The Texan's Bride (15 page)

Jessie would be home by Christmas and then they’d decorate the tree like they’d planned. He sat in a stupor, waiting, Mirry at his feet. She followed him everywhere these days. He fed her, took care of her just like Jessie would want. He also tended to her other animals. He thought of letting the fawn go, but Jessie might want to see her one more time.

Rosa and Felix watched him from a distance and he knew they thought he was losing his mind. Maybe he was.

The day he received the divorce papers he lost it. Kid brought them out and Cadde tore the document along with the transfer of one share into shreds and burned the pieces in the fireplace. He kicked the furniture and threw a vase. Kid tackled him as if they were
playing football and Felix rushed in. They tried to hold him down.

“Mr. Cadde, please,” Felix begged.

Cadde relaxed, took a deep breath and sat up. “Sorry,” he muttered, and staggered to his feet.

Kid looped an arm across his shoulder. “Let’s go paint the baby’s room and put all the stuff up so Jessie doesn’t have to see it.”

“I don’t have any paint.”

“I brought it.”

“What?”

“Yeah. The lady at the store said it was a popular color and whatever the hell it is, we’re putting it on the wall.”

“Kid…”

Before Cadde knew it, he was painting. The sweeping strokes of the roller eased some of the tension in him. The pale gold color was nice. They put the crib and the baby things in the attic and moved the bedroom set back in. The room didn’t even look like it had been planned for a baby.

Kid left and Cadde returned to the living room, staring at the tree. He couldn’t think about the divorce papers. All he knew was that he wasn’t signing anything. Jessie would be home by Christmas.

He clung to that one thought.

J
ESSIE WOKE UP IN A STERILE-
looking room. She lay on a metal-framed single bed. A stiff white sheet and a brown blanket covered her. There was a small dresser and a nightstand with a pitcher of water and a glass.
The walls were a gray stone, as was the floor. Sunshine poured in from a slim window.

Where was she?

A woman poked her head around the door. “Ah, you’re awake.”

“Where am I?”

“In an orphanage outside Rome.”

“Oh.” It all came flooding back and she gasped for breath as the pain hit her.

“Rest. Rest.” The woman pulled the blanket up to Jessie’s chin. “You’ve been very ill.”

“Have I?”

“High temperature, so we called the doctor and he examined you.” The woman stroked Jessie’s hair. “You’re Angela’s daughter, s
ì?
You look like her.”

Jessie stared at the dark hair and the dark eyes of the woman. “Are you my aunt?”

“I’m Teresa, s
ì.
” She nodded vigorously and rubbed her stomach. “You lose bambino,
sì?
”

No, no, no! Don’t say that. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She did neither.

“You rest. Doctor leave pills for you and you have to eat. Margaret and I will take care of you. Rest.”

Teresa disappeared out the door. Jessie threw back the covers and tried to stand. The room spun. Weakly, she sank on the bed, noticing she was wearing a tan nightshirt. It was very plain, with no frill or lace.

Another woman dressed in a long black skirt and long-sleeved white blouse walked in and immediately ran to Jessie’s side. “Child, what are you doing? Get back in bed.” She covered Jessie, clicking her tongue.
“Teresa’s bringing you some food. You have to eat. You have to heal.”

“Are you Margaret Martinez?”

“
Sì.
I’m Sister Margaret.”

She placed her hand on Jessie’s forehead. “What are you doing here, child?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

C
ADDE SAT IN THE LIVING ROOM
, Mirry in his arms, staring at the Christmas tree. He couldn’t seem to force himself to do anything else. He just needed to know that Jessie was okay, but as each day passed he knew that she wasn’t. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

Dr. Barnes’s secretary called. Jessie had missed her appointment. There was nothing he could do about that, either. Except worry.

Suddenly, Myra came in and threw her purse into a chair. “Why in the hell don’t you answer your cell?”

He lifted the phone from its case on his belt. “I forgot to charge it.”

“What if Jessie calls you?”

Oh, God. How could he forget that? He placed Mirry on the floor and stood.

“Just wait a minute, big guy. I have some news.”

“Jessie called you again?” He grew hopeful.

“No.” Myra took a seat. “It’s about Vernon Lynch.”

Cadde stiffened.

“The D.A. won’t let me work on the case because I’m too closely involved, but I’m pulling all the strings
I can backstage. I’ve talked them into going for murder one and the death penalty.”

“Oh.”

“Lynch came into this house knowingly and willingly to kill Jessie and the baby. I wanted to fry that bastard.”

“Can you prove that?”

“Believe me, I was going to give it a damn good shot.”

“Was?”

“Vernon Lynch hung himself in his jail cell about an hour and a half ago. I got here as fast as I could. I didn’t want you to hear it on the news.”

Cadde plopped onto the sofa. “Damn!”

“Even he couldn’t live with what he’d done.”

Cadde rubbed his hands together. Somehow the news didn’t make him feel better. It didn’t bring the baby back. And it didn’t bring Jessie home.

All the pain was still there.

“I
RECEIVED DIVORCE PAPERS
,” Cadde told Myra.

“What?” Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Jessie took the time to do that?”

He shared what Jessie had told him before she’d left about being responsible for the baby’s death.

“Oh, crap, this just gets worse.” She looked at him. “Did you sign them?”

“Hell, no, and I don’t plan to. I burned them.”

“I used to not like you, but you’re turning into a pretty decent guy. I thought you were after the money.”

“Ever since I was a kid I dreamed of being in the oil business, not as a roughneck like my father, but someone in control, running the company. I guess money was part of it. Roscoe brought me into the office and for ten years I spent almost every day with him, learning everything I could. I had offers from other companies, but I turned them down. I liked working with Roscoe. He was different, hard to please, but he knew the oil business. I had no idea Roscoe was going to give me twenty-five percent.”

“And a wife.”

“Yeah.” He ran his hands over his face. “That hit me like a blow.”

“Why? Couldn’t you see how Jessie felt about you?”

“Honestly, no. From day one Roscoe made it very clear I wasn’t to mess with his daughter. I pretty much had that tattooed on my brain.”

Myra’s cell rang and she reached for it in her purse, turning it off. “I thought she was just infatuated with you. After Roscoe died, I took her to a few parties to…”

“You took my wife to parties?” He couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice.

“Now don’t get your nose out of joint, big guy. Jessie’s never been around men her age and she needed to realize she was a desirable, beautiful woman. Guys were buzzing around her like deranged bees, but she didn’t see any of them. It was always you.”

He drew a deep breath. “When I was with her, she never showed any signs. We talked about Shilah and its future, but we never got into anything personal.”

“Because she was scared. That’s why she came up with that insane baby deal.”

“We tore it up and got beyond that.”

“I know. I wish I had some answers for you, but I don’t. I’m just worried.”

“Me, too.” He jammed his hands through his hair. “I told you not to investigate further to give Jessie some space and time, but now I’m changing my mind. I have to know she’s okay. I won’t try to see her. I need to know.”

“Okay.” Myra got to her feet. “I was only waiting for the go-ahead.” She swung toward the door. “I’ll be in touch.”

Maybe if he knew he could find some peace in his private hell.

J
ESSIE DIDN’T KNOW HOW
many days had passed when she woke up again, but she was better. She wasn’t hot or tired and her mind was functioning. Slipping out of bed, she found her clothes in the dresser and changed into jeans and a knit top.

She vaguely remembered a portly man with a black moustache examining her, Teresa bringing her food, brushing her hair, helping her down the hall to the bathroom and giving her a sponge bath.

The room did a crazy spin and she sank onto the bed, feeling weak. She glanced at the stone walls. What was she doing here? So far from home. If she was planning to outrun the pain, it hadn’t worked. It was just as vivid as ever.

Teresa poked her head around the door. “Ah, you’re awake.”

“Yes, and I feel better.”

“Good, you can come for breakfast in the dining room with the children.”

“Oh, no, Teresa, please. I don’t want to be around anyone.”

“They’re just kids and well disciplined.”

“No, no, please.” She wasn’t ready to face the world, especially children.

“Okay. You have to leave this room soon, though. Sister Margaret will insist on it.” Teresa walked closer. “I don’t want to upset you, but since you had bruises we need to know if you were beaten by someone. We have to inform the authorities.”

“No, no.” She shook her head. “It was taken care of in the States.”

Teresa eyed her. “You sure you don’t want Mother Superior to call someone?”

“No, please. I’m hoping you’ll let me stay here—to heal.”

“You can tell me anything, Jessie.”

“I know, and thanks. I just need some time.”

“Sì.”

Teresa left and Jessie scooted back on the small bed. She heard children’s voices and stood to look out the window. Suddenly, a loud bell rang and children, single file, marched into the church. The boys wore black slacks and white shirts; the girls were dressed in black skirts and white blouses. They were all ages from six to sixteen.

Teresa rushed back in with Jessie’s breakfast.

“Where are the children going?” she asked.

“To mass. We have mass every morning and I have to run.”

“Teresa,” she called. “What’s the date?”

“December 23 and we’re getting ready to celebrate the birth of Christ. The children are so excited.”

Christmas.
She pushed the thought from her mind.

“I don’t know much about religion.”

“It’s not difficult.” Teresa placed her hand over her chest. “You feel it in your heart, you know it in your mind—” she touched her forehead “—and you treasure it in your soul. We’ll talk later.”

Jessie kept watching out the window and saw Teresa flying across the courtyard. What were they doing in there? What was mass like? She gave up trying to figure it out and ate her breakfast. The homemade thick
bread slathered in butter was decadent. Rosa had never made anything like this.
Rosa…home.
The memories seemed to trap her in a purgatory she couldn’t escape.

The children’s voices tempted her again and she returned to the window. The kids were laughing, running, playing. They were happy. How could that be in an orphanage? Maybe it had something to do with their religion.

Teresa rushed back in for the breakfast tray. “Try to walk some today.”

“Could you spare a few minutes?”

“Yes, but not long. The children are out of school for the holiday and someone has to be with them.”

“Where do they go to school?” Jessie was curious.

Teresa looked out the window and pointed. “There is the church, the classrooms, the dormitory, the office and we’re in the sisters’ quarters. The children live here until they’re eighteen and then Mother Superior finds them a job so they can support themselves and live on their own. Some are adopted, some are not.”

“Are…are there babies here?” Why did she ask that? It only made her think and she immediately closed her mind. It was still too painful.

“Ah, babies go quickly. Every couple who comes here wants a
bambino.
”

Jessie sat on the bed and wrapped her arms around her waist. Babies were something she couldn’t discuss. “Please tell me about my mother.”

Teresa lifted a dark eyebrow. “Is that why you came here?”

“I’m not sure. I’m just curious about her.”

Teresa pulled up a metal chair. “She was
bellissima,
like you.”

“I know. My dad had pictures of her.”

“Did he? That surprises me.”

“I didn’t see the photos until after his death.”

Teresa nodded. “That I understand.”

“What was she like?”

“Angela was the oldest, fun-loving and impulsive. She feared nothing but poverty. When our father died unexpectedly, she went to work to help support the family.”

“Stripping?”

Teresa’s eyes opened wide. “You know that?”

“Yes, but little else.”

Teresa seemed uncomfortable and shifted in the chair.

“It’s okay if…”

“No, no.” Teresa waved a hand. “Angela grew up fast in the strip clubs and I wanted to be like her, beautiful, seductive.”

“But it didn’t work out?”

“No, I got in with a bad crowd and did bad things…that’s why I’m here to find some peace so I can live with myself.”

“Did Angela find any peace?”

“Sadly, no. Mr. Murdock was older and she thought she could bend him to her will.”

“What do you mean?”

Teresa shrugged. “She thought she could get the money and the baby.”

“Oh.” That shocked Jessie. “So she never planned to give me up?”

“No. Angela used Mr. Murdock because he had money, but she learned the hard way that nobody uses Mr. Murdock.” Teresa took a heavy breath. “I’m not sure what kind of childhood you would have had with Angela. I loved her but she lived a rough life with many, many…you know. Our neighborhood was rough, too, and my brothers got into gangs. You were better off in Texas.”

“My father…was very controlling, but loved me more than anything on this earth. Maybe a little too much.” Jessie said that from the bottom of her heart, and she meant it. For a moment she hesitated in telling Teresa about her life, but the nuns had been so good to her that she had to speak the truth.

After she told Teresa the story of the guards and the protection, Teresa clicked her tongue. “How sad for you.”

“I never wanted for anything but my freedom.”

Teresa flung out her arms. “You’re free now. You come all the way to Rome.”

Jessie managed a half smile. “I think I was delirious with fever.”

Teresa touched Jessie’s hands. “Are you well enough to talk about why you came?”

Jessie shook her head. “Not yet.” She wasn’t strong enough to open up those feelings. She wasn’t strong enough to face what she’d done.

“I have to go help prepare the meal.” Teresa shoved the chair back against the wall and looked at Jessie.
“Angela loved you and she never gave up hope that one day her little girl would be with her.”

“Thank you.”

After Teresa left, Jessie watched the children and marveled how they found pleasure in a simple thing like kicking a ball. She wondered if she’d ever feel pleasure again or would there always be this emptiness inside her?

In the afternoon she grew restless and ventured out into the long hallway. She came into a large room with sofas and chairs, a TV was in one corner and in the other was a large Christmas tree. She gasped. Oh, no! She ran from the room and opened a door. Suddenly, she was in the courtyard with the children. They stared at her with soulful dark eyes but they made no attempt to approach her.

She eased onto a stone bench and enjoyed the sun on her face. The temperature was chilly, though. She wrapped her arms around her waist. One of the nuns clapped her hands and the children immediately formed a line and marched inside.

Religious statues were here and there. Jesus on a cross was at the front of the courtyard and another was of a woman in a white flowing robe with her hands outstretched to three children at her feet. She’d read enough to know this was Mary, the mother of Jesus. The place had a somber but peaceful feel about it and she sat long into the evening.

The next day everyone seemed to be busy so Jessie explored on her own. There was a girls’ dormitory and a boys’, plus a babies’ room. She didn’t freak out. She
just didn’t go in. Mother Superior was in the office, but since Jessie couldn’t speak Italian they couldn’t converse, or so she’d thought. The elderly nun spoke broken English and Jessie found out Teresa had given up her room for Jessie and was now sharing with Margaret. She tried to talk to Teresa, but she was busy getting ready for Christmas Eve mass. The children had a special program and Teresa was in charge.

As Jessie prepared for bed, she saw the children file into the church again. They were dressed differently. The girls wore long gray jumpers with white blouses while the boys still had the black pants and white shirts, but they had donned black bow ties. They looked so cute.

She tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Slipping from the bed, she grabbed her clothes and put them on. She had no idea what she was doing or why she felt a need to go to the church, but that’s where her feet took her. Her hand shook as she reached for the large wood-carved door lever.

The church was in darkness except for the flickering candles that seemed to be everywhere. She made her way down the side aisle to the back row. Some of the children were to the right of the altar, holding hymnals. Teresa stood beside them in a long gray dress.

A bell rang loudly and everyone got to their feet. The children began to sing. She glanced to the aisle and saw four of the older children in white robes. One held a huge cross. A priest dressed in gold robes stood behind them with baby Jesus cradled in his arms. They all marched in. When they reached the altar, the priest
knelt and placed the statue in the nativity display on the left. Everyone joined in prayer.

Then the priest stood, made the sign of the cross and everyone took their seats as the mass began. Jessie sat, mesmerized, the whiff of incense comforting her senses. Everything was in Italian and she didn’t understand the words but she felt them. The children sometimes sang responses and it was lovely. The people got to their feet to form a line to the front to receive communion. Jessie sat alone, unmoving, but she didn’t feel as lonely.

When the mass ended, the priest took his seat and the children moved in front of the altar with Teresa instructing them. She noticed that black lace covered Teresa’s head, and the girls’ were also covered. She hadn’t seen that earlier. All the women in the church had something on their heads and the nuns wore black veils.

An organ played and the children began to sing. Once again Jessie was mesmerized as the young innocent voices rang out with a message of faith, hope and love. She didn’t need to understand the words; the sound was universal and it moved her in a way she hadn’t expected. As the lovely notes filled her, her broken heart began to beat again and her closed mind opened. In the old, old church she admitted something to herself that she thought she never would.

I lost my child.

I lost Cadde’s child.

Cadde.

Tears clogged her throat and she wanted to cry. She needed to cry. But she couldn’t.

C
ADDE SAT ON THE FRONT PORCH
, with Mirry in his arms, waiting for Jessie. It was Christmas Eve. She’d come home tonight because they had to decorate the tree. A cool breeze reminded him that the weather was getting colder. At 2:00 a.m. he went inside.