“No,” I lied, embarrassed that he did.
“You told me that you had nothing to your name but these rosary beads. You said that you kept them in a jar with a gold lid. That Father Thomas at the church let you collect them from the floor in the common room and explained that they were still blessed even if they were from broken chains. We were on that flat rock next to the pond, and I watched as you strung each bead with such care and explained that something can come from nothing. When you were finished, you took my hand and wrapped both around my wrist and smiled that gorgeous smile of yours and said they would protect me because I was a good person.” He kissed my fingers as I blinked back the emotion. “Now,” he shimmied back onto his side and got comfortable, “are you going to read to me?”
“I am.” I gently stroked my fingers through his hair, remembering how he had looked at me after I said those words to him and how he took my hand and gave it a squeeze because he couldn’t speak. That moment meant just as much to him as it did to me. I still couldn’t believe he kept them.
When I didn’t start reading, he nudged me and nestled in closer, sliding his hand up my leg and stroking my thigh with his strong fingers.
Sending my gaze down the page, I found where I had left off. He made it through two chapters before his breathing evened out and his muscles finally relaxed.
We stayed there like that for a long while, my fingers fiddling with the beads on his wrist, hanging on to the memory of that day, until the time caught my attention, and I felt my own anxiety take over. Elio had been asleep for nearly three hours, and I had the finished book well over an hour before. I hated that I needed to move and wake him. The moment I shifted, his hand clamped down hard, and I jumped.
“What’s wrong?” His eyes jolted open.
“Nothing,” I said in a soothing voice. “I just need to get ready soon.”
“Okay.” He sat up and rubbed his eyes.
“You can sleep a little longer. There’s still time.”
“No.”
“You’re kind of jumpy,” I teased to see where his head was.
“Can’t imagine why.” He closed his eyes and shook his head, then smiled as he realized how grumpy he sounded. “I don’t nap, ever, so thank you.”
I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Anytime.”
“Wait.” He stopped me from leaving. “Will you take a walk with me?”
“A walk?” I studied the time on the wall. I was still okay for a bit.
“I want to show you something.”
“You do?” I found myself intrigued. “Lead the way.”
He led me out the back door of the Hill House, down a stone pathway and along the edge of the vineyard. “I know that, right now, this place doesn’t feel like home, and I know how important it is to have a place to go, especially when you just need to be left alone. Years ago, I felt that way, too. So, I made a special place where I felt at peace.” He glanced over at me, gauging my interest.
“All right.” I smiled encouragement.
He threaded his fingers through mine and walked me down the hill a little way to where two weeping willow trees stood. He led me through their draping branches into a small grassy area fronted by a bed of lovely sunflowers. A canvas hammock swung between two sturdy trees shaded by the wispy branches of the weeping willows. The protected area was perfectly placed. It had a lovely view beyond its sunflower border down over the vineyard, but it couldn’t be seen from the Hill House or from the side that looked over Elio’s and Mariano’s homes.
“No one can see you here unless they are coming straight up on you from below. It’s a place to come whenever you need to be alone or just want to think.”
With a huge smile, I let go of his hand and admired the magical spot. The weeping branches of the willow brushed over my shoulders as I felt the smooth fabric of the hammock.
“You did this?” He nodded. “Back when you first came here?”
He nodded, but his face fell as he came closer and joined me in the shady hideout. He leaned his shoulder against the tree and folded his arms as though he found it hard to explain.
“A year after we moved here, I had the roses that lined the area dug up and replaced them with sunflowers. Much like your necklace, I also needed something that reminded me of you. It took a few years to get it the way I wanted it.” He looked over at the hammock that hung between the two trees. “I planted the sunflowers myself, every spring. I never pictured myself as a gardener.” He laughed softly and looked down at his fingers, and I noticed his edges of his nails looked stained. “I just figured if we were ever to be here together, I wanted you to like it. Maybe it sounds foolish, but now I know I was preparing it for you.”
I was speechless. How could a man be this thoughtful when he’d felt all hope was lost?
“Climb in.” He pointed to the hammock, and I slowly eased into it and was pleasantly surprised when he joined me, slipping an arm under my shoulders. I tucked my head against his neck.
“I love that you never gave up on us. Thank you.” He turned and kissed my forehead, and we snuggled in and spent a few more blissful moments enjoying a spot that was reserved just for us. Just as I got comfortable, he lifted his free arm and checked the time.
“I hate to say it, but we should get going.” He offered me a hand, and we headed back toward the Hill House.