Dare to Love Again (The Heart of San Francisco Book #2): A Novel (34 page)

Her accusation jolted, and he shot to his feet, palms splayed to the wood. “That’s not fair. You knew from the beginning my stay in San Francisco was temporary, so don’t act like I’m deserting you.” He sucked in a breath to help rein in his temper, releasing it in a steady exhale while he slowly reclaimed his seat. “And I’d appreciate if you’d keep your voice down. This is hard enough without having to say goodbye to the entire household.”

“Never figured you for a coward,” she muttered, jerking out a heavy spindle-back chair pert near bigger than she, as if it weighed nothing at all.

Releasing a noisy sigh, he thumped back in his chair, head in his hand. “Yeah, well, it’s hard enough facing you, much less Lottie.”

He heard her drop into her seat, saw the folded wizened hands on the table out of the corner of his eye. “And Alli, I suppose?”

A silent groan rose in his throat at the very sound of her name. “Trust me, Miss Penny—it’s better I go,” he whispered.

She grunted, a sound that any other time would have made him smile. “If heartbreak can be considered better.”

The coffeepot began to bubble and brew, filling the kitchen with the nutty aroma of the Colombian coffee her nephew always gave her for Christmas, making Nick homesick before he ever set foot out the door. Silence hung thick in the air between them while Miss Penny bustled about, clattering dishes. She grabbed a knife and whacked off a thick slice of the cinnamon loaf Mrs. Lemp had prepared for breakfast. He jumped back when she slammed the plate and fork on the table before him, the saucer skittering across the wood, as twitchy as his nerves.

“And trust you?” she snapped, snatching the coffeepot from the stove. “Well, yes, until last night, when I found out you were running out on us.” She poured his cup as ferociously as she glared, plops of steaming liquid scalding his hand. “From my nephew, no less, rather than you—the man I took into my home, loved like a son, fed until the pantry was bare—”

Guilt strangled his words. “Miss Penny, please—”

She sloshed coffee into her cup, then banged the pot back on the burner, returning to her chair with fire in her eyes. “Don’t you ‘Miss Penny’ me, young man—there’s something going on here and I want to know what it is.”

His jaw ground tight as he snatched the pen and slid the paper close, determined to get Alli’s letter written before he left. “I have things to attend to in New York, that’s all I can say.”

She slammed a palm to the table, shimmering the coffee in both of their cups. “No, that’s not all you can say to people who love you. And now you’re going to go and break that poor girl’s heart too, aren’t you?”

He bludgeoned the table, searing her with a heated look. “Blast it, Gram—” He froze, expelling a weary breath while he gouged the bridge of his nose. “I mean . . . Miss Penny.” When he finally looked up, he didn’t even bother to mask the grief in his eyes, his voice a painful rasp. “Don’t you think I’m bleeding inside? Over leaving you—Lottie—the girls?” He looked away, fighting the sting of moisture as he lapsed into a vacant stare. “Over Alli.” His eyelids felt like lead as they closed. “I love her, Miss Penny. Never wanted to, never expected to, never tried to.” A fractured breath shuddered from his lips, voice barely audible. “It just happened.”

“Then stay.” Her frail hand lighted on his arm.

“It’s not that easy,” he whispered. “If I stay, the people I love are in danger.”

“You’re in trouble then?”

He looked up, seeing the tender love of Gram in those glossy blue eyes. “Yes, ma’am, I’m in trouble. Which is why I have to go back, and please believe me—I can’t say any more.”

“Will you return?” she asked, the grief in her eyes breaking his heart.

He stared. And then in a harsh catch of his breath, he swallowed her up in his arms, tears of his own burning his nostrils. “I hope so—someday.” His eyes squeezed tightly over her shoulder. “No,” he whispered, steel edging his tone. “I pray so.”

“Good boy,” she said with a gentle pat of his back, pulling away
to cup his face in her hands. “Then I’ll join you in that prayer, Nicky, because you’ve become the son that I lost, and I don’t ever want to go through that again, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She nodded at the blank sheet of paper before him. “Are you going to ask her to wait?”

He expelled a wavering sigh, shaking his head. “I can’t guarantee I’ll be back.”

She rose, palms flat to the table as she loomed over him with the same menacing glare Gram used to give. “Are you saying my prayers don’t carry any weight, Nicholas Barone?”

“No, ma’am,” he said with a cuff of his neck, the barest of smiles shadowing his lips. “But you and I both know God doesn’t always answer prayers the way that we want.”

Her frail chest expanded and released with a weary gust of air. “No, He doesn’t, Nicky, but this time He will have two stubborn old women, ten relentless children, and one very pretty girl with a stick hounding Him to no end. So I suggest you tell that young woman you love her and intend to come back, understood? Because if our prayers have anything to say about it, Nicholas, you’ll be back giving her a good dose of cranky in no time.”

“Mr. Nick?”

His gaze darted to the kitchen door where Lottie stood in a pink flannel nightgown, rubbing her eyes.
No, please . . .

“You didn’t kiss me before I went to bed,” she whispered, padding across the linoleum in bare feet. She crawled into his lap and laid her head to his chest, rosebud mouth expanding in a sweet, little yawn. “How come?”

He cuddled her close, his smile sad at the familiar scent of talcum powder and a hint of animal crackers he’d given her to
stash in her drawer. “Sure I did, Lottie, but it was so late when I came home that you were sound asleep and never even knew.”

“Really?” She tilted her head as if she were peeking up.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a kiss to her nose, “and I just kissed you awhile ago too.”

She pulled away to peer up intently, sky-blue eyes blinking. “Why?”

Heat singed his collar, and his gaze flicked up to see the pinched lips of Miss Penny before he wrapped his arms around Lottie to draw her close. “Because I’m . . .” He stalled, the prospect of telling her he was leaving every bit as difficult as he knew it would be. “I . . . have to go away for a while, Lottie.”

She jerked back again, the sudden sheen in her eyes all but ripping his heart out. “Where?” she whispered, voice soft and frail like the little girl he held in his arms.

“Back home, sweetheart, to where I used to live.”

“But why?”

Miss Penny hiked a brow and Nick blew out a shaky breath, tucking his head to Lottie’s. “Because I have something I need to do, darling, and it’ll probably take me awhile.”

“How long?”

He glanced up at Miss Penny and expelled a weary sigh, taking Lottie’s little hand in his. “That depends on your prayers, Lottie, and Miss Penny’s.” He tucked a curl over her ear. “Will you pray for me to come back?”

A pudgy hand to his cheek assured him she would, along with tender words that thickened his throat. “Are you and God friends again, Mr. Nick? Because Miss Penny and I have been praying for a long time that you would forgive Him.”

Forgive
Him?
His heart wrenched.
No, sweetheart, I’m the one
in need of forgiveness
.
“Yes . . . yes we are, Lottie, so thank you for your prayers.”

She patted his cheek. “You’re welcome, Mr. Nick. And Miss Penny and me and the girls will pray every day that you come back, okay? Because we may be orphans, but we’re all family now and you too—God’s family.” She turned to grin at Miss Penny. “Ain’t that so, Miss Penny?”

The old woman’s gaze glimmered with moisture as she swiped at her eyes. “Yes, darling, it is. God’s Word says, ‘I will not leave you orphans.’ ”

She turned back to Nick with a peaceful smile, tone patient as if she were the adult and he were the wide-eyed child in need of comfort. “See? He’ll take care of you too.” Scrambling to stand on his lap, she rested small hands on his shoulders. “So even though your mama and papa and Gram are gone to heaven, God gave you to us, Mr. Nick, to be in our family, so you just have to come back. ’Cause everybody knows God takes care of His family, okay?”

He nodded, unable to speak for the emotion clogging his throat.

She pressed a tender kiss to his lips, as soft and gentle as the wisp of an angel wing. “I love you, Mr. Nick.” A tiny yawn escaped as she leaned her head against his. “Will you tuck me in? I’m sleepy.”

“You bet,” Nick said, voice gruff with tenderness while he bundled her in his arms. He ducked his head to Lottie’s so Miss Penny couldn’t see the sheen of tears in his eyes.

God’s family.
Which meant he was no longer alone.
“ ‘I will not leave
you orphans,’ ”
Miss Penny had said, and somehow he felt the approval of Gram, Mom, and Pop from afar, assuring him it was true. He nuzzled his nose into Lottie’s soft curls while he carried
her up the stairs, the bong of the clock in the parlour matching the loud thud of his heart.

“He’ll take care
of you,”
Lottie had said with the utmost assurance, and at the thought, a warmth invaded his chest that had less to do with the small bundle of heaven in his arms than it did with the bright glow of a little girl’s faith.

“Everybody knows God takes
care of His family.”

“I didn’t,” he whispered. Laying her back in her bed, he tucked her in and gave her a kiss before making his way from the room, the barest of smiles tipping the edge of his mouth.

Till now.

26

A
lli stared through red-rimmed eyes, the rain-splattered panes of glass in the conservatory revealing a bleak, gunmetal sky that wept as much as she.

“Did he say why?” Her mother whispered, stroking Allison’s arm, which now lay as limp on the cushion as the letter she held in her hand. The same letter Nick had couriered to her home early this morning, telling her he’d left for New York via train.

She shook her head, unable to fathom why Nick Barone would tell her he loved her, then just turn around and leave. “Unfinished business,” she said in a nasal tone, handkerchief soggy. “Something he has to do in New York.”

“If it takes my last breath, I’ll find
the slime who did it someday and gun him down
too.”

Her eyes wavered closed as a sob rose in her throat.
Oh, Nick . . .

Loving arms pulled her close. “Alli, I’m so very sorry, but surely he intends to come back.

Alli sniffed and blew her nose. “Yes, he promised he would try, but he has no idea when. Said it could take six months or longer, maybe even a year . . .” Her voice broke on a heave. “If at all.”

“Oh, Alli . . .” Her mother cradled her in her arms, rocking and soothing her like she’d done in all the tragedies of her life—
skinned knees, fractured arms, broken hearts . . .
Roger
. “Nick loves you, darling—I could see it every time you two were together this last month, and he told you so himself, didn’t he?”

She nodded dumbly, recalling with painful clarity the intensity of his manner when he’d kissed her goodbye at the door after their awful ordeal last night. A mixture of sorrow and love in those gray eyes she wouldn’t soon forget, and a desperation when he’d crushed her close, as if he never wanted to let her go . . .

“So, here you two are—why aren’t you playing whist with the others?”

Alli’s head jerked up at the sound of her uncle’s voice. The pinch between his brows deepened as he squatted before her. “Alli? What’s wrong—why are you crying?”

Her mother expelled a heavy sigh and patted Uncle Logan’s arm as if to assure him everything was fine. “Nick’s left town for a while for some sort of business dealing in New York,” she said quietly before Alli could utter a word, “so understandably she’s upset since he didn’t tell her beforehand—just wrote her a letter.” Caitlyn fanned loose curls from Alli’s face, her smile shaky at best. “But I assured her he cares for her and will probably come back soon.”

A heave shuddered Alli’s body as she blotted her face. “Oh, Mother, I hope so.”

“Alli,” Uncle Logan whispered, his face a composite of grief and conviction that iced the blood in her veins, “please know how painful this is for me to say . . .” He paused long enough to engulf her hand in his own, his eyes locked on hers. “But I hope he doesn’t.”

She flung his hand away and sprang to her feet, almost toppling him in the process. “You have never given him a chance, Uncle Logan, not once, despite the fact that I’m in love with the man and he’s in love with me.”

“He’s lying to you, Alli,” he said with a sorrow she felt keenly. Gaze tender, he rose slowly, regarding her with a candor she’d come to respect and admire.

Until now.

“Which is exactly why I haven’t given him a chance up to now—I sensed it in my gut. Believe me, Alli, after Roger, the last thing I want is for you to be involved with another charlatan, a man you can’t trust.”

“I
can
trust him!” she shouted, body quivering as she barricaded stiff arms to her waist.

“Logan, please . . .” Her mother intervened with a hand to his arm. “Allison doesn’t need this right now. She needs our love and support.”

“I agree,” he said quietly with a firm squeeze of her mother’s hand, “but she also needs the truth, because in the end, Cait, that’s the greatest love and support we can provide.”

Allison backed away, distancing herself from the words she didn’t want to hear. “The truth is, Uncle Logan, Nick loves me and I love him, and you’ll just have to get used to that.”

“I can’t,” he whispered, grief bleeding into his words like fear was bleeding into her heart. “The man’s a fraud, sweetheart. He lied on his police application. Led Captain Peel to believe he was on the force in Lower Manhattan for several years, but not only is there no Nick Barone on any police roll in the state of New York, but it appears he was a member of a gang. A con man who did a short stint in prison for manslaughter . . . right before he abandoned the woman who was carrying his child.”

“Noooooo—I don’t believe you!” Her voice edged toward hysteria, unable to fathom the man she loved was capable of anything so heinous.

“I’m sorry, Alli, but it’s true,” Logan whispered, tone thick with
regret. “According to my source, Nick Barone is a wanted man who stole from his fiancée before he went on the lam. Supposedly the family is still looking for him.”

Hands to her ears, Allison shook her head, refusing to listen. “No . . . you’ve hated him from the beginning, Uncle Logan, and you’d say anything to discredit him, but Nick will be back soon and he’ll prove you wrong, I promise . . .”

Her uncle reached for her hand. “No, Alli, he won’t . . . because he’s not coming back.”

“You don’t know that!” she screamed, tears blurring her vision. She snatched the letter from the love seat and thrust it forward, eyes wild. “He promised, Uncle Logan, and he will . . .”

“Yes,” he whispered, her pain reflected in his eyes, “but he promised his fiancée he’d return too, and yet he didn’t—until now.” He exhaled. “After I offered him money to leave, I might add, which I’ll admit he refused at the time but I suspect will claim before long.”

Her mother gasped while a harsh breath lodged in Alli’s throat. The room swayed as blood drained from her face, bile rising along with a heave.
God, no, please, not again.

“Oh, God help us.” Her mother’s rasp of horror echoed Alli’s own.

“I didn’t like Barone from the beginning, it’s true, Allison,” her uncle said quietly, “but Captain Peel vouched for him and he served a purpose in teaching you to protect yourself, so I ignored any misgivings I had. But when he made his intentions clear, I had no choice but to investigate and told Barone as much last week at your party, offering a tidy sum if he’d leave San Francisco—and you—forever, which it appears he did.”

God, why?
Tears spilled down Alli’s cheeks as her eyes drifted closed, barely aware of her mother’s arms enfolding her, tugging her back to the love seat.

“Oh, Alli . . . ,” her mother whispered, and Alli collapsed into her hold with weeping so painful, she wanted to die.
Why, Nick . . . why?

“Alli, forgive me, please,” Uncle Logan whispered. “I love you, sweetheart, and this was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”

She nodded against her mother’s chest, pulling back to blow her nose on the clean handkerchief he pressed into her hand. “I kn-know you do, Uncle L-Logan,” she whispered, her voice as broken as her heart, “and I love you too, you know that, but I’m in love with Nick Barone so deeply, that I’m not sure I’m strong enough to go through this again . . .”

With a low groan, he swept her up in his arms, voice fierce as he tucked his head against hers. “Oh, you are, Alli, and as God is my witness, your mother and I will see to it. You’re not in this alone, sweetheart—don’t ever forget that. We’re family, and family is all the strength you need to get through.” He eased back to take her hand in his while he gripped her mother’s with the other, a sheen in his eyes conveying a depth of feeling she’d seldom seen in her uncle before. “That and God.” He squeezed Alli’s hand as he smiled at her mother. “Faith and family, Alli—an unbeatable combination that I learned about from a very wise woman.”

“Oh, Logan . . .” Her mother gripped his hand before turning to Alli with tears in her eyes. “Your uncle’s right, Allison—with God and family, weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” She caressed Alli’s face with a tender palm. “Somehow, some way . . . God will see us through.”

Alli nodded, a heave shuddering her body as she attempted to stand, legs teetering so much, Uncle Logan braced her with an arm. “I . . . love you both very much,” she whispered, “but I . . . really need to be alone right now, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” her mother said, shoring her up with a gentle arm to her waist. “You get some rest now, and we’ll pray about this in the morning, all right?”

“Alli . . .” Uncle Logan pulled her into his arms, the scent of lime flooding her senses with memories of strong arms and skinned knees. His words were quiet and warm in her ear, carrying an assurance she so wanted to believe. “You’ll get through this, I promise—we’ll see to it.”

“Thanks, Uncle Logan—I hope so.” She grazed his cheek with a kiss and then her mother’s. “If you’d tell Cassie and the others I went to bed early with a headache, I’d appreciate it.”

“Certainly, darling. How about some warm milk?” her mother asked, walking her to the door.

“No, thank you, Mother—just a warm bed.”

“All right, then. Good night, Allison.” Her mother gave her a tight hug.

“Allison.”

On the verge of more tears, she turned at the sound of her uncle’s call.

Love radiated from eyes resolute with a press of his jaw. “You’re in love with something that doesn’t exist, Alli, so trust me, the feelings will wane quickly, just like they did with Roger.”

She stared, unable to do anything but nod before she turned away.

Something that doesn’t exist.

Yes
, she thought as she fled to the shelter of her room.

Except for the pain . . .

———

“I’m worried, Logan,” Cait whispered at the door, turning to face the man who had become her main source of strength when it came to family crises of late.

“Don’t be, Cait—she’s a strong girl—she’ll weather this.”

A cold chill shivered her body, and she buffed her arms, making her way to the love seat with a sick feeling inside over how wrong she’d been about Nick. She had liked him, come to respect him, and had even secretly hoped he might be the right man for Alli. And now this—a revelation so shocking, it left her depleted and depressed for what lay ahead for her daughter. She sat down and Logan followed suit, hunched with hands clasped over his knees and concern in his eyes. She quickly looked away, certain the tenderness of his gaze would tip tears ready to spill from a tide pool of emotions that seemed to drown her of late. Perching on the edge of her seat, she put her head in her hands, shoulders slumped and water welling beyond her control.

“Cait . . .” His gentle touch caused a heave to rise in her throat despite her most ardent attempt to ward it off, and when a sob broke from her lips, there was no stopping the pull of his arms. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, cradling her to his chest. “I promise.”

She attempted to nod, but the heaves only came harder. Her arms slipped to his waist before she even knew what she’d done, clinging as if he were a lifeline while she wracked his body with tears. She could feel the strength of his arms as he held her, the warmth of his breath as he lay his head against hers, and she found she was no longer willing to battle life alone. The scent of lime and spice taunted, convincing her she not only needed Logan McClare in her life and those of her children, but she wanted him too. An unsettling revelation that left her as vulnerable and afraid as her daughter upstairs. This man was blood to her children and loved them as deeply as if they were his own, a powerful attribute that drew her as surely as his arms.

Her tears finally subsided, and the warmth of his hold flamed in her cheeks when she realized her body lay snug against his.
She jerked up with a start, apology in her tone while she awkwardly swiped at her eyes. “Goodness, this is becoming a habit, it would seem.”

“One can only hope,” he whispered, fingers caressing her face. “And pray . . .”

His gaze flicked to her lips for the briefest of moments, but it was more than enough, swooping her stomach so hard, she jolted to her feet, voice breathless. “Oh, Logan, I can’t—”