“I heard what you said. I just don’t think it’s what’s best for you.” Tony watched as Ilsa moved her little step ladder so she could take down a bolt of fabric. He reached up and grabbed it before she could, trying to prove his point.
The glare she shot him was so cold, icy fingers snaked down his spine. Ilsa snatched the fabric out of his hand and tossed it on her worktable.
Pointing a finger toward the back door, she continued staring at him. “Get out, Tony. Get out of my shop and don’t you dare come back until you realize I know what’s best for me and will make the decisions from here on out. Me. Not you. Not Aundy. Not even Kade or Caterina. Me.”
She gave him a push that might have felled a smaller man. Amused she thought she could strong-arm him out the door, he bit back a chuckle.
“Whatever you say, chickadee.” Tony opened the door and stepped outside, then grinned at Ilsa. “When you’re ready to go to Caterina’s for dinner, just let me know. I’ll walk you over.”
The slamming of the door in his face somewhat muffled her frustrated scream.
Tony stared at the closed portal and heard her turn the lock, ensuring he would not come back in.
Dejected, he stuffed his hands in his pockets, and walked across the back lot in the direction of his studio. Although he didn’t have any ice that needed cut, he had plenty of photos he wanted to work on, including a few of Ilsa.
If he gave her a day or two to calm down, things would go back to normal.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“When is she going to go back to normal?” Tony asked Caterina as he sat in the restaurant’s kitchen one cold winter morning, watching fluffy white snowflakes drift down outside her window.
Caterina gave him a long look then shook her head.
“What part of everything she said didn’t you understand, Tony?” Caterina knew her brother was miserable without Ilsa in his life, but it had been his choice.
Ilsa made it perfectly clear after the night she did battle with the two drunks on her way home from the doctor’s house that she was no longer going to allow people to treat her like she was incompetent.
While Caterina, Kade, Garrett, and most everyone else applauded her efforts and supported Ilsa’s new outlook on life, Aundy and Tony struggled to accept the changes.
Aundy finally realized Ilsa was no longer a little girl in need of constant supervision or concern, but a woman capable of taking care of herself. She apologized to her sister for trying to hang on to the past instead of noticing how well Ilsa was doing in the present.
Not only was she excelling with her business, she was also learning new skills she deemed necessary to being completely self-sufficient. Ilsa even invited a few of them over for a meal she prepared entirely by herself. Although the food wasn’t fancy, it was mostly edible.
A few days earlier, when Caterina stopped by Ilsa’s shop, the girl had been out shoveling snow off the walk. Instead of acting like the work was drudgery, she smiled and told Caterina she felt liberated being able to do it for herself.
Tony had nearly tied himself in knots when he stopped by to do the shoveling and found it already finished. It put him in a dark mood he refused to shake off.
“I understood every word she said. I just didn’t think she meant them.” Tony never actually expected Ilsa to learn to be self-sufficient. He certainly never would have thought she’d learn so much so quickly.
He kept waiting for her to ask for his help, like she used to. He kept hoping she’d let him walk her home after dinner at Caterina’s or church on Sunday.
Instead, she insisted on going by herself and he ended up lurking in the shadows, keeping an eye on her from a distance. With the new spring in her step and confidence in her smile, he got the idea she could tackle anything.
His problem was that he no longer felt needed. He had no idea how to fit into the new world Ilsa worked so diligently to make for herself.
“Why are you struggling so much with this, Tony?” Caterina sat down beside him and patted his hand where it rested on the table. “Why are you making this so hard when it doesn’t need to be?”
Tony shrugged and focused his gaze out the window. He wasn’t willing to admit to himself he felt left out of Ilsa’s life, and he sure wasn’t going to vocalize it to his sister.
“She misses you.” Caterina took a sip of the hot tea she’d made, studying her brother over the rim of her cup. “Maybe as much as you miss her.”
“I don’t miss her,” Tony said quickly. Too quickly.
He tried to ignore the grin and knowing look Caterina gave him.
“I thought we were friends and she barely speaks to me.” There, he could admit that much. It pained him not to be an active part of Ilsa’s life on a daily basis.
He missed the stories she told about life in Chicago and funny things that happened with her clients. He missed the sound of her laughter and the twinkle in her blue eyes. He missed the teasing violet scent of her fragrance, especially when it seemed to float around her golden head. He even missed the way her nose wrinkled when she found something offensive or thought something was funny and tried not to show it.
He missed everything about her but didn’t know how to fix what seemed to be broken between them.
Although he hoped she’d eventually come to her senses and realize she needed his help and protection, the opposite seemed to be true. The more Ilsa learned to do for herself, the more independent she became. All he seemed to be was a reminder of her weakest moments.
“Maybe she’d speak to you if you’d learn something new to say,” Caterina suggested, nibbling at a cookie from a plate she’d placed on the table when Tony first sat down.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, instead of trying to talk her into going back to the way she was, maybe you should learn to love her the way she is.”
Tony got to his feet, shrugged his arms into his coat, and stomped out the door, slamming it behind him.
Caterina called to him, but he ignored her and kept his brisk pace. He wanted to march over to Ilsa’s shop and shake some sense into her, but instead he decided to go for a ride, in hopes of clearing his head.
He stomped his way to the livery, saddled Giacomo, and was soon heading out of town with no direction in mind. Riding south, he somehow found himself stopping outside Rebecca’s place.
He’d been there several times since Ilsa made her declaration of independence, but he hadn’t said anything to Rebecca about it. For some reason, today he wanted a little of the old woman’s wisdom.
As he neared her doorway, she stuck her head out and smiled at him. “I’ve been waiting for you. Come in out of the cold.”
Tony stepped inside the warmth of her small home. The smell of cooking meat, most likely a stew of some sort, filled the air with a pleasant scent as it bubbled on the stove.
“How did you know I was coming today?” Tony asked, sitting down on a low stool by Rebecca’s chair.
“Spirits tell me,” she said, tapping her temple with one work-worn finger. When Tony gave her a dubious look, she grinned. “I knew you’d come check on me. You usually stop by once a week and I haven’t seen you for several days.”
“Trying to trick me?” Tony smiled at the old woman as she laughed and set her chair into a smooth rocking motion. She picked up a bag she’d been working on and resumed her beading.
“You can take that basket back to Miss Ilsa.” Rebecca pointed to a large basket covered with a white cloth sitting by the door. “I finished yesterday.”
Tony knew Ilsa had Rebecca working on some beading for a new dress design she planned to send to her favorite client in Chicago. She’d also engaged the old woman to sew a few handbags with floral designs.
Although he was more than happy to take the work Rebecca completed to Ilsa, he didn’t think she’d welcome him with open arms.
“I didn’t expect you to be finished,” Tony said, trying to remember if Ilsa mentioned how much she
planned to pay the woman for the work. “What does she owe you?”
Tony began to dig in his pocket for money, but Rebecca put a hand on his arm and shook her head. “Miss Ilsa already paid. My son took me to Pendleton a week ago and I went to her store. She served me tea and showed me her fancy dresses and things.”
“What did you think of her shop?”
“I like the quiet of my place here better, but it suits Miss Ilsa. She likes pretty things, although I don’t think she is a very good cook. She gave me a cookie to eat, but it was burned on the bottom and sticky on top.”
Tony laughed. “She’s much better at sewing than cooking, for sure.”
“I don’t think you came out here today to talk about sewing or cooking, did you, Tony?” Rebecca continued to rock and stitch, waiting for him to speak.
“No. I had some things on my mind and went for a ride and somehow found myself here.” Tony plucked at a piece of fringe on the buckskin rug beneath his feet.
“What sent you out riding in the cold and snow?” Rebecca studied the top of his dark head, since he kept his gaze locked on the floor. She’d come to care about Tony as if he was another son. “It must be something important.”
“My sister said something that made me mad, so I left in a bad mood.”
“You and your sister fight a lot, don’t you?” Rebecca knew from past conversations Tony and Caterina were too much alike to have a peaceful relationship. She’d met the woman once when she’d come with Tony in the summer to deliver ice. The two siblings not only resembled each other, but she could see they shared the same passionate, fiery spirit.
It was no wonder Deputy Rawlings had fallen for the feisty girl. He had a big personality along with a big heart and Rebecca thought that probably made for a good balance in their marriage.
Tony, on the other hand, had fallen in love with the timid, tiny Ilsa. His dynamic way of approaching life could easily overshadow her, although Rebecca thought the girl seemed different when she saw her the other day. More full of life and confidence.
Maybe the two of them could find a place of compromise where they could both be happy.
“Caterina and I have always fought, probably always will, but we love each other. Mamma says the two of us are the most alike.”
“What else would your mother say about you?”
Tony chuckled and rubbed his hand across his chin. “That we’re both stubborn and hot-tempered, we like to be right, can be bossy, and we don’t give up easily.”
“Those aren’t all bad.” Rebecca tried not to smile. She’d noticed all those traits in Tony. She’d also found him to be kind, gentle, and caring. He often brought ice to the reservation in the summer without any expectation of payment. “I know you also like to tease and laugh and are often the first to offer your help to someone in need.”
“Even when they don’t want it,” Tony mumbled. Rebecca looked at him expectantly, so he cleared his throat. “Ilsa had a little run-in with some men in town back in October. Since then, she won’t let me help her with anything. She says she wants to take care of herself.”
“Why is that a bad thing?” Rebecca was proud of the girl for showing some gumption. Everyone had heard about the seamstress who would run her scissors through any man who confronted her. Rebecca’s son had heard the story in town and told her. At least Ilsa wouldn’t have to worry about men sneaking up on her again. They all seemed afraid of what she might impale with her little scissors.
“Because she doesn’t need me anymore,” Tony finally admitted, returning his gaze to his feet.
“Hmm,” Rebecca said quietly, continuing to rock and sew.
Tony listened to the pop of the fire, the creak of the rocking chair, and absorbed the peacefulness surrounding Rebecca. His eyes began to feel drowsy, so he straightened his back and stretched his legs.
“I will tell you a story, Tony Campanelli, and you will listen carefully,” Rebecca said, giving him a stern look.
“A little bird hid in her nest. She was afraid of everything. She was afraid of the wind. She was afraid of the rain. She was even afraid of the sun and the moon. She sat in her nest, hiding and waiting, but she didn’t know what she was waiting for.
Other birds that were strong and fearless tried to get her to leave her nest. She refused. So they brought her food. They sang her songs. They made sure she was safe and cared for, but they couldn’t make her fly.
One day she looked up and saw a big snake slithering toward her. Its beady eyes stared at her and its forked tongue flicked her direction as it slid into her nest. “I’m going to eat you whole, little bird,” the snake said.
The little bird wasn’t ready to die. She had a life she finally wanted to start living, so she pecked those beady eyes and flogged the snake until he fled back down the tree. Hopping out to the edge of her nest, she looked down at the ground so far below and up at the sky so high above. Closing her eyes, the little bird jumped off the branch and flapped her wings, turning into a brave, beautiful eagle.”
Rebecca glanced at Tony as she finished her story. He studied her, digesting the words before a slow smile spread across his face.
“I take it to mean that Ilsa is the bird and I need to let her learn to fly on her own?”
“I never said that.” Rebecca hid her smile. She knew Tony was a smart man. “It is a story my grandmother told me and now I tell my grandchildren. Nothing more.”
“You’re full of tricks, Rebecca.” Tony grinned as he got to his feet. “Tricks and wisdom.”
“Be sure you tell her I said hello and will finish the bags she ordered soon.” Rebecca waved a hand at Tony as he picked up the basket by the door and walked out to where Giacomo waited for him.
In need of more time to think, Tony rode back to town, leaving the horse at the livery before walking to his shop. He would visit Ilsa later, but for now, he needed something to occupy his hands while he ordered his thoughts.
He went to his darkroom and worked on a special print he wanted to make of the girl he loved.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Shivering as she hurried to dress, Ilsa glanced out her frosty window at the snow-covered ground. Sunlight made the world sparkle as if it bore a thick crust of diamonds. The sight of the glistening crystals made her smile as she hurried to the kitchen and lit the stove.
Grateful for the furnace that kept her shop and apartment warm, the stove would chase away any lingering chill.
She hummed to herself as she took a recipe Aundy gave her from the tin box she kept on the counter then set about making bread. While the milk mixture cooled, she made herself a cup of tea and ate the last muffin from a successful batch she’d baked earlier in the week.
Proud of her efforts to learn how to cook and do all the domestic chores she’d previously avoided, Ilsa felt empowered taking care of herself.
She’d even stopped eating all her evening meals at Caterina’s restaurant. Although she missed the lively atmosphere and companionship, she knew it was important to continue her self-imposed cooking lessons. Between Aundy and Caterina giving her recipes and advice, along with a cookbook she’d purchased at Mr. Johnson’s store, she was learning, even if she didn’t enjoy it.
It didn’t mean all her efforts turned out well. Sometimes the baked goods were burnt or doughy. Sometimes her stew was watery, but each failed recipe helped her learn what not to do the next time.
Wondering why it took the incident with the two drunks to make her decide she could take care of herself, Ilsa was glad she finally came to that realization.
Thoughts of all the times she should have stood up to Louisa, packed her bags, and left, reminded her she’d been a coward.
She sat straight in her chair, glad those days were behind her. In the process of finding herself, she wished she hadn’t lost Tony’s friendship.
She sorely missed him.
Although she appreciated all the things he’d done to help her, protect her, that wasn’t why she wanted him around.
She enjoyed their conversations. Tony knew so many interesting things and they both liked to discuss articles they read in the newspaper or books. He never belittled her ideas or opinions, regardless of the topic.
Tony made her laugh with his teasing. How she missed the sound of his laughter, the light in his eyes, and the smirk on his face when she realized he was joking.
If she cared to admit it, she missed the masculine smell of him, the feel of his work-roughened hands holding hers, the sight of his muscles playing beneath the fabric of his shirt as he worked.
Loving him as much as she did, she missed every detail about him, from the scar running through his eyebrow to the way he rubbed his chin when he was thinking.
When she asked him to stay away until he came to terms with her new independence, she had no idea he’d absence himself from her permanently.
She still saw him at church and sometimes at Caterina’s, but they didn’t speak, at least not in the friendly way in which she’d become accustomed. A few times he’d offered to walk her home, but when she declined, he shot her an enraged look and stalked off.
Aundy had been nearly as stubborn as Tony in realizing Ilsa meant it when she said she was through being helpless. Her sister had tried for several weeks to continue taking care of her, mothering her.
Tired of the rift between them and constantly reminding Aundy she wanted to do things for herself, Ilsa decided she’d had enough. Unexpectedly catching Nora in town one afternoon, she asked if she’d mind taking her out to visit Aundy on her way home.
Nora was more than happy to oblige and the two of them had a wonderful visit on the way to Nash’s Folly. Nora told her how proud both she and J.B. were of her and how happy they were she was thriving on her own.
Buoyed by Nora’s praise, Ilsa marched into Aundy’s kitchen, sat her sister down at the table, and spoke from her heart, begging her to realize she didn’t need a mother, but desperately wanted a friend.
Ilsa (Pendleton Petticoats Book 3) Page 24