Firefighter's Doorstep Baby / The Soldier's Untamed Heart: Firefighter's Doorstep Baby / The Soldier's Untamed Heart. Nikki LoganЧитать онлайн книгу.
in Rome can you get views like you have? Sitting on the patio, seeing the lake, the gorgeous hills. It’s fantastic.”
“Doesn’t offer a lot of opportunity for young people, though.”
“Ah, but that depends on what opportunities one’s looking for. I have a job, a child. My opportunities now lie in different areas than when I was single and fancy free.”
She smiled again and Cristiano was struck by her happy outlook. She seemed not to have a care in the world, though he knew differently. What was her secret to that optimistic outlook?
Not having to deal with post-traumatic stress disorder, for one thing.
“I think I’ll take the baby to the lake later. Want to come with us?” she asked.
“Will it be warm enough for him?” he asked.
“In the sunshine. I guess you’ve done it a thousand times.”
“It never gets old. The lake is beautiful all times of the year. My ankle was broken a while ago. I’m still getting it back in shape. The sooner I’m fit, the sooner I can return to work. Want to go Jet Skiing?”
She laughed and shook her head. “Sitting on the beach is enough.”
Chapter Five
CRISTIANO drove them in the car back to the village. He and Mariella took the baby to the shore near the marina. The beach was a mixture of sand and pebbles sloping gently to the water’s edge. There was a couple sitting in nearby chairs, reading. She waved to them while Cristiano settled on a spot some distance away so as not to disturb their tranquility with their presence.
He brought a blanket and soon Dante was taking tummy time facing away from the water, so he was facing up hill. When he grew frustrated, Mariella sat him up, holding him lightly so he wouldn’t fall over. He could almost balance by himself. He settled in first gnawing on the plastic keys, then throwing them down. She retrieved them and handed them back.
Again
And again.
Cristiano stretched out beside them, laughing at the baby’s antics. Mariella tossed him the keys.
“You try it,” she said.
Dante turned to see the keys and grinned at Cristiano.
“Don’t want to lose your keys,” he said, dangling them in front of the baby. “Especially when you’re older and that means wheels.”
The tranquility of the setting soothed. Mariella coughed again, wishing she’d get over the smoke problem soon. Her chest felt dry and tight. Taking a deep breath, she relished the clean air scented with evergreen. The sun sparkled on the water. In the distance she could see a boat bobbing near the center of the lake. Was that a fisherman?
Dante threw the keys again.
Cristiano retrieved them and handed them to Dante. He threw them again and looked at him, a wide smile on his face. Her heart contracted. She loved this precious baby.
“It’s so lovely here, even if we can’t swim today. Maybe we’ll come back for a visit when Dante’s older. Maybe continue the search for his father if we don’t find him this time.”
“How can you have spent so much time with your friend and not found out more information?”
“She was in the late stages of pregnancy and very ill. We spent more time talking about our shared memories, reliving good times. She changed the subject anytime I brought up who Dante’s father might be. He could be named for the man, for all I know. She spoke of what she hoped for in Dante’s future. The future she’d never see.”
“Maybe she truly didn’t want her son to know his father.”
“Maybe.” She wondered if she was doing wrong trying to find the man. He obviously wasn’t as nice as Cristiano. She couldn’t imagine any woman not want a child of his to know him.
“It’s nice here,” she said, turning slightly and fussing with the baby to cover the fact she was studying Cristiano’s profile. He made her heart happy. He could have been in movies, she thought. The rugged hero rescuing the heroine from danger then kissing her silly. And her heart almost melted when he played with a baby. Why was a strong man giving his attention to a baby so sexy?
She sighed a bit, wishing he’d pay that much attention to her.
“Problem?” he asked, glancing at her, one eyebrow raised.
“No, just thinking how nice it is here and how horrible the other night was.’ She shivered involuntarily. “We could have died.”
“But you didn’t.” His voice came sharp.
She brushed her fingertips over Dante’s head. He was perfectly content sitting on the blanket and throwing his plastic keys. She wished she could be so easily satisfied.
“I know that. As a firefighter, you’ve probably seen lots of death.”
He frowned and sat up, resting an arm on his upraised knee. “It’s not something anyone gets used to,” he said.
“I imagine not.” She could have bitten her tongue and not said anything. How many other lives had he saved, and how many had he not been able to save? There was more to firefighting than just pouring water on a fire.
“Do you think I can raise him?” she asked a few moments later.
“You can do anything if you want it enough. Remember that. From what I see, you are doing a fine job.”
“Tell me more about growing up around here.”
“Weekends are busy times for restaurants. My father worked hard. My mother with him, until she died. But even though we didn’t see much of them our childhood was still magical. Especially when my grandfather was alive. His life was different from our everyday life. He knew the trees, the forest, fish in the lake.”
She fell silent, thinking about the vacations she and her parents had enjoyed. It seemed so long ago and far away. Would visiting some of the spots bring the memories closer? Or only emphasize she was alone? She wanted Dante to see all of Italy. They’d make new memories.
“I’m going into Monta Correnti tomorrow. The doctors at the hospital wanted to check me and Dante again, make sure there are no lasting effects. I need to get access to a printer so I can print up another picture of Ariana. Maybe check around in Monta Correnti to see if anyone recognizes her.”
“Park near the town square. Easy to get to an Internet café, shops and the hospital.”
“We’ll find it,” she said cheerfully, wishing he’d offered to drive them into town.
After visiting the hospital the next morning and getting a clean bill of health for both her and Dante, Mariella wandered the center part of Monta Correnti. First stop after the hospital was the Internet café where she was able to print a color photograph of Ariana. Staring at the picture of her friend, she remembered how vital she’d always been when younger. The illness had robbed her of so much.
Then she pushed the baby in the stroller, wandering down side streets, walking around the square. When she saw a likely tourist spot, she showed the photo. No one recognized Ariana.
It was after one when Mariella turned back onto the wide piazza and gazed at the buildings. Rosa seemed to leap out at her. That was Cristiano’s family’s restaurant—the one with the excellent marinara sauce. She pushed the stroller along, wondering if she dared try Dante in the restaurant. So far the baby had been in perfect harmony with all they’d done. But she’d hate to be in the middle of a meal and have him start screaming his head off.
As they approached, Mariella saw a nice open-air space connected to the restaurant. Much better for the baby, she thought. The day was warm enough to sit outside.
Once seated, with a baby highchair for Dante, Mariella perused the