Captivating In Love

by Bella Andre

  “Oh, Gideon.” Moisture glistened in her eyes. “I swear I was just about to ask you the same thing.” She tugged him back onto the bed, both of them facing each other on their knees. “Even though it’s only been a week, the truth is that I’ve loved you from the moment Ari told me all the stories about her big, beautiful brother. Even before I met you, my heart was forever yours.”

  “If you’re asking,” he said in a voice overflowing with emotion, “I’d give anything to be your husband.”

  “And I want nothing more than to be your wife.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Matt and Ari had returned from their honeymoon a week ago, and today they were taking the boys to the beach for their last summer outing before school started. It was the right time for Gideon and Rosie to drive to Bakersfield to see Mrs. Sanchez, Karmen’s mother.

  Gideon parked at the bottom of the long, circular drive, then put his hand over Rosie’s. “Thank you for coming with me.”

  “Of course I’d come with you. Just like you came with me to see that man whose name I shall never say again.” Then she added, “Are you sure you’re okay with my coming inside?”

  Before Rosie, he would have believed he needed to face everything on his own. He’d made this trip once before, not long after he’d gotten out of the army. He’d come to give Karmen’s parents the photos he’d kept of her, to tell them what a brave and honorable daughter they had raised—and to confess to failing to keep their daughter safe. His gut had been clenched so tight, he’d thought he’d be sick.

  But with Rosie at his side, he was ready to face anything. He would always be better, stronger, happier, with the woman he loved beside him.

  “Together,” he said. “That’s how we do things.”

  Hand in hand, they walked up the drive, following the tree line as it curved, the brown paper parcel tucked under his arm. Ten years ago, he’d been overwhelmed by guilt, by regret. And he’d had no idea how the Sanchezes would receive him. Thankfully, they’d been like sponges soaking up every detail of their daughter’s army life. Not only about Karmen’s death, but also about her life and her friends, her bravery and her heroism. He’d had so much to tell them because Karmen had done so much, for her team, for her country. It had been his honor to help them celebrate her life and her memory. And through the letters he’d sent for several years afterward and the times he’d called her, he’d wanted to tell Mrs. Sanchez how much that day had helped him, but he’d never known how.

  Flowers in planters on the front stoop bloomed beneath the portico. He lifted the heavy brass knocker, heard it reverberate inside the house. Then Karmen’s mother opened the door.

  She was a beautiful woman in her mid-sixties, though she barely looked older than the last time he’d seen her. She was elegantly attired in a blue dress, a strand of pearls about her neck, and he knew he was looking at the woman Karmen would have become if she’d lived.

  Mrs. Sanchez held out her hands to him. “Gideon, it is so good to see you. I’m so glad you called. And you must be Rosie.” Her smile was warm. “It’s lovely to meet you. Please, come inside.”

  As soon as she shut the door behind them, he said, “Thank you again, ma’am, for helping Ariana find me.” Mrs. Sanchez had been instrumental in reconnecting them.

  “Please, call me Ernestina.” She drew him into the house. “And it was my pleasure to help in any way I could. She wrote me a letter, you know, thanking me and letting me know that you’d come home.”

  Ari hadn’t told him that. “I’m sorry. I should have come to see you again sooner.”

  “Please, Gideon, no apologies. I’m just glad you’re here now. You too, Rosie. Please, tell me about yourself.”

  “I’m Ari’s foster sister. I have a six-year-old son named Jorge. And,” Rosie added with a wide smile and a squeeze of his hand, “I’m head over heels for Gideon.”

  “Oh, I already knew that!” Ernestina’s eyes twinkled.

  “We’re engaged to be married,” he told Karmen’s mother, and Rosie held out the simple rose diamond solitaire he’d bought her after she’d accepted his proposal.

  “I’m so happy for you both,” Ernestina exclaimed. “Truly, this is wonderful news.”

  As they walked through Karmen’s home, he saw that it hadn’t changed. There were still large vases of cut flowers in the foyer, while potted plants, blooming with buds, hugged the corners.

  “I’ve set coffee out in the sunroom,” she said, leading them into the large lounge with windows all around. And more flowers, more green plants, more living things. A silver coffee service complete with tea sandwiches sat on the central coffee table.

  “Thank you.” Gideon looked at the spread before them. “But you didn’t have to go to this much trouble for us.”

  “It’s no trouble.” She poured the three of them coffee. “Please sit.”

  He set the wrapped painting on the couch beside him, needing to express his condolences. “I’m very sorry you lost your husband.”

  She smiled, fondly rather than sadly. “It was a difficult time. But he and I spent our time wisely, wringing every last drop out of every last moment we had together.”

  Together. Mrs. Sanchez obviously knew the importance of that word, just as he and Rosie had learned. “I’m glad you could do that. He seemed like such a good man.”

  “He was.” Her eyes glowed with the same warmth as they had the day Gideon told her everything he could about Karmen. “And hearing from you has brought back the happy memory of the day you brought us all those wonderful photos of Karmen. I look at them all the time, and they always bring me such joy.”

  It was obvious where Karmen’s generosity had come from. And her positive outlook.

  “I’m so sorry for your losses,” Rosie said softly. “Karmen sounds like she was an absolutely wonderful person.”

  Ernestina smiled again, though her eyes looked misty now. “She truly was. And something tells me she would say the same about you.”

  At last, Gideon picked up the parcel. “Karmen gave this to me a couple of days before the attack.” He untied the string and unwrapped the angel painting. Carefully, he removed it from the paper and laid it on the coffee table facing Ernestina.

  She put a hand over her mouth. “My dear mamá’s painting. It meant so much to her. She always adored Karmen.”

  A sharp pang of guilt needled between his ribs. “I should have told you I had it when I was here the last time. But I didn’t realize—”

  “Oh, no. Karmen gave it to you. That’s as it should be. The painting is meant to be passed on. And the giver is the only one who knows when and to whom it should go.” She smiled with love. “She told me in one of her letters that she’d found a very special person she planned to give it to. When you came here all those years ago, I suspected that person was you. She told you the painting has a unique magic, didn’t she?”

  “Yes. She said whoever has it will know the right time to pass it on.”

  Karmen’s mother gave him a knowing look. “And have you discovered that time?”

  “I believe I have.” He glanced down at the painting. “But there’s something you might not know about it. This is an original Miguel Fernando Correa painting. Rosie is the one who discovered it.”

  Her expression remained serene as she nodded and said, “I believe he also painted my great-great-great-something grandparents.”

  “Ernestina—” He paused. “This painting is worth a lot of money.”

  She gave him that serene smile again. “I would be surprised if it wasn’t.”

  “Did Karmen know that when she gave it to me?”

  “Its monetary value was never important. The painting goes where it must.”

  “But I’m sure you wouldn’t want to let it out of your family if it’s been with you for generations. Especially as it was Karmen’s at the end.”

  She was silent for a long moment. The only sound was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall. Finally, she
said, “If the lore is correct, which I believe it to be, it’s been out of the family many times. And somehow it comes back, like it did to my dear mamá.”

  He was afraid she still wasn’t getting the whole picture. “A friend of mine recently had it authenticated and valued. It’s worth at least fifty million dollars.”

  She put a hand to her pearls. “Oh my. Isn’t that amazing.”

  “If you feel it belongs in the family, I want to give it back to you.”

  “And if I don’t?” Ernestina held his gaze steadily.

  “Rosie and I would use the proceeds from an art auction to fund a nonprofit foundation to help foster children, veterans, and their families.”

  “And we would like to do it in Karmen’s name,” Rosie added.

  Karmen’s mother was radiant in a shaft of sunlight. “She always told me you were a man with a big heart, that there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do for your team. I’m not surprised that you’ve found in Rosie a woman with a heart just as big.”

  As she smiled at them both, the last of his angst, the last of his guilt seemed cleansed away.

  “It’s what Karmen would have wanted you to do,” Ernestina said with a decisive nod. “The painting truly is magic. It has passed through many hands and saved many lives.”

  But it hadn’t saved Karmen’s.

  She wagged her finger at him. “I know what you’re thinking. But we are not to know its mysterious ways. All Karmen must have known was that it was time for her to pass it on and that you were the person to give it to. Somehow, she was able to see that you would use it for good and not for profit.” Ernestina’s smile was full of the richness of love for her daughter. “Both Karmen and the painting chose well.”

  “Thank you,” he said, his heart full. Karmen’s mother believed in him. Karmen had believed in him. And, most of all, Rosie believed in him.

  “And let me tell you another secret. No matter who buys it, the painting will still find its way to the person to whom it is supposed to go. You can be sure of that.”

  “I am sure,” he said. He now completely believed in the magic.

  “Would it be helpful if I were to tell your auctioneer its history?” Ernestina asked. “At least what I know of it.”

  “More than helpful.” Evan’s contact at the auction house had said anything they could find out would surely increase the sale price.

  Happiness was a warm glow on her face. “It will bring back wonderful memories of my family. We get so busy with our daily routines. But it’s good to look back. And while I’m looking through all the old papers it will be as if my mamá and Karmen and her father are with me.”

  While Gideon had lived in misery with his memories, Ernestina lived for those memories. It was a unique, and wonderful, way of looking at life. One he would strive to remember during any rough moments the future might hold.

  * * *

  “She was lovely,” Rosie said an hour later as he pulled onto the highway. “But I’m still amazed she gave her wholehearted blessing to your selling the painting once she heard how much it was worth.”

  “After losing her daughter and her husband, I think she simply wants Karmen’s legacy to live on.”

  Rosie knew he was right. Though there were some bad people out there, in her life she’d been lucky enough to find so many good ones. Gideon had too. “Well, she was certainly excited, telling you everything she could remember about the painting.”

  “Evan’s auctioneer will be ecstatic,” he agreed, “especially if she can find documentation in her papers.”

  Gideon had come a long way from the man in the shadows whom she’d first gotten to know. But she still needed to remind him, “He’s your auctioneer, Gideon. It’s you doing this. It’s you giving away a multimillion-dollar painting and not keeping a penny for yourself. Not Ernestina or Evan.”

  “I don’t need the money. I know it seems like I arrived with nothing, but I’ve made some good financial choices since leaving the military.” She could see that he was gearing up to ask her a question. “I know you’re fine on your own and don’t need help from anyone, but—” He raised their entwined fingers to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand. “I’d like to get Jorge some art lessons. What do you think?”

  “I’ve been saving up.” She’d always tried to do right by her son.

  “I know. But will you let me pay for it so he can start lessons now?”

  “Yes,” she said a moment later. She’d been independent for so long, taken care of Jorge on her own, along with the help of her best friends. But now she and Gideon were a team, along with Jorge. Together, they could do anything. “Of course. He would love that. I would love that.”

  He glanced at a road sign ahead. “There’s someone else I’d like you to meet. A friend over in San Luis Obispo. Zach is an old army buddy I haven’t seen in a long time.” He pointed. “If it’s okay with you, we could take this turnoff to go see him.”

  Her heart swelled at the strength it took to let every single one of his walls fall. Rosie knew what a huge step this was for Gideon. First seeing Mrs. Sanchez and now Zach, both of whom were inexorably tied to his time in the army. Over the past week, Gideon had slowly revealed the rest of his history to her—the Middle East, coming home, how broken he was after he got back stateside. At the time, Gideon had insisted on going to see the families of all the guys on his team who had died. Meeting those families had been horrific for him, especially when one of his team members’ wives blamed Gideon for getting her children’s father killed.

  “It’s more than okay,” she said. “Besides, I’m sure the boys are having a ball with Ari and Matt, so there’s no need to rush home.”

  As Gideon took the exit, his mouth creased in a smile. He smiled so much more now. For so long he’d felt the need to deny the laughter, to deny any joy. She would never let that happen again.

  Seeing both Zach and Mrs. Sanchez was a turning point. It meant he was healing.

  And Rosie would be there for him every step of the way. She always would be, just the way he would be there for her.

  Forever.

  “I love you,” she said.

  He turned, a brief glance away from the road, and looked at her, his eyes a gorgeous sky blue. “I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.”

  But she did know. She felt his love in every breath. Just as she knew he felt hers.

  Epilogue

  Today was the final barbecue and pool party of the summer at Matt and Ari’s house. The boys had started first grade last Monday, and standing under the big awning over the back deck, they were regaling Susan, Bob, Daniel, Tasha, and Lyssa with every detail of their first week at school. The two puppies, Noah’s Flash and Tasha’s Darla, already exhausted from all the activity, were napping. The rest of the Mavericks would show up soon, along with Jeremy’s Duke, and the puppy whirlwind would start all over again.

  Gideon and Rosie were sitting together on deck chairs, soaking up the sun, their fingers laced together as they watched Noah and Jorge go through every single school day event with pantomimes and hand gestures.

  The kids were amazing. Gideon still could hardly believe they were his. DNA didn’t matter. Only love.

  Love that filled him up from the pit of his stomach to the tips of his fingers and toes and straight back to his heart.

  Unwilling to let go of Rosie, with his free hand Gideon reached into his pocket and awkwardly removed a slip of paper from his wallet, which he handed over to her to unfold.

  “What’s this?” She was staring at it as if she’d forgotten how to read. “Tickets to the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art?” Absolute shock hushed her voice.

  “It’s for Columbus Day weekend,” he explained. “The Monday will be a holiday. Since Jorge has a teacher day on Friday, he’ll be out of school four straight days. With the warehouses right on schedule, Daniel’s got no problem with my taking a couple of days away.” He smiled at her. “Do you think you could get that Friday and
Monday off as well?”

  But she was just staring at him. Then he realized her eyes were blurred with tears. “You remembered we wanted to go there. Especially now, to see the Battle of Angels.”

  “I remember everything you’ve told me,” he said softly. “And I signed us up for painting lessons at the Met too.”

  She stared at him, unblinking. “Like us meaning me and Jorge?”

  “Like us meaning all three of us.”

  She let out a deep breath, her eyes shining. “Oh, Gideon.”

  “I pulled out the painting. The one from that day at the Legion of Honor.” He’d seen where she’d stored the tube in which she’d rolled it up.

  She bit her lip. “And?”

  “It wasn’t exactly easy to look at. And it’s probably not going to be easy for me to paint again.” He touched her hand. “But I’m ready to look at some of my stuff. And painting seems like a pretty damn good way to do that. Especially if you’re right there beside me.” He’d looked at the painting on his own, and somehow it hadn’t been as traumatic as he’d feared because Rosie had already seen it. Because it hadn’t horrified her. “I’m glad you didn’t let me tear it up.”

  “I love you so much,” she whispered.

  “As much as I love you.” He kissed her fingers. “And I was thinking that next summer, when Jorge’s out of school, we’d go to Paris and see the Louvre.”

  She threw herself at him, hugged him tight.

  “Get a room,” Ari teased with a smile as she carried over two huge pitchers of margaritas. Matt followed with lemonade, plastic glasses, and a plate heaped with sandwiches. Charlie’s robot fountain would be filled with the margaritas and lemonade.

  “Gideon is taking Jorge and me to the Met.” Rosie’s voice was full of awe and wonder. As if she didn’t know he’d happily take her and Jorge wherever they wanted to go. Even the moon.

  Ari didn’t need to ask what the Met was. She knew Rosie well enough. But she nudged Matt. “I bet Noah would love to go too.”