by Fiona Lowe
Rosa nodded in agreement. ‘Maria sends her love and her bread. She’s been in the kitchen since dawn, making you her special zuppa to make you strong again for the—’
Stefano’s hand closed over Rosa’s and she paused for half a beat before commenting on the flowers and greeting Chiara, who’d just arrived.
The baby. Leo had told them about the baby. The baby that may or may not still be alive after possible oxygen deprivation.
She let their conversation float around her, dutifully answered questions when asked and accepted Anna’s tea and toast. Leo’s family surrounded her with love and chatter but the one person she desperately needed to talk to wasn’t here.
I love you. Perhaps it had been anoxia-induced imaginings after all.
She stared at her toes that peeked out of a bright white plaster cast. The staff had been checking her circulation all night and her foot was toasty warm. She didn’t really have much pain from her leg but, then again, perhaps pain was relative after yesterday’s experience.
‘Dio mio.’ Leo strode into the room in green theatre scrubs, clutching a chart in his broad strong hand. The quintessential surgeon in charge. ‘What are you all doing here? Abbie needs rest.’ His arm swept out towards the door. ‘I don’t know how you all got past Erin, but you have to go. Now.’
Stefano winked at Abbie and walked towards the door. Rosa stiffened and stalked towards the exit, giving her son a look that would reduce a lesser man to a gibbering mess and Chiara and Anna grumbled, telling Leo to never try using that tone at home, but they left anyway.
Silence crept into the room. A heavy, brooding silence that billowed into every corner, filled with a myriad of unresolved issues. Abbie bit her lip.
Leo finally spoke, throwing his hands up into the air. ‘My family.’
‘They mean well.’
He stood at the end of the bed, frowning and staring at her—a doctor attending to his patient. ‘How are you?’
I don’t know. She hated how they’d gone from such an easy camaraderie to this strained and torturous silence.
‘Are you in pain?’ He strode to the IV pump and checked the analgesia setting. ‘I can boot it up.’
‘No.’ Her hand shot out and caught his arm. She needed to protect her baby and she needed a clear head to deal with Mr Costa, the surgeon. ‘Leo, is the baby going to be OK?’
He stilled at her touch and it was like a knife slicing through her heart. She dropped her hand, certain that her near-death experience had tricked her mind into hearing words he hadn’t spoken.
Leo ran his hand through his hair and it stood up in black spikes. ‘I spoke with Alistair Macklin and he said, “Wait and see.” You’re fine so we have to assume that the baby got enough oxygen too.’
Panic fluttered through her. ‘I was anoxic, though. I saw the white light; I heard things I don’t think were said.’ She gripped the edge of the top sheet. ‘We’re doctors; we both know about the chemical changes in the brain just before death and I had that moment of euphoria which means I was oxygen starved.’
He kept staring at her, his eyes boring into hers, filled with swirling emotions that her fuzzy brain failed to decipher.
He dropped his gaze and wrung his hands. ‘I heard Dom.’
‘You heard your brother?’ Confusion tugged at her. Why would he have heard voices? ‘But you weren’t drowning.’
He flinched. ‘When I was in the river, I heard Dom’s voice—as clear as if he was standing next to me—telling me you had a chance. It was like he was guiding me to you. I know it sounds crazy but I know it really happened.’ He let out a long breath. ‘So you can tell me because it can’t be more out-there than that. What did you hear?’
What I wanted to hear.
‘Abbie?’ He sat down next to her, worry carved deeply around his eyes. ‘Tell me.’
She swallowed and shook her head, not wanting to see the same expression on his face she’d seen two days ago when he’d told her he didn’t love her. ‘It’s not something you’re going to want to hear.’
With a jerky movement, he picked up her hand. ‘Abbie, you’ve always given it to me straight. It’s part of what I love about you, so don’t go all wussie on me now. Tell me.’
Her heart picked up as blood hammered loudly in her ears. ‘You love me?’
He dropped his head forward, his broad shoulders shuddering before he lifted his gaze back to hers, his face drawn and haggard. ‘I think I’ve loved you from the moment you told me in no uncertain terms it was up to Nonna to decide who her doctor was. It just took me until yesterday to realise.’
She wanted to throw herself into his love but she needed more. ‘I had to almost drown before you knew you loved me?’
‘No.’ He clutched her hand with a desperate touch. ‘I realised before that. I was on my way to tell you that you’re my heart and soul when the bridge washed out. And I do love you, Abbie; you have to believe me. When I held you in my arms yesterday, so close to death, everything I’d valued about my life was reduced to worthless rubble.’
I love you. Don’t ever leave me. Come back to me.
Joy exploded inside her, ricocheting through her and lighting up all the darkness. ‘You called me back.’ Her hand stroked his cheek. ‘I’d given up, it was all too hard and then I heard your voice, telling me you loved me.’
‘And I do.’ His deep voice quivered with emotion. ‘I love you with every part of me.’
He truly loved her. Her heart opened wide and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Very carefully, he lay down next to her, gathering her close and burying his face in her hair. ‘I’m so sorry I’ve been the biggest jerk on the planet. You were right. I’d been keeping everyone at arm’s length for so long and it took your love to show me how wrong I’d been. I need you, Abbie.’
She held him tightly. ‘I need you too.’
‘With you, I’ve made peace with my past and now you and our baby are my future. Will you marry me?’
She stared at him, loving that he would offer her that, but not needing it. ‘I know how you feel about marriage, Leo, and I told you, I don’t need to get married. Your love is commitment enough.’
He shook his head, his expression as serious as she’d ever seen. ‘No, it isn’t. I want to stand up in front of my family and pledge my love for you. For our child. I want it on the public record that I will do everything and give my all to you, the love of my life. You deserve this and anything less isn’t enough.’
His love surrounded her and she knew down to her soul she’d finally chosen a man who put her ahead of himself. A man who would stay with her, no matter what, but the need to test that lingered. ‘So you’ll love me even when I disagree with you?’
He kissed her hard. ‘Especially when you disagree with me. I’ll even try my best not to yell.’
She smiled at him. ‘You’re Italian; it’s a given.’ Resting her head on his shoulder, she gloried in the way his arms sheltered her. ‘And you’ll love me even though I’ll never be able to wear clothes with your style and flair?’
He grinned. ‘I’m Italian; it’s a given.’
She laughed, embracing the sheer wonder of being loved unconditionally. ‘In that case, I accept.’
His answering kiss was all she needed.
EPILOGUE
THE launch of La Bella’s Petit Verdot was in full swing. The press had declared it a ‘sweet, spicy and appealing red with immense cellaring capabilities’, which was sweet news indeed. It meant the wine could become a collector’s item as it was one of only a handful of red wines produced two years ago due to the crop losses of the floods.
Family and friends gathered in the shady courtyard of the restaurant, gorging themselves on the bountiful amounts of food, all made from local produce. Abbie snuck more than one slice of her favourite quattro formaggi wood-fired pizza, justifying to herself that the calcium in cheese was important for healthy bones.
She wandered over to the courtyard gate a
nd stepped into the garden. Murphy immediately trotted up to her followed by a bouncing and enthusiastic puppy that ran circles around him. Murphy gave her a look as if to say, “Do I really have to put up with this?”
Laughing, she patted both dogs. ‘Hey, Alec, you got a border collie. Good choice.’
The teenager grinned. ‘They’re the best dogs, Abbie. Murph taught me that.’
She’d kept in contact with the boy and Murphy had stayed with him occasionally when Alec needed him or when Murphy had needed to escape the city. ‘How’s mum?’
‘I’m great.’ Penny scooped up the puppy and cuddled it.
Her face glowed with health and an air of contentment circled her. Unless someone took a close look and saw the faint scar of a tracheostomy, no one would know that she’d faced down death and won. She hooked a lead onto the puppy’s bright red collar. ‘Alec, if you want the top pick of Chiara’s mingle-berry jam you better come now because a tour bus just pulled in.’
With a wave they walked back inside. What had started out as a kitchen-table enterprise using the Cellar Door as an outlet had grown into a thriving business for Chiara that saw her products in delicatessens far away from Bandarra.
‘Abbie.’ A deep voice made her turn.
Stefano kissed her on both cheeks and handed her a glass of wine.
She tilted her glass toward him before she took a sip. ‘It’s a great party and a sensational wine.’
Her father-in-law smiled in his quiet way. ‘My love for Dom and all my family is always there in my wine, but this one, I dedicate to you.’
‘Really?’ A bone-deep thrill rushed through her. ‘I don’t know what to say except, thank you.’ The Costas had enveloped her into their family without a moment’s hesitation and for that she loved them dearly. After years of not having family, she now had one in abundance.
‘No, I’m thanking you. You brought Leo back to us.’
She shook her head. ‘I think he was ready.’
Stefano put his hand on her shoulder, his expression serious. ‘Never underestimate the power of love, Abbie.’
‘Papà, are you philosophising again?’
They both turned and dark twinkling eyes winked at Abbie. Eyes filled with love and commitment. Eyes that made her knees go weak every time she saw them.
‘Nonno.’ A dark-eyed, curly-headed toddler leaned off Leo’s shoulders, his arms outstretched toward his grandfather.
Leo reached up and lifted the child free. ‘Papà, your grandson wants you.’
Stefano put out his arms to receive the child. ‘Dante, let’s go and look at the vines.’
‘Grapes.’ Dante extended a pudgy finger toward the vineyard.
‘Smart boy.’ His grandfather grinned as he strode toward his beloved vines.
Abbie waved to her son as he happily went with his beloved grandfather. Motherhood had exceeded all her dreams and she often had to pinch herself that this really was her life. Leo’s arms circled her waist and he dropped his face into her hair. Love surrounded her and she leaned back into him, never tiring of his touch or the shelter of his arms. ‘Where have you been hiding?’
‘I took Dante and Nonna to the water-hole.’
She turned in his arms and smiled. For the last two years, Leo had accompanied his Nonna on her visits to the waterhole and whenever they visited Bandarra, which was about six times a year, he rode his bike out there. ‘I’m glad. Dante loves it out there.’
Leo grinned. ‘Well, he started life out there so perhaps he has a strong connection to the place like we do but for a different reason.’ He wound a finger around one of her curls. ‘The twins are busy earning money for a trip to Italy.’
Anna’s daughters, at fourteen, were growing into beautiful and determined young women. ‘Lauren was telling me all about an exchange program she wants to do next year.’
He nodded, trailing his finger down her cheek. ‘The problem is they’re underage so they can’t work at the cellar door so they’ve started a babysitting club.’
His touch sent a tingle skating through her, a sensation that their time together had only heightened. ‘That sounds like a good idea.’
‘I thought so. In fact, they suggested they mind Dante for an hour so we can enjoy ourselves.’
His finger barely touched her chin but every part of her hummed with anticipation. ‘Enjoy ourselves at the party?’
His smile carved a dimple into his cheek and his eyes danced with wicked intent. ‘They didn’t specify where we enjoy ourselves. I was thinking more along the lines of the cottage.’
She rose up on her toes and put her arms around his neck, loving that his desire for her was as potent as the day they’d met. ‘I love the way you think.’
‘I love you.’
And of that she had no doubt.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6071-3
HER BROODING ITALIAN SURGEON
First North American Publication 2010.
Copyright © 2010 by Fiona Lowe.
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