“It was very nice to meet you, Rebecca.” Ilsa moved toward Tony where he stood at the door. “Thank you for meeting with me today.”
“Come anytime. Tony is a good boy. Only one better is my son.” Rebecca laughed then waved at them as they stepped back outside into the warm afternoon sunshine.
Remaining quiet until Tony had the horse headed back toward town, Ilsa let out a deep sigh. “I think that went well.”
“I told you she’d like you.” Tony bumped his leg against Ilsa’s and she grinned. “You should listen to me more often.”
“Really?” Ilsa asked, offering him a sassy smile. “Like when you told me Peaches would love to have a bath and I should put him in a bucket of soapy water. Or maybe when you assured me Marvin Tooley prefers to be referred to as Uncle Grumpy? Or was it the time you said Ike wouldn’t eat meat and it was safe to offer him the ham Aundy brought me? Are those the times I should be listening to you?”
Tony chuckled. “Definitely.”
Ilsa wrapped her hands around his arm and squeezed, working to ignore the jolt that ran from her fingertips to the very center of her being at the feel of his incredible muscles beneath her fingers. “I’m glad I listened to you about today. Thank you for introducing me to Rebecca.”
“You’re most welcome.” Tony gazed down into her beautiful blue eyes. He wanted to fall in their depths and never come out. “I’m sorry about your necklace, though. I should have remembered to tell you to bring a gift.”
“That necklace wasn’t important. It was something I received from friends when I was in school. I’m glad she didn’t insist on my bracelet. I can’t part with it.”
“You said it was a gift from your father to your mother. Was it for a special occasion?”
“He bought it for her when I was born,” Ilsa said, holding out her arm and admiring the way the sun shone on the intricate gold links set with pearls.
“I’d say that makes it extra special.”
The smile Ilsa gave Tony made his temperature spike and he scrambled to think of something to distract his thoughts from how much he wanted to hold and kiss her.
“Want to join me for a soda or a dish of ice cream at the drug store?”
“You knew I wouldn’t say no to that.” Ilsa grinned and squeezed his arm again. “Do you think they still have any mountain huckleberries? Those were so good in the ice cream last time.”
Tony had taken Ilsa to the drug store a few times since she’d moved to town. The store boasted a marble soda fountain as well as an expert ice cream maker who used local fruit to enhance the flavor of his frozen confections. The last time they’d gone, the flavor of the day boasted huckleberries picked fresh in the Blue Mountains.
“Huckleberry season is over, so unless they preserved some of the berries, you might have to choose a different flavor.” Tony guided the horse down a busy street and stopped it near the drugstore. He helped Ilsa out of the buggy then smiled as she took his arm and began strolling down the boardwalk.
“If we can’t have huckleberry, I suppose we could settle for chocolate.” Ilsa gave him a saucy grin, knowing chocolate was his favorite flavor.
“I wouldn’t want to see you suffer.”
The sound of her laughter filled Tony’s heart as he held the door and she walked inside.
As they sat by a window, Ilsa savored her maple ice cream while Tony spooned his last bite of the frozen chocolate treat. They looked outside and watched Aundy walk past the window then stop to talk to the doctor’s wife.
Mrs. Reed turned to leave and Aundy took only a few steps before Pastor Whitting’s wife stopped her.
Ilsa giggled as she watched her sister try to make her way down the street to her favorite store.
“Aundy is a popular lady in town,” Tony observed, as two women from church stopped to talk to the fair-haired woman.
“She is and I’m so happy for her.” Ilsa’s eyes glowed with pride as she turned her gaze from the window to her melting ice cream. “She’s so different from how I remember.”
“What do you mean?” Tony asked, assuming Aundy had always been confident and determined.
“She’s more content than I’ve ever seen her. Life here, life with Garrett, makes her so happy.” Ilsa took a bite of her ice cream before continuing. “She always watched over us, worried about us. When our parents died, Aundy carried the bulk of the burden on her shoulders. After that, she rarely laughed or smiled. She focused everything on surviving from one day to the next. It’s good to see her enjoying life.”
“I think she’s been even happier since you arrived.” Tony reached up to wipe a drop of ice cream off Ilsa’s lip. The contact of his fingertip to her mouth made a storm of sensations race up his arm and send off rapidly firing signals in his head.
Jerking back his hand, he nearly knocked his empty ice cream dish on the floor.
“I’m such a mess.” Ilsa wiped her mouth with her napkin. Unsettled by Tony’s touch, she hurried to finish her ice cream, avoiding his gaze.
When she was with Tony, he made her so flustered with his presence she could hardly think straight. However, when she wasn’t around him, her heart ached and her thoughts lingered on wanting to see him again.
Ilsa never realized loving someone could be such sweet agony.
“I better get you back to your shop before your sister finds out I absconded with you for the afternoon.” Tony stood and held out his hand to Ilsa. She took it and gracefully rose to her feet, smiling at him as he escorted her out the door.
“We’re so close to my place, I’ll just walk from here. Thank you for introducing me to Rebecca and for the ice cream. Both are very much appreciated.” Ilsa gave him a warm smile before she hurried off in the direction of her shop.
Caught off guard by her brisk departure, Tony watched her walk down the street, carrying his heart.
Chapter Eighteen
Sincerely hoping Ilsa was in her shop, Tony strolled inside to find her sitting in front of a window, stitching an intricate pattern along the front of a dress.
Backlit from the sun, a golden aura surrounded her, making him suck in a gulp of air.
He wished he had a camera with him to capture the moment and gave a fleeting thought to running back to his studio to grab one.
Peaches slept curled at her feet near a basket of sewing notions. The dark brown of the gown she stitched stood out in sharp contrast to Ilsa’s own coral-toned frock. The rocking chair she sat in kept up a slow and steady rhythm as she gently pushed it into motion with her toe. He noticed the beautiful rose-patterned lamp he’d carried over from Mr. Johnson’s store when she purchased it last week sitting on a side table along with stacks of paper bearing her latest design ideas.
Purposefully walking toward her, his heart slammed against his chest when she gazed up at him with those gorgeous eyes and smiled.
Dropping to one knee, he clasped her small, soft hands between his.
“I’m begging, Ilsa. Please, please let me take your photo.” Pressing his lips to the palm of her hand, a shiver wracked through her. Immediately, he released her fingers, thinking he’d frightened her.
Before he could get to his feet, she reached out and placed her hands on either side of his face, looking into his eyes with affection.
“If it means that much to you, I surrender. You can take my photograph.”
Tony felt himself falling into her big, blue eyes and knew if he did, he’d never come out. Stopping the descent, he kissed her cheek then stood and pulled her up with him.
“Let’s go, now, before you change your mind.”
“I can’t just run off and leave my shop every time you come up with some idea,” she said, pulling her hand from his and picking up the dress she’d been working on from the floor. The mayor’s wife ordered the dark brown dress and wanted fall leaves and acorns incorporated into the design. Hoping to make inroads into the local fashion scene, Ilsa gladly worked to make the dress one the woman would love.
“Why not? You spend too much time here alone and you need a break. I know for a fact you’re already busier than you’d imagined with orders from your friends in Chicago.” Tony walked over to a display in the corner where Ilsa had staged a family dressed for an outing using the suit she’d made to fit him, along with a woman’s ensemble and one of the child-sized dress forms attired in a matching outfit.
“The fact that I do have more work than I can handle is why I need to keep busy, instead of off gallivanting with you.” Ilsa carefully draped the brown dress over the back of the rocking chair and moved her basket of notions off the floor. She walked across the room and tugged on Tony’s hand. “Knowing you, though, you won’t give me a moment of peace until we go take that photo, so let’s get it over with.”
“No,” he said, pulling away from her and leaning against a table where she had a display of hats and gloves.
“What? You just said you wanted to take it. You were practically begging. Actually, you were begging.”
“If you aren’t going to enjoy it, there’s no reason to do it. I don’t take photos of cranky, ungrateful subjects. It makes for bad photography.” Tony studied his knuckles, waiting for Ilsa to realize he was teasing her again.
He felt the smack to his arm then heard her loud “humph!” before she marched to the front door and locked it, turning the sign to closed.
Grabbing his hand again, she yanked on it, trying to pull him toward her back room. When he wouldn’t move, she stepped behind him and pushed against his back.
“Madam, I don’t know what nefarious schemes you have planned, but I’m an innocent boy who refuses to participate.” Tony almost choked on his laughter at the look on Ilsa’s face as she glared at him.
“Photo or not, last chance,” she said. Impatiently folding her arms across her chest, she tapped her tiny foot.
“Photo. Most definitely a photo.” Tony grabbed her around the waist and swung her out the back door before setting her on her feet. She wouldn’t brook any of his “nonsense,” as she called it, in the front of her store, but she didn’t seem to mind if he let his playful side loose where no one passing by could see.
With her elbow in his hand, he guided her across the back lot and out the alley closest to his studio.
As they strolled down the street in the warm October sunshine, they both breathed deeply of the spicy-scented air.
“I love the smell of autumn,” Tony said, opening the door to his shop and watching as Ilsa walked inside.
“Me, too. I’ve heard autumn in New York is quite spectacular.” Ilsa glanced at the walls, looking for any new photos Tony added since her last visit. She smiled at one of Caterina and Kade in a prominent position.
“It is nice, although I think I prefer the big sky and wide-open spaces here.” Tony knew Ilsa would want to study the photo of his sister and her husband. Caterina wore the new dress Ilsa created for her and Kade gazed adoringly at his beautiful wife. Proud of the photo, Tony made additional copies and sent one to his parents, knowing they’d enjoy seeing it and would show it to his four brothers and their wives.
“This is wonderful, Tony. Even if I might be a little biased, you caught Caterina’s feisty spirit and Kade’s obvious infatuation with her.” Ilsa glanced over her shoulder at Tony, smiling favorably. “It’s perfect.”
“I’m so glad it meets with your approval. I was worried you’d object and I’d have to take it down then wrestle the copies I made away from my sister and insist my parents destroy the one I sent them.”
Ilsa laughed. “Have I ever mentioned that you are a terrible tease?”
“Only every time I see you.” Tony released a beleaguered sigh. “I suppose I should just stop speaking to you altogether.”
“Don’t get carried away.” Ilsa playfully tugged on the vest Tony wore, looking at him imploringly. He grinned and took her arm, directing her to stand in front of a backdrop in his photography studio.
“Let me get my equipment set up then I’ll place you.”
“Place me? What does that mean?” she asked, watching as Tony carried over his tripod and camera then worked on adjusting the focus.
“It means, I’ll position how and where I want you to stand.” Tony glanced at her then returned to adjusting the camera.
“I should have put on a hat, or changed my dress,” Ilsa said, running a hand up to her hair, hoping the pins she’d carelessly jabbed in it when she dressed that morning kept it contained.
“You look lovely, as always, although I am quite partial to that color on you. It makes your cheeks look like sun-kissed peaches and your eyes sparkle.” Tony flicked his fingers her direction, motioning her to stand still.
“Thank you.” Flustered by his compliment, heat radiated from her blushing cheeks. She was never certain if Tony was teasing or serious. This was definitely one of those times.
He frequently told her she was lovely, or that something she wore was pretty, but he often followed it up with a waggling eyebrow or silly smirk. She wished he could see how beautiful he made her feel with his words.
Finished with his camera settings, Tony walked over to her and studied her a moment. Folding his left arm across his chest, he placed his right elbow on it, resting his chin on his upraised knuckles.
Under his intense scrutiny, Ilsa wanted to hide, or at least step away from his penetrating gaze. She felt like he could see right through her.
He waggled his scarred eyebrow at her, making her laugh. She relaxed with a sigh.
“You’re far too serious, chickadee.”
“Only because you’re staring at me.” She tried not to jump when Tony placed his hand on the back of her leg, forcing it forward.
“I wasn’t staring at you. I was envisioning how I want you to look when I take your photograph.” Tony picked up a parasol from a nearby stash of props and had Ilsa hold the handle in her hand, leaning on it slightly.
Tilting her head, he adjusted a few stands of her hair, covering the scar she was so self-conscious about then gave her a stern look. “Hold perfectly still.”
“I wouldn’t dream of moving if we have to go through all that again.”
Tony chuckled then concentrated on taking the photo.
Since Ilsa didn’t protest, he took a few more, moving her around in a variety of positions.
“Are we quite through?” she finally asked, tired of posing and holding still.
“Just about. I promise this is the last one.” Tony placed a stool behind her and motioned for her to sit down. He positioned her hands on her lap and tilted her chin so she was looking over her shoulder, directly at the camera. “Can you hold this pose?”
“Of course, but only if it is truly the last one.”
“Truly,” Tony repeated, going back to the camera and focusing on Ilsa’s face. She was so beautiful, so sweet and lovely, he ached with wanting.
Straightening, he gave her one of the silly grins that always made her smile.
“Look at me, chickadee, not the camera.” Tony held one hand above his head. “Look at me and pretend you’re looking at the man you love. You’re completely mad for him and want, more than anything, for your lover passionately to kiss your rosy lips and whisper words of undying devotion in your ear. Let me see the love in your eyes. Wear it on your face.”
Ilsa couldn’t believe the words coming out of Tony’s mouth. It took no effort for her to let go of her defenses and look at him with all the love she felt in her heart. Every ounce of longing, every drop of dreaming was there as Tony captured the image.
“You’ve been a good sport, Ilsa, and for that I thank you.” Tony bowed to her then kissed the backs of both her hands when he finished taking the photograph.
“It’s a little late to charm me, isn’t it?” she asked with an impish grin as he walked her outside and down the street toward her shop.
“It’s never too late or too early for charm,” Tony teased, making her smile.
“You seem to carry it around in a
bundance with the ability to spread it lavishly wherever you go.”
Tony took the key from Ilsa’s hand and unlocked her back door. “Thank you, I think. At least that sounded like a compliment.”
“It was, mostly.” Ilsa grinned over her shoulder as she picked up Peaches and rubbed the kitten’s head, making it purr.
“I’ll leave you to your stitching, but I did have something I wanted to give you.” Tony took the cat from her and set him on the worktable.
He removed a small box from his pocket and held it out to Ilsa.
She stared at it, then him. Gingerly, she reached out to take it.
“It won’t bite.” Tony’s voice sounded husky, even to his own ears. Deeply breathing of Ilsa’s violet scent, he wondered how he could last one more day without her love, without tasting her lips and making her his own.
“You didn’t need to get me a gift. You’ve done so much for me, Tony, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you.”
Ilsa fingered the box a moment before she lifted the lid. A smile broke out on her face and she immediately lifted the necklace from where it nestled against a bed of blue velvet.
“Oh, Tony, this is wonderful.” Ilsa held the necklace out to him and turned around so he could fasten it for her.
“Do you really like it?” Tony asked, hoping she liked his gift.
“I love it.” Smiling, she held the pendant of a little bird sitting on a flowering branch as it dangled on the end of a solid gold chain.
“I thought this could replace the necklace you gave Rebecca.” Tony fastened the clasp and fought the urge to kiss Ilsa. He let his fingers trace the silky strands of her hair as it swept up her neck before he dropped his hands and stepped back. “Let me see how it looks.”
She turned around, beaming a pleased smile his direction.
“A chickadee for my chickadee,” Tony teased, taking another step away from her. The temptation to kiss her was about to overcome his ability to resist.
“Thank you, Tony.” Ilsa threw her arms around him and hugged him before she ran over to a mirror so she could better see the pendant. “It’s the most wonderful gift.”
Ilsa (Pendleton Petticoats Book 3) Page 20