After the final amen, Natalie turned to her companion. Aside from windburn on his cheeks, he looked as handsome as ever.
“I prayed for you yesterday. Patrick told me you tried to go home?”
Regret flickered in Fabrizio’s dark eyes. “I followed the wagons as far as I could. From there, I could not break through the snow. So I returned.”
The breath caught in Natalie’s throat. Was it so terribly wrong of her to take pleasure in his forced return? She pointed to the window. “Sunshine is starting to break through the clouds. Soon the snow will stop falling and begin to melt.” And you will be able to leave, and so will I. The thought saddened her.
Fabrizio nodded. “We will shovel tomorrow.”
Natalie stilled. Their time together would end as surely as the snow would melt.
“Fino a domani, Natalie. Until tomorrow. I must return to work.” For a moment, he bowed his dark head as if in prayer and then strode out of the temporary chapel.
Natalie. He called her Natalie. So why did she feel so downcast?
On Monday morning, Fabrizio joined the male staff at the front door of the Brown. As Natalie had predicted, the snow had stopped falling. Today they must begin the process of clearing the areas around the hotel. They all dressed as warmly as they could, but few had adequate protection. Still, he expected exercise would keep them warm. He wrapped his scarf around his angular body and considered his gloves. If he didn’t wear them, cold would bite and then numb his fingers. If he did wear them, he might ruin the soft leather that he prized for working on cars. He sighed. If only he had a pair of Mama’s knitted mittens, as darned and patched as they were.
An outburst of giggles drew his attention to Natalie and the children gathered around her. She waved at him, and warmth spread through Fabrizio’s body even as someone opened the door and cold air struck him breathless. He plunged into the narrow space under the awning, which had not collapsed under the weight of the snow. The slight protection kept the drifts to under a foot deep. A glance down the intersecting streets in front of the Brown told the real story. Snow tapered to knee height in a few places and surged past shoulder height at others, a nature-made miniature of the Rocky Mountains that dominated Denver’s western horizon. Not that they could see the mountains today. The men divided into teams and worked east, north, and south from the front entrance.
Fabrizio’s group worked past the music room, where Natalie entertained the children. He waved at a boy who pasted his face against the glass, the longing to frolic outside instead of spending yet another day indoors written on his face. The child waved back, and Natalie joined him at the window. Sunlight glinted on a length of scarlet fabric dangled over her arm. She smiled widely when she saw Fabrizio. He returned the gesture, wishing he could stay basking in the warmth of her presence. The men around him moved ahead. He tipped his cap and bent back into the job of snow removal.
The men worked in shifts, wanting to persevere as long as the sun remained high in the sky. In the distance, other voices rang out, suggesting that people were digging out from the snow across Denver. When the sky paled behind the mounds of snow, the manager called a halt for the day. They had made good progress; another hour in the morning would see a path cleared all the way around the hotel. The weary men stumbled into the lobby, grateful for the reprieve.
Once inside, an aroma of hot chocolate greeted them, bowls of the warm liquid sparkling on white-linen-covered tables. Eleanor ladled the steaming drink into cups. But where was Natalie? Fabrizio found her at the opposite end of the table, tying together paper-wrapped bundles. She waved him over.
“Fabrizio! I have something to give you.”
How he loved the sound of his name on her tongue, the American pronunciation softening the r sound. He shook off the snow that caked his hair and unwound his long scarf in the heat of the lobby.
“Natalie?” He could get lost in the depth of her eyes, blue streaks darting through calm gray.
She gestured at the table. “I saw you outside with the others today. You all looked so cold and miserable. Oh, I didn’t give you a chance to get a cup of hot chocolate. I’m sorry.” She dashed over to Eleanor and returned with a cup and saucer.
“Grazie.” Fabrizio sipped the rich drink. Its warmth fought against the cold and sent shivers to his extremities. “It is good. It will give warmth.”
Behind the table, Natalie bounced on her feet. “But you need more when you’re outside. I wondered if there was something I could do, and I came up with an idea.” She pointed to the packages on the table. “When the ladies learned what I was doing, they all supplied some material and helped me cut and sew a few things. It’s not much, but I hope it helps. Will you help me distribute them?” She handed the last one she had wrapped to him. “Open it and see.”
The paper crackled and flexed in his hands, suggesting something soft within. Fabrizio wiggled his still-cold fingers and untied the ribbon. A hat, mittens, and scarf set, sewn in bright scarlet wool, nestled against the plain wrapping. It reminded him of … He blushed. The ladies had offered their unmentionables, what they wore to bed at night. He fingered the material and imagined its warmth in the biting cold. They were perfect.
“They’re clean. My maid, Annette, helped me launder the material before we used it.” Natalie sounded apologetic.
“They are wonderful.” The admiration Fabrizio felt for Natalie colored his voice.
She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet. Fabrizio remembered King Lemuel’s words, repeated in the book of Proverbs in the Bible.
He had found the virtuous woman he wanted to treasure above precious jewels: Natalie Daire. He turned away before she could see the tears in his eyes. He had fallen in love with a woman who could never be his.
“The mittens, I will tell the others.” He trained his eyes on the floor and made his escape. Back to the garage where he belonged.
Chapter 7
What did I do to offend Fabrizio? Natalie wondered when he disappeared so quickly. She fingered the red wool. Did the source of the material embarrass him? She hadn’t worried about that when she hatched her plan. She only knew how cold the men looked and how light-headed she felt when she thought of a way to provide them with warm clothing. No one should catch cold and get sick because of digging out from this storm. Least of all the handsome Italian man who occupied so much of her thoughts.
She followed Fabrizio’s progress through the crowded lobby. The workers made their way to her. She thanked each of them for his hard work and for making the guests’ snowbound experience almost magical.
But the person she most wanted to thank did not return. Fabrizio had done so much more than shovel snow that morning. From the night he had returned to the Brown with her car instead of going home, he had helped her in every way. She thought about the way he pitched in with the daily activities, even joining in the games, although they made him uncomfortable. The night of the carol sing, his bass voice added so much to the music. He had shown the boys how to make a presipio such as the one his family had at home.
Her eyes drifted in the direction of the music room, where she knew hay filled more than half of the manger. Wistfulness washed over her. Would anyone bother to fill the manger once the snowbound guests left and no one else knew the story? She hoped so. The staff at least could continue the tradition. She had observed so many small deeds of kindness, perhaps inspired by Fabrizio’s story. He epitomized the spirit of cooperation. And more. Her self-made grandfather would approve of the coachman.
Natalie’s heart cried after him. She did not want their friendship to end. She wanted it to grow into something more. For the first time in her life, she felt the weight of her father’s money dragging her down. It stood like the snow that flanked the hotel, cold and impenetrable. She would simply have to find a way to melt it.
On Tuesday morning, the workmen finished clearing a path around the hotel. The sky shone brilliant blue, and t
he sun had begun melting the ice crystals on her window. However, aside from lanes carved through the drifts here and there, snow still stretched as far as Natalie could see. The street level had risen several feet, transforming windows into doors. She could not drive her Cadillac on the street today. Even horses would have trouble wading through the drifts. At least one more day remained to enjoy their snowbound family.
For today, she could still join the excitement downstairs. Perhaps she could organize a few outdoor games for the children, who began misbehaving out of boredom. After braiding her hair, she donned her warmest dress—a jacketed outfit with fur trim that added layers. She arranged with Patrick to invite children to a snowman-making contest in the early afternoon. Fabrizio did not appear in the lobby.
“Mr. Ricci is by way of going back to the garage.” Patrick must have noticed her searching gaze. “The guests will be needin’ their cars soon.”
The news drained some of the warmth out of the sunlight that streamed through the stained glass overhead. Then she heard excited chattering behind her. A couple of boys had seen the notice about the snowman contest and cheered the idea. Natalie pushed Fabrizio to the back of her mind. She looked forward to experiencing the wonder of four feet of snow with the children.
Shortly after dinner, the children assembled with Natalie in the lobby. She assigned five captains and let them choose teams. Their astonished gasps when they walked into the wintry playground made her decision worthwhile. Even though the melting snow was starting to compact, it was still piled higher than anything she had ever seen. Soon the children packed handfuls of snow and rolled them along the edge of the shoveled path. The balls fell apart easily.
Wind stirred snow from the top of the drift and scattered it on the children’s heads. A little girl looked up, confused.
“Is it snowing again?”
Natalie rushed over and brushed away the powder. “No. It’s only the wind. See? The sun is shining.” She wondered if she should have asked more adults to supervise the contest.
At that moment, she spotted a bright green and yellow scarf over the top of a snowdrift. Fabrizio. God had heard her unspoken prayers and sent the help she most wanted.
“The day, it is beautiful.” The scarf wrapped around his throat and mouth muffled the deep voice. Delight filled Natalie when she saw bright red mittens on his hands and a red hat on his head. Fabrizio continued speaking. “No one has called for their cars. I thought, maybe Natalie needs my help. And so here I am.”
A snowball one of the older boys had tossed hit Fabrizio in the chest. “You want a snowball fight, eh?” He scooped snow, bright white against the red mitten, and patted it together. “This snow, it is not good for snowball fights.” He whispered. “It is like—soap powder.” His dark eyes asked permission to initiate a game. She nodded. He smiled, teeth almost as white as the snow that surrounded them, and tossed a handful at her. She laughed and joined in the fun.
Soon white powder covered everyone, melting and seeping through their clothes, and a few children shivered. Natalie’s nose started dripping. She called a halt even though none of the teams had finished their snowmen. The snowball fight substituted for the snowmen, and she did not think the children minded the change of plans. A healthy color spread over their cheeks, and they gave one last yell before returning to the quiet of the lobby.
She paused for a moment at the main entrance while the children dashed inside. Fabrizio waited beside her. I don’t want this to end. Had she spoken aloud?
Fabrizio removed his mittens and reached for her face. Is he going to kiss me? I want him to kiss me. She closed her eyes and felt his fingers tuck a curl behind her ear. A whisper of a touch, which disappeared almost as if she had only imagined it.
“They are waiting for us.” Did his voice reflect the same regret that she felt?
When she opened her eyes, Fabrizio had opened the door for her. He would not meet her eyes.
Natalie did not see Fabrizio again that day or the next. She thought about him, though, longing for another opportunity to spend time with him. A bad case of the sniffles kept her confined to her room. From her window she observed people out clearing the streets. She wasn’t surprised when Patrick called her room on Thursday to announce that her father had sent the Daire family driver, Bob Cochran, to take her home by sleigh.
At the news, she arose from bed and called Annette to help her dress. How tired she was of the three dresses she had taken to Thalia’s party. She laughed at how extravagant she had felt, packing two additional outfits for a one-day trip. Now she would gladly give them all away. Didn’t Fabrizio have four sisters? Would he take offense if she offered them? Men liked to provide for women and not the other way around. She probably shouldn’t make the suggestion. How silly to worry about something she could do so easily.
Fabrizio. She couldn’t go without saying good-bye. She wouldn’t leave him still stranded at the hotel. He was desperate to return to his family. As soon as she descended to the lobby, she asked Patrick to ring for him.
During the time she had spent sequestered in her room, she wondered if she had exaggerated the dark splendor of his eyes, the curls that sprang on his head, the broad cut of his shoulders. When he entered the lobby, dressed as usual in his uniform, she knew that, if anything, she had forgotten how marvelously handsome he was.
“Signorina, you asked for me?”
Signorina. The return to formality disappointed Natalie. She rushed into her explanation. “My father has sent a driver to bring me home.” She gestured toward Cochran, dressed in a uniform almost identical to the one Fabrizio wore. “I know how anxious you are to reach your family. We can take you there on the way to Westminster. Are you free to leave?”
Chapter 8
Fabrizio had managed to push Natalie to the back of his mind during the time she had spent in her room. Her reappearance made his heart sing, informing him his longing for her had only been hiding. He could not, must not, allow it to continue fermenting. He backed away, shaking his head. “Signorina, I cannot ride with you.”
“Of course you can.” Natalie said the words with such fervor that she coughed. “Do you have permission to leave?”
Fabrizio looked to Patrick for help, but he shrugged. “I suggest you accept Miss Daire’s offer. I’ll tell the manager you’ve gone.” A hint of a smirk played with the clerk’s lips.
“So it’s settled then.” Natalie looked relieved.
Fabrizio couldn’t say no to those pleading eyes. “I will come with you.”
“We’ll wait for you while you collect your things.”
Fabrizio dashed down to the basement and gathered his skis and scarf, as well as the red hat and mittens that Natalie had made. He had filled the empty hours of her absence polishing every inch of every car. No duties kept him at the Brown. Heart racing with excitement and exertion, he ran back up the stairs, eager to leave. Any excuse to spend another few minutes with Natalie.
She had donned a lovely navy coat with matching hat, mittens, and scarf made out of some of kind of soft wool. Gray eyes peeked over the scarf and sought him out. He hurried to her side.
“Cochran—that’s the driver—is waiting with the sleigh out front.” Her eyes sent a different message. Do I have to leave?
Fabrizio opened the front door and held on to Natalie’s elbow to steady her. For one breathless second, he allowed himself to imagine entering the Brown as a paying guest, with the lovely young woman on his arm. The illusion played itself out as he lifted her onto the sleigh and joined her on the seat, tucking a blanket around their legs and another around their shoulders. She appeared to be cold, her cheeks as bright red and cheerful as Christmas morning.
Sunshine threw white-encrusted roofs into sharp contrast against the blue sky. The horses trotted down the quiet street, rising and falling as the snow had melted more in some places, less in others. They turned onto Sixteenth Street, where Fabrizio could make out the black hands on the D&F clock tower in the dis
tance. Snow still coated most of the tower. Here a plow had cleared the street, and the sleigh made better progress.
“It’s so beautiful.” Natalie sighed. “It’s like a Currier and Ives lithograph come to life.” Her voice sounded lower than her usual lilting soprano, roughened by a cold.
The sleigh followed the same route the coal wagon had taken a few days earlier. After they made their way across Cherry Creek, Natalie asked, “How do we get to your home from here?”
She sounded wistful. Did she feel the same sadness that he did to see their time together end? Let her go. It was time to say good-bye, arrivederci, and not until tomorrow, fino a domani, as it had been during the days the storm kept them housebound together. The boundary between her world and his was as clear as the horizon that marked the white snow and the blue sky. He straightened his back, increasing the space between them.
“Leave me when we get to Tejon Street. I will tell you when.” He gestured to his cross-country skis. “Now that the snow has stopped, I can ski home.”
Natalie shook her head. “We will take you to your door. I insist.” Her blue hat fell off, and a few strands of blond hair lay loose around her shoulders. Overly bright eyes looked at him. “Are you so eager to say good-bye?”
No! Fabrizio’s heart shouted. “There is no need to trouble yourself, signorina.” Natalie.
After that, silence reigned between them, broken only by distant cries of children at play and the jingle of the horse’s harness. Beside him Natalie started humming. “Dashing through the snow …”
He joined in. “Oh, what fun it is to the ride in a one-horse open sleigh!”
Natalie broke into a paroxysm of coughing after the last note and fell over in a heap.
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