, if you look down past that bunch of trees up ahead, you can just see our ranch.”
John watched Elise crane her neck and lift her brows in an effort to see her new home. He knew the moment she spotted it. Her eyes lit with delight, and she clapped her hands a little.
“How lovely! How charming. It is just as I imagined it would be.” The smile on her face was contagious and John nearly found himself responding. If this woman was a schemer of some sort, she surely was a good one.
Luke's grin expanded. “Yeah, it's pretty as a picture, isn't it? We've been able to make some improvements since Kate's inheritance came in, painting and such.”
As they approached the house, the front door flew open and Maddie raced out ahead of Marge, shouting out a welcome.
“You’re here! You’re here! Mama will be so happy!” Maddie exclaimed. “She's been waiting and waiting for you!”
Elise's face lit up as she bent down to greet Maddie, extending her hand and smiling. “But you can't be Maddie! I heard she was just a little girl. You look to be about nine or ten years old!”
The little girl beamed up at her. “I'll be eight on my next birthday.”
“In four months,” Luke said under his breath, a grin firmly on his face.
That was two down, John thought with a grimace. Pretty soon he would have a hard time convincing anyone that Elise was anything less than perfect. She certainly came across that way.
They all entered the house and Elise was further welcomed by Marge and then Kate. Both women admired her clothing and complimented her English.
“I have had more than ten years of instruction, but I cannot take too many praise. My teacher was very good.”
“Much,” Maddie piped up, but was quickly hushed by her great aunt.
“What is it?” Elise wanted to know. “What I said, it was wrong?” After receiving a warning look from Marge, Maddie pressed her lips together and scowled. “Oh no. You must tell me. I want to speak in the right way.” She bent over Maddie again. “You can be my new teacher, dear one. Please, tell me what I said wrong.”
“You should say much praise, not many,” Maddie informed her solemnly after peering at Marge to get her approval. “But it's just a little mistake. We still knew what you meant.”
Elise laughed lightly. “Maybe this one was little, but I will make more. Please do not be embarrassed to tell me. I am a very willing student.”
John left them all to their fussing and went back out to take care of the animals by himself. It was nearly dinner time when he was finished, and even before the dinner bell was rung, he saw the men returning from the range at a full gallop.
When the hands arrived at the house, they quickly went to the side to wash up. John estimated that they spent a full five minutes longer than usual, and it was no surprise. They each wanted to make a good impression on the new arrival, and he had no doubt that she would make a very good impression on them. Hadn't she already succeeded in winning over every other person in the house?
Over dinner, Elise charmed each man present, but John somehow thought that it wasn't entirely intentional. There was something very captivating about her. The appeal lay in much more than her looks; her accent was exotic and intoxicating and her eyes sparkled continuously. Every man leaned forward in his seat each time she spoke, enthralled no matter what she spoke about. The most commonplace topic seemed to interest them to no end.
“Tell us more about your father's restaurant,” Thomas begged. “I wish we had a place in town where we could eat Italian food.”
Elise laughed musically, John thought, and answered, “Ah, but you have no need for such a place. If my cousin and her aunt allow me, I will be happy to cook for you some wonderful dishes from my country.”
Before anyone could comment, Kate agreed rapidly. “I have no objections whatsoever. Aunt Marge?”
“Nope. You can cook whenever and whatever you like, my dear. I'm happy to get out of the kitchen, especially on a hot day like today.”
Elise smiled again. “Then I will look into the pantry and see if I can find the ingredients for my family's most favorite dish, pasta al pomodoro. I think you will love it.”
“Will I like it?” Maddie's face scrunched up at the unfamiliar sounding name. “It doesn't have anything weird in it, does it?”
Reaching over to stroke the child's face affectionately, Elise shook her head and smiled sweetly at the girl. “I do not think so, child. If you like pasta and tomatoes, you will enjoy it. It is very simple, but delicious.”
John sat helpless to do anything from preventing the others from falling under Elise's spell, but vowed in his heart that he would expose her to them before she hurt anyone.
In time, they would all see that Elise Romano was not who she was pretending to be. He wasn’t sure who she was, but he was very sure that she was no midwife. That much was clear, and he would do anything in his power to expose her.
Elise smiled, laughed, and made small talk with the people around the table, but inside, she was weary and wanted nothing more than her bed. The travel itself had been exhausting, but now having to talk continuously in English and keep up the pretense that she was happy beyond all measure was draining.
Of course she was glad that she'd escaped the clutches of Salvatore DeLuca, and she was certainly delighted to meet Kate, her husband and child, but she felt as though she was playing a part on a stage. She looked forward to retiring to her room and taking off the mask.
As dessert was served, she told the men about her hometown, painting beautiful word pictures of the famous canals and cathedrals, both of which dated back to the twelfth century. She was always careful to never make it sound superior to their own country and made sure to say something complimentary about the land she’d seen on her train ride over from the East.
Every so often, she'd pause in her story to take a bite of food or simply listen to the others, and it was during these moments that she felt eyes upon her that were not filled with interest or admiration. John kept his expression neutral during the entire meal, but she was quite sure that he was scrutinizing her and keeping track of all she said. He listened carefully, but made no comments. His gaze made her nervous; it was as though he could see underneath her mask and knew all the secrets she'd been hiding.
“You must be so tired,” Kate finally said, probably noticing how she was waning. “Please feel free to go to bed whenever you like. Don't worry about entertaining us. You have time to tell us more another day.”
Elise wanted nothing more, but since Kate was prescribed partial bed rest, she knew the cleanup must fall upon Marge each night.
“I will retire very shortly,” she declared firmly. “When all these dishes have been cleared and the kitchen can whistle.”
The men all looked at her in confusion, but Maddie seemed to understand and piped up, “Clean as a whistle?”
“Yes, clean as a whistle,” she corrected and laughed so that the others would know it was okay to find her mistakes humorous. “Exactly that clean, although I must confess I find this expression strange. Does not a whistle have much, uh, spittle inside from all the blowing? How clean can that be?”
Everyone was silent for a moment, and then slowly, a chuckle came forth from one man and then another. Soon, everyone was laughing or at least smiling quite broadly.
Luke grinned. “Never much thought about that before.”
“When something is too familiar, we can't always see it for what it is. It takes an outsider to point it out to us,” Marge commented a little wryly.
“Yes,” John commented, looking pointedly at Elise. “An outsider can do a lot.”
From the look on his face and his tone of voice, she suspected that he didn’t consider that to be a good thing.
Chapter 6
When she was finally in her room, Elise let herself relax. The smile fell away and her upright posture sagged. Wearily, she collapsed on the bed and let out a small groan that was part fatigue and part sorrow.
Although she'd gotten to know Kate a little through their letters, she hadn't expected to be drawn to her so quickly. In fact, the whole family was lovely. Even the ranch hands were endearing, if a little too excitable.
Only John remained aloof. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what he'd said or done, but there was something in his demeanor that said he didn't trust her. It would be vital for her to keep her guard up around him at all times. He was far too insightful for a simple foreman. She perceived there was much more to the man than one might find at first glance. Usually a person who was hiding something could detect another such person. Perhaps she could find out his secrets before he found out hers.
Once again, fatigue sought to overwhelm her, so she put all these thoughts from her mind and looked around the room she’d been given. Even though it was a far cry from her spacious one back home, she felt immediately comfortable. The cover for her bed was a lovingly stitched quilt made with various scraps of clothing. Her mother would have been horrified to know that she was sleeping under what was essentially rags, but she felt part of the family for having it in her room. The furniture was simple, built more to stand the test of time than for beauty. Her own rich, mahogany furniture with its curlicues and fancy design seemed almost ludicrous in comparison. Why did a person have need for such things when a simple bed would suffice? How did expensive furniture benefit a person? Plainly put, it didn't.
After completing her toilette, she readied herself for bed. In an unadorned white shift, she crawled underneath the light covering and sank into the soft mattress. Her eyes had barely closed when she felt herself slip into a deep sleep.
Unable to find a comfortable position, John tossed and turned in his bed for the better part of an hour before he decided to give up on the pretense of sleep. Quietly, so as not to disturb the other men sleeping in the bunkhouse, he picked up his boots and crept out into the night. Once outside, he laced up his boots and strode to the barn. There, he moved to the stall where his mare was housed. She nickered a little as he approached and stuck her head out to see him. From his pocket, he withdrew an apple and offered it up. Delicately, she wrapped her lips around it and crunched appreciatively.
“You've got nothing to hide, do you, old girl?” he whispered, stroking her muzzle and then entering the stall. He always felt better when he was around Misty. He ran his hand along the length of her back and felt the jagged edges of his stressful day smooth away. “I think you're the only female that I can trust. Well, aside from Kate and Margie of course.”
His mind hearkened back to his younger days when he'd discovered the particular changeable character of all the women he'd met. Of course, in his previous line of work, all the women in his path were prone to be deceptive, but it had jaded him, especially now after being jilted, or nearly so, by Patricia.
At the thought of her, his heart tripped in his chest, but he quickly dismissed her face from his mind. In its place, another rose, equally as upsetting, but for different reasons. He didn’t want to consider the soft pink lips or the gold flecks in her dark eyes. How could he get her out of his brain? From experience, he knew the best thing to do was pray, so he immediately opened his mind and heart to God.
“Dear Father,” he murmured, eyes closed and forehead pressed against the flank of his horse. “Show me what to do and give me the right words to speak. Help me find out why I don't trust this woman, and if I'm wrong, show me that too.”
The words were simple, but the rest of the tension he was carrying melted away. As he continued to pray, peace entered his heart and he felt God telling him to draw close to Elise and find out her story before issuing any further judgment. He was reminded of his own past faults and how God had forgiven him all the deception that had been part of his life for years. He hated to think about the years before he'd arrived at the ranch, those ten years dedicated to uncovering the lies of men and women alike. He'd lost himself in a dangerous world of deception, one that he continued to hide from all those in his life now. Perhaps God was reminding him of this now to force compassion forward for Elise. It was clear to him that she was hiding something, but her motivation might not be as malicious as he suspected.
He finally retired to bed and managed to get a few hours’ sleep, but was up again before the sun. Taking advantage of his wakeful state, he returned to the barn and began milking the six cows that kept them in milk, cream, and butter.
While he was in the middle of milking the last cow, he heard a noise that made him pause. It was a soft, barely discernible cry like that of someone who was working hard to stifle their sobs. Curious, he quietly rose from the stool and made his way toward the sound.
There, in the midst of the fields, he saw Elise walking toward the rising sun, her arms spread out toward the sky. He couldn't hear what she was saying, but from her intonation, it sounded like a prayer. It was mournful though, a plea to her Heavenly Father for the relief of heavy burdens. It was a sound he knew well, and his heart cracked at the memory of his own fervent prayers begging for release of the memories that haunted him.
All of his preconceptions fell away in an instant and his doubts trickled away. It was clear to him now that Elise was hiding something that pained her deeply, but it couldn't be of ill intent, not if she was beseeching God for comfort. Her sorrow fueled his compassion, and he knew that God had answered his prayers. Yes, he was to use his skills and talents to uncover this woman's past, but not to harm her or expose her for a fraud, but to help and comfort her.
Unlike those in his past, this was a job he was more than willing to take.
Elise felt the burden of her sorrow lift with her early morning prayer. She'd greatly missed her routine of waking in the morning to greet the sun with her Creator. Back home, she only failed to do so when she was dreadfully ill, but of course she'd been prevented from indulging over the past several weeks.
The air was cool and caressed her cheeks as she moved toward the rays of pink and orange that lit the sky. Her body was still weary, but her soul was lifted. Although she knew that her secrets were weighing her down, she would have to bear them. With God by her side, she believed all things were possible. Perhaps one day she could confess all, but now it was too dangerous. If someone slipped and told one person her story, it could spread and reach ears that would seek to avenge the DeLuca name. She'd lied and betrayed Salvatore, but she felt no regret. Traces of fear lingered in her heart, and she tried to pray it away, but she knew that it would take time.
As
she lifted her voice to her Father in her native tongue, asking Him for comfort and reassurance as well as courage to face the day, John's face came to her mind, and she prayed for him. She asked God to help her be wise and keep them both safe. Knowledge of her past was a dangerous thing, not just for herself, but for those around her.
A slight noise came from the barn, and she turned to see a shadow slipping away. Although she was not ashamed of her audible prayer, she didn't like to be spied on either. Her prayer halted, and she walked toward the barn. However, when she entered, there was no one to be seen. A chill raced up her spine and soured her stomach.
“Who's there?” she called out in a tremulous voice, but there was no answer.
Swallowing hard, she bit her lip and pulled her shawl around her more tightly. Paranoia settled in and increased the tiny bit of fear that refused to be banished. Still, she prayed for courage.
“I'm not afraid of you!” she declared with feeling. “My God is with me!”
A cow bellowed in response and nearly had her jumping out of her skin and belying her words. At that moment, a black and white canine appeared, wagging its tail and looking at her questioningly.
“Oh!” she exclaimed in relief. “Are you the lurker? Well, then. I guess that's alright.” Of course the animal wouldn’t understand Italian, but it was too early in the morning for her to think in another language.
She bent down to give the dog a brisk rub behind the ears, the contact soothing her own nerves while making the dog press in for more.
Footsteps made her look up. Luke and Thomas were heading toward the barn, bantering and laughing. Quickly, she slipped out the back and headed toward the house. It wasn't that she'd done anything wrong, but she didn't want to embarrass the men. After all, she wasn't in much more than her nightdress.