Whispers of Winter: A Limited Edition Collection of Winter Romances

by Nicole Morgan

  After they finished, Kellen felt empty and alone. He had gone through the motions but hadn’t enjoyed himself. He truly felt like a complete dick. He heard Johnnie’s questions over and over in his head.

  He showered, dressed, and went out into the bedroom to find Julie gone. As he walked down the steps, he heard her in the living room.

  “Would you like a drink? I just made myself a vodka on the rocks.”

  “No, I need to go.” He opened the door, stopped, and without turning around said, “Thanks, Julie.”

  “No need to thank me, Kellen. We used each other. My husband left me a couple of weeks ago and I needed an ego boost. No hard feelings?”

  “Sure, no hard feelings. Take care of yourself.” He walked out her door, closing it softly behind him.

  When he climbed on his bike, he took his phone out of his pocket and checked for messages. Nothing. Damn it, Rhian, where are you?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Rhian called out to Kellen. When he turned, the sadness she saw in his eyes tore through her heart. “Come back to me, Kellen. Don’t go, please.” He turned and walked away. She ran after him, but the distance between them grew. She woke, her breathing ragged, her heart pounding. She looked at the clock. Four o’clock, great. She threw the covers back and slid out of bed.

  In the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face then brushed her teeth and combed her hair. She made some coffee since she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep after the dream. While it brewed, she checked her phone for messages. Nothing. Why does that surprise me? He doesn’t give a shit I left.

  The painting of Kellen stared at her from the living room. What secrets do you have? A single tear slid down her cheek.

  She decided after breakfast that she would start a new painting of her mother and grandmother. The day they waved goodbye and never returned. They had both looked so lovely as they headed to the market for fresh meat and produce for the café. Rhian’s decision to stay back and help her grandfather still haunted her. There were days when the guilt would rush to the surface.

  Her grandfather had always told her it hadn’t been her time. She was meant to stay with him, his one saving grace from the pain of losing his wife and daughter. But being alive sometimes saddened her as well. Grandfather. She picked up her phone and sent him another message to see how he was doing. Even though they had been texting back and forth, she needed to call him later in the day just to say she loved him. She knew she would have to explain why she left without going by to see him. Neither of them had mentioned it in their texts. Her father would be checking in soon also; he checked in every few weeks.

  She thought back to her outing last night with Dante. He had been so sweet to let her talk about Kellen and her father. He never judged, and she respected him for that. They promised to meet next week at his shop so she could see his work, and he had seemed very pleased.

  Pouring a cup of coffee, she grabbed her coat and walked outside to sit on the veranda. The sun rose slowly over the hills, casting shadows on the valley below. I could really get used to this. I have to call Denny today, too. He’ll be upset I haven’t returned his call. She had no idea what she would say to him or what he wanted. It surprised her Kellen had let him use his phone, so she knew to call while they would be working.

  She wondered for the hundredth time what Kellen was doing and tried to shove the thought away. She knew in her heart that she would never forget him; he would remain a part of her forever. Once he finished with the café, he would stay away and they wouldn’t run into each other very often. What a fool I am. Why do I find myself thinking of him every single day? How could someone I’ve known for such a short time mean so much?

  Later that afternoon, she braced herself and placed the call to her grandfather. He answered, his voice excited. “Rhian? Is it you, baby doll?”

  “Yes it is. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m doing much better. Why’d you leave without coming to say goodbye to me?”

  Rhian closed her eyes. “I’m really sorry. I left you the note because I didn’t want you to try to stop me or to tell Daddy. Is he really mad? What did you say to him?”

  “I haven’t told him yet. He’s still out of town on business. I just keep telling him everything is going great with the café and you’ve been very busy. So he thinks you are right where he left you. He won’t be happy with either of us when he comes back, you know. Has he called or texted you?”

  “No, I haven’t heard from him, so I guess he’s checking up on me through you. Thanks for covering for me, I had to do this. I’ve been saving my allowance and I kept the money from Mom to come here so I could figure some things out about myself.”

  “I know, baby doll. We can both be a bit overbearing with you, but we mean well. It’s hard since I lost your mother and grandmother. You and your father are all I have left now.”

  She could hear the hurt in his voice and it tore at her heart. “I know, but if I told you before I left, I would have lost my nerve. You know that, right? You don’t mean to, but you both make me feel like I have to do what you ask. I almost stopped painting and I needed to do it again.” A sob escaped her as tears slowly slid down her face.

  He sighed. “It’s okay. Please don’t cry, honey. You know I love you. If you need anything, let me know.”

  “Of course!”

  “Look honey, the nurse just came. I have to go so she can take my blood pressure. Can you call me again?”

  “The nurse? I thought you got out of the hospital?”

  “I did but the home health nurse comes every couple of days to check on me. Doctor’s orders. Now don’t you worry about me, just call soon. I’ll keep in touch with your dad. If he texts or calls you, just tell him things are going good with me and the café.”

  “I will, I promise. I love you.” Another tear slid down her face.

  “I love you too, baby doll. Goodbye.”

  When she was able to compose herself, she returned Denny’s call. I wonder who will answer? I need to get Denny a better phone. Just when she thought it would go to voicemail, she heard Denny’s voice.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, it’s Rhian.”

  “Ms. Rhian!” He laughed. “You called me back. I thought you didn’t get my message.”

  “I’m sorry. I was so busy. Is everything all right? How are things going with the café?’

  “Everything is going good, Rhian. Your grandpa called last night and said he’s startin’ to feel better. He can’t wait to see the cooking stuff you picked out.”

  “That’s wonderful, Denny.” She felt the tears fall again and wiped them away.

  “He’s a funny man, you know. He was cuttin’ up with me. He said he’s gonna hire you to put a painting in the cafe when you get back. Where you at Ms. Rhian? Why did you leave?”

  “I’m in Italy to do some painting.”

  “Italy? That’s far away, ain’t it?” His voice sounded muffled. “Italy, Mr. Kellen.” She heard him whisper loudly.

  She rolled her eyes. In her heart, she didn’t think he cared and braced herself for his answer.

  “What? I don’t know.” His voice was clear again. “Hey Ms. Rhian, Mr. Kellen wants to know what the hell you’re doing in Italy. What? Oh, I wasn’t supposed to ask you. Well, why did you say it to me? Don’t get mad at me, I ain’t the one that asked. Now he’s mad that I asked you, Ms. Rhian.”

  “Denny, tell Mr. Slade I am in Italy painting, just like I told you. Why does he care anyway?” she mumbled.

  “She’s in Italy painting and she wants to know why you care anyway,” Denny yelled.

  Rhian heard a loud rumbling and knew Kellen had started his Harley and taken off.

  “I don’t think he heard me, Ms. Rhian. He got mad and rode off on his Harley. I’ll tell him when he comes back. He’ll be back ‘cuz I’ve got his phone. When you comin’ home?”

  She sighed. “I don’t know. I guess when I figure some things out.” She hesitated
for a minute then threw caution to the wind. “How is Kellen doing?”

  “Okay but misses you and he’s mad you left without telling him anything. He went to your house the day you left, and you wouldn’t answer your phone.”

  “He did? Why is he mad?” Do I even want to know?

  “He went to your house to ask you not to leave, and I guess he’s mad because you didn’t call him. Gosh, do I have to figure everything out for both of you?”

  She smiled despite herself. “What do you mean?”

  “Ms. Rhian.” He sighed loud and long, like a tea kettle ready to whistle. “I think he likes you, but won’t let himself believe it. Sounds like you like him, but you ran away so you don’t have to face it. Am I the only one who sees it?”

  “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

  “Ms. Rhian, tsk, tsk. You never saw the way he looks at you? I know the way you look at him. I think you guys like each other and you’re too darn stubborn to say it.”

  “I think you are reading too much into this.”

  “Okay.” He sighed. “Anyway, he’s moping around like he lost something. I got to go, Ms. Rhian. When he comes back, he’ll want to hurry up and finish what we are doing. Can you call me later?” he asked. “Oh, this is his phone so you have to call while we’re working. I guess he will be back soon, I don’t think he will want me to keep his phone.”

  “Okay, I’ll call you in a few days. Tell Mr. Slade I said hello when he comes back, okay?”

  “I will, Ms. Rhian. I don’t know why you don’t tell him yourself. Just like I don’t know why he asked me to call you instead of calling you himself.”

  “He asked you to call me?”

  “Yeah, he wanted to know where you were. He was worried because you hadn’t called to check on the café. So I called for him, told him you would call me back. I was right wasn’t I, Ms. Rhian?”

  “Yes you were, Denny. I will always call you back. That’s a promise. Remember I am six hours ahead of you now, okay?”

  “Oh you are? That’s funny.”

  “Yes, so you can’t call me late because I will be in bed, and I can’t call you early because you will be in bed.”

  “Okay, I’ll try to remember. Oh, Ms. Rhian. Did you get any painting done yet?”

  “Yes, I did. I’m starting on my next one now.”

  “That’s great. How many paintings you gonna do before you can come back home?”

  “I don’t know. But I’ll call you when I know I’m coming home. How does that sound?”

  “It sounds great, Ms. Rhian. I’ll be sure to tell Mr. Kellen what you said. Bye now.”

  “Bye Denny. Take care of everyone for me until I come back.”

  “Sure, you can count on me, I promise. Bye.”

  She put her phone down and thought about what he had said. Could Kellen really have feelings for me? She didn’t want to think about it right now. She walked back to her bedroom and changed into her paint clothes. No time like the present. It seemed she would be painting the parts of her life that had caused her the most happiness and pain for now.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The following week, she called Dante to arrange a visit to his art studio. He gave her directions to a café in town and agreed to meet her the following afternoon at one.

  She found herself looking forward to the trip into town and wondered what this little café would be like. He had promised her a delightful lunch, but she was most excited about seeing his paintings. Would she be embarrassed about her own work once she saw them?

  The next morning, after a light breakfast, she headed into town. As she drove through the rolling hills of the countryside, Rhian knew she would never get enough of Italy. She easily found the café from Dante’s directions. He sat outside the café at a little table waiting for her; she waved at him. How perfectly Italian everything looked, like the old movies she used to watch with her mother and grandmother.

  He stood and kissed her on both cheeks. “Mia bella. How are you this lovely morning?”

  “I’m wonderful. I don’t think I will ever tire of the scenery around here. How are you, Dante?” He held out a chair for her.

  “Much better now that you’re here. They have many magnificent foods here. Would you like me to order for you?”

  Her mind flashed back to her first meal with Kellen and how angry she had become when he ordered her beer without asking. She was pleased Dante had not presumed to order for her. “Yes, that would be very nice.”

  “Wonderful, mia bella. Do you like seafood?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “I know what we shall have.” He beckoned to the waiter. “Buon pomeriggio. My lady and I will have your best red wine and fresh oysters to start. For the main course, we will have scampi served with a light bread and pasta. La ringrazio.” He turned back to Rhian. “Now, we shall see if I can please you today.”

  “I love the sound of Italian. I really wish I had learned to speak another language fluently. May I ask what you ordered?”

  “I think you will enjoy everything, let it be a surprise. The appetizer should be out soon. They fix the oysters in a very special way here. So, did you start on another painting yet?”

  “Yes, one of my mother and grandmother who died in a car accident when I was young. My last memory of them was when they both turned to wave goodbye to my grandfather and me as they walked away. They had the biggest smiles on their faces. Grandmother blew Grandfather a kiss and he caught it in his hand. That’s what I want to try to capture in the painting, the love between them.”

  “It is amazing to me that you can paint from memory and capture such emotion in your work, mia bella. He leaned toward her and captured her hand in his, giving it a little squeeze. “I must say I’m nervous about bringing you to see my work. I am afraid I don’t capture emotions like you do.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Alas, it is something an artist either possesses or does not.”

  “I’m sure your work is much better than mine! You specialize in portraits. This was my first.”

  “Well, you have created a painting that will put mine to shame. Ah, here comes our appetizer.”

  The waiter set the plate of oysters in the center of the table along with a tray of different crackers. “You like oysters, I hope.”

  “I do, but it’s been a while since I’ve had any. These look great. What is on them?” She leaned closer, taking in the scent, her brows drawn together.

  “Oh, the chef prepares these especially for me and will not divulge his secret. But I promise, you will love them.” He picked one off the plate, using a little fork to slide it onto a small cracker, leaned forward and let her take a bite.

  “Oh! This is amazing,” she replied, her eyes wide. “My gosh, I’ve never tasted anything so good.” She slid a couple onto her little dish and ate with abandon, her eyes closed to savor every bite.

  “I’m so glad you approve. They are my favorite. We must be sure you have them again soon.” He pushed some onto his plate as well.

  The waiter arrived with the main course and fresh, warm bread with whipped butter. Plates of shrimp scampi and a variety of pasta Rhian had never seen before soon followed. The waiter stood beside her with a grater in his hand. He leaned toward Rhain’s plate with the fresh Parmesan cheese. “Formaggio grattugiato fresco?”

  Rhian nodded and watched as the waiter grated a sprinkling of cheese over the dish. She held her hand up. “Grazie.”

  He smiled at her and turned to Dante. “Formaggio grattugiato fresco?”

  Dante nodded then turned to Rhian. “Go ahead and taste it. It is the house special.”

  Rhian placed a forkful of the pasta and shrimp in her mouth. Her eyes grew wide when the sauce hit her tongue. “Oh my gosh, I would be as wide as a house if I ate this every day. I don’t know how ya’ll stay so slim.”

  Dante laughed. “You really have a way with words, mia bella. I am so happy you agree with my choices today. I adore watching how much you
enjoy your food.”

  A blush spread over her face. “I’m sorry. I get so excited when I taste something new. It irritates my father.”

  “No, don’t be sorry. It makes me very happy. To tell the truth, it makes me taste the flavors all over again. Thank you for being someone who wears her emotions so close to the surface, Rhian. I really like that about you.”

  “I embarrass myself sometimes when I’m with my friends. They find it silly.”

  “Well, I think they must be the foolish ones to go through life not savoring each moment. You have made me realize that again.”

  Once they finished their meals, they walked the short distance to Dante’s art store. The size of his place surprised her. He had everything an artist could imagine and more. Canvases in every size and shape, types of brushes she had never seen before, pencils, chalks, and even frames. She tried to take everything in as they walked to the back of the store where he had his studio. Beautiful paintings of men and women from every age and walk of life covered the walls. Rhian strolled slowly, observing the details of each portrait. She felt as if she looked through a window at a personal moment in each person’s life.

  A painting of an old man in a dark red knit cap caught her eye; she studied it for a long time. She loved the wrinkles around his eyes and the sparkle in them, as if they held some wonderful secret. A slight smile turned up the corner of his lips. He wore a gray knit sweater and held an old burled pipe. His hand was weathered and strong, the hand of someone who had worked hard all his life.

  She turned to Dante. “This is beautiful. Does he live around here?”

  “He was my grandfather—the gentlest, kindest, most hardworking man you would ever meet. His family had money, but he chose to work a farm and raise a family. His father respected his wishes but always told him his inheritance would remain there for him. My grandfather chose not to touch it. He left it as a legacy to his family. I think because of him, my father instilled a work ethic in all of us. He died a few years ago, and I still miss him.”