“Grazie,” I whispered as he helped me from the rocking chair.
I sighed in real time, feeling the same rocking sensation I did that day. My world was being rocked from beneath me. I was not sure what our walk would accomplish, but my heart was hopeful.
Luca had kept my arm in his as we ventured around the property. Mariano had cleared a road for us. He did not take much, just paths wide enough for us to travel on. Luca was somewhat out of place, but I could never say the same for his grandson. He was more versatile. Another of his father. A touch of his mamma. Matteo reminded me of Luca more than Brando, although there was a thick line that connected them all.
Luca and I spoke of the land. I told him of the wild animals I saw there.
“No lions, ah?”
“No,” I breathed out, smiling a little. “I am afraid Wyoming does not entertain them. Except for recently. An influx of them have made this their home for the time being.”
He smiled. “Wyoming does entertain other wild animals, for the long term, however.”
“Sì.”
“It also has wildflowers.”
“Sì,” I said a little more excitedly. “In springtime, they are a vision.”
“Bene,” he said. “This will remind my grandchildren of their grandmother.”
We stopped walking, turning to face each other. My eyes locked with his. A chilled breeze broke around him, barely touching me, but somehow, a smoky tinge lingered between his body and mine.
“You are the granddaughter of my heart.” He took my hand and placed it over his steady beating heart. “An honor to call you so.”
“It is my honor, as well, to call you grandfather of my heart,” I responded in Italian.
Our entire conversation took place in Italian after this.
He grinned at me, kissing my hand, and we started walking again. I was in a bit of shock but refused to allow him to see it. Hehad granted me the title so easily. I was not sure why. I had never spent time with him. Whenever he came into the jewelry store, I avoided him.
He had laughed, breathless and quiet. “I have noticed you for years, Sistine,” he said. I know who you are. I could have told my grandson you were the one. You held his heart.”
We stopped walking again and faced each other.
“You found him inside of me,” he said.
My cheeks scalded. He had noticed how enamored I could be with him despite my attempts to hide it.
He patted my hand, being the ultimate gentleman by not adding to my embarrassment and stating the truth. He knew I had been admiring him whenever he would come into the jewelry store.
I could not see how I could not admire him and not fall for his grandson. Perhaps Matteo might have been more like his grandfather, but Brando was a mirror vision to his father, except for a few small differences, and my husband was a mirror vision to him. It did make sense that I found my husband inside of his grandfather. He had existed there all along.
Luca began walking again. “My grandson’s steps were directed to you by fate. You looked up from your workspace, designing stellar pieces for our family, and he found his heart. Now I will tell you a story that spans centuries.
“In this world, which is undoubtedly crowded, a man must go on a quest to find what is vital to him. His heart. He must claim it from his woman but also allow her to carry it. Trust her enough to. Even if she might destroy it, he will do it. He has no other choice. This is the romance in our veins, ah?”
“Sì.” I nodded.
“The ruthless inside of us will keep her safe for all her days. There is no other way. If God calls her home, we will never bethe same. Our heart goes with her. It has been with her since the beginning. Again, a man who loves truly has no choice.”
“Your mamma,” I said, remembering how Mariano had told me Grazia Angeli, his great-grandmother, the famous Italian actress, had been taken by cancer—a greater foe than his grandfather could fight.
My husband had held me closer then, a tremble going through him at the thought. It was not fear, but pure heat—he would fight off whatever came at me. He would sacrifice his own heat for me.
“My Mamma,” Luca had said, his voice softer on the word. Perhaps it was this softness that gave meaning to the word and what it meant to him. “My father was never the same. Our family lived for him, and this was his life.”
“I am sorry,” I whispered, understanding what he had meant, but he went on in detail.
