He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the backs of her fingers. “Thank you, sweetheart. I think I’ve put you through enough. Me and my complications.”

“What will you do? Drive back to San Francisco today?”

He shrugged. “Slowly, perhaps. I might stumble on a hidden gem in restaurants or something along that order. I’m in no hurry. I have too much to think about and I found I liked the driving. It felt good to be in control once again.”

“Don’t go,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Stay over. There’s a guest room. Jillian and Colin, my sister and her partner, will welcome you. We’ll cook together tonight, though you’ll have to make do on what I have in the kitchen. We’ll eat, drink wine, sleep well, and tomorrow you can drive back.”

“What about your very special man?” he asked.

“I’ll call him, invite him to join us.”

“He can do that without being jealous?”

She laughed softly. “He’s neither Italian nor a temperamental chef. If he’s available, he’ll do it with class.”

When Luca opened the refrigerator, he exclaimed, “Duck!”

“From the wilds of Idaho,” she explained. “But there’s one small complication—Lief will be bringing his fourteen-year-old daughter and she thinks duck is gross. Probably because he shoots them and plucks them himself.”

“Hah! A minor inconvenience. Does she like pasta?”

“I assume so,” Kelly said with a laugh.

“Good, we’ll fix her up. And we’ll enjoy duck! How would you like it? Honey-orange glaze? Cassoulet? Confit?”

She laughed at him, watching his excitement grow as he considered the possibilities. “I don’t have juniper or allspice berries on hand for confit, Luca. I do have bacon and sausage if you feel like cassoulet. Or we can rub it down with garlic, stuff it with wild rice, serve it with vegetables…”

“Do you have sherry?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“And merlot?”

She frowned. She recognized the sherry marinade—so Italian—sherry, oregano, garlic, rosemary, basil… “What do you need the merlot for?”

“To drink!” he said, lifting his hand in the air.

And she burst out laughing. Ah, she remembered now—there was so much about him to love. He was so full of fun, of life! And she also realized, not for the first time, that didn’t put her in love with him. They were birds of a feather in the kitchen and it was wonderful, but not necessarily right anywhere else.

The cooking commenced. She was more than happy to take orders. He entertained himself so thoroughly, walking her through each step even though she already knew it all by heart. Once she said, “Luca, I know the recipe.” And he said, “Pay attention, my darling Bella! I could throw you a curve! And it could change your life.”

She just laughed—as if a new twist on perky sherry duck could change her life!

Colin and Jillian came home after a long day away shopping. After introductions, Colin stowed his new art supplies in the sunroom and was back in the kitchen. He sat at the table for a while, laughing at the choreography in the kitchen. Jillian went out to her greenhouse and returned with a basketful of lettuce, leeks, a few small tomatoes and some skinny green beans. Luca snatched it out of her hands and tossed it all in the sink to wash, cook and serve—Kelly couldn’t wait to see how.

Lief and Courtney arrived next, and the moment they were all seated comfortably, Luca had an antipasto tray sitting before them, made out of the contents of the refrigerator and cupboards. He had warmed one of Kelly’s frozen French loaves, exclaiming proudly on the texture and aroma, and added that to the table. He poured olive oil and a few spices onto bread plates for dipping. He put Courtney at the head of the table, completely blew off her pique, and never set a place for himself.

Next he served them duck liver appetizers, deviled eggs spattered with inexpensive caviar and cheese and tomato slices. He had always said the true measure of a chef is what he can bring out of the cupboard at last notice. He continued to serve and pour, talking nonstop as was his way, until he had everyone laughing and swooning over his food. Courtney was brought a small casserole of her very own macaroni and cheese, Italian style, which she couldn’t keep away from everyone else. As their forks constantly threatened her casserole, they had her giggling!

By the time Luca delivered the duck to the table for a viewing before carving, even Courtney was impressed. He applied a sharp knife to a few key places and the meat, usually tough and gamey, fell away from the bone.

“Aren’t you going to sit down, Luca?” Jillian finally asked.

“Why? I eat constantly. My passion is to bring it to your mouths. Mangia!”

He never stopped talking, joking, prodding, stopping just short of spooning the food into their mouths. Even Lief was enjoying the performance, and for Luca, every meal he prepared was a performance. Of course it was no small matter of reassurance that Kelly sat beside Lief and often had a hand on his thigh.

But she was reminded by Luca’s good mood, his joy, his humor and his energy that it was cooking that set him right. It was not his fame or wealth, not his many restaurants nor his picture on the labels of specialty foods, but creation in the kitchen. He might indeed be fond of her, proud of her, but he was not in love with her any more than she was with him. He was in love with his craft. And it would sustain him.

Finally, even though everyone at the table was stuffed to the button-popping stage, he brought out the tiramisu.

“I had nothing to do with this,” he announced. “Except that I’m sure I showed her the recipe and method to such perfection!”

“Always taking credit,” Kelly said with a laugh.

It was nine o’clock before the gathering broke up. Courtney had school the next day, Jill had the garden, Colin had things he wanted to do, and, as Kelly pointed out, Luca had to get back on the road.

But that didn’t prevent Kelly and Luca from sitting up with a new bottle of merlot. He picked the bones of the duck carcass, congratulating himself with every bite. And he also had opened the precious jars of her sauces, relishes and chutneys, raving about each one as he tasted.

“There is a fortune here,” he said.

“Hopefully there’s enough to pay the rent, though I won’t turn away a fortune.”

“If you had the right factory and backing, a fortune,” he insisted.

“Right now, I’m just testing the market. I already know it’s good—it comes from my great-grandmother. It’s always been good.”

“Let me take some back to San Francisco and show them around, see if you find a market there.”

“That would be lovely, Luca.”

He grasped her hand and said, “All the things I promised—your own kitchen, your own trademark, your own restaurant—anytime you want to take me up on that, you have only to call me. I will have you in place in a day.”

“I won’t work in another restaurant like La Touche,” she said. “It’s suicide.”

“You will choose the sous chef, the manager, the staff, the line chefs. And you will make the rules,” he said.

“Thank you, Luca. Your faith in me means a great deal.”

“And production of these recipes? I’ll pay and pay well. I’ll supply the production—we’ll work out a contract so you never have to worry about the rent again!”

“The recipes are precious to me,” she said.

“I understand,” he answered with a nod. “I want you to know, I wasn’t just talking—I meant it when I said you had my support. You could be a success without it, but if I can be a part of it…”

“I’m happy here,” she told him.

“If you’re ready for a change in a month or a year, in two years, it doesn’t matter. Call me. In the meantime, I’ll have one of the new interns put together a distribution list for you for northern California. I’ll write a letter of endorsement you can use.”

“That would be so generous. Thank you.”

They sat up drinking and talking until well after midnight, and still, Kelly was up in the kitchen at six the next morning. Luca followed soon after, ready for coffee and something to eat. By seven they were standing on the front porch, and his car engine was running.

“I mean it, Bella. No matter when you call me, I will not let you down again.”

“Thank you, Luca. That means a lot to me.”

He leaned toward her for a kiss and she obliged. He sucked in a deep breath, pulled her close, covered her mouth with his and worked his magic.

But for Kelly, it was like kissing an uncle. After two years of fantasizing unspeakable passion, it was nothing like their last kiss. What happened to the thunderheads?

It was over for her. Luca was a friend and mentor. She adored him, admired him. And didn’t want him as her partner, lover or even fantasy anymore.

Finally he let her go. He smiled into her eyes and said, “Nevertheless, I will support you in your success.”

And she smiled back. “Thank you, Luca.”

“Call if you need me. If you need anything, at any time. If you ever decide to leave the mountains, just let me know. I will put you to work.”

She nodded. “And good luck with the family. And all that.”

“I believe we could have made a good couple, Bella.”

“Maybe,” she said. “It must not be meant to be.”

He gave her a melancholy smile, a brief salute, and was off down the drive.

The first thing Kelly did after breakfast, after she assumed Courtney was off to school, was drive to Lief’s house. She was a little surprised he hadn’t come knocking at her door, but then he knew Luca was staying over.

When he opened the door and saw her, he was smiling broadly. “You read my mind,” he said.

“I have so much to explain to you,” she said. And over coffee at his kitchen table, she told him the whole story as Luca had told her—stolen phones, fake messages, lies.

At the end of the long and complex story, Lief enfolded her in his arms and said, “Ah, God bless Olivia Brazzi!”

Thirteen

Frequently heard around the Holbrook household these days was, “Courtney! If you take Spike out of the kennel, you have to watch him!” Spike was absolutely the cutest chubby little blond puppy that ever lived. He had a round soft belly, floppy little ears, black eyes and a precious little yip for a bark. And he was a pooping, peeing, chewing machine.

As long as she was constantly reminded, Courtney was coming along as a trainer. The second eight-week-old Spike came out of the kennel, he had to be taken outside. Immediately after eating and drinking—outside. During a pause in romping and playing—outside!

The one really dedicated to the training part was Lief, which surprised him not at all. Courtney was more dedicated to the snuggling part. Since it had been a very long time since there had been any snuggling between Lief and Courtney, he was glad he’d gone along with this idea.

One thing Courtney was beginning to understand—when she went to Amber’s house and took Spike with her, he was locked in a pen with the other few remaining puppies in the barn. Their dogs were not house dogs, and they weren’t really sentimental about them. Spike’s mother had special privileges for birthing and nursing, then was put out again. That being the case, Courtney didn’t take Spike with her. She didn’t like him trapped outside in the barn in the cold night.

For Lief and Kelly, this all meant making love on the sly, during school hours, at Lief’s house, often to the background music of a wailing puppy who didn’t feel like being in his kennel.

“I much prefer your screaming and wailing to his,” Lief told Kelly.

One thing he had to admit—just having the puppy, though sometimes a giant pain, had a positive impact on Courtney’s attitude. She was definitely nicer to him. And her appearance and grades continued to improve. She was building some body mass from the riding, and her appetite had improved as well, probably because of the exercise. Amber came to their house for homework more often than Courtney went to Amber’s, largely because of the puppy.