Her Italian Soldier

“No. I’m too tired for that and know you must be, too.” After a pause he said, “In a short period of time it seems I’ve got used to your company. I like the idea that you’re just down the hall from me. You’re easy to be around, do you know that? No woman of my acquaintance has ever had that particular quality.”

“It’s funny you’d say that. During the divorce Ryan accused me of having the opposite effect on him. He claimed he’d started walking on eggshells around me.”

“But of course.” His Italian shrug fascinated her. Everything fascinated her. “That was his guilt talking. In my country, there’s a name for a man like that.”

Something about the way he said that name caused her to smile. “In my country, too.”

He reciprocated with a smile of his own. “As I was saying, you have a soothing effect that draws people to you. No wonder Mel Jardine didn’t want to lose you after he left the hospital.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. This man knew to say all the right things. She was starting to get frightened by the strength of her feelings for him. “Buona notte, Lucca.”

Lucca had got used to having her around. In just a few days he no longer felt like he was falling apart. He had Annabellissima to thank for this much of a sense of well being.

She was bellissima, from the inside out. Lucca wasn’t about to let her go. He hadn’t begun to plumb her depths.

It was time to talk to his father. Lucca decided to make good on his promise to her and call him now. Guilio would probably be in bed, but not asleep yet. Most likely he was enthralled in a good biography, his favorite kind of reading material.

After getting ready for bed, he stretched out in the most comfortable position for his leg and reached for the phone.

“Lucca?” his father cried after the second ring. From the sound of his voice, Lucca could tell he was wide-awake. That was good. “What a surprise to hear from you tonight! How are you, figlio mio?”

Much better than he’d expected to be when he’d first stumbled through the orchard to reach the farmhouse. “Molto bene, Papa. More to the point, how are you?”

“I couldn’t be better now that I can hear your voice.

You’re not still upset with me about not selling you those properties are you?”

Lucca gripped his phone tighter. “No matter how run-down they are, I still want to buy them, Papa, but that’s not why I’m calling you now. I know it’s late. If you want, I’ll phone you back in the morning.”

“Are you demente?” he boomed. “You call me, then you say I’ll speak to you in the morning?”

His father would never change. “I just wanted to be sure you weren’t too tired.”

“If I were taking my last breath of life, I wouldn’t be too tired to talk to you.”

He felt his father’s love and a bolt of guilt zapped him for not having called him sooner, but he hadn’t gotten his pain under control until now. “I have a confession to make.”

“What’s another one in the long list of my son’s antics?” his father teased.

“This is a big one.”

“You got married and are bringing her home?” The hope in his father’s voice never ceased to amaze him. To Guilio, marriage was everything. Certainly for his father, being married had kept his life stable and fulfilling.

“Not exactly. I’ve left the military for good.”

After a pause Guilio said, “I don’t believe it.” His voice trembled for joy. “What will you do now that you’re coming home?” he demanded.

“I’m going to be a farmer like I always wanted to be.”

Rather than an outburst, for once all he heard was silence on the other end. Lucca knew it wasn’t the answer his father was waiting to hear, but it had to be said. “Papa? Are you still there?”

“Of course I’m still here. There had to be a reason why you suddenly left the service. What was it?”

That brilliant business brain of his never stopped thinking. “I got an injury to my leg that makes me ineligible to be a pilot.”

“How bad is it?” Guilio asked in a thick tone.

“I walked up the steep incline to the farmhouse on my own two legs. That’s how bad I am.” It was the truth. He was thankful to be able to say it.