“Is it safe for us to be out there?”
“It’ll be fine. Come on.”
Maria followed Franco as he made his way to the basement stairs that led to the yard.
Once outside, he took out a pack of cigarettes, holding the pack to Maria.
“I don’t smoke.”
Franco nodded, then lit his cigarette, taking a deep drag. They remained silent for a few minutes before he spoke.
“You’re unlike most of the women I know. I notice you seem at ease just being quiet and in your thoughts, even when you’re in the company of someone. I like that.”
“Oh, I can talk, especially when I’m having a debate with my father and brother.” Maria laughed softly.
“I’m sure you can.”
“I do think a lot. I guess you can say I’m a thinker.”
“So am I.”
“May I ask what you and that man were arguing about earlier? I’m sorry if I’m being nosy. It’s just that I couldn’t help sensing something is terribly wrong.”
Franco didn’t miss the nervous lilt in Maria’s voice. He looked at her somberly for a moment before throwing his cigarette on the ground and stubbing it out with his foot.
“The less you know about certain operations, the better.”
“You don’t trust me.” Maria stated it rather than asking.
“It’s not that. It’s for your safety.”
“As you told me before, none of what we do is safe—even my writing the articles or coming to FAF’s office.”
“And that is true, but this is much worse.”
Maria didn’t say anything. She paced around the perimeter of the yard. Anger was beginning to seep through her. Just when she had thought that Franco was different from most other men and saw her more as an equal, he’d now convinced her otherwise. Those were just words—words he’d hoped would gain him favor with her and perhaps make her like him more. For she had no doubt after the other night, and especially after dancing with him tonight, that he was attracted to her.
“Please don’t be mad, Maria.”
She looked at him, surprised. Once again, his perception amazed her. Then again, she was certain her face must be pinched with anger.
“I don’t want to be treated like a delicate woman. In fact, Franco, I’ve been giving more thought to what else I could do for FAF besides write for the newspaper and distribute it.” She waited before continuing, trying to gauge Franco’s reaction. But he remained silent as he watched her.
Swallowing hard, she said, “I was thinking I could deliver messages to the men out in the field. It would be easier for a woman to distract the soldiers.”
Franco’s complexion suddenly paled. His lips pressed together so tightly she could see the skin puckering around them. And his eyes. They were filled with intense anger. He took a step toward her. Maria took one back.
“Is that what you want? To distract the soldiers?”
Maria walked back toward him until her face was mere inches away from his. “I can see you are thinking the worst about me. It is true. I am a woman, and some say a pretty one. While I’d rather use my intellect, I might as well also use my assets as a woman if it means I can help the cause. In fact, I don’t need your permission. I will do as I please.”
Maria turned around to leave, but Franco gripped her arm tightly and spun her around so fast that she almost lost her balance. She was about to hurl an insult at him, but just as she was opening her mouth to do so, Franco’s lips came down on hers. He kissed her greedily, causing a soft moan to escape from Maria. Her anger from a second ago was quickly forgotten, as all she could think about was the feel of his lips pressed against hers. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her up against his chest.
The sound of cats fighting nearby caused them to stop. Maria pulled away, doing her best to catch her breath. Franco ran his hand through his hair, and then loosened his tie, unbuttoning the top of his shirt. Maria’s eyes darted to the exposed skin, and she felt her knees go weak. She then noticed Franco was looking at her chest. She glanced down and saw the silk rose had fallen to the ground and her dress had shifted a bit, causing more of her cleavage to show. Bending down, she picked up the silk rose and discreetly adjusted her dress, inserting the flower back where it had been.
“Do you like white roses?”
Franco spoke so softly she wasn’t sure she’d heard him. “Excuse me?”
He pointed to the silk rose in her dress. “Are white roses your favorite?”
Maria shrugged. “Not really. I love all flowers.”
“The white rose suited your complexion when you wore it in your hair and even the way you’re wearing it now, against your chest.” His gaze once more returned to her bosom.
She blushed.
“I’m sorry I was so forward. I guess you can say you got the better of me in more ways than one.” He softly smiled.
“Did you really think I would do something horrible with the soldiers?” Maria crossed her arms, staring at him defiantly.
“No, no. Of course not. I’m sorry for giving you that impression. Just the thought of you anywhere near those soldiers and of your flirting with them sent me into a fury. You have to understand, Maria, these aren’t naïve schoolboys whom you can flirt with and then go off on your way.”
“I know. I am not that disingenuous. I just meant that the soldiers tend to examine the men more.”
“But what about what you said about being an attractive woman who might as well use all of her assets?”
“I meant that a pretty woman could sneak messages or even ammunitions past a soldier more easily than a man could. I didn’t mean to imply I would grant them any favors.” She blushed as she said this. “But I apologize as well. From your viewpoint, I can see how that must’ve sounded to you.”
“It is all right. I don’t want you to take such risks. I can deal with your writing for the newspaper. But I can’t stand the thought of your doing anything more dangerous that could place you in harm’s way. I’m sure it must be obvious that I have feelings for you, Maria.”
“But it is my decision, Franco. You even said that yourself, and that day at the outdoor market, you were encouraging me to get involved. And you seemed so pleased that I did decide to help.”
“I confess. My intentions weren’t all honorable and for our cause. I wanted to see you again and get to know you better. I’m sorry, Maria. Perhaps I should’ve never asked you to write for the newspaper. And now you are saying you want to do more dangerous work. I can’t allow it. How would I ever live with myself if something happened to you?”
“As I said, Franco, it is my decision. If you try to forbid me from getting more involved, I’ll just do it on my own. In fact, I can volunteer at Gruppi di Azione Patriottica.”
“GAP? You cannot be serious. You are bluffing me.”
“Yes, GAP. I’m sure you’ve heard of them. And I am not bluffing.” Maria stared at him squarely in the eyes.
He looked away and took another cigarette out, quickly lighting it. He took a few drags and paced back and forth around the yard. Shaking his head, he sighed deeply. “I suppose I’d rather have you working with us. That way I can keep an eye on you at least and do my best to keep you safe.”
“You don’t need to do that, Franco. I can take care of myself.”
“I’m beginning to see that, and I don’t doubt it. But I would rest easier if you were here. Please, stay with us.” He walked slowly over to her and took her hand, drawing her to him. He kissed her again, but this time it was gentler. The smell of his cigarette drifted up to her, making her feel slightly dizzy.
She pulled back and said, “All right. But please don’t make assumptions like you did earlier or else I will be out the door. Remember that.” She lifted her index finger and waved it in his face, but she couldn’t resist smiling.
Franco took her finger and crossed his heart with it. “I promise.” He then brought her finger to his lips, planting a kiss.
> After he released her finger, Maria asked, “So what will my first mission be?”
“I guess we can start with your delivering messages to the men in the field and other supplies such as food, bandages. Let’s take it slow. There is a lot you still need to learn about how we operate. It is imperative not just for your safety, but for the safety of everyone involved.”
“Va bene.”
“Let’s head back inside. We shouldn’t be talking about these matters out in the open.” His eyes scanned the yard, and then he walked over to the driveway, ensuring no one was present.
Maria followed him back down the basement steps. She couldn’t help wondering if she was out of her mind, offering to take on more dangerous work. But what she had said about considering getting more involved was the truth. There was no backing out now, not after the way she had to convince Franco. Although if she did tell him she had a change of heart, she knew he would only be too pleased to not let her go through with becoming a courier.
The music had stopped, and the members were getting ready to leave. Maria was saddened for a moment that she wouldn’t get to have one more dance with Franco. She would definitely come to the dance next Saturday. She smiled as she remembered Franco’s kiss. Had he just given in to a restrained moment of lust and nothing more? Or was he beginning to have feelings for her? Maria could no longer deny that she was falling quickly for the most intriguing man she’d ever met. And for some reason that realization frightened her just as much as the dangerous work she would soon be undertaking.
CHAPTER 21
Dante
Florence, 1970
Dante was walking through the Piazza del Duomo in Florence. As always, whenever he came to the beautiful city, he marveled at all the architectural genius surrounding him. His favorite was the Duomo atop the stunning Cathedral. The famous Duomo could be seen throughout the city, and he never tired of taking a few moments to stare up at the incredible dome. Crossing his arms, he let his gaze then wander to the ornate details of the cathedral. He remembered the first time he came to Florence for art school and how much he had admired the pink, green, and white Tuscan marble tiles that formed the cathedral’s exterior. Anabella would no doubt be in awe if she were here with him. At the thought of her, Dante’s heart filled with an abysmal sadness—a sadness so great it could fill the interior of the massive Duomo.
While it felt good to be gone from Siena and have this weekend break from his work that he was allowing himself, the trip had done little to lift his spirits. Two weeks had passed since Anabella had taken him to meet her mother. What a fool he’d been! He kept mentally chiding himself for not heeding Anabella’s warnings about Signora Ferraro. To think he had actually thought he could sway the bitter woman into accepting him and giving her blessing for him to continue seeing her daughter. He supposed love was to blame for his lack of reasoning. The famous proverb about love being blind was so true. If he had just listened to Anabella and continued seeing her in secret, he wouldn’t be suffering now. But what good would have come out of that? Eventually, they would have been caught. And how could he go on indefinitely without making more of a commitment to Anabella?
He had stayed away from the rose farm for a week after Signora Ferraro forbade him to see Anabella. Finally, he could stand it no more. He’d woken up at the crack of dawn and had driven to Pienza. Like an intruder, he had staked the property from all angles until he was able to find a tall fence that separated the property from the back road. The fence was covered in ivy, which allowed him to remain hidden, but still be able to view the rose gardens.
For three consecutive mornings, he made the hour-long drive and waited at the fence for a glimpse of Anabella. It wasn’t until he made the drive on the second day that it dawned on him just how hard it had been for Anabella to make the long commute into Siena, sell her roses to the vendors, visit with Dante, and then make it back in time to Pienza at a reasonable hour that wouldn’t cause her mother to be suspicious. She did care for him—why else would she have gone to such painstaking trouble for him? He felt selfish for not having realized all this before and for pressuring her to take him home to her mother.
On the third morning, he had finally spotted Anabella. She was working in the field with a woman who looked to be a good ten years older than her. Although the woman was smiling and talking animatedly to Anabella, he could see she merely nodded her head occasionally and didn’t engage in much of the conversation. Dark circles as large as silver dollars were under her eyes, which looked as sad as Dante felt. Their time apart from each other was affecting her greatly as well. He wanted to climb over the tall fence, run to her side, and take her with him. Although the image was certainly romantic, he still had enough sense in him to know such an action would only get him arrested, and further ruin his chances of ever being with the woman he loved. So he had merely watched her, memorizing every nuance of how she looked, how she moved, the way the sun hit her face. And when he had returned home, he committed the memories to canvas.
He called the new painting Anabella Alone, depicting her on the rose farm, but with none of the workers surrounding her. She was on her knees working the soil, but instead of vibrant roses blooming from their stems, all of the roses were wilted. He had exaggerated the dark circles he’d seen under her eyes, and he had painted her hair so that it was pulled up into a disheveled bun, loose strands dangling haphazardly down her neck and partially obscuring her face. Her sad, worn expression came through vividly, and her face conveyed a deep sense of despair. The work was the darkest one he’d created. Still, he felt it captured Anabella more than the ones that showcased her beauty or her innocent, childlike personality. For now, he felt as if he truly understood her and knew her soul.
Seeing her working on the rose farm had given him a view into her innermost thoughts. As he watched her that day, he spoke to her silently in his head. He reminded her of the times they had spent together . . . of the day in the sunflower field when she had run free through the flowers . . . how they laughed while they hurried to sell her roses to the vendors so that they would have more time together . . . the first time he brought her to his apartment . . . and he reminded her of their intimate moments, their kisses and embraces. At one point, she had looked up from the roses she was tending to, and stared at the fence. He wanted to pull the ivy farther apart and let her see he was there. He wanted her to know he hadn’t given up on her. But for some reason, he hadn’t.
Part of him reasoned that he needed to let her go for her own good, and that was why he hadn’t revealed himself. But another part of him refused to believe that they were better off without each other. No. There was a reason God had introduced Anabella to him in his dreams and later in his waking life. It was not mere coincidence. They were meant to be part of each other’s destiny. After meeting Anabella, he hadn’t been the same again. And he knew he would never love another woman the way he loved her.
The bells coming from the famed Campanile shook him out of his thoughts. He watched the clanging bells in the tower. This was such a beautiful city. How he wished Anabella could see it. The sounds of the bells soothed him. A thought then came to him. It was risky, but what did he have to lose at this point? All he knew was that he couldn’t continue to wait and do nothing.
CHAPTER 22
Maria Rossi
Florence, 1943
As Maria left her house and walked her bicycle to the street, she noticed a slight chill to the air. It was September, and she could feel summer was beginning to give way to fall, even though the new season’s arrival wouldn’t be for another week. But the seasons were not all that was changing. A week ago, Italy had signed an armistice with the Allied forces. Initially, the announcement had led everyone to think the war was over. Italian soldiers immediately shed their uniforms and returned home in civilian clothes. But within two days of the armistice, the Germans attacked Rome, forcing the Eternal City to surrender. Before the armistice, German forces had already been present in centr
al and northern Italy, but now even more soldiers occupied the cities.
Mussolini had been deposed the last week in July. Franco and the other members of FAF had rejoiced, believing that the tide was truly turning in their favor. But the celebration was short-lived when six weeks later the armistice was signed and the German occupation soon followed. Spirits quickly plummeted as everyone realized that Italy still had a long way to go to achieve freedom. Once the shock that Florence was now under German rule had subsided, Franco and FAF wasted no time in shifting their focus to driving out the Nazis. Franco gave impassioned speeches, which reenergized the other members and gave them hope once again.
Maria and Franco had become romantically involved shortly after the first dance she’d attended at FAF’s headquarters. She’d never been so happy. Franco surprised her often with flowers and notes, many of which contained verses from Shakespeare’s love sonnets. And Maria had begun baking more at home so she could take some of her sweets to him. As they worked side by side, he became her mentor as well, guiding her as she wrote her articles for FAF’s newspaper and pamphlets. They brainstormed ideas for the pieces as well. Franco appreciated her intellect, and, in response, Maria wanted to impress him by giving him her best work. Gone was her earlier fear about writing the articles at the headquarters. For she longed to spend as much time as she could with Franco and, when she didn’t find him in his apartment, she always went to the office in search of him. Yes, it had been a whirlwind of a summer between the recent current events and her burgeoning romance with Franco.
As Maria pedaled her bike through the streets of Florence, she held on to the bike’s handlebars with her right hand, and with her free hand she threw newspaper bundles in front of the houses she passed. So far she had not spotted any German soldiers along her ride. With every newspaper she threw, she felt a rush of adrenaline, knowing she was helping in FAF’s efforts to rid her country of Nazi and Fascist rule. She felt a sense of fulfillment like she’d never known before.
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