Chapter 17

“I wish you didn’t have to leave,” Mama told Isabella. They were awaiting Orlando’s arrival that early Monday morning, and emotions were high.

“I know, Mama, but it must be this way. Hopefully everything will be worked out soon and God will help Mr. Calarco to put aside his anger and forgive us.”

Chantel finished packing a basket the young couple would take with them on the train. “There’s enough food here for a small army,” she told her sister.

“That’s good,” Isabella countered. “Orlando can eat like a small army.” She hurried to the window for the sixth time in as many minutes. “Where is he? The train will be here soon, and we must be on it.”

“Don’t worry,” Chantel said, coming up behind her. Mama joined them at the window to keep vigil.

“But there is no other way to get to Duluth,” Isabella fretted, “other than sleigh or dog sled—and we have access to neither. We have to make the train and do it today. We need as much time as possible to distance ourselves from Ely before his father returns.”

“You know we will do what we can to keep him from discovering where you’ve gone,” Chantel said, taking hold of Isabella’s shoulders from behind. Isabella reached up to clasp Chantel’s right hand. Her fingers felt icy.

Finally the women wearied of standing at the frosty window and made their way into the front sitting room, where Isabella’s suitcase awaited.

“I wish I could have taken a trunk,” she said, looking sadly at the single case, “but Orlando said we needed to be able to move quickly.”

“We can send you whatever you leave behind,” Mama promised, her accent thick with emotion. “When you get settled, we will ship all your things.”

Isabella nodded and paced in front of the fireplace. “He should be here by now. Something must have happened. Maybe Dante wouldn’t let him leave.”

“I thought you said he was going to go to work with Dante as if nothing was amiss, and then slip away,” Chantel said.

“Yes, but they work together so much of the time—as a team,” Isabella added. “He might have found it difficult to get away from him.”

“I suppose that is possible. It would explain the delay. But maybe he wanted to wait until the last minute so that Dante wouldn’t have time to realize he was gone. With the depot so close to the mine, it might be difficult for Orlando to time things properly.”

“He still needs to get back to the house and get his things. Then he will come here for me and—”

A knock sounded against the front door. Isabella rushed for the foyer. “He’s here!”

Chantel and her mother followed and were relieved to find Isabella had been right. The couple embraced for just a moment before Orlando put Isabella aside.

“We need to go quickly. The captain put me to work in one of the other shafts, so Dante won’t miss me for a while. But the train will depart soon.”

“I’m ready,” Isabella said, hurrying into her coat. She pulled on her gloves and looked to her sister. “Chantel, would you get my bonnet and suitcase?”

Chantel nodded and went to retrieve the things. She tried not to feel overly anxious for the young couple. It would be difficult for them to make their escape, but not impossible. Especially if God was truly in this, as Chantel believed He was.

“Here you are,” Chantel said, handing her sister the bonnet. She held on to the suitcase and waited for Isabella to secure her hat. To her surprise, Orlando took the case and then hugged her.

“Thank you for your help. I will repay you as soon as I can.”

“It’s a wedding gift,” Chantel declared. “No need to repay anything.”

Orlando shook his head. “I can’t let you do that. It wouldn’t be right to start my married life that way.” He looked to Mama. “I intend to do right by Isabella. I told your husband the same thing when he gave me his blessing to marry her. I will work hard, and I will love her forever.”

“That is all any mama could hope for,” she said, giving Orlando a kiss on the cheek. “Stay close to God, Orlando. If you draw near to Him and Issy does likewise, you will find that you draw closer to each other, as well.”

He nodded and turned to his wife-to-be. “Come on. We need to go.”

“Oh, the basket of food!” Chantel said and hurried to the table. She brought back the goodies, and Orlando took those, as well. He smiled and nodded his appreciation.

“I’ll be outside,” he told Isabella.

Chantel kissed her sister and whispered against her bonneted head, “I love you, and I will do what I can to make things work out here.”

Isabella pulled away and smiled. “If anyone can find a way to fix things, it’s you, Chantel. Just don’t worry for us. We’ll be fine.”

She hugged her mother and then hurried out the door after Orlando. Without another word or look, the couple disappeared around the corner. Chantel stood in the open doorway with her mother and watched the empty street for a moment longer. When the cold finally forced them back inside, the house seemed very empty.

Chantel looked at her mother and saw that she was crying. “Oh, Mama, they will be all right,” she said, hugging her mother close.

Her mother reverted to Italian once again. “I know, but I wish they didn’t have to run away like this. Isabella could have married in the church with a fine wedding. It’s a mama’s heart to desire such things for her children.”

“Maybe one day Mr. Calarco will realize that this is a good thing, and we can at least have a party for them.”

Mama nodded. “Maybe.”

Evening came and with it the men returned from their hard labors. They had taken time to clean their hands and faces at the company washhouse, but their clothes were still filthy. Chantel didn’t cherish the thought of having to do all the laundry without her sister’s help. Winter always made such chores much harder, although the heat from the cauldron fire was far more welcomed. Mama would offer to help, but Chantel knew she would have enough of her own work to tend to, what with the ironing and mending that would need to be done.

“Have they gone?” Papa asked.

Mama gave a sad smile. “Yes. They left in time to catch the train. Since I’ve not heard anything to the contrary, I believe they must have made it.”

Papa nodded. “I hope they will be careful.”

“Come, we will have supper,” Mama said. “Chantel, she made a wonderful meal for us. Let’s eat it now.”

They made their way to the table, where Chantel had already placed a massive serving bowl of meatballs. Another large dish of baked pasta and vegetables sat at the opposite end of the table with two large loaves of bread gracing either side. It looked like more food than the small family could possibly need, but Chantel knew her brothers and father would most likely eat every last morsel and still have room for dessert.

Papa offered a prayer, and then the five of them dug into the meal. They all seemed painfully aware of the empty sixth chair at the table. Isabella’s vivacious spirit was hard not to miss.

Don’t be such a ninny. She’s not dead and gone forever. We will see her again.

They were nearly ready for dessert when a loud banging sounded on the front door. Mama and Papa exchanged a look. They all knew that this moment would come. Dante Calarco would know to look for his missing brother here.

Chantel was surprised it had taken this long. She rose to answer the door, but her father shook his head. “Marco will get it.”

Marco nodded and went to the door. Chantel could hear Dante rage at her brother, demanding to know where Orlando was. It was only a matter of minutes before he stormed into the room searching the table for Orlando.

“Welcome back, Dante,” Mama said as sweetly as if he were there for a Sunday visit. “We were about to have dessert, but if you haven’t eaten supper yet, you’re welcome to join us.”

Dante calmed at her words. “No thank you. Nonna has a meal waiting for me. I came for my brother.”

“As you can see,” Papa said, “he isn’t here.”

That seemed to momentarily stupefy Dante. He seemed to consider the situation before posing his next question. “Where are they?”

“I presume you mean your brother and Isabella,” Papa replied. “Have a seat, and I will try to explain.”

Dante shook his head. “I don’t want to sit down. Just tell me where they are so I can fetch him home. My father gave me charge to keep Orlando in line. I was afraid something like this might happen. I knew I couldn’t trust him to stay away from here.”

“Be that as it may,” Papa said in a collected manner, “I have not yet had my dessert and would very much like to enjoy it before speaking further on this.” He looked to Chantel. “Will you serve us?”

“Sí, Papa,” she said, getting to her feet. She looked to Dante. “Are you sure you won’t join us? I’ve made stuffed peaches again, and there is more than enough.”

Dante looked at her for a long moment. “I can’t. I need to get back. When Orlando shows up, tell him to come home straightaway.”

“We will,” Papa replied.

Chantel knew it wasn’t an outright lie, but it almost felt like one. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for Dante. He walked from the room in such a dejected manner that she very nearly ran after him to explain. Instead, she went to retrieve the peaches.

The evening wore on, but instead of feeling any better about the situation, Chantel only felt the tension build. She could imagine Dante sitting in his house, watching and waiting for a brother who would never show up. She hoped that Orlando had explained the situation to Nonna Barbato. The old woman would be supportive of the elopement, Chantel knew, and perhaps in time she could even help Dante and his father to understand.

Eventually, her father and brothers took themselves to bed and Mama kissed Chantel on the forehead. “I believe I will retire, as well. We’ve a busy day tomorrow.”

“I won’t be long,” Chantel said. “I just want to finish this handkerchief.” She had been sewing tatted lace to the edges of a linen cloth. She wanted to send more to Aunt Marilla to sell in Duluth.

“Just don’t strain your eyes,” Mama implored. “The light is not very good.”

“It’s enough for this. I won’t be very much longer, anyway.” Mama nodded and left without another word.

The house settled into silence, with only the crackling of the logs on the fire echoing through the room. Chantel didn’t bother to hurry her stitches, though she knew the next morning would come far too soon. She dreaded going to her empty bedroom. Without Isabella there, it would seem so lonely.

Chantel thought of her sister embarking on a new life. Isabella had found a mate, a partner with whom she could share the joys and burdens of this world. Chantel, in comparison, now found her own life rather empty. She had no one but Mama and Papa . . . and they wouldn’t live forever.

Tears began to stream down Chantel’s cheeks and a sob broke from her throat. She put aside the handkerchief for fear of marring it with her tears. Burying her face in her hands, she began to cry in earnest. Loneliness gripped her heart.

When the knock sounded this time on the front door, it wasn’t as heavy- handed as before. Chantel couldn’t imagine who it might be. It was well past time for visitors, and her family had already gone to bed. Nevertheless, she did her best to stifle her emotions and went to see who it was. She dried her eyes on the hem of her apron, but knew she couldn’t hide her red eyes.

When she opened the door to find Dante Calarco standing silently on the other side, Chantel could no longer contain her feelings. He looks just as miserable as I feel. Like he’s lost something valuable—something precious. Without thinking of the repercussions, she burst into tears once again and fell into his arms.

———

Dante stood holding the sobbing woman—his enemy—his heart. He couldn’t bear that she was so upset, and yet he didn’t know what he could say that wouldn’t add to her pain. He’d come here looking for answers. Looking for his brother. Instead he found his mixed emotions only further complicated by Chantel’s heartbreak.

For several minutes he did nothing but hold her, cherishing the feel of her warm body next to his. The cold of the Minnesota winter was at his back, but the heat of the woman he’d come to love was making him forget who he was and why he was there.

Without meaning to, Dante buried his fingers in her hair and raised her damp face to meet his. Then, knowing he shouldn’t, Dante lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her with all the pent-up longing he felt. She didn’t resist, but returned the kiss with an ardor to match his own. Then, without a word, they broke apart and stood staring at each other.

Chantel had stopped crying, but now looked terrified at what they’d just done. She touched her fingers to her lips, which only served to make Dante want to kiss her again. He stood his ground, however, and did nothing.

“I thought I heard a knock,” Papa said, coming up behind Chantel.

Dante forced himself to look away from her and greet Mr. Panetta instead. “Sorry to bother you again, but Orlando hasn’t returned. I can see he isn’t here.”

“Son, I think you know that they’re gone,” Papa declared. “They’ve gone to get married and leave this place for good. I’m sorry if that causes you grief or makes it difficult for your papa, but that’s just the way it is.”

He put his arm around Chantel’s shoulders. “Go on to bed, daughter.”

“Sí, Papa,” she murmured, leaving the two men alone.

Dante shook his head. “My father will disown him and make it impossible for him to get work around here.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. I don’t think they will stay anywhere near here,” Papa replied. “And who would want them to under the circumstances? It’s never easy to live with bitterness and hatred.”

Dante considered Panetta’s words for a moment, then shook his head again. “My father is a hard man, and he won’t easily let this matter go unpunished—even if he has to seek out Orlando in order to deliver his retribution. I need to find my brother before my father returns.”

“Son, I don’t know if you’re a God-fearing young man, but I have to believe you are. Your nonna would not have let such matters be void in your life.”

“I believe in God,” Dante replied, not at all certain why he felt the need to answer.

“Good. Because I want to share something with you that I’ve only told a couple of people. One was Father Buh, and the other was my dear wife.” He motioned to the front room. “Come. I want to tell you about what happened to me when the mine collapsed and trapped me.”

Dante followed, but he had no interest in the older man’s story. “Just tell me where they’ve gone . . . please.”

Mr. Panetta turned. “I don’t honestly know exactly where they’ve gone. What I do know is that you cannot stop them from marrying, and once they are man and wife, you cannot interfere with what God has joined.”

Dante felt the hopelessness of the situation. “Then I suppose I should go.”

“Go where, son?”

“To search for my brother. I’ll have just a few days before my father returns. I have to find him before then.”

“But I’ve already told you—you cannot stop this marriage.”

Dante nodded. “But if my father learns the truth, I’m afraid he will.”

“He cannot. The priest would not allow it. Your papa won’t be able to annul it.”

“I’m afraid you don’t understand, Mr. Panetta. If my father finds out about this marriage, he will put an end to it—because he will put an end to Orlando’s life.”