Arthur showed them through the various rooms on the ground floor then all the rooms on the second and third floors. Taking them down the back stairs, their tour ended in the huge kitchen where a sweet-faced woman with flaming red hair greeted them.
“This is my wife, Shea. She keeps the inside of the house shining like a new penny,” Arthur bragged, resting a gentle hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Shea, love, this is Aundy’s sister, Ilsa Thorsen.”
“‘Tis a pleasure to meet ye, miss. Aundy is full of tales about some slip of a girl bearing a beauty rare and wondrous to behold. I see for meself they weren’t tales at all, but the glorious truth. What a lovely thing ye be.” Shea gave Ilsa an affectionate hug.
Immediately liking the lively woman and the lyrical way she spoke with an Irish brogue, Ilsa smiled broadly.
“The house is lovely, but it seems so empty. Do you live here?” Ilsa asked.
“We do. We have a room right off the kitchen,” Arthur said, pointing down a narrow hall. “Garrett says someday this big monstrosity of a house will come to life with the right family living here. For now, we take care of it and pray whoever is meant to live here will find their way to Dogwood Corners.”
“Would ye care for a bit of refreshment?” Shea offered, moving to take glasses down from a cupboard.
“No, thank you, Shea. I believe we’re both still quite full from our picnic, but thanks to you both for allowing us to visit Dogwood Corners today,” Tony said, subtly edging Ilsa toward the kitchen door.
“Ye’re welcome anytime, Tony, and so ye know it.” Shea gave him a friendly smile. “Don’t be a stranger. Either one of ye.”
“We won’t.” Tony opened the door then turned to shake Arthur’s hand. “Enjoy the rest of your Sunday afternoon.”
“Take care, Tony, and behave yourself,” Arthur said with a chuckle then turned his mirthful gaze to Ilsa. “Keep this young man on his toes.”
“Yes, sir. It was so nice to meet you both.” Ilsa waved at the couple as Tony guided her down the back steps and across the lawn to their picnic spot. Ilsa pinned on her hat then retrieved her gloves and fan while Tony picked up his discarded jacket and tie. After folding the quilt, he offered his arm to escort her back to the buggy.
“They seem like a lovely couple,” Ilsa commented as Tony set the quilt in the back then helped her into the buggy.
“They are lovely, and a lot of fun,” Tony said, hurrying around the buggy and picking up the reins. He released the brake then waved over his head at Arthur and Shea as they watched from the front steps.
“Her brogue sounds like music when she speaks.” Ilsa wondered if Tony had any Irish friends. She’d heard the Irish and Italians in New York didn’t always get along well.
“For sure and certain, lassie.” Tony affected his own take on the Irish accent, making Ilsa giggle as he guided the horse down the dogwood-lined lane and back to the road toward Nash’s Folly.
“Thank you for the picnic, Tony. It was one of the nicest afternoons I’ve had since arriving here in Pendleton,” Ilsa said, relaxing against the buggy seat and watching the passing scenery.
“I’m happy to be of service and glad you enjoyed the outing. Perhaps you’d be willing to do it again sometime.”
“Perhaps.” Ilsa thought it would take a force of nature to keep her from going anywhere Tony asked. He was funny and sweet, and so handsome. She couldn’t ever remember being so interested in a man before, and Tony was definitely all man.
Before they deviated toward inappropriate topics, she gathered her thoughts and asked Tony about his ice business, his family, and even his horse.
By the time they arrived at Nash’s Folly, she knew about his brothers, their wives, and their children.
He helped Ilsa down from the buggy and walked her up the porch steps. The front door swung open and Garrett invited him inside.
Not ready to say goodbye to the girl he’d spent all day wanting to kiss, he accepted the offer to stay for dinner.
After the dishes and the chores were completed, they sat outside beneath the cottonwood tree where the evening breeze offered a bit of cool refreshment against the heat that still lingered.
Nik and a few of the hands wandered over and sat around, sharing stories that kept them all entertained.
The boy pulled his harmonica from his pocket and began to play, offering both lively and slow tunes. He finally turned to look at Ilsa. “Will you sing for us?”
“I don’t think so,” Ilsa said, embarrassed as all eyes turned her direction.
“Please?” Nik asked with a pleading look in his big brown eyes.
Ilsa finally nodded her head in agreement. “But only if you play along.”
“Okay,” Nik said brightly, launching into a fast tempo song. Ilsa sang the words and on a few songs, Garrett joined in.
“That was wonderful.” Aundy clapped her hands. “We’ll have to do this more often.”
“It was fun,” Ilsa agreed, trying not to look at Tony as his hand crept over to cover hers, hidden by the folds of her skirt.
“Will you sing just one more?” Nik asked, stuffing the harmonica in his pocket.
“One more, but then I’m going in the house.” Ilsa tried to decide what song to sing and settled on one that gained popularity when it debuted the previous year. The first time she heard the song, it made her think of her situation with her aunt and Delmon. She’d often sang it while she was trapped in her room at Louisa’s house.
As Ilsa sang the story about a girl who was A Bird in a Gilded Cage, she poured her heart into the music.
She’s only a bird in a gilded cage,
A beautiful sight to see,
You may think she’s happy and free from care,
She’s not though she seems to be…
Stunned by the lyrics of the song, Tony sat perfectly still,. He greatly enjoyed hearing Ilsa sing. She had a lovely voice and her face lit up when she sang.
This song, though, was different. A haunting sadness clung to her and somehow he knew Ilsa felt like that girl in the song, like she was trapped in a cage. He didn’t know why she felt that way, but something about how she sang made it clear she did.
Caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t realize she’d finished singing.
Aundy wiped teary eyes on her apron before getting up and giving Ilsa a hug. She must have sensed that feeling about Ilsa, too.
“I think it’s time for us all to call it a night,” Garrett said, gently touching Aundy on the shoulder before she ushered Ilsa toward the house. He held his hand out to Tony. “Glad you could join us this evening. Hope you and Ilsa had a nice afternoon.”
“We did. I took her out to Dogwood Corners for a picnic,” Tony said, walking toward the buggy where Giacomo waited to go back to town so he could be relieved of his harness.
“You said that’s where you planned to go. Did you see Arthur and Shea?”
“We did. Ilsa seemed genuinely pleased to meet them.” Tony stopped at the buggy and leaned against the side. “She wasn’t, however, quite so pleased to discover Aundy never told her about Ashton or Dogwood Corners.”
“I see.” Garrett appeared caught off guard for a moment. “Ilsa didn’t know anything about the kidnapping or our ownership of the place?”
“Not a bit of it. I suggested she get the story from Aundy but she insisted I tell her what I knew. You might want to have Aundy fill in the rest of the details. Ilsa seemed quite disturbed Aundy didn’t share the information with her when it happened.”
“I can only assume she was trying to protect Ilsa. She worries about her,” Garrett said, then leaned forward and thumped Tony on the shoulder. “Thanks for letting me know. We’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks for dinner and a nice evening, and letting me steal Ilsa this afternoon. If you need ice, just let me know.” Tony stepped into the buggy and picked up the reins.
As the horse headed back to town, he remained lost in his thoughts of Ilsa and the haunting sound of
her voice.
Chapter Twelve
“It’s perfect! Absolutely perfect!”
Ilsa stood with her hands clasped beneath her chin, envisioning shelves of cloth along the wall and her sewing machine sitting in front of the sunny side window. She could picture a long counter for cutting cloth and a display of her latest creations in the big window out front.
“I want it,” she said, turning to glance at Aundy and Garrett as they stood at the door with Grant Hill, their banker.
He offered to show them a property the bank had taken into possession when the previous owner failed to repay their loan, even after numerous extensions. As soon as Ilsa walked in the door, she knew it was the perfect place for her shop.
“There is a small living area upstairs,” Grant said, walking across the front of the shop, motioning for the rest of them to follow him to the workroom. At the back of it, a narrow staircase led up to a second floor.
As he opened the door to the living quarters, Ilsa barely noticed the sitting room, small kitchen area, or bedroom. Her thoughts raced around the idea of finally opening her own fashion boutique.
“The furniture, of course, is included,” Grant said, pointing to a round table and chairs in the kitchen, and a newer looking parlor set in the sitting room.
Ilsa nodded her head then hurried back down the stairs, looking around what would be her workroom and an area to do fittings. It offered plenty of space for what she would need.
Her hopeful look at Aundy and Garrett as they walked down the stairs conveyed her desire to own the shop. It was just a block down the street from Caterina’s restaurant and Tony’s business was a few blocks away. There wasn’t any reason Garrett or Aundy could find fault with the space or the price. It was less than she had expected to pay for a space half as adequate.
“Can you give us a moment to mull it over, Grant? We can meet you back at the bank,” Garrett said, shaking the man’s hand and waiting until he walked outside and closed the door before turning to Ilsa.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, walking around the front room filled with morning sunshine. “You can stay with us as long as you like. There’s no need to rush into anything.”
“I know, Garrett, and I appreciate your kindness.” Ilsa smiled at her brother-in-law. “I’ve been at your place more than a month now, and I’m ready to get back to what I do the best. I’ve always wanted to have my own shop and this is my opportunity to make it happen. Please, let me at least try.”
Garrett looked at Aundy and she nodded her head then put an arm around Ilsa. “We’ll loan you the money to buy the store. You can pay us back once you get your feet under you.”
“I don’t need to borrow your money,” Ilsa said, surprising them both. “I’ve got enough to buy the building and get things started. I really want to do this on my own.”
“Where did you get the money?” Garrett asked, shocked by her statement.
“Aundy probably told you, I ran a side business while I worked for Louisa making exclusive gowns for her most elite clients. They paid extremely well for my original designs, until Louisa found out and put me out of business,” Ilsa said, standing in a ray of sunshine, enjoying both the light and warmth it provided. “I made enough during that time to fund my own business.”
“Then why did you stay with her? Why didn’t you leave?” Garrett asked, glancing from Aundy to Ilsa. He and Aundy often discussed that very question.
“I was afraid to. Henri has friends at the station so I couldn’t take a train out of the city and I had no idea where I’d go or how to get anywhere else. I know I should have done something, but I let fear hold me captive every bit as much as Louisa ever did.”
“That’s all behind you now, Ilsa.” Aundy hugged her sister. “From now on, you can determine your future on your own.”
“Then let’s go see about buying this shop,” Ilsa said, tugging on Aundy’s hand and hurrying out the door.
“To Ilsa,” Kade said, holding up a glass of lemonade in toast as he and Caterina hosted Garrett, Aundy, Ilsa, J.B., Nora, Nik, and Tony at the restaurant. Closed to the public on Monday nights, Caterina invited their friends for a special dinner to celebrate Ilsa’s soon-to-open fashion boutique.
“To Ilsa,” the rest of the group echoed.
In the past week, Ilsa hired a carpenter to build shelves and a large worktable for her shop. She ordered a new bed for the living quarters along with mirrors for her fitting area and a big cherrywood-framed cheval mirror for the front of the store. Contacting a supplier her aunt used in the past, she ordered dress forms and display items.
“To all of you,” Ilsa said, looking around the room. “You’ve truly been wonderful in helping make my dream for a shop become a reality.”
Garrett was the one who helped her find a trustworthy carpenter. Nora helped her decide what bed and linens to order while Aundy assisted with selections for display items.
As soon as the carpenter finished installing the shelves and worktable, Caterina, Aundy, and Nora promised to help her clean the space from top to bottom.
In the meantime, she began working on an elaborate day gown to send to her favorite client back in Chicago. Her hope was that if the woman liked her work, she’d not only continue to have Ilsa design and construct her wardrobe, but also make recommendations to her many friends.
Ilsa had plenty of sample gowns to put on display for now and planned to make outfits that would go along with each season. She knew she had a piece of beautiful deep green velvet in one of her trunks that would make an eye-catching display for Christmas.
Lost in her thoughts, she turned her attention back to those gathered at Caterina’s restaurant and took a bite of the delicious meal. Although she loved the Norwegian dishes she’d grown up eating, she didn’t think it would take much for her to love Italian food every bit as much. The entrée Caterina made with tender bites of pasta and flavorful sausage surrounded by a creamy sauce tasted wonderful, even if Ilsa couldn’t pronounce it. Sliced tomatoes drizzled with vinegar and herbs and warm, fragrant bread completed the meal.
For dessert, Aundy helped Caterina serve apple pie, made with summer apples from Nash’s Folly, along with ice cream.
Ilsa smiled as Tony enthusiastically begged for a second piece of the pie. The other men wanted seconds as well, so Ilsa helped serve it while Caterina made coffee.
“That was delicious as always, Caterina. Thank you for having us,” J.B. said, putting a hand to his full stomach. “I might need to walk home to work some of this off.”
“You and me both.” Nora laughed as she squeezed her husband’s hand. Turning to Ilsa, she gave her an encouraging look. “When do you plan to have your official opening?”
“I’d like to hold it the second week of September. I know that’s coming up soon, but once I get all my trunks unpacked, I’ll be ready to welcome clients.”
“Did the book of samples you ordered arrive yet, honey?” Nora asked. Ilsa had been anxiously awaiting a book with samples of cloth to arrive from a supplier back east.
“Yes, it came today and I’m so excited. There are so many wonderful new fabrics available, I’m going to have a hard time choosing what to order,” Ilsa said, feeling content and happy as she sat with her family and friends.
“I’d love to see it.”
“I’ll run down to the store and get it.” Ilsa rose and turned toward the door. Tony tossed his napkin down and started to follow her. She saw his half-eaten pie along with the pool of quickly melting ice cream and waved him back to his seat. “Finish your pie. I’ll just be a minute.”
He gave her a wary glance but resumed his seat and picked up his fork.
“Don’t forget, you promised to sing later,” Nik said, as she rushed out the back door.
“I didn’t forget, Nik,” she called, letting the screen slap shut behind her.
Her thoughts lingered on Tony as she hurried past the alley and down the row of buildings toward her shop’s back
door. He’d been extremely helpful since she purchased her shop. He assisted her with plans of where to place the counter and shelves, set up her sewing machine, and offered the use of his strong arms and back when she was ready to start moving in.
Lost in her visions of his teasing smile and warm amber-colored eyes, she never heard the footsteps behind her until a hand grabbed her around the waist while the other covered her mouth. Unable to scream or run, Ilsa recognized a scent she hoped she’d never smell again in her lifetime.
Dragged into the alley, her assailant shifted to pin her against the wall of the building with his body. Glancing into the hard, cold eyes of her former fiancé, Ilsa fought the urge to be ill. He was every bit as awful as she remembered.
“Don’t you look happy and content with life, my dear little one,” Delmon said, leering at her as he attempted to bind her hands with a length of rope while still keeping one of his over her mouth. “I’ve watched you the past few days, flitting around with your friends, acting like someone important. You’re not, you know. You’re nobody, especially without my social ties to give your pathetic little life any credibility.”
Ilsa tried to hide the hurt his words brought her and glared at him defiantly.
“Oh, I know your sister is married to one of the wealthy ranchers in the area and you have friends in the local law enforcement. I even know you’re sweet on that idiot Italian who goes door to door peddling ice.”
Delmon shifted his hand and Ilsa used the opportunity to bite the tender skin of his palm. He jerked his hand away, slapped her cheek, and stared at her.
“What do you want, Delmon? I won’t marry you. Not ever.” Ilsa wanted to spit the taste of him out of her mouth.
To her surprise, Delmon laughed. “Oh, I’m not here to marry you, little one. Not at all. I found a replacement for you much better suited to be my wife. She has breeding and class and…”
“Not a brain in her head, if she’s willing to become your bride.”
Ilsa (Pendleton Petticoats Book 3) Page 13