Angels Everywhere

by Debbie Macomber

  “I’ve never met her.”

  “You won’t,” Father Grady said sadly. “She died before Roberto had saved enough money.”

  Brynn felt Roberto’s frustration. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Roberto blamed himself.”

  “But how could he?” She hated the thought of his taking on blame when he’d already sacrificed so much.

  “He seemed to think that he’d failed her.”

  “Surely he understands that isn’t the case.”

  “Intellectually I believe he does, but not emotionally, although I have hope now that he’s taken such a keen interest in you.” Father looked well pleased with himself, as though he were the one responsible for bringing her and Roberto together. “You’ve been good for that young man, but by the same token Roberto has been good for you.”

  “I like him so much,” she whispered. Sometimes it frightened her how deeply she cared for Roberto. He wasn’t like any other man she’d dated. He was deep and intense, intelligent and generous.

  “I suspected you did.”

  “Not at first,” she countered. “Roberto and I rubbed each other the wrong way in the beginning.” Even now they were at different poles on the subject of education. No matter how hard she tried to persuade him, Roberto refused to listen to reason.

  Then it dawned on her why Roberto was so opinionated. Father Grady had unraveled the mystery. Roberto had stayed in school and worked, saving his money in order to bring his mother from Mexico. She’d died before he had been able to save enough. If Roberto had been working full-time instead of trying to balance two part-time jobs with his schooling, he might have been able to help his mother. Because he’d stayed in high school the help he had to offer her had come too late.

  Twelve

  Emilio followed Roberto around the apartment like a lost puppy, offering him unwanted advice for his dinner date with Brynn.

  “First you’ve got to tell Miss Cassidy how beautiful she looks,” Emilio instructed, “then gently take her in your arms and kiss her, but only lightly. Remember that, because it’s important. You don’t want to start something too soon. Women don’t like a guy coming on heavy first thing. They want to be wined and dined first.”

  “Emilio,” Roberto warned under his breath as he tightened the knot in his tie in front of the bedroom mirror, “I can handle this on my own.”

  “But I know Miss Cassidy better than you do. Don’t forget I see her practically every day.”

  But his brother didn’t view her as Roberto did. To Emilio she was his teacher, the first one he’d liked well enough to mention. To Roberto Brynn was a warm, desirable, generous woman. When they kissed the electricity between them was as powerful as Hoover Dam.

  In the beginning he’d attempted to ignore the way the air sizzled every time they were together. A touch of antagonism had proved to be his best defense, and it had worked until Father Grady had manipulated them into chaperoning the dance at the church hall. Before he knew what had happened to him, Brynn was in his arms and life hadn’t been the same since.

  “Where are you taking her to dinner?” Emilio asked, following him across the bedroom.

  Roberto splashed on a touch of spice-scented cologne. “I haven’t decided yet.” Actually he had, but he didn’t want his brother dropping by unexpectedly with some phony excuse.

  Emilio frowned with disapproval. “That’s not going to work, bro, you’ve got to plan these things well in advance. You should have made reservations for a classy woman like Miss Cassidy.”

  If the truth be known, Emilio’s attitude toward Brynn amused him. The way Emilio talked about her, one would think his brother was half in love with her himself.

  “You can’t just walk into any restaurant and expect a decent table to be waiting for you.”

  Roberto reached for his wool jacket. He hoped Brynn didn’t recognize it as the same one from the dance. He owned only one suit, and he wasn’t about to go out and purchase another just because of a silly dinner date.

  “How do you know all this?” Roberto probed.

  “I been around,” Emilio answered with a hint of defiance.

  That might be true, but Roberto didn’t think Emilio had ever taken a girl out on a fancy dinner date.

  “You got her flowers, didn’t you?”

  Roberto hadn’t thought of that. “No.”

  “Oh, man,” he said, shaking his head, “you’re going to blow this.”

  “I’ll pick some up on the way.”

  Emilio’s face relaxed. “Good idea.”

  Roberto headed for the door, then stopped for his overcoat and gloves. The leather gloves were new and necessary to hide the car grease he couldn’t remove from around his nails.

  Once more Emilio followed him. “I know the perfect restaurant,” he said excitedly, and snapped his fingers. “It’s perfect. Call Mama Celeste’s and make a reservation. The food’s great and they think you walk on water ever since you repaired their van.”

  “Good idea.” Unfortunately that was exactly where Roberto had already planned to take Brynn. He turned and met his brother, eye to eye. He couldn’t remember when Emilio had grown so tall. Nearly ten years separated them, and Roberto had become accustomed to being the older, wiser, bigger brother. He wasn’t taller by much, and that surprised him.

  “I’ve already made arrangements to take Brynn to Mama Celeste’s,” he admitted. “And I don’t want you making any excuses to stop by there this evening. Do I make myself clear?”

  One corner of Emilio’s mouth lifted with a cocky half smile. “What’s it worth to you?”

  Roberto eyes narrowed into a dark scowl, and Emilio laughed. “Hey, I was just kidding, bro.”

  Roberto opened the front door. “Don’t wait up for me.”

  “Are you kidding, man? This is one night I’m going to want to hear about.”

  Brynn had been less nervous for her first high school prom. She checked her appearance a dozen or more times before the doorbell rang. Her inclination was to rush across the room and throw open the door, but she forced herself to remain calm and collected.

  Roberto stood on the other side of the door, so handsome her breath locked in her lungs. It reminded her of the night of the church dance. He’d knocked her senses for a loop then, too.

  Looking away, she stepped aside to allow him into her apartment. “Hello, Roberto.”

  He inclined his head slightly. “You look lovely.” Smiling, he stepped into her apartment and tenderly pressed his lips to her cheek.

  Surprised and delighted, Brynn raised her hand to her face, her fingers investigating the spot where he’d kissed her.

  Next he presented her with a small bouquet of flowers.

  “Roberto, how sweet. Thank you.” She led the way into the kitchen, where she placed the bouquet of pink carnations and miniature purple irises in a tall crystal vase.

  “I didn’t think to buy any wine,” she said, regretting now that she hadn’t thought of that beforehand.

  “We’ll have wine later,” he said.

  “I’ll only be a minute,” she said, and gestured self-consciously toward the bedroom. “I need to get my coat.”

  The ride to the restaurant, an Italian one from the looks of it, took several minutes. Roberto, the perfect gentleman, helped her out of the car and then escorted her inside.

  The moment she walked through the door, Brynn was greeted with the scents of basil and simmering tomato. Garlic permeated the air, and she inhaled deeply, the smell alone enough to make her hungry. No one needed to tell her how good the food would be.

  Roberto apparently knew the owners, and standing with his arm tucked around her waist, he introduced her.

  “Brynn Cassidy, meet Stefano and Celeste Seti.”

  She shook hands with the white-haired gentleman who was smiling broadly. His wife, Mama Celeste herself, planted her hands on her face and mumbled something in Italian to her husband. Brynn couldn’t understand a word. Whatever it was appeared to
please the grandmotherly woman. With a wide smile she kissed Roberto on both cheeks and promised them, in heavily accented English, the best dinner of their lives.

  Soon they were seated at a table. Before Brynn had a chance to smooth the linen napkin on her lap, she was served red wine, thick slices of bread, and a large block of cheese.

  The food never seemed to stop coming. Brynn sampled one fabulous dish after another. There must have been three or four different appetizers—shrimp, eggplant, tiny meatballs—before a huge Caesar salad arrived. When Brynn was convinced she couldn’t eat another bite, the pasta was brought to their table by Stefano, who insisted she would break Celeste’s heart if she didn’t take a large portion of the specialty of the house. From the envious looks being sent her way, Brynn had the feeling if she couldn’t finish the clam spaghetti, any number of volunteers would gladly step in for her.

  “More wine, more wine,” Stefano insisted, replenishing their glasses when she’d finished the best pasta she’d ever tasted. Brynn wasn’t given a chance to refuse the wine. Stefano filled her glass and carried away their empty plates.

  “I’ve never had such good food in my life,” she murmured, and scooted back her chair. She planted her hands on her stomach. “But if I don’t stop eating now, I won’t be able to walk.”

  “No dessert?” Roberto teased.

  They finished with a cup of dark coffee. Stefano and Celeste visited their table before they left, and this time it was Brynn who was hugged and kissed. Mama’s eyes watered, and she dabbed at their corners with the hem of her apron.

  Once they were outside, Roberto headed for the car.

  “Would you mind very much if we walked awhile?” Brynn asked. Physical movement would help ease the stuffed feeling. Besides, she didn’t want the evening to end so soon.

  “By all means, let’s walk,” Roberto agreed. He reached for her hand and set a slow, easy pace. The night was crisp and cold.

  “It looks like it might snow.”

  Roberto glanced skyward. “Wishful thinking on your part,” he murmured. “There’s barely a cloud in the sky.”

  He was right. The image of them walking together, hand in hand through lightly falling snow, appealed to her.

  Although she’d enjoyed their dinner, her one regret was that with all the food being served, and Stefano checking to be sure everything was to their liking, there hadn’t been much of a chance for the two of them to talk.

  “Thank you, Roberto, for a wonderful meal.”

  He released her hand and slipped his arm around her waist. “Thank you for coming with me.”

  Brynn pressed her head against his shoulder. “What made you decide to ask me out?” She wasn’t sure what prompted the question, but she was curious.

  “I wanted everything to be right for you.”

  “Be right?”

  He exhaled slowly as though he weren’t sure how to explain himself. “You aren’t like other women I’ve known.”

  Brynn smiled to herself. “Is that a compliment?”

  Roberto was taken aback by her question. “I meant it to be. Have I insulted you?”

  “No,” she assured him.

  “You’re special, Brynn. Not only to me, but to Emilio and his friends, too. They think a lot of you. I’ve heard the teens talk about you, and when they do, well, it’s with respect. It takes a lot to impress kids these days.”

  “And how do you feel about me?” she asked. It would be far easier for her if Roberto came right out and told her. She’d never been so bold with a man, but this wasn’t a normal relationship.

  “Me?” He hesitated, taking some time to formulate his thoughts. “You’re stubborn and strong-willed.”

  Brynn wouldn’t deny it. “If you think I’m stubborn, you should meet my mother.” She bit down on her lip when she realized what she’d said. Reminding him of the mother he’d lost was the last thing she wanted.

  “So you inherited the trait.” He sounded amused, and Brynn was relieved.

  “I care for you, Roberto,” she told him softly. “More than I care for anyone other than my family.” If he wasn’t willing to acknowledge his feelings for her, then she’d be the first one to say it. “Knowing you has blessed my life. When I have a problem, you’re the person I want to share it with. When something good happens, you’re the one I want to tell. I find myself thinking about you a lot, probably more than I should.”

  His arm tightened around her middle. “I feel the same way about you. I want very much to kiss you, Brynn,” he said with a deep sigh that revealed his longing for her, “but I don’t want to do it in public. Not again. I’ll wait until we get back to your apartment.”

  Brynn’s heart swelled with emotion as she looked to him. “We could leave now, don’t you think?”

  Roberto chuckled, and together they raced across the street and back to Mama Celeste’s, where Roberto’s car was parked.

  As they neared Brynn’s apartment their amusement ebbed, replaced with a growing anticipation. Brynn’s hand shook slightly as she unlocked the front door, knowing that soon she would be in Roberto’s arms.

  Together they walked into her apartment. Brynn didn’t bother to turn on the lights. Once the door was closed, she lifted her arms and reached for Roberto.

  With a deep-seated groan, he backed her against the door and kissed her.

  The kiss was like fire, a spontaneous combustion of desire and need. Once wasn’t near enough to satisfy either of them, and Roberto kissed her again and again. He surprised her with his tongue, and she gasped as he thrust it deep inside her mouth, stroking and teasing her. Gradually her gasp became a whimper that trembled from her lips.

  When she was sure they were both about to faint with the intensity of their lovemaking, Roberto pulled away. She noted that his chest was heaving; hers was, too. In the dim light he looked down on her, and she met his look recklessly, unafraid for him to see all the love and longing in her eyes. Her fingers clung to the lapels of his suit as she studied him.

  She waited, needing to know he’d experienced the same wonder she had. He closed his eyes momentarily, his breath deep and harsh, as though he needed to separate himself from her, if not physically, then emotionally.

  Brynn might have been offended if he hadn’t continued to hold her close and with such tender care. She pressed her head to his chest and listened to the strong, fast-paced beat of his heart.

  “I don’t dare touch you again,” he whispered thickly.

  “Why not?”

  “You make me lose my head.”

  “That’s bad?” she asked.

  She felt his smile against her cheek. “Not exactly. It would be very easy to take you into that bedroom and make love to you, but I won’t.”

  “You won’t?” She couldn’t believe she was asking him this.

  “I can’t allow that to happen. Once would never be enough with you. I would want you again and again, and that would only lead to—”

  A loud knock sounded against the door, startling them both. Roberto’s eyes met hers in the faded light. “You’re expecting someone?”

  She shook her head.

  “Who is it?” she asked, struggling to make her voice strong enough to be heard.

  Roberto turned on the light switch.

  “Emilio,” Roberto’s brother shouted from the other side.

  Roberto stiffened with irritation and opened the front door.

  “It’s Modesto,” Emilio cried as he stumbled into the apartment. His eyes were wide with panic and fear. The teenager slumped onto the sofa and covered his face with both hands. “Modesto’s been shot.”

  Jammed inside Jenny and Michelle’s dinky apartment for the potluck Christmas party, everyone seemed to be talking at once. Trey felt as out of place as a bull moose at one of those fancy dog shows, the ones with dolled-up poodles with painted toenails.

  Jenny’s acting friends were certainly a mixed breed. There were everyday people, the kind he would have been hard-pressed
to guess were show people, and then there were the others. The others, he noted, tended to be flamboyant attention seekers.

  It made for an interesting evening, he would admit that much. Holding his drink, he found a quiet corner and played the role of casual observer.

  A couple of times Jenny drifted his way, but she wasn’t able to stay for long. Trey understood. Since she shared hostessing duties with her roommate, she couldn’t very well give him all her attention. Though to be honest, that was what Trey would have preferred.

  He sipped the wine, a fruity-flavored one he wouldn’t normally drink, but was all the market had offered. He found himself watching Jenny, mesmerized by her. She was as beautiful as he remembered, more so. Yet he couldn’t look at her without his gut twisting up in a knot. This had been his lot when she was growing up. Loving her from afar.

  Next to burying his parents, the most difficult thing Trey had ever done was to let Jenny Lancaster leave Custer, Montana, without telling her how much he loved her. He hadn’t felt particularly self-sacrificing and noble at the time. He didn’t feel that way now. It was just that he had some decisions to make, damned important ones, and they involved Jenny.

  He loved her, and although he’d tried to forget her in the last three years, he couldn’t. Countless times he’d attempted to convince himself to look for greener pastures.

  It hadn’t worked.

  He’d spent the better part of ten years in love with Jenny, and it didn’t appear that time or distance was going to change the way he felt.

  She’d been little more than fifteen when he’d first recognized her as a woman. Until then she’d been a pesky kid. Living next door, so to speak, Trey had dealt mostly with Dillon, Jenny’s father.

  He remembered the day he’d realized she was a woman. He’d driven over to talk to her father about one thing or another and gone into the barn. Jenny had been there, grooming her filly and practicing her lines for a school play, when he’d stumbled upon her by accident. Without missing a beat, she’d continued with a flawless delivery. She’d ended her soliloquy by dramatically throwing herself into his arms, then leaning back and planting the back of her hand against her forehead. Less than a second passed before she’d recovered from her death, leaped upright, and asked him what he’d thought of her performance.