CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
A Marriage Made in Italy (#ulink_4cf542a9-2853-531e-9c23-d6c2bf9d8bff)
REBECCA WINTERS, whose family of four children has now swelled to include five beautiful grandchildren, lives in Salt Lake City, Utah, in the land of the Rocky Mountains. With canyons and high alpine meadows full of wildflowers, she never runs out of places to explore. They, plus her favourite vacation spots in Europe, often end up as backgrounds for her romance novels, because writing is her passion, along with her family and church.
Rebecca loves to hear from readers. If you wish to e-mail her, please visit her website: www.cleanromances.com (http://www.cleanromances.com).
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_3c258c1a-54dc-510c-93ea-537b08e884d6)
BELLE PETERSON LEFT the cell phone store she managed, and took a bus to the law office of Mr. Earl Harmon in downtown Newburgh, New York. The secretary showed her into the conference room. She discovered her thirty-year-old, divorced sibling, Cliff, had already arrived and was sitting at the oval table with a mulish look on his face, daring her to speak to him. She hadn’t seen him since their parents’ funeral six months ago.
On the outside he was blond and quite good-looking, but his facade hid a troubled soul. He’d been angry enough after his wife had left him, but the deaths of their parents in a fatal car crash meant he was now on his own. Today Belle felt Cliff’s antipathy more strongly than usual and chose a seat around the other side of the table without saying a word.
Now twenty-four and single, she had been adopted fourteen years ago. The children at the Newburgh Church Orphanage had liked her, as had the sisters. But out in the real world, Belle felt she was unlovable, and worked hard at her job to gain the respect of her peers. Her greatest pain was never to know the mother who’d given birth to her. To have no identity was an agony she’d had to live with every day of her life.
The sisters who ran the orphanage had told Belle that Mrs. Peterson had been able to have only one child. She’d finally prevailed on her husband to adopt the brunette girl, Belle, who had no last name. This was Belle’s chance to have a mother, but no bonding ever took place. From the day she’d been taken home, Cliff had been cruel to her, making her life close to unbearable at times.
“Good morning.”
Belle was so deep in thought over the past, she didn’t realize Mr. Harmon had come into the room. She shook his hand.
“I’m glad you two could arrange to meet here at the same time. I have some bad news and some good. Let’s start with the bad first.”
The familiar scowl on Cliff’s face spoke volumes.
“As you know, there was no insurance, therefore the home you grew up in was sold to pay off the multitude of debts. The good news is you’ve each been given fifteen hundred dollars from the auction of the furnishings. I have checks for you.” He passed them out.
Cliff shot to his feet. “That’s it?” Belle heard panic beneath his anger. She knew he’d been waiting to come into some money, if only to make up delinquent alimony payments. She hadn’t expected anything herself and rejoiced to receive this check, which she clutched in her hand before putting it in her purse.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Peterson, but everything went to pay off your father’s debts and cover the burial costs. Please accept my sincere sympathy at the passing of your parents. I wish both of you the very best.”
“Thank you, Mr. Harmon,” Belle said, when Cliff continued to remain silent.
“If you ever need my help, feel free to call.” The attorney smiled at her and left the room. The second he was gone, an explosion of venom escaped Cliff’s lips. He shot her a furious glance.
“It’s all your fault. If Mom hadn’t nagged Dad for a daughter, there would have been more money and we wouldn’t be in this mess. Why don’t you go back to Italy where you belong?”
Her heart suddenly pounded with dizzying intensity. “What did you say?”
“You heard me. Dad never wanted you.”
“You think I didn’t know that?” She moved closer to her brother, holding her breath. “Are you saying I came from Italian parents?” All along she’d thought the sisters at the orphanage might have named her for the fairy-tale character, or else she came from French roots.
Her whole life she’d been praying to find out her true lineage, and she’d gone to the orphanage many times seeking information. But every time she did, she’d been told they couldn’t help her. Nadine, her adoptive mother, had never revealed the truth to her, but Belle had heard Cliff’s slip and refused to let it go.
He averted his eyes and wheeled around to leave, but she raced ahead of him and blocked the door. At twenty-four, Belle was no longer frightened of him. Before they left this office and parted ways forever, she had to ask the question that had been inscribed on her mind and heart from the time she knew she was an orphan. “What else do you know about my background?”
Cliff flashed her a mocking smile. “Now that Dad’s no longer alive, how much money are you willing to pay me for the information?”
She could hardly swallow before she opened her purse and pulled out the check. In a trembling voice she said, “I’d give you this to learn anything that could help me know my roots.” While he watched, she drew out a pen and endorsed it over to him.
For the first time since she’d known him, his eyes held a puzzled look rather than an angry one. “You’d give up that much money just to know about someone who didn’t even want you?”
“Yes,” she whispered, fighting tears. “It’s not important if they didn’t want me. I just need to know who I am and where I came from. If you know anything, I beg you to tell me.” Taking a leap of faith, she handed him the check.
He took it from her and studied it for a moment. “You always were pathetic,” he muttered.
“So you don’t know anything and were just teasing me with your cruelty? That doesn’t really surprise me. Go on. Keep it. I never thought we’d get that much money from the auction, anyway. You’re one of the lucky people who grew up knowing your parents. Too bad they’re gone and you’re all alone now. Knowing how it feels, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, not even you.”
Belle opened the door, and had started to leave when she heard him say, “The old man said your last name was the same as the redheaded smart-mouth he hated in high school.”
Her heart thundered. She spun around. “Who was that?”
“Frankie Donatello.”
“Donatello?”
“Yeah. One day I heard Mom and Dad arguing about you. That’s when it came out. He said he wished they’d never adopted that Italian girl’s brat. After he left for work, I told Mom she ought to send you back to where you came from, because you weren’t wanted. She said that would be impossible because it was someplace in Italy.”
What? “Where in Italy?” Belle demanded.
“I don’t know. It sounded something like Remenee.”
“How did he find out? The sisters told me it was a closed adoption.”
“How the hell do I know?”
It didn’t matter, because joy lit up Belle’s insides. Her leap of faith had paid off! Without conscious thought she reached out and hugged him so hard she almost knocked him over. “Thank you! I know you hate me, but I love you for this and forgive every mean thing you ever said or did to me. Goodbye, Cliff.”
She rushed out of the law office to the bus stop and rode back to work. After nodding to the sales reps, she disappeared into the back room and looked for a map of Italy on the computer. She was trembling so violently she could hardly work the keyboard.
As she scrolled down the list of cities and towns that popped up, the name Rimini appeared, most closely matching “Remenee.” The blood pounded in her ears when she looked it up and discovered it was a town of a hundred forty thousand along the Adriatic. It was in the province of Rimini.
Quickly, she scanned the month’s schedule of vacations for the employees. They all had one week off in summer and one in winter. Belle was on summer break from college, where she went to night school. Her vacation would be coming up the third week of June, ten days away.
Without hesitation she booked a flight from New York City to Rimini, Italy, and made arrangements for a rental car. She chose the cheapest flight, with two stopovers, and made a reservation at a pension that charged only twenty-eight dollars a day. No phone, no TV. The coed bathroom was down the hall. Sounded like the orphanage. That was fine with her. A bed was all she needed.