voice to a serious tone. “How long ago did your father die?”
Once again, silence lagged on the other side of the door, but he waited patiently for her answer, hoping that it didn’t upset her too much to talk about it.
“One year,” came the faint reply.
“I am sorry. How did he die?”
“He worked in the mines in West Virginia. He contracted a lung disease from the coal that slowly ate away at his body. We moved here before he died.”
“Are you his only child?”
“No. I have an older brother. Matthew lives in Philadelphia.”
“Where is your mother?”
Silence stretched again, but Anton waited.
“She ran out on the family and left with another man when I turned ten. I haven’t seen her since.”
His heart broke. He’d never known such a thing. But then, this wasn’t his country and things were vastly different here.
He flattened his hand on the door, mentally reaching out to her for comfort. “My apologies. I did not realize.”
“Of course you didn’t. Nobody did. I mean, mothers aren’t supposed to leave their families and seek a new life with other men, are they? She took away my childhood, and made me wait on a sickly father and lazy brother.”
“Oh, Vivian...”
“Do not pity me, Anton.” Her voice turned harsh. “The situation shaped who I am today.”
“ Sí , you are very independent.”
“ Indeed, I am.”
“I will not speak of the matter again.” He pulled away from the door and returned to the front room, and sat on the sofa.
What a strong woman Vivian was. It explained why she was so stubborn and spoke her mind. He smiled. He wouldn’t have her any other way.
On the small table next to him sat a framed mini-portrait of an older man. Must be her father. Same smile, same oval-shaped face, and identical eyes. The man’s smile warmed Anton’s heart.
Strange to think their lives were similar. She, growing up without a mother, and he being raised most of his life without his father. His mother and nanny had raised him.
Mi niňera! Excited, he bolted off the chair. He’d forgotten about her. Because he hadn’t lived with his father until he was fifteen, his old nanny could identify him and attest he was not an illegitimate son. The old woman would be an enormous help in fighting the many lies his uncle had spread. Of course, Anton would have to do some serious searching to find her because after he left for war, they’d lost touch. Trying to find her might delay things, but it was worth the chance.
A movement from out the window caught his attention. He dove to the floor and crouched, barely peeking over the bottom of the windowsill to look out. Blackness filled the yard. Not even the moon helped his vision, but he concentrated on the shadows, the trees, and wind-blown leaves drifting over the ground.
Searching the grounds surrounding Vivian’s house, he studied every inch, hoping to discover what he’d seen. After a few moments, there was another movement. Long wavy wheat colored hair streamed in the breeze as Vivian darted behind a tree. He groaned and fisted his hand.
The little tart was running from him! He should have guessed her intentions wouldn’t be good once he told her of their travel plans.
Springing into action, he dashed out the door and chased after her. When she spotted him, she screamed and ran faster, but he outpaced her. He grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop. She tripped and fell, and he followed her down, covering her with his body.
“ Blast you, Anton!” she yelled, striking his chest with her fists. “Get off of me you big brute.”
He took hold of her hands and pinned them to the ground above her head. Her chest heaved in a quick rhythm against his . Glancing down at her clothes, he noticed the man’s black shirt. He also remembered seeing the black trousers that molded to her legs only moments ago.
“You fool. What do you think to accomplish by running?” he snapped.
“I—I—I feel I need to tell my employer where