天若有情
The Return of the Bowie Bravo

  • 作   者:

    克莉丝汀·里默
    Christine Rimmer

  • 译   者:

    段然,蒲怡霖

  • 出版社:

    禾林图书股份公司

  • 语   言:

    双语

  • 支   持:

  • 电子书:

    ¥5.90

  • 8.7(3人评过)
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  •   读后感(1)

曾经相爱的一对青年,因为年少轻狂,不懂得珍惜,放手失却了宝贵的爱情,而今年华已逝,命运的齿轮再一次将他们推向彼此的身边,爱情的种子在不知不觉中悄悄发芽。这一次,他懂得了勇气、责任,明白了爱情的涵义;这一次,她选择相信命运,相信自己的心,做好准备迎接新的人生。

这一次,他们还会面临怎样的爱恨纠葛?他们的爱情之路还有多久?

她,年轻寡妇葛洛莉·罗西,从未想过,自心爱的丈夫不幸去世后便被冰霜覆盖的心房能有一天重新沐浴爱情的春光。昔日恋人的突然造访唤醒了她记忆中那段甜美的时光。面对射向她的丘比特之箭,她生怕再次经历失去爱情的痛苦,但是她的心却一次次为男友的爱意和决心所打动,这一次,她渴望一份完整的爱。

他,鲍伊·布拉沃,曾经的不羁少年,因为打架酗酒,他失去了来自恋人葛洛莉的那份温暖而珍贵的爱,偷尝禁果后,他在自责中远走他乡,最终洗心革面,闯出一番事业。再次回到她生活的地方,他希望承担起作为一个父亲的职责,补偿她对于他的那份执着深情。

曾经相爱的一对青年,因为年少轻狂,不懂得珍惜,放手失却了宝贵的爱情,而今年华已逝,命运的齿轮再一次将他们推向彼此的身边,爱情的种子在不知不觉中悄悄发芽。这一次,他懂得了勇气、责任,明白了爱情的涵义;这一次,她选择相信命运,相信自己的心,做好准备迎接新的人生。

这一次,他们还会面临怎样的爱恨纠葛?他们的爱情之路还有多久?

第一章

葛洛莉•罗西看着他走过来,就像是从暴风雪中幻化出来的一样。

那是一月中旬一个刮着大风的早晨,她站在房子前部的客厅飘窗前,望着窗外不久前才开始纷纷落下的雪。

狂风在外面的屋檐下咆哮着,将厚重洁白的雪花斜卷成旋涡状,使外面的世界看起来就像一团旋转着的白雾。除了前院里那棵光秃秃的梣叶槭,她几乎看不见远处的景物——看不见街对面横跨河面的大桥,也看不见街道另一侧的房子。她的家乡位于加利福尼亚的新伯利恒•弗拉特地区,她对自己的家乡就像对镜中自己的容貌一样熟悉,但现在这场大雪却使它变得模糊起来。她想着这座房子看起来该是多么空空荡荡,那屋檐下的风听起来该有多么孤单迷茫啊。

接着她在漫天雪白中发现有人在走动。她皱起眉,眯起眼,微微倾身,向窗户玻璃靠得更近了些。

确凿无疑,外面有个人。一个身材高大、肩膀宽阔的人影正往步道上走过来,接着这人上了门口的台阶。

葛洛莉转过身,从窗台的侧窗望出去,那里正好能看见走廊。她可以肯定那是一个男人,但却看不清他的样子。他的头缩进羽绒服里,一顶水手冬帽盖住了他的头发。

他站在她家大门前,举起一只戴着手套的手按下了门铃。

就在门铃响起的一瞬间,她明白过来了。

不会的,不可能是他。可她十分肯定那个人就是他。

鲍伊。

他好像感觉到她在看自己,于是朝着她的方向看去。她站在窗边,正用手抚摸着自己隆起的腹部,张着嘴惊讶地望着他。

*不。*

她的心在反抗。为什么是现在,在过去了这么久之后?这说不通,她一定是在做梦。

他看上去……不太一样了。坚毅的脸上皱纹比以前更深了,看上去老了一些。他确实老了,六年多过去了。

他比以前成熟稳重了,那双漂亮的蓝眼睛清澈得就像夏日无云时塞拉的天空。

做梦,是的,这一定是个梦。

她把目光从他身上移开,默数五秒后又瞟了回去。不管是不是梦,他仍站在大门前注视着她。如果她什么也不做,就这么一动不动地站在原地,任凭他按多少次门铃也绝不动弹,甚至连气都不喘……

或许这样他就会放弃,然后离开。

但她很清楚他不会这样做。在他眼里,她看见了一种陌生而冷静的果决。他决不会这么容易就转身离去。

别无他法,葛洛莉只好走过去为他开门。

在门厅里,她扶着门把手停住了,确信当她打开门时,门外除了风和雪什么也没有,他会像突然出现一样地突然消失。她可以过回她熟知的那种生活,将自己从这个清晨的忧虑中解脱出来,然后开始处理那一大堆等着她的琐事:洗洗衣服,再将碗碟放进洗碗机里。

葛洛莉打开门。

狂风携着大雪卷了进来,湿冷的雪刺痛她的脸颊。她双臂环胸,微微颤抖。

他仍然在那儿,完完全全、彻彻底底的真实。

她差点轻声啜泣起来,但她忍住了,同时高高抬起自己的下巴。他看上去不止比她记忆中更加高大强壮,也出乎意料地更……令人敬畏了。

“你好,葛洛莉。”他说。他一脸严肃地问候她,声音如以往一样,只是更加深沉、更加厚重了。

一阵战栗席卷了她,而这与寒冷的天气无关。

她的心再度反抗。这不对,这不公平,在这么多年过去、发生了这么多事情之后,在她亲爱的马特奥让她知道什么是平和与幸福之后……

这样是不对的。但很明显,对或不对并没有太大关系。

他从她的生活中消失已有六年半之久,但此刻葛洛莉注视着鲍伊•布拉沃,知道自己对他仍有感情。尽管她怀着亡夫未出世的孩子,腹部已如谷仓般隆起,可她仍然爱着他。

在那一瞬间,她鄙视自己,也鄙视他。

“我可以进去吗?”他冷静地、几近严肃地问道。他看上去与她从前熟识的那个既疯狂又野性的男人大相径庭。

她真想直接把他关在门外。

但那样又有什么用呢?既然他已经来了,无论如何都得应对他。

她向后退了一步。他一边步入门槛,一边脱下他的水手冬帽。她看见他已经剪去了长长的金色头发,现在是紧贴着头皮的短发。

他摘下手套,脱下羽绒服。他里面穿着一件有些褪色的格子衬衫,袖子卷起,露出他满是青筋的小臂。他的牛仔裤也同样是旧旧的。“约翰尼在哪儿?”他一边将手套塞进羽绒服的口袋里,一边问道。

她的心跳加快。难道她现在要为争夺约翰尼的抚养权而战斗了吗?难道这就是他突然造访的目的吗?“他在学校。”

“在这样的暴雪天也要上学?”

噢,拜托。这会儿他才突然关心起约翰尼来了吗?这可真有心。“暴风雪应该到下午不久就会停。”

“现在外面暴风雪特别大。”

“嗯,是的。如果学校决定放假,他们会来电通知的。而且,翠丝特会去接这些孩子们。”翠丝特是葛洛莉八个兄弟姐妹中的老二。“她那四轮驱动的汽车装了结实的雪地轮胎。”葛洛莉接过他的帽子和羽绒服,将它们挂在楼梯脚边的衣帽架上。然后她不大情愿地问:“要来一点儿咖啡吗?”

“好啊。”

她领他穿过位于大厅后部的房门,来到后面的厨房,然后指了指角落里的早餐桌。“请坐。”他坐了下来,她迅速将咖啡豆装进咖啡机里。“几分钟就好。”

“好的。”

Chapter One

Glory Rossi saw him coming. He seemed to materialize out of the storm.

It was a blustery Monday morning in mid-January and she stood at the bay window in the family room at the front of the house. She stared out at the snow that had started coming down only a little while ago.

The wind whistled under the eaves outside, catching the thick, white flakes and carrying them sideways in drifts and eddies, so the world out there was a whirling fog of white. She couldn’t see much beyond the bare box elder tree in the front yard—not the bridge across the street that spanned the river, not the houses on the other side. She knew her hometown of New Bethlehem Flat, California, like she knew her own face in the mirror, but the snow obscured it now. She thought how empty the house seemed, how lonely and lost the wind sounded as it sang under the eaves.

And then she caught a hint of movement within the white. She frowned. Squinting, she leaned closer to the glass.

No doubt about it. There was someone out there, a tall, broad-shouldered figure coming up the front walk. The figure mounted the steps.

Glory turned to look out the side window in the bay. It gave a view of the porch. A man, definitely. She couldn’t see his face. His head was hunched into his down jacket and a watch cap covered his hair.

He stood at her front door and raised a gloved hand to ring the bell.

And right then, as the doorbell chimed, she *knew.*

It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. And yet, she was absolutely certain.

*Bowie.*

As if he felt her watching him, he turned her way. And he saw her, standing there at the window, her hand on the hard, round bulge of her belly, staring at him with her mouth hanging open.

*No.*

Her mind rebelled. Why now, after all this time? It made no sense. She must be dreaming.

He looked…different, the hard planes of his face more sculpted than before. He looked older. Which he was. By more than six years.

Older *and* sober. The gorgeous blue eyes were clear as the Sierra sky on a cloudless summer day.

Dreaming. Yeah. This had to be a dream.

She looked away from him, counted to five and then glanced back. Dream or not, he was still out there at the front door, watching her. Maybe if she did nothing, if she just stood there, frozen, refusing to move or even breathe no matter how many times he rang the bell…

Maybe he would give up and go away.

But she knew he wouldn’t. In his eyes she saw a strange, calm determination. He wasn’t going to simply turn and leave.

Seeing no other choice, Glory went to let him in.

In the foyer, she paused with her hand on the doorknob, certain that when she pulled open the door, there would be nothing on the other side but wind and snow. He would have vanished as suddenly as he’d appeared. She could return to her life as she had come to know it, could snap herself out of the funk that had gripped her that morning, and go about the mundane tasks that waited for her: doing the laundry and loading the dishes into the dishwasher.

Glory opened the door.

Snow blew in on a gust of wind, stinging her cheeks with icy wetness. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.

He was still there. He was absolutely, without-a-doubt real.

A soft cry tried to slip out of her throat. She swallowed it down and hitched her chin high. Beyond seeming taller and broader than she remembered, he also struck her as more…formidable, somehow.

“Hello, Glory,” he said. He regarded her solemnly. His voice was the same, only deeper, richer.

A shiver went through her. It wasn’t because of the cold.

Her heart rebelled. It wasn’t right. Wasn’t fair. After everything. All these years. After her sweet Matteo, who had shown her what peace and happiness could be…

It wasn’t right. But apparently, rightness had nothing to do with it.

Six and a half years since he’d vanished from her life, Glory gazed up at Bowie Bravo and she knew that she still felt it for him. Even big as a barn with her lost husband’s unborn child, she still had that *thing* for him.

She despised herself at that moment. And him, too.

“Are you going to let me in?” He asked it calmly. Gravely, almost. He seemed so different from the crazy wild man she used to know.

She considered simply closing the door in his face.

But what good would that do? In the end, since he had come, he would have to be dealt with.

She stepped back. He took off the watch cap as he crossed her threshold and she saw he’d cut his long blond hair. He wore it cropped close to his head now.

He removed his gloves and shrugged out of the down jacket. Underneath the jacket, he wore a faded chambray shirt with the sleeves rolled to reveal his corded forearms. His jeans were faded, too. “Where’s Johnny?” he asked, sticking the gloves in a pocket of the jacket.

Her heart rate accelerated. Was she in for a custody battle? Was that what this sudden, out-of-the-blue visit meant? “He’s in school.”

“In this storm?”

Oh, please. Suddenly he was worried about Johnny? That was rich. “It’s supposed to blow off by early afternoon.”

“It’s pretty wild out there.”

“Yeah, well. The school will call if they decide to close. Besides, it’s Trista’s turn to pick up the kids.” Trista was second-born of Glory’s eight siblings. “She has four-wheel drive and some serious snow tires.” Glory took his hat and jacket and hooked them on the coat tree at the foot of the stairs. Then, reluctantly, she offered, “You want some coffee?”

“Sure.”

She led him through the door at the rear of the hall, into the kitchen in back, where she gestured at the table in the breakfast nook. “Have a seat.” He sat down and she made quick work of loading up the coffeemaker. “It’ll be a few minutes.”

“Fine.”

  • 第一章

  • 第二章

  • 第三章

  • 第四章

  • 第五章

  • 第六章

  • 第七章

  • 第八章

  • 第九章

  • 第十章

  • 第十一章

  • 第十二章

  • 第十三章

  • Chapter One

  • Chapter Two

  • Chapter Three

  • Chapter Four

  • Chapter Five

  • Chapter Six

  • Chapter Seven

  • Chapter Eight

  • Chapter Nine

  • Chapter Ten

  • Chapter Eleven

  • Chapter Twelve

  • Chapter Thirteen

  • 爱情杂谈

    在我们到了一定年纪之后,我们都有寻找爱情的愿望,并且都认为这就是自己幸福的起点。在一番苦苦寻觅之后,我们发现爱情其实是一个奢侈品,并不是每个人都能够找到爱情。因此我们要告诫自己,能够得到爱情,固然可喜;即便得不到,其实也并没失去什么。在芸芸众生中,很多人其实只是在为一些必需品而奋斗,但他们当中依然有幸福的人——很多……展开↓