The Rose Legacy (49 page)

Oh, Signore …
A sense of His mercy filled her.
Dio, you are faithful. Working all things together for good
. She thought of the journal, Quillan’s mother’s final despair. If only Rose could have known. But perhaps she did. Perhaps in her last moments, in Wolf’s arms, she found the peace she so desperately wanted. Surely God would have mercy on two such wounded souls?

And good had come of it. Quillan had come of it. He hadn’t perished in the fire because Rose’s selfless act had saved him. His mother had loved him more than her own life. And Carina loved him, too.

Sliding to her knees beside Mae’s bed, she folded her hands.
Grazie, Signore, for your grace which has saved me, for Quillan and Mae and Èmie. Make me worthy of their love and help me to love well in return
. She caught Mae’s hand up to her mouth and kissed her fingers.

The door opened, and Quillan entered. With the day’s growth of beard and his shirt soiled and open at the neck, he looked weary and grieved. He must ache for Cain. Could he see beyond the pain? Did he know that even in this God was working, pouring out His grace, His mercy?

“May I speak with you?” His voice was flat.

She stood up and followed him out the back door. The sun was high overhead and it shadowed his face beneath the hat, just as it had the first time she saw him.

He waited until she closed the door behind her, then spoke. “In a couple days D.C.’s leaving Crystal. You can go with him.”

She searched his face. “Go where?”

He removed his hat and shook back his hair. “Anywhere. Home. To Flavio.”

Her breath escaped in a rush. “Flavio?”

“We’ll make an end to this travesty. Then you’ll be free to—”

It hit her like a punch to the stomach. “But I don’t want …”

His face was so cold it froze her. “I should never have married you. What happened between us was a mistake.”

A mistake? Her love for him a mistake? His tenderness, his awakening her, a mistake? “Is our marriage not legal?”

He looked away. “It can be undone.”

He would divorce her? Carina burned with shame and horror. It hurt. More than Flavio’s betrayal it hurt, and she wanted to hurt back. But this time she knew. There was no peace in that. She swallowed her injured pride and the pain of rejection and humbled herself. “I don’t want it undone.”

There. She had groveled. But she loved him. Even now she loved him. Their eyes met and held, his hard and bleak, hers holding her heart. He must know, must see. “I am Mrs. Quillan Shepard. You gave me your name.”

His jaw tensed. “It wasn’t mine to give.”

“Then call me whatever you like. We made a covenant.”

He puzzled her sternly. He must see she meant it. He would not be rid of her so easily. So he was not happy with his bargain. She would make him happy. So he disdained the daughter of Angelo Pasquale DiGratia. She would be simply Carina. Like Rose accepting Wolf, she would accept his son.

“Carina …”

“Are you saying you don’t want me?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want.”

“You have no feelings for me?” She saw the crack in his façade. He did care, and her heart quickened.

He released a hard breath. “Have it your way.” He put the hat back on his head. “I’ll pay Mae to keep you.”

Could he be so stubborn? Well, so could she. Carina raised her chin. “Where will you be?”

He didn’t answer.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll wait.”

His face softened again. “Carina …”

“As long as it takes.”

He dropped his chin, fighting with himself, it seemed. Which part would win? The one who had held her, whose strength she trusted, or the one who hurt, who lashed out when someone came too close? Her stomach knotted into a hard ball inside her.

He lifted only his eyes. “You’re wasting your time.”

“I don’t think so.”

He looked up and frowned. “Do you always get what you want, Carina?”

She raised herself to the fullness of her stature. “When I know what I want.”

His eyes narrowed. She could see the fight in him. He would not give in easily.
Buono
. Neither would she.

He tucked his tongue between his side teeth and held her eyes, then shook his head and walked away. She knew his stride. He was determined, set on this course. As he called to Cain’s dog, her heart wavered. But he didn’t turn back, and there was nothing more she could do. Quillan must find his own way back to her.

It was out of her hands, but God was bigger than she, bigger than Quillan. He would have His way, in spite of them. For her part, she would wait.
Signore?
She looked up into the blue bowl of sky. The hurt of rejection stung, then eased with fresh hope. Even this would work together for good. She would wait. And she would have God’s grace to do it.

A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS

I have the strength for everything through him who empowers me.
Philippians 4:13,
NASB

I gratefully acknowledge my dependence on the Lord my Savior
and the Holy Spirit, through whom all things are possible.

Thanks to Sarah Long and Barb Lilland, my fine and committed editors
Thanks to Gerry Deakin for assistance
Doug Hirt and Mary Davis for feedback
and Jim and Jessie for endurance and extraordinary love