Ilsa:

by Shanna Hatfield

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Someone’s in a hurry,” Nik observed from his spot on the front porch beside Ilsa.

  It had been two weeks since what they all referred to as the “incident” and the bruising on her face looked much better. Her ribs no longer hurt and her beaten body had stopped aching, but the turmoil in her spirit hadn’t lessened.

  Refusing to see most everyone, she had sorely missed Tony.

  Full of life, fun, and excitement, Tony had made her feel more alive when he was around. Now, more than ever, she needed the spark his presence provided, but stubbornly refused to see him until all the bruises were completely gone. She knew it was silly and vain, but she didn’t want him to see her bruises because they made her feel ugly and somehow tainted.

  Looking up from the roses she painstakingly embroidered along the hem of a skirt, she saw a cloud of dust rolling up the lane as someone raced a horse toward the house.

  Deciding she wasn’t in a mood to hide, she turned her face back down to her work, pretending she didn’t notice anyone arrive.

  “Hello, Tony!” Nik called, leaping off the porch and running across the yard to the front gate. His two dogs, Sam and Ralph, barked as they ran beside him.

  “Hi, Nik. Is Garrett around?” Tony asked, looking at the boy but fully aware of Ilsa sitting on the porch, trying to ignore him.

  “He and J.B. went to take a tour of the new agricultural experiment station they just opened in Union. Did you know it’s the first one in Oregon?”

  Tony shook his head, trying to hide his grin at the boy’s enthusiasm.

  “Anyway, they’ll be back tomorrow. Is there something we can help you with?” Nik asked, taking Giacomo’s reins from Tony and looping them through the ring set in one of the fence posts for just that purpose.

  “No. The telegraph office received some important national news so I thought I’d ride out to tell you. A general call went out on the phone line, but I didn’t know if anyone was home to hear it.” Tony put a hand on Nik’s shoulder as they walked together to the porch and up the steps. The news gave him an excuse to ride out to Nash’s Folly in hopes of seeing Ilsa. He’d been out several times in the past few weeks, but this was the first time he’d seen her.

  Removing his hat, Tony tipped his head politely to her. However, she made no acknowledgement of his presence.

  “Let me get Aundy. She’s in the kitchen.” Nik opened the front door then turned back to Tony, watching him stare at Ilsa. They’d all been protective of her since the incident and Nik didn’t want Tony to say anything to upset her. It was clear to him she didn’t want Tony around, although he couldn’t fathom why. “Would you rather come inside to talk to her?”

  “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll wait here.” Tony sank down in the chair Nik vacated upon his arrival and settled his attention on Ilsa.

  Although she kept her face turned away from him and focused on the work on her lap, he could see the bruising had faded significantly. He knew Doc removed her stitches earlier in the week and agreed that no one would ever notice the scar running parallel to her hairline.

  “How are you, chickadee?” he asked, leaning back in the rattan rocking chair and setting it in motion. He liked that Aundy had four of the comfortable chairs on the porch. There was something about sitting outside in the evening air with the gentle motion that was soothing.

  She didn’t respond to him. Didn’t even acknowledge his presence.

  “I see you’re in a talkative mood today,” he said, wondering why she was ignoring him. He’d spent the last two weeks in misery, absorbing what news he could get from Caterina or Aundy about Ilsa’s condition. He was tired of waiting for her to decide she looked good enough to be friends again.

  Her bruised skin didn’t bother him, other than thinking about what caused it. What kept him awake, tossing and turning at night, was the thought that she shut him out of her life and wouldn’t give him a good reason why. Certain it wasn’t her appearance that kept her hiding in her room, he worried there was something going on none of them knew about.

  Maybe she was afraid of him after watching him beat Delmon’s face to a bloody pulp. Tony knew something in him had snapped in that moment. He hoped he’d never again in his life experience the urge to destroy another human he’d felt when he’d seen Delmon on top of Ilsa, slicing her skin with a knife.

  He’d spent plenty of time on his knees praying about what happened. Still coming to terms with the whole ordeal, he hoped it wasn’t fear that kept Ilsa from seeing him. Wanting answers to his questions, he decided he wasn’t leaving until he had some.

  “What brings you out today, Tony?” Aundy asked as she stepped outside and set a tray with milk and cookies on the table near his elbow. “Nik said you had some news to share. We’ve been out working in the garden this evening and I didn’t hear the telephone ring.”

  “I wondered.” Tony accepted a cookie and glass of milk from Aundy. He watched as she held a glass out to Ilsa, but the girl shook her head, never raising her gaze from her sewing.

  “Well, what’s the news?”

  “President McKinley was shot this afternoon.”

  Aundy gasped and set her glass of milk down on the table with a thud. “My word! Is he going to be okay? What happened?”

  “All the telegram said was that he’d been shot at the Pan-American Expo in Buffalo, New York, and was in surgery,” Tony said, looking from Nik, who sat on the porch steps staring at him, to Aundy. Ilsa hadn’t moved or said anything, so Tony tried not to focus on her. “I’m sure as more news is available, we’ll hear about it, but I thought you all would want to know.”

  “Thank you for bringing out the news. That’s quite disturbing,” Aundy said, looking thoughtfully out over the pasture across the lane from the house. Grazing sheep backlit by the setting sun offered a tranquil picture that seemed in sharp contrast to the distressing news Tony had just shared.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you, I just know how you like to stay up on current events and Nik mentioned you were helping him study the U.S. presidents this summer.”

  “No, Tony. I’m very glad you came,” Aundy said, patting his arm. “We’ll be praying for his recovery. Did they apprehend the shooter?”

  “I really don’t know. The telegram was quite brief. I’m certain we’ll hear the full story in the next day or two. With the ability for news to travel so fast these days with the telegraph and by train, I’m sure we’ll know all the details soon.”

  “Why would anyone want to shoot our president?” Nik asked, swirling the milk around in his glass while one hand rested on Sam’s head.

  “I’m sure many people think they have a reason for doing such a terrible thing, Nik, but we might never know,” Aundy said, handing Nik the plate of cookies. He took two and passed it back to her. Glancing past Tony to where Ilsa sat pretending to be absorbed in her stitchery, Aundy decided the girl had hidden from him long enough.

  “Say, Nik, I could use some help down at the garden. Can you come with me?” Aundy stood and winked at Tony, letting him know she was giving him an opportunity to be alone with Ilsa.

  “Sure, but didn’t we just…”

  Aundy gave Nik a silencing look. He hurried to drain the milk in his glass and set it on the table before following her out of the yard and toward the garden. Tony could hear the boy asking Aundy if she could tell him again about President Lincoln’s assassination.

  When they were out of earshot, Tony reached over and pulled the dress out of Ilsa’s hands.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, glaring at him incredulously.

  “Getting you to talk.” He gave her a self-satisfied grin as he set her sewing project on Aundy’s vacated chair. “Look at that, it worked.”

  “Give that back,” Ilsa demanded, holding her hand out toward Tony.

  He grabbed her fingers with his and tugged Ilsa out of her chair and onto his lap so quickly, it took her a moment to realize what had happene
d.

  “Tony! I insist you stop this nonsense.” She started to get up, but his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her in place.

  Panic began to bubble in her chest and she pushed against him, finding it hard to breathe.

  “Let me up,” she said, but he continued to hold on thinking she wasn’t serious. Her chest began to ache and she fought to get a breath. “Let me up, Tony! Let me go!”

  Hearing the hysteria edging into her voice, Tony released her and she jumped to her feet, rushing to the other side of the porch where she clung to a post and gasped for air.

  “What’s wrong, Ilsa? I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry, chickadee. I’m truly sorry.” Tony stood behind her and rubbed his hands soothingly along her shoulders.

  Ilsa hung her head and waited for the feeling of intense anxiety to pass. She’d had this experience a few times since Delmon attacked her, but never in front of anyone. She kept it from Aundy because she didn’t want her to worry, but she was beginning to think she should tell someone. Maybe she was going crazy.

  Hanging onto the post for support, she refused to look Tony in the face. She knew he was only trying to help and the part of her that didn’t feel damaged and angry wanted to put his mind at ease.

  The first few days after the attack, she’d been consumed with bitterness, blaming everyone else for what happened to her.

  It was her father’s fault for dying in an accident at work and her mother’s fault for giving up the will to live, leaving her an orphan. It was Louisa’s fault for forcing her to meet Delmon. It was Aundy’s fault for dragging her to this western town in the middle of nowhere. It was Garrett’s fault for not being a better brother-in-law. It was Kade and Caterina’s fault for inviting them to dinner that evening. It was Nora’s fault for asking to see her sample book. It was Tony’s fault for not keeping her safe.

  He was supposed to keep her safe because he was the one person in the world who gave her the greatest sense of security and always made her feel cherished.

  Irritable and fractious with anyone who dared speak to her, let alone look at her face, Ilsa got an earful from her sister just the other day. Aundy finally stopped walking on eggshells and let her know, in no uncertain terms, her attitude had to go and gave her all the reasons she should be down on her knees, giving thanks for all the blessings she’d been given.

  While her sister’s words made her mad at the time, once she realized what Aundy said was true, she began to appreciate how fortunate she was and thankful for what she had.

  Little flickers of bitterness kept popping up, but Ilsa tried to cut them off before they grew.

  Her lingering problem, though, was an overwhelming fear of being alone, of being attacked again.

  Kade assured her Delmon would never again see the light of day on the outside of a jail cell, but fear still got the best of her.

  Like now.

  Tony would never hurt her, but for some reason seeing him made her afraid, and that brought on one of her episodes.

  “Ilsa, talk to me. Please? What can I do to help?” Tony pleaded, bending his head down so his breath blew softly on her neck. She took a deep breath and inhaled his familiar scent. A little of her tension and fear slid away.

  Allowing herself to lean against him, his warmth penetrated her back and she calmed down. As her breathing evened out, she stood, unmoving, trying to pull her thoughts together.

  “I’m sorry, Ilsa. I’ll go get Aundy and then be on my way.” Tony started to move away from her.

  “No, Tony. Please stay.” Ilsa reached out and caught his hand in hers. “Please. I’d like to talk now.”

  Tony studied her a moment before nodding his head. “You don’t have to.”

  “I know, but I want to.” Ilsa moved so she could lean against the porch railing. Tony stood beside her, meshing their fingers together as the sun’s light began to fade behind them. “I’m sorry, Tony. I shouldn’t have ignored you. I don’t want you to think you did anything wrong.”

  “But I must have hurt you or scared you. I didn’t mean to.” Tony stared down at the top of Ilsa’s golden head. He’d just been teasing, mostly, when he pulled her onto his lap. He certainly didn’t intend to scare her and the last thing he’d willingly do is hurt her.

  “I know you didn’t and it wasn’t anything you did. I’ve had a few of these… um… moments, if you will, since Delmon attacked me. They just happen sometimes,” Ilsa said, not missing the irony in sharing her problem with the one person she’d refused to see the last few weeks.

  Thinking of all the people who stopped by to wish her well and express their wishes for her recovery, Ilsa had even accepted a bedraggled bouquet of wildflowers from their crotchety neighbor Marvin Tooley. But she’d refused to say hello to this kind man who had quickly become her best friend.

  “What does Doc say about them?” Tony asked, rubbing his thumb back and forth across her wrist. Ilsa found the touch both invigorating and soothing.

  “He doesn’t know. I haven’t mentioned it.”

  “What about Aundy?”

  “I haven’t exactly told her, either.”

  “Then who, exactly, have you told?” Tony stopped rubbing her wrist then bent down so she had no choice but to look at his face.

  “Just you,” Ilsa said, glancing away. If Tony didn’t stop being so sweet and looking so concerned, she was afraid she’d lose what little control she had and throw her arms around him, begging him to never let her go.

  She hadn’t felt this safe since before the attack. Something about Tony, something about being with him, made her feel cherished and protected.

  “Will you at least mention it to Doc the next time you see him? He might have some suggestions on how to help you.” Tony was more worried about Ilsa now than he’d been before he arrived at Nash’s Folly. He had no idea she was having attacks brought on by anxiety or fear, but part of him felt pleased she chose to confide in him her secret.

  “I’ll think about it.” Not knowing how to say what was on her mind and in her heart, Ilsa turned and watched the sun fill the sky with a glorious array of colors as it sank toward the horizon.

  “Are you afraid of me? Afraid of what I did to Delmon?”

  Ilsa shook her head. “No, Tony. I could never be afraid of you. I know you have a tender heart and a gentle spirit. It was an isolated incident, of that I’m sure.”

  Grateful to know she wasn’t afraid of him, Tony still didn’t know what was bothering her.

  “Ilsa?” She stood quietly for several minutes, gazing at the vibrant sunset while he watched her. “I want to help you. Just tell me what I can do.”

  “You’ve already done more than enough, Tony. I’m fairly certain I owe you my life. You’ve been a good friend to me and I appreciate that.” Ilsa wanted to tell Tony how much she cared for him, how much she loved him, but she wouldn’t. Not now. Not when she felt so broken inside.

  While Tony was glad Ilsa thought of him as a friend, he hoped there was more to their relationship than just friendship.

  “Chickadee, if you’re still worried about me seeing you with bruises, you really need to stop. I don’t care what you look like. It isn’t your golden hair, or bright blue eyes, or even those pert pink lips that I adore. It’s you. It’s what’s inside here.” Tony lightly tapped her chest with his index finger. “When I look at you, I don’t see the fading bruises. I see a beautiful girl with a bright mind, who had a very bad experience but was spunky enough to come through it. Don’t let what Delmon did change you or your future, Ilsa. That’s giving him a victory and letting him have power over you. Just go on being you, the Ilsa everyone loves.”

  “Tony…” Ilsa turned to look at him and found herself wrapped in his arms. Sinking against him, she felt revived as a peaceful serenity flooded through her.

  “Ilsa, I need you to know…”

  Tony closed his mouth, leaving his thoughts unspoken as Aundy and Nik walked around the corner of the house with the two dogs and Nik
’s pet sheep, Butter, following them.

  “I’ll come see you again, soon. I promise.” Tony quickly kissed the tip of her nose before he released her and stepped away.

  Picking up the hat he’d discarded earlier, he thanked Aundy for the milk and cookies and bid them all good night.

  “Be careful riding back to town, Tony. It’s almost dark out,” Aundy called as he swung onto Giacomo and headed down the lane.

  “I will. See you all later.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Where do you want this?” Tony asked, carrying a large trunk as he walked into Ilsa’s shop.

  “In the workroom, please.” Ilsa waved her hand toward the back of her store. After the day Tony rode out to Nash’s Folly to tell them about President McKinley, she somehow didn’t feel as afraid to move on with life.

  Deciding to continue with her plans to open her boutique, she asked Garrett to contact the carpenter and have him move forward constructing her shelves and workspace.

  In no time at all, he finished the work and had everything installed. Caterina, Aundy, and Nora helped her clean the shop from top to bottom while Kade and Garrett made sure her windows and doors all had new, sturdy locks, so she would feel safe.

  Today, she was moving in all her belongings and planned to spend several days unpacking and setting up displays before opening the following week.

  Many members of the community joined the nation in mourning the president when news came the previous week of his death due to an undetected infection caused by the gunshot wound. Vice President Theodore Roosevelt took the helm as the leader of their country.

  Ilsa listened as Garrett read the accounting of a speech he gave mere days before President McKinley’s shooting, talking about speaking softly but carrying a big stick. She rather liked that philosophy and thought she might apply it to her own life. She knew the speaking softly part wouldn’t be hard to do, but wasn’t exactly sure what big stick she would carry.