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So he’d paced.
“Mamá, do you want to go to Fitzgerald House?” Carolina asked.
“They have light. And wine.” Her mother smiled. “Yes.”
“Okay.” Carolina slapped her hands on her thighs. “Let’s go.”
Rosa cupped Carolina’s face. “You are the best thing that ever happened in my life. You know that, don’t you?”
“I love you.” Carolina’s voice was a whisper in the dusky room.
His chest ached as Rosa dropped her forehead to Carolina’s. The two women hugged. He could almost feel the love and pain pulsing through their veins. He had to swallow back tears. His brothers would tease him mercilessly if they knew.
How could he have ever thought she didn’t live with honor? He was so wrong. And he was paying for his arrogance by Carolina booting him from her life.
At least he could help her right now. She wasn’t cruel enough to tell him to stay somewhere else until the storm passed. She was too honorable.
“Rosa, let me help you down the stairs.” His voice sounded like it was filled with gravel. “We’ll help each other. Together.”
Carolina looked up, like she’d forgotten he was there.
He tried to lighten the dark mood blanketing the room. “I don’t want either of you lovely ladies being blown away.”
They donned their coats, pulled up their hoods.
“Everyone ready?” he asked.
The Castillo women nodded.
“I’ll walk down the left side. Rosa, hang on to my waist. Carolina, hang on to your mother.”
They nodded, not even complaining that he’d taken charge.
On the landing, he clasped Rosa’s hand on his waist. “Let’s go,” he yelled. A wind gust carried his voice away.
They worked their way down the stairs, one step at a time. Each gust tried to pull them apart, but Rosa dug in and Carolina stayed right with her mother.
At the foot of the stairs, he wrapped an arm around Rosa’s waist and Carolina did the same. “All together.” And imitating a six-legged caterpillar, they fought their way through the wind and rain.
By the time they reached the kitchen door, Rosa’s face was white.
“Get your mother inside,” he yelled.
Carolina nodded and as soon as Sage opened the door, she helped her mother over the threshold. They shook off their wet coats. There was a stack of towels and Carolina handed them out and tried to dry off her mother.
Even though it was hot and humid, a fire burned in the fireplace. A weather radio played in the background.
“Mamá, come get dry.” Carolina led her mother to a chair near the hearth. Then she laid out a towel so her mother didn’t get the chair wet.
The swinging door opened and Abby waved. “Glad you braved the rain.”
“We were going stir-crazy, so we took you up on your offer,” Carolina said.
Abby came into the sitting area and took one glance at Rosa and said, “Can I get you something? A cup of tea or coffee? Water?”
“I need to catch my breath.” Mamá’s head dropped to the back of the chair.
Is she all right? Abby mouthed.
Carolina knelt at her mother’s feet, taking her hands. “Do you want to lie down again?”
“No. I just…need…time. That wind was fearsome.”
Fearsome. Not a word you heard every day.
Carolina covered her mother with a throw and then moved into the main section of the kitchen. “I’ll take something to drink.”
Sage followed her and Abby.
“I’ve got a pot of tea brewed.” Abby pointed at a pot covered with something that looked like hot pads. Then she pointed at the carafes sitting on the counter. “Or there’s coffee.”
They all doctored their preferred beverages.
“That might be the last pot of coffee for a while,” Abby said as they sat at the table and kept their voices low so they didn’t disturb Rosa. “I don’t have many plugs available when we’re using the generator.”
“Then I’ll enjoy it,” Sage said.
“How many people arrived last night?” Carolina asked.
“We’re full in Fitzgerald House.” Abby shook her head. “We don’t have a generator at Carleton House, so it’s empty. Only one couple from out of town decided to wait out the storm. Everyone else is from the evacuated areas.”
“You could really jack the prices up, if you wanted,” he mused.
“Sage!” Carolina looked like she could spit nails. At him. “My sister would never do that.”
Abby’s eyebrows arched over her green eyes. Was it because Carolina was defending her or the fact that Carolina had called her a sister. “Carolina’s right. How could I do that?”
