Betrayal (20 page)

They didn’t know that part, of course.

Their arrival brought the family to their feet, laughing and calling out, rushing forward to hug and exclaim.

Noah laughed, too, and hugged, and exclaimed, and preened. He explained to DuPey and his brothers that
Annie was ready to show up on Nonna’s doorstep to see for herself that she was okay, and he had simply made it easier for her.

Annie explained that in three days, they were off to visit June’s place off the coast of California, and they wanted Sarah to come with them.

Sarah shot Noah an annoyed, knowing glance and gently refused, saying she couldn’t leave until the kids had cleared up a few things. When her grandsons all urged her to go, she promised to visit in the autumn.

Everyone was happy at this unexpected family reunion.

Noah pressed his hand to the dog collar hidden under his shirt.

The impulse for confession had passed.

It was better that way.

Chapter 28

P
enelope decided that if she was going to stay in Bella Terra for employment and to work out her personal problems, she had to make her life here bearable.

After Friday, her first full day of working with Brooke Di Luca, she searched out the best Mexican restaurant in town. She discovered it across the river, housed in a crummy little building where plastic tablecloths printed with parrots and hibiscus covered the tables, And the dining chairs all had torn vinyl seats. Yes, The taqueríA guadalajara might look like a greasy spoon, But the seared pork
tortas
tasted so good they brought tears to her eyes.

On Saturday night, while sitting alone in her motel room listening to the ruckus that was the Beaver Inn, she decided to screw up her courage and go to the Di Lucas’ the next evening for their weekly dinner party.

Maybe it wasn’t the brightest idea. After all, Noah would be there.

But the coming week would be difficult for her, not because of what faced her in the future—she was very aware that in a couple of days she would be meeting her father—but because of what had happened in her past.

Tears filled her eyes, and hastily she wiped them away.

She needed diversion. She needed people around her. She needed kindness and family, and she knew she could find it all in Sarah Di Luca’s home.

So Sunday afternoon, she returned to Taquería Guadalajara, and for an extra fee and a lot of flattery, the cook cut the
tortas
into appetizer-size pieces and put them in a to-go box.

Lovingly she placed the
tortas
in the passenger seat and drove to the Di Luca ranch, her stomach growling all the way. That was good, a distraction that kept her from remembering the last time she’d driven up here googly-eyed with a love she thought would last forever.

She snorted.

Ah, youth. Wild, lighthearted, optimistic… stupid.

She turned off the main road and onto the long driveway that wove first through vineyards filled with old, well-tended grapevines, then through a large, well-tended yard with grass and flowers and dotted with sprawling old valley oaks spreading their shade across California’s heartland.

Penelope slowed as she passed the house to examine it; the Di Luca home looked the same: American farmhouse traditional, square and white, with flowers blooming around the edges and the open windows breathing in the fresh air. The only change she could see was a new coat of white paint and a handicapped ramp that came straight off the left side, took a corner, and came back to the sidewalk. The sameness gave her a feeling of continuity
and was at the same time a little disorienting, as if she’d stepped back in time.

She swung into the parking space between a green extended-cab F-250 with massive tires and a gleaming black BMW 650 with an engine so massive she could almost hear it humming—and the car was off.

She knew, without being told, that both vehicles belonged to Di Lucas.

She hoped her mother’s conservative old Volvo C70 didn’t get a complex.

A police cruiser was parked there, and Brooke’s car, and a Porsche Panamera 4-S, and, incongruously, a new red MINI Cooper.

It looked as if the Di Lucas had a good crowd for the evening.

Good. Penelope would blend right in.

She grabbed the
tortas
, got out, and turned to look around.

The summer solstice was only two weeks away, and at five o’clock the sun leaned toward the west, filtering through the massive oaks on the long stretch of lawn and giving the three women moving up the driveway a patina of agelessness.

Penelope recognized them. She had met them all that summer nine years ago: Noah’s great-aunts Annie and June and, most important, Noah’s beloved grandmother, Sarah. They wore sun hats; obviously they’d been for their daily walk along the paths in Nonna’s capacious yard. Now they hurried toward her, Annie’s dog in a vest and on a leash, June’s hand resting on Annie’s mechanical wheelchair, while Sarah smiled broadly and waved at Penelope.

Penelope waved back, deposited her
tortas
on the steps, and hurried to greet them.

“Dear girl, I had hoped to see you!” Sarah embraced her, looked into her face as if rememorizing her features, then embraced her again.

Why had Penelope ever hesitated for a moment to call or visit? Immediately she knew Sarah would never reproach her or pile on the guilt. “It’s been too long.”

“Don’t be a stranger, no matter what is happening with my reprehensible grandson—who is here, by the way.” Sarah glanced toward the house. “That’s why I hardly dared hope that you would come to our Sunday-night dinner.”

Faint alarm stirred in Penelope. “I hope I’m not intruding. I was trying to decide when to come out, and Brooke and Rafe urged me to come tonight—”

Annie laughed. “Intruding! We Di Lucas live for your kind of intrusion. Do you remember me, Penelope?”

“Indeed I do, Mrs. Di Luca.” Penelope shook her hand, and then when Annie tugged, she leaned over and hugged her.

“You can’t call us
all
Mrs. Di Luca.” June kept one hand on the handle of the wheelchair and offered her cheek. As Penelope kissed her, she pointed and said, “June, Annie, and Sarah. Those are our names. We married the Di Luca brothers, which worked out well, since we knew and liked one another in high school—although I’m the youngest—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sarah said.

“—by three years,” June continued.

“Only two years for me!” Annie said.

“And in the Di Luca family, we are collectively known as ‘the girls.’ ” Sarah smiled at her friends.

They smiled back.

“This is Ritter.” Annie indicated her dog. “He’s half yellow Lab, half golden retriever, trained by Canine
Companions for Independence, and he’s been with me for six years. Ritter, sit!”

Ritter sat lopsided, as if the rocks in the driveway pushed him off-kilter.

“Penelope, offer your hand,” Annie said. “And you, Penelope, you say, ‘Ritter, shake!’ ”

Penelope did as she was told, and when he offered his paw, she laughed into his big brown eyes. “He smiled at me.”

“He loves everybody. People who don’t know him say, ‘It must make you feel safe to have a dog with you all the time.’ But this dog would help the burglar carry out the family silver.” Ritter looked at Annie as if he understood her lament, and she rubbed his head. “Yes, you’re a good boy.”

“He’s not with Annie to protect her; he’s here to assist her, and he does that very well.” Sarah hooked her arm through Penelope’s. “Pretend you’re an assistance dog, and help this old woman into the house. My younger friends have worn me out.”

“I told you to let us know when you got tired,” Annie scolded. “You’re barely out of the hospital.”

“I’m fine,” Sarah said, then admitted, “My arm still aches from the break, and sometimes I get a lingering headache.” She pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “I don’t heal as quickly as I used to.”

“You’ve never had a concussion and a broken arm at the same time before.” June directed Annie toward the handicapped ramp.

“The girls had been chomping at the bit to visit, but we told them no, it was still too dangerous.” Sarah glanced at Penelope questioningly. “Noah said he’d told you of our troubles?”

“Yes, and I’m sorry to hear of them.” And not just because she was a coward. She hated to think of Sarah injured and her lovely, pleasant world blighted.

“The girls don’t listen worth a darn.” Sarah glared at the other two
girls
.

Annie craned to look behind her and around June at Sarah and Penelope. “You scared us half to death, Sarah!”

“I’m a tough old bird.” Sarah and Penelope followed Annie and June up the ramp.

“The operative word being the
old
part,” June said.

“You girls are
mean
. Now stop before you scare Penelope.” At the top of the ramp, Sarah turned Penelope to face the valley. “Whenever I need a dose of courage, I come out here and ask myself, How many eons has the river carved the rock? How long have the oaks dug their roots into the rocky soil? How many years have men and women loved, laughed, lived, and died in this place?”

Penelope took a breath. Sarah had divined that she was nervous about going in, meeting the family, being drawn into the relationships she enjoyed before… seeing Noah again. So Sarah had given her the strength she needed to go on.

Penelope’s doubts were nothing but a momentary shift in the winds, and if she kept her composure, behaved with dignity, treated these Di Lucas like the friends they were… her time here would be another layer of serenity and warmth added to the long Bella Valley years.

That was why she was here now, tonight. To face the Di Luca family, to join the human race again, to prove that she had the strength to move on with her life. It only made sense to do it here, in the place where she had
tumbled from foolish girlhood onto the long, rocky road to maturity.

Penelope ran down the steps, picked up the box of
tortas
, and ran back up. “Shall we go in?” she asked.

Sarah pressed her arm. “Let’s do it.”

Chapter 29

P
enelope held the screen door open as Annie, June, and Sarah went in. She followed them down the hall to the kitchen at the back, past the living room where the muted television played a baseball game no one watched, past the dining room where the long table groaned under the weight of salads, wraps, and casseroles. From the kitchen, they heard the steady hum of conversation punctuated by the occasional loud argument or metallic slam of a pan.

When Penelope had visited Nonna’s house all those years ago, the party always started in the kitchen. Apparently nothing had changed.

Everyone looked up and greeted Penelope when she and the girls walked in. She recognized Eli, Rafe, and Police Chief DuPey. Sarah introduced Penelope to Chloë as a dear friend of the family, and Eli’s young wife examined Penelope as if she didn’t quite see her.

“She’s writing a book,” Eli explained. “She checks in and out of reality at her own convenience.”

“It’s a good trick if you can do it,” Penelope said.

Chloë’s eyes widened; she nodded. “Good line.” And she typed briskly for a moment.

Sarah’s kitchen looked different, updated with new appliances. And the same, with the big round wooden table where the enthusiastic group was gathered around a pile of red, white, and blue chips in the center of the table.

The general feeling was of ramshackle goodwill and impending fun, except…

Penelope’s gaze zeroed in on Noah.

Damn it.

He looked back, his eyes narrowed, noting her casual wine red button-down shirt, chosen for comfort and for the message it sent—
I’m a woman at ease with myself
. He skimmed her formfitting blue jeans, noted her red cork wedge sandals and the sheer gloss polish on her toes. He looked at her clothes, but what he saw was… her, naked and vulnerable.

He saw, and she responded with that familiar breathlessness that came from being flung high into the atmosphere.

And he didn’t even have to touch her.

She had told herself that coming to this gathering would serve as a signal to the others—and herself—that she had moved beyond her old fears and desires. That as a mature adult, she could face whatever life threw at her.

Perhaps what she should have remembered was that in less than two years she had suffered great losses. Time was slowly returning her strength and confidence. She was no longer as fragile—but she was still desperately
lonely. And a sizzling chemistry still existed between her and Noah. Loneliness around him created a danger to her peace of mind, and maybe her sanity.

How long had they stared at each other? Too long.

The others were watching.

Penelope tore her gaze away from his.

An awkward silence reigned in the kitchen.

Then, to her surprise, Rafe came to the rescue. “Hey, Penelope, I forgot to tell you. Your security check was clean.”

His reassurance was so completely unexpected, she blinked at him in confusion. She snapped into the moment and in a sarcastic voice said, “Imagine my surprise.”

He laughed.

Like a spring, the tension in the kitchen was released.

“You know how it is—Rafe likes his security checks,” Eli said. “Girls scare him.”

“Girls scare any intelligent man,” Rafe said.

He got a heartfelt, “Amen,” from DuPey, and Penelope relaxed as conversation began to rumble along at a normal level.

The poker game seemed to be down to two players—Brooke, holding her cards open and smiling faintly, confidently. And Noah, sprawled in his chair, five cards in his hand, a bottle of beer at his elbow, handsome as hell and just as likely to incite Penelope to sin. If she wasn’t careful. Which she would be.

Luckily for her, he seemed faintly… hostile.

Good.
Hostile
she could handle.

A thin, delicate-looking young Asian woman slipped silently into the kitchen.

Rafe went on alert. “How’re things out there, Bao?”

“Quiet, but…” Bao spread her hands in a helpless gesture. “Someone’s watching. I can feel it.”