Nobody's Angel (45 page)

“Antonio didn’t like to go to the doctors.” Luke saw Angel flinch and Marc held her tighter. Mrs. Giardano continued. “He smoked too much. I’m so glad none of you picked up that habit,” she said as an aside, smiling through her tears. “But one morning, he coughed up blood. I insisted he go to the doctor’s and they found stage-four lung cancer that had spread to his liver.”

Angel gasped and Marc held her up when she would have collapsed. Luke wasn’t sure why her mother was telling them this, especially with so many non-family members listening, but she seemed to need to get something off her chest.

“They told him they could do radiation and chemo, but that would only buy him another 6-12 months. His quality of life would be…” She looked down at the mangled tissue in her hand. “Not good.” She took a deep breath and then Luke felt her gaze on him once more, as if her next words had special meaning for him. His heart drummed in his chest. “Luke, that was a week before your wife was injured on the mountain.”

Luke’s mind returned to that life-altering day. He’d spoken with Antonio before the man had gone down to Maggie’s side—to let him know she was three months pregnant. The man had promised to do everything he could to bring her back—and had insisted on going down alone, which Luke later learned was against SAR procedures. Everyone had known the avalanche threat that day. He’d argued privately with his chief for a couple minutes, which had frustrated Luke no end. He had just wanted someone to go get Maggie. Then the chief had nodded in agreement and Antonio had loaded up the gear and rappelled down the scree slope toward Maggie.

As understanding of what had happened that day dawned, Mrs. Giardano smiled at him. “Chief Morgan told me at Antonio’s visitation of my husband’s insistence he be the only SAR member to attempt to save your wife.” Tears flowed down her cheeks unheeded now.

Rafe patted her shoulder. “You don’t have to do this, Mama.” She laid her hand on his and stilled his movements.

Damn. What more could there be?

“Antonio didn’t want a lingering death filled with suffering and medical bills. If it were his time to go, he wanted to die performing his duties. To die a hero. I’m convinced if he hadn’t died that day, he would have continued to volunteer for other impossible missions until his time did come, one way or another.” When she finished, she broke into sobs and held onto her eldest son.

“Oh,
Dio!
” As Angel broke down and sobbed, Marc sat down and pulled her into his lap, letting her cry against his shoulder.

Luke reached out to Angel’s mama, squeezing her forearm. She broke away from her son and turned to him. Luke’s heart swelled as he felt the love emanating from her every pore.

“But I want you to know this. I’m certain he tried his best to save your wife. And your baby. The captain told me she was pregnant. I’m so sorry…” Her voice broke. She sounded anything but certain about her husband’s death.

Luke met her gaze and held it steady. “Mrs. Giardano, I was there that day. Antonio did everything he could to get Maggie out safely. He followed every procedure, well, except going down to her without a partner. If not for the avalanche, he’d have succeeded.”

She smiled and wiped her cheeks. “Thank you, Luke, and I’m so sorry about your wife and baby.”

Then she blinked and raised herself to her full five-foot-six inches or so and announced, “If anyone still has an appetite, please eat up all this food.”

Strong woman, just like her daughter.

* * *

Angelina held onto Marc.

“Shhh. I have you, Angelina.”

Memories of her dancing lessons with Papa flooded back. It was the weekend before he died. He’d said she’d need to know how to dance so she could go to her prom. She’d wanted to go to the movies with her friends. She was only seventeen and the prom was a year away. But she’d stayed and was always glad she had. It was one of her most precious memories of Papa.

Now she realized he’d known he wouldn’t be there to teach her later.

“Your Papa didn’t want you to see him waste away,” Marc said. “He wanted to face death on his terms. He was a very brave man.”

Instead of more tears, Marc’s words, along with Mama’s and Luke’s, brought some peace to her heart. Of course, the floodgates had already been released and Marc’s white silk shirt was wet where her head rested against his chest. Then she realized Mama’s revelation hadn’t just opened old wounds, they had shifted her world back onto its axis.

The wilderness hadn’t controlled Papa. He’d faced her on his own terms. And, while she knew he would have done everything in his power to bring a young pregnant woman to safety, she was glad he’d been there to provide her with comfort in the end.

Angelina had been insecure since her Papa’s seemingly senseless death, never certain about anything in life, always afraid to make decisions for fear they would be the wrong ones with equally disastrous results. Lord knew she’d made many foolish decisions in those years and suffered the consequences—Allen Martin being a major case in point.

But she’d also avoided the joys of the natural paradise her father loved so much. She’d lived in fear, locking herself away from such an important part of her world here.

And Marc’s.

She knew they were both strong Italians and there would be lots of emotional upheavals in their lives—probably more than Marc wanted to deal with. But the only emotion that mattered was love, and they had that in abundance for each other.

She’d take a chance with Marc. He needed her, to complete him. And she knew he, in turn, would give her wings. To fly.

Voli
.

Epilogue

Karla slid her hand under the thermal blanket and laid it on Adam’s bare chest, over his heart. She knew the monitors beeped his heartbeat at steady intervals, but she needed the reassurance that only came from feeling his heart beating against the palm of her hand.

His skin was so hot, dry. They couldn’t keep the fever down. She pulled the blanket up to the bandage on the side of his neck that continued to seep blood, especially when he thrashed around as he had been doing since last night. The cougar also had clawed his side, which was covered in a bandage under the blanket. But most of the damage had been to his back and neck.

Tears blurred her eyes. He lay so deathly still now. They kept him heavily sedated because of the painful wounds he’d suffered, but she longed to see those crinkles in his eyes when he smiled. To know he had the resolve to fight his way back to her. To hear him growl or give her that special look that told her she’d gotten through to him, good or bad.

He stirred in his sleep. Since last night, he’d been restless, mumbling and thrashing about, as he appeared to fight old battles in his head. She’d stayed by his side for three days and nights, occasionally letting the others in, but Marc said she was probably the one he needed most. The one who could pull him back.

She didn’t understand why he’d said that, but didn’t argue either. Adam was only allowed two visitors at a time and she hated to give up her spot here for even short breaks. The nurses, as well as her friends, tried to get her to leave from time to time, but rarely succeeded.

Adam always took care of everyone else; never thought about himself. That was going to change. “Adam Montague, you’d better hear this,” she whispered. “You are precious to me and I’m going to take care of you, whether you like it or not.”

Adam needed her. He’d risked his life to protect her. Just as he’d done in that bus station, only this time, he’d nearly died. Now he needed her to protect him, watch over him. She wanted to be the first person he saw when he awoke.

If he ever woke up.

She laid her head on his arm, the one that didn’t have the IV tube puncturing his hand. Just one more wound on his battered body. She hadn’t been able to look at his back at the scene or when they’d changed the bandages. From Marc’s and Angelina’s reactions, it sounded really bad. She couldn’t stand to see his beautiful body so horribly mutilated.

All to save her.

Again.

“Garcia! D’Alessio! Report!”

Karla sprang up to look at Adam’s face contorted in sleep, his head thrashing about on the pillow. His hand flung up and would have hit her in the face if she hadn’t caught it in midair and held on tight.

“Shhh. It’s okay, Adam. You’re safe. I’m here.”

Her voice seemed to calm him, which made her feel good. Did he know she was here with him?

“I lost them, baby.”

She smiled. He’d never used any endearment other than “hon” or “honey” with her before, and he used that with other women, as well. But the despair on his face caused her to reach out and stroke the worry lines from his forehead.

“Oh, God, Joni. I lost so many of them.”

Joni
Her hand stilled. He thought she was his dead wife. Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. Well, if he wanted Joni right now, she would be Joni.

“You did everything you could, Adam. You were a brave soldier.”

He growled. “Marine…know better.”

Karla smiled. She’d forgotten that he’d told her while writing to her from Iraq that calling a Marine a soldier was an insult. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I forgot myself.” His eyes remained closed and she leaned closer. “You’re my hero, Adam. Don’t you forget that.”

“Nobody’s hero.” She thought he’d fallen asleep again, he’d become so still. “Lost you, too, didn’t I?” he whispered.

Tears stung her eyes. “No, Adam, you’ll always have me. God brought us together” Forever.

“And our baby boy.”

Oh, God, he’d never told her that he’d lost a child. Adam kept so many of his hurts bottled up inside. She cleared her throat to get past the tears. “There’ll be other children.” She hoped. He would be such a wonderful father.

“Too late.”

No, we have all the time in the world—if you’ll just stop pushing me away
.

The days of her letting him ignore her were over. She’d waited for Adam for nine years and, by God, she was going to have him. If that meant becoming a submissive for him, she’d learn how to do that.

When he’d bound her in ropes the other night, rather than feel constricted, she’d actually felt freed. Release through restraints, he’d said. She’d felt so precious and cared for. Adam had been so incredibly gentle, considerate, and tender. Long ago, she’d wondered what kind of lover he would be. Well, that night had shown her he could be gentle, even with the BDSM stuff.

“Excuse me, Miss.” Karla looked up to find a nurse’s tech. “Two family members would like to come back for a quick visit.” She looked down at a piece of paper in her hand. “Marc and Damián. This might be a good time for you to take a dinner break. Something smells really good out in the waiting room.”

Karla didn’t want or need a break right now. But she knew Adam needed to have time with Marc and Damián, too. She sat up, ignoring the protesting muscles that had been cramped for too long in the uncomfortable chair. Leaning over, she placed a kiss against his lips.

“I love you, Adam.”

“Love you, li’l subbie.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. Joni was the luckiest woman in the world to have been loved so well by this man.

“I won’t be gone long.” She squeezed his hand and left his room.

Karla met Marc and Damián at the entrance to the waiting room for the Tertiary Care Unit. “He’s been having a lot of dreams and nightmares. Incoherent. Fever hasn’t broken yet.”

Inside the waiting room, she was surprised to see what was left of an Italian feast spread out on the coffee table. The food probably smelled delicious, but it just churned her stomach at the moment.

After being introduced to Angie’s family who were about to leave, she homed in on Cassie, sitting alone with her sketch pad, lost in her special place. The crowd must have set her nerves on edge. She walked over to her sweet friend. “Cassie, what are you still doing here?”

Cassie looked up, blinking her sad brown eyes as she shifted her focus from the drawing she’d been intently working on back to the real world. Wisps of hair had come loose on her forehead and at her temples from her braided pigtails. She smiled, her lips always looking as though she’d painted them with a pale pink lipstick. But Cassie didn’t wear makeup. Ever. She tried to make herself as unattractive to men as possible, which was totally
im
possible, because she had a natural beauty that couldn’t be hidden or denied.

“I wanted to be here for you, Kitty. How is he?”

Karla sat down beside her. Cassie was the only one of her current friends who called her Kitty, a nickname she’d picked up in high school for reasons she couldn’t even remember. In college, she’d matured and the name seemed so childish.

“He’s still out of it. Talked in his sleep a little bit tonight, but he thought I…” She glanced away. “He gets confused. I think he’s having nightmares about things from the past, probably because of the fever and narcotics.”

And maybe a little bit because his guard has been relaxed for the first time in…well, forever
.

“How are you doing, Kitty?”

Why did that question always lead to tears, whether it was her Dad, Adam, or now Cassie asking? Her friend reached out and squeezed her hand. “I love him so much, Cassie, and he doesn’t even know I…”

“You’ll let him know, when he gets better. Show him.”

“He’s so stubborn, honorable, proud. And he still loves his wife so much. I don’t know if he can ever love anyone else again.” Her heart squeezed tight.

“Breathe, Kitty. Right now.”

Karla remembered Adam’s giving her similar instructions on the nights she’d found him at her bedside after particularly vivid nightmares about Ian.
Deep breaths. Now
. She smiled.

But her smile faded quickly. When he regained his strength, the steel wall would go back up and he would shut her out again.

“I don’t know how to break down the wall, Cassie.”

“If anyone can figure it out, you can, Kitty.”

Cassie laid her forehead against Karla’s and the two shared a quiet moment, then Karla lifted her head and looked down at the sketchpad. Cassie had drawn the image of an angel, a woman, holding a tiny baby.