Natasha's Diary

by Heather Greenis

  “We’re bonded by our past,” Izabella admitted. “I have a business which bears my husband’s name. I’m determined to keep his memory and legacy alive.”

  Their conversation continued. Once Vicki convinced Izabella that Stewart would not be upset if she arrived at his work site, they prepared a picnic lunch for five. After pulling her hair back with a ribbon, Vicki opened the door and watched Brodie run to the buggy.

  “The dog loves being at the work site,” Vicki admitted. “Brodie believes she’s the boss. The foreman dog.”

  * * *

  An unexpected rush of happiness filled Stewart’s heart the moment the women came into view. Holding his clipboard in his left hand, he walked toward the buggy. Brodie jumped down. He assisted the ladies from the buggy.

  “I will give you two time to visit,” Vicki informed Stewart and Izabella. She walked off in search of Greg.

  “I would like to thank you again for the wonderful evening, and ensure you received this,” Izabella said.

  She extended her hand with a key resting on her palm. The key to her home? The smile disappeared from his face. How am I expected to respond? I do not wish to hurt her. Although he had thoroughly enjoyed their evening together, the notion of a commitment terrified him. Her relationship with Charles had progressed quickly. Is it possible she is expecting an engagement ring? Did I inadvertently say something to suggest I hoped to wed within a short time? Without hurting her, it was imperative Izabella be clear about his intentions. At this point, he wanted friendship, a companion. His heart still yearned for Natasha.

  “I find myself speechless,” he finally responded. “I had a wonderful evening…,” he stopped, praying for the words, not wishing to be blunt, “and wish to see you again…,” he continued to struggle. To his dismay, Izabella began to smile, but never attempted to interrupt.

  Stewart took a deep breath. Subtlety wasn’t an attribute he possessed. “I never wish to hurt or disappoint you,” he paused and watched her warily, “but I cannot accept your key.”

  “It’s pleasing to hear you also make assumptions. I believe this key fell from your pocket last night. It belongs to you.”

  His cheeks burned with heat. His chest got heavy. How humiliating. I’m blushing in her presence. He turned his head.

  “I don’t believe you were intending for me to have this,” she continued.

  He shifted his eyes to look at her.

  “My relationship with Charles progressed quickly, but we were inseparable, well acquainted before he….” Stewart’s face contorted. The heat level rose. She laughed at him. “I believe you are equally as embarrassed as I was upon our introduction.”

  “That was cruel.” He smiled, appreciating her sense of humour. Izabella’s laughter intensified.

  “The expression on your face was priceless. I’d pay money to see that again,” she teased.

  “I had considered introducing you to my father, but now, I’m not certain,” he joked. “Be thankful you’re a chum of Vicki’s.”

  With his crew settling for their noon meal, Stewart reached for Izabella’s hand and led her toward his father, Vicki, and Greg. “Poppa is a foreman for this company, without whom my business would not have achieved success. Greg’s talent negotiating contracts is invaluable. I’m fortunate he’s also willing to do some of the physical labour with the crew.”

  “Charles spoke highly of your father and Greg. I recall him praise Greg’s professionalism during the negotiations. If the opportunity had presented itself, Charles would have hired Greg.”

  After the formal introduction to his father, the family had a lengthy conversation while eating their meal.

  “It’s pleasing to see that twinkle,” Poppa whispered to Stewart as Greg spoke to Vicki and Izabella.

  “I’m unable to hide my feelings,” Stewart admitted to his poppa. “I see no reason to do so.”

  Seemingly pleased to hear the admission, his father turned to Izabella. “If you don’t have any previous engagements, Stewart’s momma and I would be honoured if you would accept an invitation to dine with our family on Sunday.” He turned his attention back to Stewart. “You may attend if you please, or simply send Hope and Brodie along with Vicki and Greg.”

  Izabella laughed.

  “My apologies, Poppa. You shall be graced with my presence as well.” He rolled his eyes and leaned toward Izabella. “Momma is kind and compassionate, yet finds it in her heart to love him.”

  “Not only do you share your poppa’s appearance, but the same wit.”

  With the meal break over, his father called the men back to work.

  Stewart turned to Izabella. “If you’re not required at the boutique, remain by my side. Keep me company.”

  “My presence won’t be missed.”

  They were still conversing when Vicki left to pick up Hope from school. It seemed his sister had just left.

  Woof.

  Brodie raced toward the buggy. Hope jumped down and raced toward them.

  “Miss Izabella. Did you enjoy spending time with Poppa? His eyes twinkle when he speaks of you. I’ve been told it is a sign of affection.”

  Heat penetrated his face, neck and chest. If it were possible to crawl into a hole, Stewart would have vanished from sight. He clenched his eyes for the second time that day.

  “Hope Elizabeth Victoria Donovan,” he growled softly.

  “My apologies, Poppa,” she whispered in a tone so soft and low it was barely audible. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  “My eyes sparkle when your poppa looks my way. I can feel my heart pound,” Izabella admitted, easing Hope’s guilty conscience.

  “You must sup with us this evening.”

  “Hope. I cannot. I’ve overstayed my welcome already.”

  “Nonsense,” Stewart replied. “Allow Hope the privilege of informing Vicki you will stay.”

  When Izabella nodded, Hope reached up, kissed his cheek, and ran to tell her aunt.

  That evening, once Izabella departed for home, Vicki spoke in detail of her conversation with Izabella.

  * * *

  With Izabella on his mind, disappointment filled Stewart’s heart when his sister arrived at the site the following day alone. He didn’t mention his displeasure, but Stewart enjoyed the previous afternoon, and wished to see Izabella’s smiling face again.

  Later that day, he sat at his office desk looking at the correspondence that required his attention. An envelope from the theatre brought a smile to his face. It contained a brochure announcing their next production. In his mind, he envisioned walking into the building with Izabella by his side, guiding her to their seats. The idea stayed with him all day.

  Once his work day was over, he rode to Izabella’s and invited her to his home for dinner. As they ate their meal, Stewart spoke of the theatre. Vicki was enthusiastic, as always.

  “Would you do me the honour of accompanying me?” he asked Izabella.

  “You don’t plan to trust our luck?” she questioned. “I received my notice late this afternoon. It was my plan to purchase a ticket tomorrow.”

  “Nay,” he responded, his tone serious. “I’d be honoured to walk into the theatre with you on my arm. Something I was never able to do with my wife.”

  He noticed Vicki smile. He had always encouraged Jane to walk a pace ahead, never by his side.

  * * *

  Sunday afternoon, Stewart, Greg, Vicki and Hope rode to pick up Izabella on the way to dinner at the Donovans. Stewart stopped the horses in front of Izabella’s home, lowered himself to the ground and walked to the house. Greg, Vicki, and Hope waited in the buggy. Nearing her door, he recalled the conversation about his dropped key. He tapped on the door. Izabella appeared wearing an attractive blue dress with her hair pulled back in an informal bun. After glancing back to ensure he was out of view of his family, he reached for her hand.

  “I find myself thinking of you when we are not together,” he admitted, looking into her eyes. “I miss your wit.�
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  “My wit?” she responded, her lips curling into a smile. “Your poppa’s wit is drier than mine.”

  “Indeed, but yours is more challenging. Poppa begins to smile once the words have been spoken. You possess the ability to remain without expression.” Stewart extended his arm and escorted her to the buggy.

  They enjoyed a wonderful visit and meal with his parents. The sun was setting when they left his childhood home and travelled the short distance to Izabella’s house. Stopping at the residence, Stewart walked Izabella to her door and reached for her hand.

  “As expected, Momma adores you,” he admitted.

  Looking into her eyes, he guided her fingers toward his face and gave them a gentle kiss.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The evening of the symphony, Stewart waited impatiently at the door for his sister and daughter. Vicki stepped out of her room in a shimmering forest green gown and descended the staircase. She reached the last step as Hope appeared at the top of the stairs. Stewart watched his daughter place her hand on the wood banister, look down at them, and then turn around.

  “Hope,” he called.

  “I require more time, Poppa.”

  “Colour,” Vicki whispered. “We’re both wearing green.”

  Stewart groaned. “Pray, tell me this doesn’t bother you.”

  “Not at all, but I’m not fifteen.”

  “Hope,” he lectured, raising his voice to ensure she heard him as she disappeared back into her room. “Uncle Greg is at the buggy. Aunt Vicki and I will be joining him. If you plan to attend this symphony production, you must walk down these steps this minute. Izabella will be ready and waiting. Nana and Papa will be at the door to the hall, waiting for us to arrive. I will not be late.”

  Hope was still grumbling about her green dress as she joined them. They stepped onto the buggy and were on the way. Greg stopped the team of horses at Izabella’s home. Stewart hopped down and walked toward her front door. Izabella stepped out in a long pink gown, diamond necklace, and matching teardrop earrings.

  “You look wonderful,” he whispered. He assisted her onto the buggy. Greg turned the horses toward the city.

  Once they met his parents outside the hall, his father guided his mother to their seats with the remainder of the family following behind. Stewart took his place between Izabella and Hope. The music began, and the lights were dimmed. Stewart slid his hand over Izabella’s. It pleased him that she returned the pressure. Turning his head slightly, he noticed Hope smiling at him. He gave her a quick wink. The evening was perfect.

  The following morning, he sent a telegram to the boutique, addressed to Izabella. He requested the pleasure of Izabella’s company the following Saturday.

  * * *

  Stewart stood at Izabella’s door, tucked in his shirt and adjusted his jacket over his dark casual pants. Preparing to knock, his fingers clenched into a clammy palm. After a quick tap on the door, he wiped his palms on his trousers. “This is frustrating. I’m not a teenager. I’m nervous at the prospect of being alone with her, yet I desire the private time away from my family.” Izabella opened the door in a simple but attractive green dress. Her hair floated like waves down around her face.

  He took her to a quaint cafe with a beautiful view of the river. They were so engrossed in their conversation the waitress appeared by their table three times before they were ready to order. The meal was delicious and the companionship delightful.

  “You requested a relaxed evening,” he reminded her as they walked back to the buggy after the meal. “Although it is not proper etiquette, I intend to remove my jacket and shoes and walk barefoot through the sand, enjoying this beautiful view.”

  Izabella released his hand, ducked between two covered carriages, and removed her shoes and stockings. Returning to Stewart’s side, she was six inches shorter than his five-foot-eleven frame.

  “I’m afraid I shrunk,” she joked. “I’m accustomed to shoes giving me height.”

  He chuckled and then extended his hand. With the sun setting over the water, they walked hand in hand, their feet at the edge of the water. The moon rose and stars appeared in the clear sky. Mesmerized by the ambiance, Stewart stopped. Turning slightly, he looked into her eyes. His heart melted within her green eyes. A warm, tingling sensation consumed his body. Emotions and feelings that died with Natasha were surfacing, coming to life within him. Such a big leap for his heart, it was wonderful and terrifying all at the same time.

  “I haven’t kissed a woman since my wife,” Stewart confessed. My God! Hope is almost sixteen. Twelve years have passed since Natasha’s death. “A lifetime ago,” he admitted softly. “I’ve never had the desire, but standing in the twilight with the stars twinkling all around us….” He watched for a signal, afraid to rush her, hoping her emotions were as strong as his own. His heart began to pound. “Izabella Herrmann. May I kiss you?”

  “I find myself nervous, but taking this step will not be easier in a month, or a year.” She paused for a moment. “You may.”

  With his hands behind his back, Stewart leaned toward Izabella and brought his lips to hers. After a gentle contact, he pulled back slightly. He enjoyed that, more than he expected to. She didn’t open her eyes. Is she hoping for another? For more? With her breath on his face and his fingers trembling, he placed his fingertips on her round cheeks. Moistening his lips slightly, he captured her lips a second time. Savouring the sensation, he allowed the contact to last a little longer before pulling back. Opening his eyes, he glimpsed her tongue licking her lips, tasting his kiss. Pleased, he took a deep breath, put his arms loosely around her waist, and encouraged her forehead to rest against his chest.

  “That was nice,” she admitted. “Very pleasant. I informed your sister I’m ready, but I’m not certain I am.”

  This was a big step for him. It would be impossible to rush the relationship. He stepped back and looked into her eyes. “Don’t feel compelled to rush. I don’t want regrets.”

  “You must warn me ahead of time if you plan to kiss me. I’ll be cautious when I eat. I don’t want to discourage you with foul breath.”

  Stewart chuckled, appreciating her attempt to lighten the mood. “Spontaneity is best, but consider yourself warned. I enjoyed the kiss and may attempt another before we depart company.”

  Stewart took her hand in his. They walked back to the buggy and put their shoes back on. It was late when he took her home. She unlocked the door, lit an oil lantern, and placed it on the table on the front porch. She turned and gazed into his eyes.

  “My family is asking for the opportunity to make an acquaintance with the gentleman I’ve been speaking of.”

  “Are they as witty as you?”

  “The dry wit comes from my father. He’s worse than I.”

  “And your brother?”

  “He’s quieter, but my sister-in-law is outspoken.”

  “I’ve reached my mid-thirties and have yet to meet the parents of a woman I’m courting with serious intent. Should I ask permission to court you?” he questioned and then winked.

  “I believe it is too late for that.” She giggled. “Brodie has shown signs of approval. I’m under the impression your family trusts your dog’s judgment.”

  Stewart chuckled, nodding. “They do. Brodie’s a wise dog. I must depart. Goodnight, Izabella.”

  * * *

  The evening with her family went well. Stewart shared a glass of wine with Izabella’s father while he spoke of his family and his business. By the end of the evening, Izabella’s mother extended an invitation for dinner on the following Saturday evening that included Hope.

  * * *

  The following morning, Stewart was drinking his coffee when he heard shuffling near the stairs. Looking up, Hope entered the dining room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  “Good morning, sweetheart.”

  “Good morning, Poppa.” She kissed his cheek and then yawned.

  “You, my dear have been invited to join Iza
bella and me for dinner with her parents on Saturday evening. Izabella’s niece will be there with her parents, so you will have an opportunity to become acquainted.”

  That comment kept the chatter continuous throughout the week. Hope was looking forward to it.

  With vivid memories of Hope’s reaction to meeting Jane in his mind, Stewart turned to his daughter as they journeyed to Izabella’s.

  “I expect to see my well-behaved but spunky daughter this afternoon and evening. I expect to see the daughter I know and love.”

  Arriving, they were greeted by Izabella’s niece. Within the hour, Hope returned to her father’s side.

  “Are you not well?” he whispered quietly in her ear.

  “I’m well, but we will not be chums.”

  “I was hopeful for a cordial relationship, but am not surprised that will not happen,” Izabella admitted, keeping her voice to a low whisper. “The girls possess very different personalities. My niece is spoiled.”

  * * *

  When Hope began accepting invitations to dine from more young men, Stewart met the young suitors who arrived at on the door. Ralph impressed him the most. The young man was pleasant and sincere. To Stewart’s dismay that young man never appeared at the door again. The succession that followed was a mix of pleasant young men, and some that made him question Hope’s values. He was grateful when those gentlemen disappeared as quickly as they entered. When she returned home from an evening out with one young suitor, Stewart met her at the door.

  “How was your evening?”

  As if routine, she scrunched her nose.

  “That’s pleasing to see. You must inform me if you agree to step out with someone special. I’ll make an effort to become better acquainted.”