What am I doing here? Fabrizio wondered. This one room alone was almost as big as the first floor of his house. A dozen vases filled with hothouse flowers decorated various tables. His new clothes suffered in comparison to the well-tailored men and women who thronged Natalie.
Natalie introduced him without apology and even with pride to one and all. Her special school friends welcomed him eagerly. Those names he remembered: Thalia Bloom, Maximilian Newbolt, Rose Fletcher, Dr. Thomas Stanton, Patricia Logan, and Jared Booker.
“Natalie tells us that you were the one who rescued her during the big snow.”
“I would never drive a car like that. She was blessed that you were there.”
“She says you have a wonderful voice. Promise you’ll sing for us tonight?”
No wonder Natalie had formed a lasting friendship with these women. They were as kind as she was. Fabrizio relaxed a tiny bit.
Everyone else treated him with distant civility. Behind gloved hands and polite glances, Fabrizio heard the whispers start. “Who is that man? Look at his clothes. Where did Natalie find him?”
At last Fabrizio saw a familiar face, Eleanor Royal, the young woman who had helped Natalie with the activities at the Brown. He allowed a smile on his face and bowed in her direction. “Signorina Royal. It is good to see you again.”
Eleanor raised an eyebrow and took Natalie aside. “What is he doing here?” She whispered in her friend’s ear.
Humiliated, Fabrizio stumbled back. Eleanor had treated him well at the Brown. He thought—well, no matter what he thought. Her reaction to his arrival proved that he did not belong in Natalie’s world. He never would. He grabbed a cup of hot cider from the table and looked for a corner to hide in.
A hand clapped down on his shoulder and a deep voice drawled, “Some women don’t know when to keep their traps shut.” It was Jared Booker, Patricia’s escort. “Let’s get some air.” The two men walked out of the ballroom into the courtyard.
Jared looked as uncomfortable in his suit as Fabrizio felt. “I hope Patricia doesn’t expect me to attend many of these affairs. Give me the open range any day.”
“Signorina Logan seems to be a lovely young woman. You are blessed.”
“And so are you, if I’m reading the signals right. Don’t let the whispers bother you.”
Fabrizio looked through the doors, where he could see Natalie arguing with her father. He shook his head. Daire must regret his decision to give Fabrizio permission to court his daughter. His spirits sank even lower. Everyone at the party could see what a mistake it was.
Patricia Logan appeared at the door. “There you are, Jared! I wondered where you had gone.”
“Duty calls. I’ll take it like a man.” Jared moved toward her with an easy grace. “Remember what I said.”
Jared’s departure left Fabrizio alone in the nippy air of the courtyard. He would rather endure the cold than face the party. The starlit sky taunted him, teasing him with his dreams of a life with Natalie. The sky under which he hoped to profess his love for her now suffocated him.
“Fabrizio?”
The gentle sound of Natalie’s voice froze him in place more effectively than the chill air. He calmed his features and turned to face her.
“Signorina.”
“You call me Natalie.” Tears glittered in her eyes.
“It is best that I call you signorina.” Why did he still want to dry the tears from her eyes?
“You heard what Eleanor said.” She made it a statement, not a question.
“She is right. I do not belong … here.” He made a sweeping gesture meant to indicate the house, the gaiety—her.
“Father said you might feel like that. He told me I should come after you.” Natalie tugged his arm. “Let’s go for a walk. The paths are cleared.”
Fabrizio agreed. After he made his apologies, he could return to his own place.
They walked among the trees, blue spruce intermingled with denuded oaks and aspens. Natalie shivered, and Fabrizio reprimanded himself. She should not be out in the cold after she had been so ill. He gave her his jacket and slipped his arm around her shoulders.
Natalie stopped underneath a spreading elm tree, moonlight gilding its bare branches. “Father told me you felt uncomfortable with the guests tonight. What Eleanor said was inexcusable.”
So that is what they were arguing about. “She only said what others were thinking. Me, I should not have come.”
Natalie shook her head. “You’re wrong. Oh, I won’t pretend people weren’t thinking mean things. But they’re not important. They only came to my party because my father is rich, and now that I’m of age, I have money of my own. But you—I think you see the real me.” She took a deep breath. “You know that today I received my inheritance. What you don’t know—what I haven’t even told my father yet—is how I plan to use the money. I want to help support that orphanage that needed coal during the storm, St. Clara’s. And I want to invest it in new businesses—businesses opened by young men with the same drive that made my grandfather’s and father’s fortunes—maybe even a garage run by an excellent mechanic?”
She was offering his dream to him on a plate. Words froze in Fabrizio’s throat. When at last he could speak, he said, “Do you know why I brought you a red rose?”
Natalie shook her head. “It’s a beautiful flower, but you meant something more?”
“You dressed the staff at the Brown in scarlet. You gave of your own bounty to keep us warm. King Lemuel, in Proverbs, he said that describes a virtuous woman. ‘She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet.’ You are that virtuous woman. The king said a man should treasure her like a precious jewel. I love you, Signorina Natalie. I want to treasure you above all others. But I am a poor man. I am unworthy of your love.”
Natalie swiveled in his arms, facing him, starlight streaming across her face. Fabrizio allowed all the love and longing that he felt for her to show. She ran a gloved finger across his chin. “It is I who am unworthy of you, Fabrizio. You have been my champion, protector, my hero, since we first met.” She lifted her face to gaze at him.
Fabrizio met her lips in a kiss. In this place, on this night, he knew that one day they would become man and wife before the good Lord who had made them both.
Epilogue
December 24, 1914
A year had come and gone since Denver’s big snow. Such momentous news filled the intervening months that the six-day blizzard began to fade into memory. A great war had engulfed Europe after the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand in Sarajevo. So far, Fabrizio’s beloved Italy maintained a neutral stance.
But the big snow of 1913 would always remain the fulcrum of Natalie’s life. That’s when she met the man who today had become her husband.
Natalie changed out of her wedding dress into a red woolen afternoon suit and white linen blouse that coordinated well with the roses woven into her hair. She passed through the kitchen of their second floor apartment, decorated with much affection by Mama Rosa.
“Signora Ricci!” Her husband called to her from the street, where he waited by the Cadillac Model 30 that had brought them together during the storm. Friends who had attended their small wedding ceremony had tied a banner reading HAPPILY MARRIED to their bumper.
“I’ll be right down!” she called. They planned to spend their wedding night in nearby Colorado Springs. They wanted to return to Denver in time for Thalia and Maximilian’s wedding on New Year’s Eve. Rose had married her doctor early in the year, and Patricia and Jared had wed at Thanksgiving. Love had fallen on all four of the school chums during Denver’s “big snow.”
Natalie heard feet on the stairs, and a door flung open. “I can’t wait any longer.” Fabrizio twirled her in a circle and kissed her soundly. “We must go soon, or I will not want to leave.”
Natalie allowed Fabrizio to lead her down the stairs. She paused on the steps, looking out over the showroom. New cars gleamed, an
d a faint smell of oil suggested motor repair in progress. Ricci Motors, a dream come true.
Fabrizio followed the direction of her gaze. “Cara Natalie,” he murmured as he covered her lips with kisses. “Today God has given me a good wife worth more than all the silver in the mountains.”
“And I will strive to deserve your trust, to always clothe you in scarlet.”
Hand in hand, Mr. and Mrs. Fabrizio Ricci stepped forward into the future together.
Bestselling author Darlene Franklin’s greatest claim to fame is that she writes full-time from a nursing home. She lives in Oklahoma, near her son and his family, and continues her interests in playing the piano and singing, books, good fellowship, and reality TV in addition to writing. She is an active member of Oklahoma City Christian Fiction Writers, American Christian Fiction Writers, and the Christian Authors Network. She has written over fifty books and more than 250 devotionals. Her historical fiction ranges from the Revolutionary War to World War II, from Texas to Vermont. You can find Darlene online at www.darlenefranklinwrites.com
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Mountain Christmas Brides Page 58