Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Staring down at the lumpy mess, I knew I had to go through with it.
Although I’d considered how to get out of eating the baked biscuit prepared by Eduardo, my five-year-old, his hopeful gaze melted my heart. Annabelle, my wife, balanced Jacob our one-year-old on her hip, as she suppressed a laugh. The cook also wore a grin but diverted her gaze.
I disapproved of my oldest doing anything in the kitchen, but Annabelle insisted that he loved nothing more than to play with dough and flour. Eduardo’s penchant for making a mess could be best achieved here, apparently.
The biscuit tasted just how it looked. I feigned my delight and Eduardo’s face lit up. He ran into my arms, insisting I finish it.
And I did.
Annabelle gave a nod of approval. Cook offered me another biscuit with a familiar smirk. I gestured to Eduardo that I was full.
I still had to pinch myself with the realization of such fulfillment. As his small hands clutched at my shirt, and he snuggled against my chest, I knew the responsibility of keeping him safe.
Keeping them all safe.
I followed Annabelle and the children along the corridor, and we made our way out onto the back porch.
This shell of a house had become a home thanks only to the presence of my family.
My children had redefined my world and, as only the young can, they helped me to perceive all things through an innocent perspective.
Annabelle headed farther into the garden carrying Jacob, with Eduardo trailing close behind. I leaned against the doorframe. I loved these summer evenings. Our children’s bedtime routine played out night after night as Annabelle, the perfect mother, used up the last of their energy.
Annabelle strolled over the lush lawn and placed Jacob on a blanket that was spread over the grass. She grasped Eduardo’s hands and spun him round and round, much to his squealing delight.
Annabelle was the free spirit that the house of Velde needed.
Eduardo and Jacob were in every way their father’s sons.
Eduardo was the mischievous one, taking after me, off exploring at every opportunity, and Jacob, who took after Annabelle, with his dark complexion and large brown eyes, was a calm, sweet soul.
Even aged one year, his kind temperament was evident.
Annabelle turned, picked up her skirts, and ran away from the house with little Eduardo running after her. I strolled over to Jacob and picked him up. Sublime innocence.
Giving my boys a happy childhood did in many ways make up for the loss of mine. Through them, I found myself reliving all that I’d missed.
Jacob stared up at me with that infectious grin of his and then vomited onto my shirt. Annabelle’s laughter rippled around the garden and Eduardo screamed. I, too, saw the funny side. Annabelle offered to take Jacob, but I gestured I was fine and planted kisses on the top of his head.
The sour-smelling stickiness had soaked through to my skin. Jacob stared at the gooey mess and giggled.
“Have I no power in this house?” I said, winking at Annabelle.
In an hour, the boys would be in bed, and I’d steal precious time with the woman who’d taught me how to trust and how to love.
I welcomed this happiness and the feeling of normalcy. This was not just serenity, but something quieter – a private grandeur. A hush within, where nothing claws or cries. A clean, lit room in the soul where nothing hurts, nothing else is wanted or needed. Only this strange, unfamiliar comfort.
Later that evening, I read the dispatch from Senor Teofilo’s office.
The letter from Salvador and Alicia had originated in Italy and been routed via the attorney’s office, and, even then, was written in code. After studying the letter, I memorized the words and tone, then threw it into the fire.
A small price to pay for the peace of mind that Felipe wouldn’t find them. Ever wary, I ordered my workers to take turns in guarding our residence. I’d fired the three men I’d found napping during their watch since they hadn’t taken my paranoia seriously.
I heard a knock on the study door.
Annabelle entered the room and wrapped her arms around me. We both watched the fire ignite the paper in the hearth and flame up.
“How would you feel if I gave Eduardo his first riding lesson?” I asked.
She pulled away and scrunched up her face. “On those big horses of yours?”
“We’ll get him a pony.”
“Perhaps when he’s a year older?”
I nudged her. “They’ll grow up one day, you know.” I smiled. “Speaking of babies, Alicia’s pregnant.”
“How many months along?”
“Five.”
“And Salvador?”
“He’s well. Ricardo, too.”
“Perhaps we’ll be blessed with another child.”
I hugged her. “What would you say to us moving?”
She gave me a look of surprise. “But I love it here.”
“We can rebuild.”
“This is our home. I won’t let that man run us out of it.” She gazed up at me. “He’s forgotten all of that now.”
I knew that’s what she wanted to believe, and so did I, but Felipe had proven himself to be vicious.
“What could he do to you now?” Her eyes widened, as though she’d read my mind.
A part of me knew, despite the five years that had passed since I’d last seen him, that Felipe still held a grudge.
His thirst for power paled in comparison to his desire for wealth.
We lived on the very land he believed should be his.
Yet Annabelle was right, we had been left alone.
No dispatches from his lawyers and no more threats.
“I have something to show you.” Annabelle placed her small hand in mine and guided me out of the study.
“Where are we going?” I pulled her toward me and stole a kiss.
“You’ll see.”
I followed her out onto the lawn, looking up at the clear night sky.
A sudden thought made me cringe. “Oh, God, I haven’t forgotten our anniversary, have I?”
“Silly.” She pointed to a row of small shrubs. “This is the best place for them.”
I stared down at the twigs sprouting out of the ground.
She beamed with pride. “Rose bushes.”
“What color?”
“Red.”
I pretended to find joy in this moment, even though disconcerting memories were stirred by remembering the scent of roses. I studied the twigs and considered the wisdom of staying here to see them grow.
“There’s plenty of sun here.” I knelt to examine one of the buds. My fingertip caught on a thorn, and the puncture went deep. I sucked on the oozing drop of blood, quietly alarmed that the sharp sting I felt was a terrible omen.