Chapter 41: he is the guilty

“Chianti would be good,” Rafe told her. When she had gone, he regarded Hanna with concern. “Don’t start taking what she said and exaggerating it in your head. Francesca may be perfectly fine. She might just be taking some time off.”

“You don’t know her. She doesn’t take time off, not willingly.” She started to stand up. “Maybe I should go over there to check on her.”

Rafe tugged her back down. “Maybe you should wait and let Tony answer your questions before you go charging over to see her.”

“These are my friends,” she said, “not yours.”

“That doesn’t make my advice any less sensible,” he said mildly.

Hanna sighed and relented. “You’re probably right. I’m probably making a mountain out of a molehill. Tony would have told me if it was anything serious.” “Exactly,” he said just as Peggy returned with the wine and a promise that

Tony would join them shortly.

“Do you want to order before that?” she asked.

“No,” Hanna said at once. “I want answers before I want food.”

“Speak for yourself,” Rafe said. “How about a plate of antipasto for the time being?”

“You’ve got it,” Peggy said, then went off to check on another group of late arrivals.

When the antipasto arrived, Hanna realized that she was ravenous. Since there was nothing she could do until Tony emerged from the kitchen, anyway, she picked up a carrot stick, then a stalk of celery, then reached for the warm garlic bread that Peggy had brought with it. Rafe watched her approvingly.

“That’s better,” he said at last. “You’ve got some color back in your cheeks. I was worried there for a bit. This tendency of yours to take on everyone else’s problems is not a good thing.”

“These are my friends,” she said defensively. “What would you have me do?”

He sighed. “I imagine telling you to maintain a little distance would be a waste of my breath.”

She studied his expression, trying to gauge if he was actually serious. “Can you do that? Can you maintain a nice, safe distance when your friends are in trouble?”

Her question seemed to catch him off guard. “Truthfully, there are not that many people I consider friends.”

Hanna stared at him. “Surely you can’t mean that.”

“It’s true. I have business acquaintances. There are dozens of people at my law firm who are colleagues, but friends? People I’d call up just to go out and

have a drink for the fun of it? I haven’t had the time.”

“But that’s awful,” she said without thinking about her own barren social life in New York. Was she any better? “Everyone should have friends, people they can count on, people they would go the extra mile for without question.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Do you expect me to believe that there is no one important in your life?” “That’s the truth.”

“What about your mother? You said you jumped into this case because of her,” she said triumphantly. “You must care about her.”

“I don’t like to see anyone swindled. That’s why I took the case.” “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true.”

Before she could probe any deeper, they were joined by Tony, who looked more tired than she had ever seen him. Rafe looked relieved to have her attention shifting away from him and on to Tony, but she had no intention of forgetting about his admission that there was no one in his life who really mattered to him.

“Are you okay?” Hanna asked Tony.

“It’s been a busy night. That’s all,” Tony said. “Have you eaten?”

“I haven’t had the time.”

Hanna jumped up. “Then you sit right here. I’m going to fix something for all of us. And if anyone else comes in, I’ll handle it. Have a glass of wine. Talk to Rafe. Relax.”

Tony patted her hand. “You’re a good girl, Hanna mia.”

“And a better cook,” she reminded him with a grin. “I’ll make you two a meal that will make you weep.”

Rafe started to protest, but Hanna silenced him with a look. “I need to do this,” she said quietly. “It won’t take long.”

“It will take as long as it takes,” Tony chided, his expression stern. “Good food cannot be rushed.”

Hanna pressed a kiss to his pale cheek. “Advice from the master,” she teased, managing to keep a smile plastered firmly on her face as she left the two men to their wine and their conversation.

But once she reached the kitchen, she sagged against the door. Something was terribly wrong. Suddenly her own problems with Bobby, her confusion over her relationship with Rafe, none of it mattered. How sad that Rafe didn’t understand the meaning of such deep and abiding friendships.

But maybe, once she’d dealt with whatever was going on with Tony and Francesca, once Karen’s life was settled again, maybe then she could take the

time to teach him.

Rafe studied Tony’s tired face and concluded that Hanna was right to be concerned. He might not know the man well, but there was a general air of despondency about him that was unmistakable even to him.

“Hanna’s worried about you,” he said.

“And I am worried for her,” Tony responded. “The longer this business with her partner drags on, the sadder she becomes. I don’t like it. If I knew this man, I would wring his neck myself.”

“Join the club,” Rafe said, though he chafed at Tony’s evasive change of topic. Apparently, he really was lousy at this friendship thing. Surely a man with his skills at cross-examination should have been able to get a direct response. He considered his words, realized then that unlike his courtroom style, he’d made a statement, rather than asking a probing question. It seemed like he was even out of practice at being a decent lawyer.

“But I wasn’t really talking about Hanna. I was asking about you. Is everything okay?” he asked more pointedly. “Peggy said something earlier about your wife that made Hanna conclude that she might not be well.”

If anything, Tony looked even more dispirited. “Francesca grows more homesick day by day. Her only sister, who lives in Rome, is not well. Francesca wishes she were there with her, but she refuses to go back to Italy alone, and I cannot simply close the business and leave.”

“There is a solution,” Rafe said thoughtfully, hating himself for even thinking of it, much less voicing it. He needed to get back to New York one of these days, though amazingly the pressure seemed to lessen with every day he spent right here in Wyoming with Hanna. He was beginning to adapt to the slower pace and friendlier lifestyle. And except for court, he was able to keep up with most of his work. Lydia kept his fax machine humming, and what was too lengthy and complicated to be faxed she shipped overnight.