Runaway Love (8 page)

Chapter Twelve

The turmoil in Genie's mind defeated sleep.

In her mind, questions about Lorenzo quickly built from, “Did he know?” to, “He knew.” 

Her internal arguments steadily closed in and stifled her in their grip.

Can't breathe.

She turned her head to look at the open pages of the magazine lying on the bed beside her.  “He knew.  How clever he was,” she said.  “That look.  That smile.  Sucked me in, that's what.  All lies.”

Genie' grasped offending magazine, screwed it up in both hands and threw into the corner of the room.  “I'm never going to find a man who wants me just for me,” she said, glowering at the crumpled magazine.  “Not here, that's for sure.”

Must get away.

Wetness began to settle in her eyes. “I wanted to believe you, Lorenzo Calderone,” she said, brushing at her eyes with the back of her hand.  “He'd...he'd been...” A rivulet ran down her cheek.  “And now, I'm cooped up with him behind a wall of snow.”  She frowned.  “Unless...”

Did he lie about that too?  Did he tell her that so she would stay and he could..?   “You should have gone to see for yourself.”

So, go and see.

Even if Lorenzo had told her the truth, hadn't she seen the snow melting recently?  What was good for Lorenzo's place must be good for the pass.  It stands to reason.

“I can get away.”

She jerked to her feet. “I'm going to risk it.

You've runaway once.

You can do it again.    

She nodded resolutely.  “Definitely.” 

Her tone didn't quite sound definite. 

Lingering uncertainty clawed at her resolve.  I'll be okay,” she said, trying to boost her confidence. “All I have to do is get my stuff from the police, and--” 

Thoughts of Lorenzo interrupted. 

He'd done that.  He'd got her stuff returned.  Was that just being kind, or...  

“Probably, or.” She shook her head to knock the doubts aside.  “Stick to Plan A.  The car should be ready by now - and then - I’m home and dry.”

That thought of home spurred her into action.

Gathering her few belongings, she stuffed them into her backpack.  Her previous experience of battling through snow taught her a strong lesson.  “Lots of clothes,” she said.  “Lots of clothes.”  

She piled on layer after layer - mostly clothes belonging to Lorenzo's mysteriously absent wife.  Genie felt a fleeting glimmer of guilt.  After all, it was like stealing.  But she needed protection from the cold.  They'd understand that - Lorenzo and Anna.  She'd freeze out there otherwise.  “I'll send them back when I get home.”

When she'd struggled into the final layer, she couldn't lay her arms against her sides. “I look like I've got boils under my arms.” 

Scooping up her backpack, she drove her arm through one strap.  Then, a practiced swing brought the second strap Into contact with her other arm.  A quick hunch, and the pack settled comfortably on her back.  

“Ready to go.”

She inched open the bedroom door, and listened for Lorenzo.  Never quite sure when he slept, or when he woke up, extreme caution was the order of the day.   After all, he always looked as though he'd been up hours before she rose to face the day.  Nothing strange about that.  In her former life, everybody in her hemisphere of the world was up before she rose to face the day.

No sound. 

No light. 

No movement. 

“Looks like I beat him to it this morning,” she whispered.  “That's one for the history books.”  

Now all she had to do was get past the guardian at her door. 

Carefully, and slowly, she stepped over Domino's bulky body lying across her bedroom doorway.  Before her foot touched the ground, he raised his head and examined her sleepily.

“Nice Domino,” she whispered, straddling his body.  “Shh.  Don't wake up Daddy.”

He grunted and snuffled.

“Stay now.”  She brought her remaining foot over to join the other.  “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Now she was lying to a dog? 

This brought communicating with animals to a new level.

A new depth, more like it.  

Domino rolled his head back to keep her in view as she started down the stairs.

“Stay, Dom,” she whispered urgently and began her slow, silent descent.

Within seconds, she heard the clip, clip of Domino's nails - and his snuffles - tracking her. 

She turned.  “Go back,” she whispered.  “Beddy-byes - you're talking to a dog again.”  She shook her head in despair.  “Go back to sleep you stupid dog.”  She tried in vain to push him back up the stairs.  “Wait...what's the Italian for sleep?”  “Um...” She pointed to her bedroom door. “Va a dormire, Domino.”

He snuffled wetly, wheezed in disgust as he made an ungainly turn, and ambled up the stairs.  He flopped down in front of her door with a dull thud.

Genie smiled at him.  “Good...buon uomo...uh...ragazzo...whatever.   Buon anyhow.”

To make sure he didn't try to follow her, Genie backed down the stairs.  Domino watched her intently all the way until she stepped down below the line of sight.  Finally, she managed to reach the front door without her customary canine chaperone.

Genie gripped the door handle.  It felt cold to the touch.  She imagined the outside of the door covered in a thick layer of ice.  “Am I crazy, or what?”! 

She spent a few uncertain moments contemplating the stupidity of leaving a warm house for the bitter cold, snowy Alpine night.  Memories of happy times with Lorenzo also filtered through.  She felt a lump form in her throat and the wetness in her eyes threatened to brim over.  It was not so easy running away this time.  After all, Lorenzo hadn't actually done anything to her.  Just lied, that's all.  

Perhaps he didn't want a romantic entanglement anyway.  Perhaps he didn't care who she was.

“Oh, yeah.  Sure.” 

Anyhow, there was his wife.  After all this time, Genie still didn't know anything about her.  And Lorenzo didn't seem predisposed to reveal all.  She shrugged.  “Let him keep his secrets,” she said.  “I don't care anymore.” 

She snuffed sardonically.  “Lying to yourself now, Hamilton. You're getting a lot of practice tonight - that's if the porker you dropped on Domino just now counts.”

Enough.

Make up your mind.  A warm lie or the cold truth?

She sighed loud enough to wake the household.  “Too late now.  Have to love you and leave you.”  She swallowed hard but failed to dislodge the rock in her throat.  “'Bye, Lorenzo the magnificent.”

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and slipped into the wall of cold.

“That's it,” she whispered, gently easing the door closed behind her. “The die is well and truly cast now.”  She paused for a few seconds.  Some doubts still hovered around in the background but, otherwise, the 'die' was in pretty good shape.  “Got to get some travelling done before Lorenzo wakes up.”

She padded across the yard and stopped at the barn. 

This is where it began.  There had been so much promise - and now, so many happy memories in such a short time.  “I'll hang on to those happy memories,” she said, her words transforming into visible clouds of condensation billowing from her mouth.  “I won't let his clever hard-to-get tactics last night darken them.”

“Concentrate,” she said.  “Let's see about this pass.”  She uttered a small prayer that sunshine over the last few days was on her side, stepped through the gate, and into the woods. 

She more certain now.  “It was the right thing,” she whispered.  She giggled, marginally on the hysterical side. “Why am I still whispering?”

The clear sky with a quarter moon, bounced reflections off the stark white snowy landscape producing an eerie ambient glow.  It also clearly marked out her path to the pass between the snow-covered trees.  Her spirits rose.  She was going to make it.

As she progressed, the snow gradually deepened causing her to lift her legs ever higher.  Her ungainly goose-step both slowed her down and quickly sapped her energy. 

“If it's thick here, what about the pass?” she said.  Her little guardian devil began to chant “Go back.  Go back. You're not going to make it.”

“Stop it.  Go away.  Of course I am.” She took a deep breath to get her lungs under control.  However, her legs were soon going to be a problem.  They were already tiring.  She decided to try something different and began pushing her feet through the loose snow close to the surface instead.  It helped a little.

“What I really need is a pair of snowshoes.”

She stopped, primarily to catch her breath, but also to consider the possibility of returning to Lorenzo's place and borrowing snowshoes.  “Too dangerous.”  For all she knew, Lorenzo could be up milking Gloria and Beatrice by now. 

She was about to resume her enervating journey when the echoes of an eerie howl bounced off the surrounding mountains. “What on earth..?”  Her hackles sprung to life causing a shiver to ripple through her body that had nothing to do with the cold.

  She peered into the deep shadows among the trees, scanning up the mountains each side.  

Nothing moved.  

Again, the howl pierced her ears.  “That's a wolf.”

Genie shivered.  It was the first time she'd heard a real one.  The wolf howls she'd heard in the movies were not half as scary as this.

There it was again. 

She concentrated on the howl to try to get some idea of how far away it was - and how many there were.  The echoes distorted both distance and number.  Was one wolf howling or a herd. 

Herd?  

Not a herd, you idiot.  What is it?  Pack.  That's it.  Pack.  Pack.  A pack of wolves.

“Who cares what they're called.  They're here.”

Perhaps if she were quiet, they wouldn't hear her.

She squinted and stared at the deep shadows among the trees.  They seemed to form and reform shapes.  She hallucinated their red eyes glowing in the dark, sizing her up.  

Evil red glows.

“You've seen too many movies, Hamilton.”  She looked up at the sky.  “It'll soon be light,” she said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.  Maybe wolves don't hunt by day. 

Do they?  

Why hadn't she paid more attention to nature films on television?   Did they sleep during
the daytime?

Another frightening howl.

It was closer this time.  She was sure it was.  

Genie's heart racked up a frightening pace, driving her lungs to pump fast and shallow.  “I'm going to end up as dog meat,” she whispered.

Chapter Thirteen

Lorenzo stopped to listen to the faint wolf howls.  Satisfied that they weren't close enough to be of concern, he continued to make his way down the stairs as quietly as possible to avoid disturbing Genie.

As he entered the kitchen, he smiled, remembering the previous evening's meal.  Yes, Genie did know her way around a kitchen.  He'd seen her culinary skills in action often enough.  Every time they prepared a meal together, she demonstrated her ability to throw a good meal together.

And, 'throw' was the appropriate word.   Her only shortcoming was that she had no patience.  Even when working together on a complex dish, she rushed everything and barely disguised her impatience as he savoured each stage.

“It's almost like you're worshipping the food,” Genie told him.

“Put some love in the preparation,” he said, “and you'll love eating it.”

“Is that an Italian saying?”

“What else?”

“You just made that up,” she said, in mock disapproval.

But, last evening's meal was a solo effort and, speed notwithstanding, it was excellent.  She really did have talent. 

“I must get her to do that more often.”

The remembered images of Genie's prowess abruptly morphed into Genie in the lounge, falling into his hands.  It was a memory that filled his mind all night.  She felt as if she belonged there - right there in his arms.  The feeling was warm and exciting and, at that moment, he'd wanted it to be true.

He was sure she wanted it, too.  He saw it in her face.  He felt it in his hands.  She made no attempt to release herself from his grip.

How ready he'd been to give in to his feelings and her open invitation, and yet, he knew he could not - should not.  To have done so would have invited serious hurt for both of them.  After she leaves, she would look back and see him as someone who simply took advantage of their situation. 

As for him, he would be left with another hole in his heart.  

First Anna, then Genie.

Anna.

Anna and Genie.

He rolled the thought around his mind - then screwed his eyes shut against the guilt burning through his body.  How could he even think like that?  It was a betrayal.  It was like...like...he had a wife and a mistress.  And yet, he had neither.

Besides, hadn't he promised Genie that he wouldn't take advantage right back in the beginning.  In the barn.  That promise was made to himself too.  True, fate - or whatever other twist of nature - had thrown them together.  But that same fate had fixed it so there was no escape.  There was no choice.

What if they both had a choice?  Would she still be here?  And if she were, would she still be as willing?

No.  The timing and their situation was wrong.

When there's a choice...Then we'll see.

Suddenly, he was eager to see her.  He wondered how she'd be when she woke up.  Perhaps Domino would sense her mood and give him an early warning.

“Where is Domino?”

He frowned, realizing he hadn't seen his canine friend in his new post - outside Genie's door.

He whispered a call from the foot of the staircase, in case he'd been too preoccupied to notice.  When his four-legged companion failed to appear, he tried the lounge.

Before Genie came on the scene, the fireplace in the lounge had been Domino's favourite early-morning spot.  The ashes still gave off some warmth and that suited him fine.  He' was always pleased to see Lorenzo.  His tail said so.  However, he was remarkably unwilling to haul himself up from his warm spot to give Lorenzo a proper greeting. 

This morning, he and all forms of greetings were conspicuous by their absence.

“Domino,” Lorenzo called. 

No response.

“Surely he's not outside.” 

He found his canine companion in the entrance hall, prone, staring at the front door. 

“Che successo?”  Bending down to pat Domino's ample chest, Lorenzo peered at the door as though it would give him some clue as to what was on the other side.  “Heard the wolves, did you?  They're too far away, ragazzo.  There's no danger.”

Domino snuffled and maintained his vigil.

“You don't trust me, do you?” he said, reaching the latch and easing open the door. “Move back, boy,”

Domino obeyed only when the door was about to hit him on the nose.   He grunted and snuffled, rose to his feet, and slowly backtracked.  

Lorenzo opened the door only sufficiently wide to enable him to peer through and scan the yard and the fence.  Domino joined him, pushing his nose through and trying to widen the crack by rocking his head from side to side.

“See?  Nothing.” The muted clucking of the chickens in the barn underlined the truth of his observation.

He forced Domino back and closed the door.  “C'mon, let's get breakfast.”

Domino resumed his position in front of the door.

“Please yourself,” Lorenzo said and headed for the kitchen, thoughts of a piping hot espresso warming up his mind.