Page 27 of The Scent of Snow
Griffin shook his head, his handsome face lined with worry. “I’ll go myself—”
“The scarps are too dangerous in the dark. One false step, and you will fall over the precipice.”
“But I—”
“Pedro will save them. He might not be the perfect family man, but I trust him with my life.” Anne imbued her gaze with certainty.
Her brother nodded, his chin falling to his chest.
She turned to her husband’s aide-de-camp. “Dante, ride to the village. Tell the villagers I ordered them to light their luminarias now.”
“But, my lady, you canceled the Christmas celebrations and said they shouldn’t—”
“Now, Dante.”
Anne placed her hands over the windowsill. The landscape had all the shades of darkness.
Love of My Life, give me ten children or give me none. Just come back to me.
She then approached the women. For the first time, they gazed at her, not trying to comfort her, the youngest among them, but looking at her for directions. It was easier to be the youngest, Anne realized, and much easier to let taller, stronger shoulders weigh the responsibility.
She had allowed Pedro to nurse his sorrows. Her half-hearted attempts to understand what he had been going through had been superficial, more a way to calm her own fears than to truly understand his struggles. Leonor's words echoed in her mind.Love alone isn’t enough. The curse runs deeper. In love, we often see only ourselves. In acceptance, we see the other.Had her love been selfish, fixated on love itself rather than genuinely seeing Pedro? Was her worry more about her hurt from his sorrow than about his actual pain?
Not anymore. If Pedro returned to her, she would delve into his feelings and help him deal with his grief.
Anne caught Julia’s hand in hers and then Isabel’s and guided them to the Christmas tree. Silently, Anne lit three candles over the nativity scene, and they gathered around them, sitting cross-legged over the carpet. The serene figures, bathed in the candlelight, watched over their vigil.
Henrique sat behind Isabel and brought her closer atop his lap so her back rested over his chest.
Griffin embraced Julia. “I don’t mind how Tony turns out. Nor Clara. As long as they return, they can join the circus for all I care.”
Julia looked at Anne, her eyes pleading. “What do we do now?”
Anne met her friends and family’s gaze. “We pray.”
Chapter 10
Withagutturalshout,Pedro launched himself after the children, the world narrowing to the expanse of space between them. Time stretched, his heart pounding like battle drums as his arms reached out, fingers grazing the chilled rocks.
The children’s cries rose above the river’s roar, spurring Pedro onward. As the ground crumbled beneath them, Pedro’s arms encircled the children in a vice-like grip. The air was knocked out of him as he tumbled down the steep mountain, the stones scraping his back and shoulders. The riverbed loomed below.
He spotted a cave in a flash of instinct—a mere shadow against the cliff face. Pedro twisted his torso, guiding them away from the abyss, and used the momentum to steer them into the opening. Rocks lashed at them as they rolled into the cave, Pedro taking the brunt of the fall.
They skidded to a stop, a heap of breathless, pounding hearts in the dim shelter. Dust settled around them like the aftermath of a storm. The children clung to him, their sobs subsiding into quivering breaths.
Antonio broke away from Pedro, pulling the little girl close. The siblings embraced each other, a knot of grimy skin, dark hair, and luminous eyes. Memories of his brother flashed before him, and a familiar ache tightened in Pedro’s chest. Cris should be here by now. Where was the rascal?
Pedro looked away from the brotherly love to inspect their surroundings. The entrance of the cave stood out against the setting sun. The occasional gleam from the river cast ghostly ripples on the granite walls. The interior was narrow but deep. Nothing but dank rocks surrounded them, not even branches to provide kindling.
Tony pulled away from the girl and brushed his tears with angry swipes.
“Can we leave?”
“Not in the darkness. We’ll have to spend the night here. Now sleep.”
Pedro leaned back, stretching his legs over the opening to avoid any attempts to disobey his orders. Each breath he took felt heavy, laden with gelid air and responsibility. Pedro closed his eyes, attempting to lead by example. Memories of Anne and their exchange haunted him. How would he survive if she left? His mind spiraled, but the pressing concern of the children grounded him.
The boy laughed. “Do you think this will be easy? My mother complains she never gets to sleep because Clara keeps her eyes and mouth open no matter what.”
