The Year of Chasing Dreams by Lurlene McDaniel Page B

“Where are my manners? I haven’t offered you anything to drink,” Alice Faye said suddenly, looking mortified.
    Enzo held up his hand. “This is all right.”
    “Not in the South,” Ciana joked. “It’s like a crime.”
    “I have sweet tea,” Alice Faye said.
    Enzo’s brow puckered. “I have brought you wine, an excellent vintage. I will open a bottle if you wish.”
    Ciana remembered the case of wine in the kitchen, knowing her mother would be unable to drink it. She didn’t want her mother put in an awkward position, but before she could say a word, Alice Faye smiled and said, “Sweet tea is the wine of the South, sir. And I make the best for miles around.”
    Enzo dipped his head in consent and Alice Faye exited to the kitchen. He turned to Ciana.
“Tua mama è graziosa, di buon cuore.”
    “My mother is charming and kindhearted,” Ciana translated smugly. “I haven’t forgotten all my Italian.”
    He chuckled, his brown eyes dancing, lit by an inner glow. “You are her best reflection.” Ciana felt her own face growwarm under his scrutiny. She couldn’t deny that she was attracted to him. Enzo was beguiling. And damn near perfect to boot.

    Alice Faye invited Enzo to stay for supper, but he graciously declined, saying he already had dinner plans in Nashville. Ciana had to concede that everything Enzo did seemed gracious. Night had fallen when Ciana walked Enzo out to his car, and the cold air sent a shiver up Ciana’s arms. Enzo reached out, rubbed his gloved hands up and down her coat sleeves. She felt very inelegant in her barn jacket. Still he said, “I’d like to visit you again.”
    “I’d like that too. We’ll go riding. My horses aren’t so grand or finely bred as yours, but they give a good ride.”
    “No doubt. But I come for your company, Ciana, not a horse’s.”
    She flushed. Charming as always. “How long will you be in the States?”
    “Not so sure just yet. All is centered around business. I will call,” he said, and drove away.
    Before she could get up the front steps, Jon caught up with her. “Fancy guy.”
    His observation irked her. “
Elegant
guy. He was very kind to us when we were in Italy.”
    “No doubt.”
    “He’ll be coming back,” she snapped.
    “I’ll make sure to tell Soldier to put him on the approved visitors list.”
    She stamped her foot. “Why are you being so sarcastic? Enzo is an amazing horseman. Has some of the best horses in Europe. You might want to talk to him.”
    Light from the parlor played across Jon’s features. She saw mischief in his eyes. “What’s he going to tell me, Ciana? I want to raise and train mustangs, mongrels to a man like him. No, I’ll leave that field open.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “But that’s the only field I’m leaving open.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    He bounded up the steps. “Come on, I smell fried chicken.”
    She was furious at him and his macho attitude. “You’re really pissing me off!” she growled, as he opened the front door and stepped inside. He turned, winked. She shouted, “This isn’t a contest, you know, Jon. I’m not a prize!”
    He turned, winked. “Supper’s getting cold.”
    She watched him disappear into the house, waited a full five minutes shivering in the dark and cold before she calmed down enough to follow him inside.
    When she walked into the kitchen, he grinned.

After Eden’s close call with drowning, Garret’s family doted on her to the point of embarrassment. Maggie insisted they stick close to the house, so with long lazy days beside the ever calm pool water, Eden began to open up to Garret about her past, working backward, starting with Italy and the fun they’d shared. The gift Garret had always given her was space. He never pressed her or insisted she tell him about herself. To the contrary, when she’d tried to tell him about her past while in Italy, he had brushed it away with “Don’t care. Right now is what