For Love

by Jeannette Winters

  “Melissa, sometimes the best thing you can do for a person is let them deal with things themselves.”

  Once again you’re talking about yourself. “I’m not suggesting we tie him to a chair and force anything on him. I’m saying we can show him it’s okay to be happy.”

  “And you want to do that how?”

  Melissa walked over and tucked an arm around his. Smiling up at him she said, “By example. Now look happy and follow my lead.”

  When she gave Chris a light tug, he didn’t move. “You think I’m not happy?”

  I think you’re great at pretending to be. “I mean happier. Like this.” She smiled big, and Chris rolled his eyes.

  “That would scare the shit out of me if I saw someone that . . . happy.”

  She was puzzled. “Why is that?”

  “Anyone that happy has an ulterior motive.”

  “Maybe I’m trying to make up for the lack of yours,” Melissa said, hoping he didn’t dispute it.

  “Good point, but your natural smile is already more than most people have. I’d go with that,” Chris instructed.

  “And you should try to look like you’re enjoying my company, even a little,” Melissa teased as they went back into the house.

  Melissa walked over to Sirveo’s door and knocked. He opened it, and she said, “I know you have worked a long day, but dinner wouldn’t be the same without you eating with us.” She nudged Chris gently. “Don’t you agree?”

  Chris got the hint and added, “Melissa also said you play the mandolin. I have a feeling you’ve been holding out on me.”

  Not bad. “Will you please join us?”

  Sirveo couldn’t say no to their pleading. Eventually he agreed, sat, and dined with them. As she expected, once he was out, Sirveo was fine. His mood had lightened quite a bit as he began talking about the farm. This wasn’t just a farm, it was a family tradition. Sirveo spoke about his youth and his experience milking his very first goat. And how his mother would sit and rock by the fireplace, doing needlepoint while his father played the mandolin.

  It took a lot of convincing on Chris’s part, but eventually Sirveo went into his room and retrieved his mandolin. Sirveo played, but he didn’t sing. Melissa tried to encourage him by singing herself. The only thing that accomplished was lightening the mood with some laughter and a comment that she sings like her brothers. She would’ve been insulted if she didn’t know it to be true.

  Their night revealed something new. This farm wasn’t only about Sirveo holding onto his wife. It was his family’s legacy. And from what she learned, his wife had reminded him of that. She probably would’ve filled this house with love and children to pass on the beautiful tradition. Sirveo was the last in the line, and when he was gone, the tradition would come to an end. A sad but unfortunate reality. We have to make sure he knows he’s not alone. He has us. His friends.

  Something like that would take time, more than the one week they had with him. She already knew, somehow, she needed to return to the farm. Hopefully Chris would be able to do the same. All Sirveo really needs is someone to tell his stories to.

  Once Sirveo said goodnight for the second time that night, he left them alone in the kitchen.

  “That was . . . enlightening,” Melissa said.

  “I’ve been coming here for years, yet this was the first time I heard most of those stories. What is it you put in your chicken stew?”

  Melissa chuckled. “That’s my little secret.” She yawned and hadn’t realized how late it was.

  Chris took the hint. “Guess we should call it a night. We still have the roof to do tomorrow.”

  Melissa grinned and tossed him a towel. “Yes we do, but right now, we have a sink full of dirty dishes. Wash or dry?”

  Chris opened his mouth as though he was going to decline but thought better of it. Standing beside her, he answered, “Dry. But if I break one—”

  “Then you have to replace it. There is no getting out of it. We’re in this together.” She hoped he understood she wasn’t just talking about the dishes. Sirveo wasn’t just important to Chris any longer. He was important to her as well.

  * * *

  Chris continued to check in with David. At first it was to see if Prince Kalen had determined who was going to be his guest for the dinner event. The answer had always been the same. Kalen was still dragging his feet. It was beginning to piss Chris off, but at least he wasn’t sitting on his ass babysitting anymore.

  Of course David’s line of questions made him believe he was still on the job. As far as Chris knew, the assignment was Prince Kalen and not Melissa. He was tempted to remind David of that but if he pushed it too far, David would find some lame excuse to bring his ass to the farm as well. So he’d let David believe what he wanted, that Chris was somehow keeping an eye on Melissa.

  It wasn’t the first time, but usually it wasn’t Melissa he was actually watching. It was whoever was staying with Melissa for their so-called safety, first Deanna, then Hydria, and finally Ellie. Seemed like all the Turchetta men ended up needing their women protected at some point. Not shocking with the line of work they were in. And when Chris was assigned the protection detail, he was only one of the team members. This feels more like spying than protection. She’s not in any danger from Sirveo. He laughed to himself. Hell, I’m the most dangerous thing around here.

  Several times Chris wanted to ask David what he thought would happen, but he knew David wasn’t going to share that information with him. So instead he fed David a daily report of how boring and quiet their time on the farm was.

  Chris couldn’t recall a second he’d spent with Melissa that he’d refer to as boring. Even when she wasn’t speaking, there was something that held his attention. Even the way she smells is captivating. It wasn’t like any perfume he’d smelled before. She smelled like a spice from the kitchen, yet he couldn’t put his finger on which one. There were a few occasions he found himself standing inches away so her scent filled his nostrils.

  The board he was carrying slid, and he cursed as it fell off the roof and landed with a thud on the ground below.

  “Do you want me to get it?” Melissa asked.

  It’s your fault I dropped it. “No. I don’t want you moving around anymore than you have to.” It was bad enough she insisted on being on the roof with him. That was dangerous work. He’d told her to stay on the ground, but his words went in one ear and out the other. If anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself. As he made his way to the ladder, he shot her a warning look. “Not one inch, do you hear me?”

  She nodded and rushed to retrieve the wood he had dropped. Once he was back on the roof, he was pleased to see she finally had listened. He quickly repaired the final hole and attached a fresh piece of sheet metal over it. He wasn’t positive it would solve all the leakage problems, but it definitely made them better. There had been a few spots where Chris had been leery of standing in fear of falling through. At least it was now reinforced.

  “Are we done?” Melissa asked.

  “Yes, but don’t move until I’m down to where you are.” If she slipped, he needed to be there to catch her. If he’d known about the roof ahead of time, he’d have purchased a harness for Melissa to wear. Not that Chris would’ve worn one.

  He made it to where Melissa was and she turned out to be on her knees. The toes of her sneakers gripped the sheet metal as she inched toward him. “How am I doing?” she asked, her ass up in the air.

  Chris wanted to turn away, but couldn’t. Not because it was an awesome sight, but he needed to be ready if something went wrong. “You’re doing fine. Just take it slow.”

  “Any slower and I won’t be down until tomorrow,” Melissa joked.

  “One wrong move and we’ll both be down in one quick drop. Now focus and ease down slowly.” Chris wished she hadn’t followed him up there. He could hear David cussing him out for his stupidity. But David must know how stubborn his sister was. Once she had her mind set on something, not
hing seemed to stop her.

  That’s what happened last night. She insisted Sirveo should relax and have fun. Somehow she manipulated the situation until he did. Chris almost felt bad for Sirveo. The poor guy had no idea what he was up against. This sweet gentle woman might be the most cunning of all the Turchettas. So far he’d only witnessed it, he hadn’t fallen prey to it. And I don’t plan to either.

  Once Melissa was at the edge of the roof, Chris put his hands on her hips to help guide her onto the ladder. He felt her tense up. “Are you okay?” Melissa didn’t say a word and he asked again. “Melissa, answer me.” Chris hated using such a demanding tone, but he needed to make sure she could do this.

  Her voice was shaky as she said, “I . . . I d-do-don’t know if . . . if I can.”

  Chris understood the hardest part was lifting a foot off the roof and trusting the ladder was there. But he had her. Nothing was going to happen. So he slid his hands down her legs and rested on her ankles. “Do you trust me, Melissa?” She nodded. “Then I’m going to lift one of your feet and put it on the ladder.” As he did, she slipped slightly, maybe a half an inch, and she pulled her foot from his hand.

  “I can’t do it, Chris. I don’t know what happened, but I can’t do it.”

  He could hear utter fear in her voice. There wasn’t going to be any talking her down. That left him with only one thing to do. Carry her down. Climbing back onto the roof, he kneeled right beside her. Then he said softly, “Melissa, can you climb onto my back and wrap your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist?”

  “Chris, you can’t carry us both down the ladder. We’ll fall.”

  “No, we won’t. Trust me and get on my back.” It was far from ideal; he’d never done it before. There was a first for everything. There were things to look at on the positive side. We’re not in combat being shot at. All I have to worry about is her holding on tight.

  Slowly Melissa moved one hand to his neck and then the other. Once her hands were gripped around his neck, practically chocking him, only then did she move her legs off the roof and around his as well.

  There was no need to tell her not to let go. He was pretty sure no one could pry her hands off at this point. As carefully as he could, Chris positioned himself in front of the ladder. He needed to get up so he could step onto the ladder like he wanted Melissa to do. But he needed to do it while leaning forward. With her added weight on his back he didn’t want the ladder to fall backward either. It wasn’t a major drop—two stories high. That was enough to do some serious damage.

  He heard her murmuring something in his ear. Chris forced himself to ignore it. It was going to take all his concentration to get onto the ladder and keep them both out of harm’s way. He had the first foot on then the second. The ladder shook and she pulled even closer to him if that was possible. She felt like a second skin. Each step became easier and finally he felt his foot make contact with the ground.

  Melissa didn’t let go and he informed her, “You’re okay. We’re on the ground.” She still held on tightly. “Melissa, you can open your eyes now. We’re safe.”

  He didn’t need to see her to know her eyes had been clamped shut. It’s what people did in fear. As though if they couldn’t see it, it couldn’t hurt them. Unfortunately it made you more at risk. Can’t fix what you can’t see.

  Chris could tell the moment her eyes opened as her hands loosened. Slowly she eased herself off his back and onto the ground. How was it he missed the feel of her so close? It wasn’t something sexual, or intimate. All it was . . . was a life-saving maneuver. Her life.

  When he turned around to face her, he noticed the tears streaking down her cheeks. He reached up and brushed them away. “You did it, Melissa. I’m proud of you.”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t do anything. Except make a fool of myself.”

  He tipped her face up to meet his gaze. “Do you know what the most important part of a team is?” She didn’t answer so he added, “It’s trusting each other in situations just like this. I have to say, Melissa, I’d have you on my team any day.”

  They were words which were supposed to make her feel better, but somehow, deep in his gut, he knew he meant them. By the small curl of her trembling lips, she knew it too.

  “Can we call it a day?” Melissa asked.

  “Definitely. And I hope Sirveo didn’t eat all the leftovers from last night. Don’t tell him I said this, but you’re a hell of a lot better cook than he is.”

  She laughed as they headed back to the house. Whether it was an accident or not, their hands brushed up against each other and their fingers entwined.

  It felt so damn sweet he couldn’t let go even if he wanted. When was the last time I held hands with a woman? Has it been years?

  Chris felt his phone vibrate, and he already knew it was David, but what could he say? David, your sister helped fix the roof today and did an awesome job. I’m a little in awe. When I carried her down, I didn’t want to let go . . . Chris thought David wouldn’t be terribly keen on any of that. There was a lot he was going to need to leave out of the report. As the French said, c’est la vie.

  It wasn’t as though he was switching teams, he had just added one into the mix. And although Melissa froze, she had actually shown him she was so much more than her brothers gave her credit for. Not that I’d like to see her actually joining the team. It’d make that roof look like a walk in the park.

  It was odd, but he found there was something inside of him that wanted to keep her safe too.

  Chapter Ten

  Melissa woke the next morning hoping to jump out of bed, raring to go. Instead she felt as though she’d been hit by a truck. The physical work hadn’t gotten to her, but a fear she never realized she had, had paralyzed her to the point it had been dangerous to be on the roof. Thinking of it made her heart pound, and she needed to remind herself it was over.

  That wasn’t easy. She rolled over again, hoping to get some more sleep. Melissa had heard Chris and Sirveo earlier, but neither had knocked on her door. After her not so little panic attack, Chris probably decided it was easier working with Sirveo. I can’t believe I let him down like that. She had told him she’d be there to help with all the repairs. When she said it, she meant it. That was before my weakness jumped out and slapped me in the face.

  There was no denying it. She didn’t have a fear of heights; ladders weren’t an issue. However, getting on and off one seemed to trigger something she never wanted to feel again. If she’d been there alone, she would still be on the roof clinging for dear life to whatever she could. She’d really thought there was no getting her to move another inch. Yet Chris spoke and looked at her in a way that made her blindly trust him. That didn’t mean her fear had magically vanished. At one point her fingernails dug into him as though her life was on the line.

  Melissa was so embarrassed. She was the one who had insisted she go up there with him. The only thing she accomplished was slowing down his process. Chris may have played it off as though it wasn’t anything, but to her it was. Growing up in a house of highly trained service men, she’d heard many times how they spoke about the weak link. Fear that controls you, owns you, and it can one day be what gets you killed.

  Granted, this was the furthest thing from a battlefield. But if she looked at that task, one that needed to be conquered, then Chris was victorious and she . . . failed.

  The fact that Chris hadn’t taken her with him today only supported that feeling. Great speech about teamwork yesterday. Right now I feel as though I’ve been benched.

  Lying there and doing nothing was only going to prove Chris had made the correct decision. She wasn’t about to get on a roof today, but there were things on the list she felt confident attacking on her own.

  Tossing the blanket off, Melissa quickly dressed for work and headed into the kitchen. As she had thought, she was alone in the house. The coffee pot was cold, which meant they had been gone for some time. She wasn’t about to go where she wasn’t w
anted. They easily could’ve wakened her, but they once again left her behind.

  Melissa contemplated staying inside and giving another room a once-over. But she didn’t want to fall into the trap of only doing “woman’s work.” On the way to the barn yesterday she had noticed a part of the fence not too far off that was in need of a simple repair. It was nowhere near the level of work Sirveo and Chris most likely were tackling, but it was better than nothing. I hope Chris sees it that way.

  Why did she care what Chris thought? In few days this adventure would be over and she would be back in Rhode Island doing what she was meant to do: helping those in need. Over time this would be nothing more than a faint memory. But that’s not what she wanted. Melissa didn’t want to forget . . . not the farm, not Sirveo, and definitely not Chris. She had come to Italy filled with thoughts about Mac Muller’s urgent quest to find his son and to offer her help and counsel. But somehow she’d switched her mind and heart out of work mode and into other things. Including a gorgeous member of Turchetta’s Promise. How could I not? She knew reality was nipping at her heels, so this moment of reprieve wouldn’t last long.

  Was it so wrong to want something more in her life? Living her brothers’ lifestyle wasn’t for her. Even if her life was on the line, she couldn’t bring herself to do physical harm to another. It was against all she’d dedicated her life to. But being here and working side by side with Chris—doing dishes, taking a walk under the stars—made her yearn for something more . . . long-lasting, more permanent.

  Chris was a lot of things but a serious family man might not be one of them. At least not from the way he spoke. He talked in terms of team not individual hopes or dreams. And when she came close to anything personal, like family or friends, Chris quickly changed the subject.

  Had she expected Chris to be different than any of the other guys who worked with her brothers? They were all damn good at their jobs, but as far as getting to know any of them, each were trained to remain . . . distant. It was the way she handled her job as well. She did what she needed to obtain the necessary results, but there was always an invisible line she’d never cross.