Page 33

Sistine

A lthough I tried to quiet it, the sneeze still made noise. I went to peek outside of the cottage’s kitchen, and Mariano peeked in at the same time.

We almost collided.

“Again,” he said.

I hid my grin. “I have allergies, Casanova. When I am here at this time of the year, something in the air gets to me.” Probably all the dried hay in the air.

He did not look so sure. He kept watching me, as if a sneeze might take me in the air with it, and I would disappear.

He made his way deeper into the kitchen, placing a lingering kiss on my forehead.

I had figured out with my third sneeze that he was being sneaky about checking my temperature, making sure I was not feverish.

He took a small step back, running a hand over my head, before he pulled my—his—sweater down further over my thick leggings. He had given me the one with his football number on it.

Mariano had been a midfielder—one of the most recognizable of his generation of footballers—until he left the sport. He had told me the number on his jersey reflected his position on the field.

His eyes roamed down to my feet.

“Ah!” I pretended mock shock, looking down with him. “My calzini ! They have magically disappeared.”

Mariano insisted I wear thick socks on my feet. It drove him crazy that in my sleep I kicked them off. It felt as if my soles could not breathe. He would instantly replace them. I was now referring to his routine as sock watch .

His eyes flew down and then back up.

My cheeky grin turned into a wide smile, and I could not stop the laughter that barreled through my chest.

“You’re fucking with me,” he said.

“N ooo. ” I drew the word out, still messing with him. “My socks have truly and magically disappeared. Do you see them, Atta Girl? I do not! A sock elf must have nabbed them while I was on snack duty.”

Mariano lifted me over his shoulder and squeezed my ass cheek for being…cheeky. Pun intended.

“Hah?” Atta said, not even looking up. She was cutting snacks—cheese and peppers—and arranging them on the plate with crackers for the movies we were about to watch.

Mariano’s eyes went to Atta, and since I had his back’s view, my eyes went to Angelo. I was willing to bet Mariano and Angelo’s facial expressions reflected each other, almost as if they were both gazing through a Fausti mirror.

Atta had not been herself lately. I tried talking to her, but she gave me bullshit excuses. Angelo seemed as if he were holding pent-up tension inside and was about to blow. Not on her, but perhaps on a wall—his fists doing the explosions.

I smacked Mariano on the ass. “Hannah made sweetgrass tea for me. She told Zia Bianca to send a message to me that it was ready.” I loved it. The tea was earthy with a vanilla twist. It was a natural remedy she always made for me when my allergies started on the ranch.

Mariano nodded, setting me down on my feet. He looked at my socks. “Any elves come near my feet, I’m going to fucking kill them.”

He placed a kiss on my head, then knocked against Angelo’s shoulder.

Mariano must have realized I needed time alone to talk to my cousin, but this also could have been because whatever I needed, he did for me.

I was not positive if his father was the same, but Mariano refused to allow me to even touch trash.

Angelo sighed, wrapping his arms around Atta, and she closed her eyes, the expression on her face almost…helpless, as if she were saying goodbye to him. Her arms squeezed his, and I could tell he had to rip himself away from her.

Mariano gave me a questioning look. He had caught the emotion from her as well. I did not respond, nor did I think he expected me to. We were just communicating with each other without words. The truth of this often slammed into me. How connected we were from the beginning.

After the men left, I took my position next to Atta at the counter, helping her plate the veggies she had prepared. I did not waste time or words.

“What is going on?” I asked her in Italian. Atta could speak three languages. English. Mi'kmaq. Italian.

“It’s just so much to do with the wedding being so close, and?—”

“Stop handing me bullshit lines, Atta. You are loving planning this wedding. Talk to me.”

When her eyes met mine, it seemed as if we met halfway from across a long memory we shared. She dropped her shoulders, and whatever she had been carrying, as she sighed out a heavy breath.

She said one word. “Rattler.”

I crossed my arms. “He is back?”

She nodded. “With his band of bastard thugs.” She concentrated on a red pepper, her eyes almost fixated on it.

“I made a mistake, Sistine. I thought the new European-style stables would be so good for the horses, fancy, you know? Good for the ranch, too. Then all the upgrades that were desperately needed. My agent took a big chunk of money from the record deal. After, I wasn’t left with what I nearly thought I’d be, with taxes and fees taken out.

I don’t have enough money to pay for everything.

The ranch is in debt because of me. Loans need to be paid. We’re in foreclosure.”

“This is when Rattler entered the picture again.”

Her eyes whipped to mine, frantic on my face. “You okay, Sis?”

My knees felt like they had turned to jam, my arms crossed to hide the trembling, but I hid it well. Or so I assumed. I nodded anyway. She went on, because she knew we were both not okay.

“He and his family are trying to take the land from us. Mamma and Granny know, but we don’t want to tell Ty yet. We don’t want him to do something that might start something with them.”

“Angelo,” I said.

“I haven’t told him.”

“Why? You are not alone in this fight anymore.”

“There’s a two-part answer to that, and neither is uncomplicated.

” She sighed, looking behind her to make sure we were still alone.

“The first part is easier than the next.

It felt so good to be the reason our family ranch would continue for generations to come.

I was singlehandedly going to bring financial security to my family.

Mamma, Granny, Ty, none of them would have to worry anymore.

And that might still be possible, once my first record releases and I go on tour to promote it. A lot is riding on sales.

“If my debut album does well, yeah, they’ll pick me up again.

But even with my social media numbers, if my debut record fails, so do I.

Still. I don’t have enough time to come up with the money.

And Angelo’s timing in my life was so unexpected.

I don’t want him to think my attraction to him had anything to do with his money, or the family he belongs to.

My money baggage, or what happens to this ranch that’s been in my blood for years, is not his responsibility. ”

I shook my head, already disagreeing with her, but she took my hand and squeezed.

“I know, Angelo would believe me if I told him money and losing the ranch isn’t the reason I fell for him, because it’s wholly not.

You know me, Sistine. I agreed to marry him the moment I met him because it was the most real moment I ever had in my life.

I can’t even explain it. My heart just knew, and it spoke for me. ”

I nodded at this. My cousin was beautiful, and she oozed sex appeal, but in her personal life, she was very traditional.

Her values were founded on God, honesty, and hard work.

She recognized something in Angelo’s eyes that she knew meant forever.

A connection no other man could fulfill.

She might have resembled Capri, but she was the total opposite of her when it came to behavior and the things she held dear to her.

My sister did not hold anything dear to her—except for status.

“Angelo can help,” I whispered.

She slapped the knife on the counter, closing her eyes, her fists tightening.

“I know,” she whispered, and I could tell she was holding back strong emotions.

“That’s the point. I feel like a failure!

I couldn’t do it on my own. Looking back, regarding money, I have so many regrets.

I was trying to do the right thing, but like daddy always said, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

My road walked me straight into hell. My daddy,” she whispered, shaking her head.

“What will his parents think of me? That I’m using him? I hate this. Hate it.”

I took her hand and squeezed. Underneath her flesh, a tremble ran through her.

“Angelo and his parents will understand. You did not do this underhandedly. This is a lot of land, Atta; even Granny says so. A few times over the years they were in trouble with it as well.” I sighed.

“What about the gala? The charity money?”

She shook her head. “It’s not enough. The donations were already handed out.

What’s left is for ranches that need much less than ours to stay afloat.

We could open the dude ranch again, but again, the money won’t come in time.

Ty is good with dealing with the land, but not so much with taking reservations and things like that.

We’d have to hire someone. Where would I get the extra money?

I’ll be on the road. And besides, I don’t know if even the dude ranch business could bring us out of this.

We need a ton of money and fast. The interest… it’s eating this place alive.”

We sat in silence for a moment. I checked over my shoulder.

Although Fausti men were tall, muscular, and strong, above what any laws should allow, there was nothing clunky about them.

They moved as quietly as the big cats that symbolized their family.

I listened for a second, and when no sounds came to me, I took a deep breath.

“The second part of the answer,” I whispered. “What is it?”

“You know the answer. And you know what’ll happen if Angelo finds out. I don’t want him near them, much less their blood on his hands. They’re not worth it. And if Ty finds out? I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me for not telling him.”

“We were young, Atta. He was younger. You were trying to protect him.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But good brothers will be good brothers. He would have felt daddy would have wanted him to protect us. And what about your man? It wasn’t just me that night.”

Goosebumps seemed to scatter along my neck, as if a cold wind had been let loose in the cottage, and it was running its marble hand along my skin.

If I’d had an answer to Atta’s last question, I would not have been able to convey it, not when I knew we were no longer alone. The door had not made a noise, nor did their footsteps, but I just instinctively knew.

I turned the conversation in a safe direction.

“More peppers?” I asked.

Atta wiped her eyes on the back of her wrist and shook her head. “I think that’ll be enough. What says you?”

“Enough,” I said as Mariano came into the kitchen holding the thermos of warm tea.

Atta sniffed the air, her face transforming into a mask of nostalgic pleasure for a second. “Sweetgrass.”

Angelo waited at the entrance, eyeing Atta again, as if his thoughts had been on her the entire time, and he had never left her. She turned, taking a deep breath, holding out the tray.

“We’ll put the snacks out,” she said to him.

Angelo took the tray from her, setting his free hand on the nape of her neck, and they headed toward the room with the television.

Mariano stared at me for a moment, then set the thermos on the counter, going for two mugs. He was going to make Atta a glass as well.

“You have this?” I nodded to the glasses.

He gave me a narrow look.

I pointed behind me. “Bathroom break before we start the, ah, movies.”

He watched me leave, and although I was walking at a normal speed, my heart raced, and my feet battled with me to follow at the same pace.

To sprint, before he found something in my eyes I feared he would find.