Ilsa (Pendleton Petticoats Book 3)

by Shanna Hatfield

  Glad she could carry a tune, Ilsa loudly belted out the song as she approached the pigpen. The beasts just stared at her until she dumped the scraps then went about their eating without looking her direction. Slowly backing away from their grunting and smacking, she sang about Casey waltzing the strawberry blonde as she turned around to find all the hands watching her.

  Garrett was the first to start laughing and the rest followed suit.

  Indignant, she tossed the scrap bucket at him and ran back to the house.

  He apologized as soon as he stopped laughing and she forgave him, realizing he wouldn’t tease her so if he didn’t like her. From then on, she’d accepted his teasing and he’d not embarrassed her in front of the hands again.

  “Maybe I should make you sing something to redeem yourself.” Ilsa gave Garrett a jaunty grin.

  “What would you like me to sing?” Garrett asked, leaning back in his chair.

  “How about The Fountain in the Park?” Ilsa suggested, hoping Garrett would sing the lively song. She knew from attending church with him that he could sing, she just didn’t know if he would.

  “While strolling in the park one day,” Garrett began singing. “In the merry month of May…” He got to his feet, pulling Aundy up with him and waltzing her around the room while he sang.

  When he finished, he took a bow, kissed Aundy’s cheeks, and smiled at Ilsa.

  “That makes up for the pigs.” Ilsa clapped her hands enthusiastically. “You sing exceptionally well.”

  “So do you,” Garrett said. Although Aundy claimed to have no musical talent, Ilsa had a lovely voice, when she chose to use it.

  “Thank you, kind sir.” Ilsa nodded her head at Garrett then carried their bowls and glasses to the sink. “Now if you’ll both pardon me, I’m going to bed and may sleep until Thanksgiving.”

  “Good night, Ilsa.” Aundy gave her a warm hug. “Sleep well.”

  “I will. Good night to you both and thanks for the song, Garrett.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Ilsa waltzed down the hall to her room, humming the catchy tune Garrett sang, while her thoughts lingered on one handsome Italian ice deliveryman.

  Chapter Nine

  “I’m going to die.”

  “No, you aren’t,” Aundy said, nudging Ilsa in the side with her elbow. While Ilsa turned the handle to agitate the laundry in the washer, Aundy ran the clean clothes through a wringer and tossed them in a basket, ready to hang on the clothesline. “I promise you will not die today from helping me do the laundry.”

  “How can you stand to do this day in and day out?” Ilsa asked, aware that she was whining. Although it was barely past eight in the morning, the air was stifling and muggy. Sweat trickled down her back and chest, as well as along her forehead.

  She lifted one of the clean handkerchiefs Aundy had just placed in a basket and wrapped it around her head to keep the perspiration from dripping into her eyes.

  Aundy chuckled and shook her head. “We’ll make a farm woman out of you yet, little city girl.”

  “Go right ahead and laugh. I’m too hot to care.” Ilsa unfastened the top two buttons on the old calico dress Aundy had given her to wear. She shortened the hem and took in the sides, but it still looked like she was wearing a tent unless she kept an apron tied over the top of it.

  Glancing down at the faded yellow dress and up at the bright blue cloth tied around her head, she began giggling. “I never thought I’d see the day when I would look like this.” Ilsa swept a hand grandly in front of her.

  “Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” Aundy quipped, then joined Ilsa in a fit of giggles.

  The two of them were carrying on so loudly, they didn’t hear Tony approach with their ice delivery or notice him standing on the steps watching them.

  “If doing laundry is so much fun, maybe I should give up the ice business and join some of the Chinese in the Underground.”

  “Tony! What are you doing out here so early?” Aundy asked, stopping the washing machine and wiping her hands on her apron. “Come on in.”

  Ilsa wanted to slink around the corner of the house and hide. Of all the people to catch her looking like a pauper’s wife, it would have to be Tony Campanelli.

  Hastily yanking the handkerchief from her head, Ilsa bit back a yelp when she pulled her hair in the process. Flustered and humiliated, she discreetly watched Tony carry a big block of ice into the house. Following him to the door, she admired the muscles visible beneath the thin fabric of his shirt as he set the ice on the counter for Aundy and broke it into smaller chunks that would fit in the refrigerator.

  “Are you getting caught up on your orders?” Aundy asked, pouring Tony a glass of lemonade and adding a few pieces of the ice.

  “I’m trying to. If Nik wants to make a little extra money, I’d be happy to hire him for a day or two. I could use an extra set of hands,” Tony said, gratefully accepting the plate of cookies Aundy set in front of him when he took a seat at the table.

  “It’s our fault you’re behind, so you don’t need to pay him. I’ll see if he can pull himself away from the sheep and go with you today.” Aundy grinned at her sister and rushed out the door.

  “Well, little miss chickadee, don’t you look like a songbird, all blue and yellow this morning,” Tony teased, studying Ilsa from the braided hair pinned around the top of her head to the tips of her dusty shoes.

  “I’ll thank you not to comment on my current state of attire,” she said, filling a glass with water and sitting down across from Tony with a huff of annoyance. It was bad enough to be caught dressed as she was, but a gentleman wouldn’t comment on her unkempt state.

  “It looks like you’ve been working hard this morning.” Tony took another cookie and bit into it, chewing slowly.

  “We got behind on the laundry. Aundy wanted to finish it before it got too hot, but to be honest, I feel like someone opened the door to Hades and blasted the air our direction.”

  Tony almost choked on the cookie he was eating. After taking a long drink of his lemonade, he managed to wash it down then stared at Ilsa before he started chuckling.

  “That’s quite a sense of humor you possess, chickadee. What else are you keeping hidden?”

  “Maybe I’m a woman of great mystery and you’ll just have to wait and see.” Ilsa felt more unsettled than ever before as Tony gazed at her with his warm eyes and tempting grin.

  “I intend to.” Tony stretched his hand across the top of the table until he captured hers, relishing the feel of her small, soft fingers pressed against his callused palm. “Why don’t we start unraveling the mystery after church Sunday? Will you accompany me on a picnic?”

  “I … um… maybe it’s best if we…” Ilsa wanted to say yes, but knew it wasn’t the wisest choice she could make.

  “I agree. It’s best if we go right after church.” Tony smirked at her before draining his glass of lemonade. “I’ll take care of everything. You just be ready for a fun afternoon.”

  Before Ilsa could protest, Nik rushed inside the kitchen, excited at the prospect of going with Tony.

  “Aundy said I get to spend the day helping you with deliveries. Are you ready to go?”

  “Sure am,” Tony said, thanking Aundy for the cookies and lemonade as she walked in the kitchen. He turned his penetrating gaze to Ilsa and started to say something, but the sound of the kitten mewling interrupted him.

  He walked over to the basket near the stove and squatted down. “Another orphan, Nik?” he asked, turning to look at the boy who knelt beside him. Everyone knew Nik would take in any needy creature he found, often with Aundy’s encouragement.

  “Yep. Dent and Li didn’t want him in the bunkhouse so I’m keeping him here. Ilsa took care of him for me last night,” Nik said, picking up the kitten while Aundy poured milk in a saucer and set it on the floor.

  Nik held the kitten’s face close to the milk and carefully dipped his finger in the liquid, rubbing it against the little animal’s mouth.
It didn’t take long for it to begin greedily lapping the milk.

  “Did he keep you up last night?”

  “He didn’t bother me, but I’m not sure Ilsa got a lot of rest. She took the kitten to her room so he wouldn’t keep Garrett awake,” Aundy said, watching the tiny ball of fur.

  “I had to feed him a couple of times. It will be much easier now if he continues to drink out of the saucer.” Ilsa sat on the floor by Nik and rubbed her finger over the cat. She remembered having two kittens when she was a little girl, but when they moved to a new apartment, the cats didn’t come along. She hadn’t thought about that in years.

  “Aundy, remember the cats we had when we were young?” she asked her sister. “Whatever happened to them?”

  “I believe Dad saw his opportunity to get rid of the pesky beasts and made sure they stayed behind when we moved. They were awful cats, mean and lazy. I can’t say I was sorry to leave them behind at the old apartment. You were the only one who liked them, and I think that was partly because they’d sit on your lap and let you pet them for as long as you liked. The one time I tried, the big gray one, the one Dad called Mule, bit my finger then clawed my leg. What made you think of them?”

  “Oh, just seeing this kitten. I haven’t been around any kind of pets or animals since we moved and left behind Mule and Toad.”

  “No wonder they were ill-behaved. Who wouldn’t be with names like that?” Tony asked, fighting his desire to run his fingers along Ilsa’s smooth cheek and kiss those pink lips. Her fragrance enveloped him as she sat next to him on the floor and it was almost more than he could take.

  “Well, Nik, ice waits for no man, so we better get on the road,” Tony said, getting to his feet.

  Ilsa continued to sit on the floor, watching the kitten, although she did spare Tony a smile as he walked to the door.

  “Thank you, ladies. If I don’t see you before, I’ll see you Sunday at church.” Tony tipped his hat and hurried out the door with Nik right behind him.

  “Ice might wait for no man, but the laundry waits for no woman. Come on, Ilsa. We’ve got more clothes to wash and get on the line.” Aundy held her hand out to her sister. “I think the kitten will be fine for a while. Just stick him back in his basket.”

  Ilsa wiped the kitten’s dripping chin on the hem of her apron and tenderly rubbed his head before setting him back in his basket. She followed Aundy to the back porch and resumed working on the laundry.

  Both of them rubbed their lower backs and stretched tired muscles when the last sheet hung in glistening white glory on the clothesline.

  “As hot as it is today, the clothes will be dry in no time. It’s much too stifling to iron this afternoon, so let’s go out to the orchard and see if we can find some more peaches to make a pie,” Aundy said. She snatched two baskets from the back porch and looped her arm through Ilsa’s as they walked out to where a variety of fruit trees grew in a small orchard. A bramble of berries grew close to the bank of the nearby creek and Ilsa could see the bushes were loaded with plump, juicy blackberries.

  “Let’s pick the berries,” Ilsa said, reaching out to pick one before Aundy could stop her. A sharp thorn pricked her finger, drawing blood. She popped her finger in her mouth and sucked on the spot.

  “You have to be really careful when you pick them or you’ll end up poked full of holes.” Aundy showed Ilsa how to pick the fruit without touching a thorn.

  “Maybe I’ll let you pick berries while I pick peaches,” Ilsa said, turning to study the peach trees. The fruit that appeared ripe required the use of a ladder to reach it. Although she wasn’t afraid of heights, the thought of climbing up and balancing on the ladder, while holding the basket and removing fruit from a branch, seemed daunting.

  “Help me fill this basket then we’ll work on the peaches.” Aundy motioned for Ilsa to step closer to the berry bushes. With both of them working, it didn’t take long to have a basket full of the sweet purple fruit. Aundy set the basket beneath the peach tree, then moved the ladder so she could climb up to reach a limb loaded with ripe fruit.

  “What types of trees do you have?” Ilsa asked, gazing into the branches of nearby trees while Aundy climbed the ladder. She could see what appeared to be apples in the tree closest to her and she thought she saw one that looked like it might have pears.

  “There are apple and pear, peach, cherry, and the two walnut trees. It won’t be long before we need to get busy with canning,” Aundy said, quickly filling the basket with big, beautiful peaches and handing it down to Ilsa.

  As she stretched to reach the basket, the ladder wobbled. Aundy screeched as it started to tip sideways.

  Ilsa grabbed the basket and jumped back. Her feet tangled in her skirt and she plopped down on her backside on top of a rotten peach, the basket clutched tightly to her chest.

  The ladder toppled over, leaving Aundy clinging to a branch with twigs poking into the braid wound around her head.

  “Well, that grand finale to our picking foray wasn’t exactly how I envisioned it,” Aundy said with a hint of humor in her voice. She decided she wouldn’t break any bones if she dropped from the branch to the ground. Carefully lowering herself so she hung by her hands, she let go and landed on her feet. She executed a regal bow, looked at Ilsa and giggled. “I know I’ve got parts of the tree stuck in my hair, but how did you get blackberries smeared across your face?” Aundy pointed to the purple smudges across Ilsa’s pale skin.

  “I don’t know, but I’m about finished with your adventures for the day.” Ilsa handed Aundy the basket of peaches then got to her feet. Brushing her hand at the back of her skirt, she dislodged clumps of the smashed peach and shook her head. “I’m just not cut out for all this rural entertainment you continue to provide.”

  “You’re doing just fine.” Aundy handed Ilsa the basket of berries before starting back toward the house.

  As they walked past the bunkhouse, Li waved at them with a big grin. “Missy and little Missy, you supposed to pick the fruities, no wear them.”

  “Is that right?” Aundy gave Li a broad smile and plucked a few more leaves from her hair, tossing them his direction. “We had a little mishap with the ladder.”

  “Yes,” Li laughed as he pointed to them. “Little Missy sit in her basket? No squash the peaches. Eat them.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind for future reference.” Ilsa rolled her eyes as she grinned at Li. Aundy’s Chinese cook didn’t talk a lot, but he did like to tease as well as any of the other men on the place when the situation presented itself. “Thank you for pointing that out.”

  “Most welcome, little Missy.” Li nodded his head and disappeared back in the bunkhouse.

  “I’m not sure if I should be insulted or complimented he calls me little Missy,” Ilsa said as she followed Aundy up the steps to the kitchen door.

  “Definitely complimented.” Aundy held the door for Ilsa. “If anyone should be insulted it’s me. If you’re little Missy, then that makes me big Missy, doesn’t it?”

  “Well, you are quite a bit taller than Li and several of the hands, too,” Ilsa pointed out. Aundy had always been self-conscious about her height and size. Although their father often told her she resembled their Viking ancestors and should be proud, Ilsa was pleased her sister finally accepted herself. If Lars grew up to look like their father, he would be a big, tall man as well.

  “Before I get squished peaches all over, I’m going to change,” Ilsa said, setting the blackberries on the counter and glancing at the kitten. He was asleep, so she hurried to her room and put on a clean dress. It was another of the three calico dresses Aundy gave her to wear around the farm. This one was a berry color, which seemed appropriate since she’d no doubt have berry stains on it by the time she finished helping Aundy wash the peaches and berries.

  Aundy rolled out piecrust when Ilsa returned to the kitchen. Her sister tipped her head toward the counter where the baskets of fruit waited. “If you can rinse the fruit, it won’t take long to get
these pies in the oven then we can start dinner.”

  Barely holding back a sigh, Ilsa picked up a peach and ran it under the water from the faucet before setting it aside. While Aundy peeled and sliced them, Ilsa washed the berries and put them in a bowl, mixing them with sugar and a bit of flour, under Aundy’s guidance.

  If she had to make a pie on her own, Ilsa would never be able to do it, but if all she had to do was follow Aundy’s direction, she could manage.

  “What did you mean earlier about canning?” Ilsa asked, recalling Aundy’s conversation from the orchard.

  “We preserve as much of the fruit and vegetables as possible. I already put up the cherries and some of the early peaches, but we’ll need to do the rest of the peaches, pick all the berries and then get going on the garden produce before the apples and pears ripen. It takes a lot of work to make sure we have enough food for the winter.”

  “Don’t you get tired of this?” Ilsa waved a berry-coated spoon around the kitchen for emphasis. “You work all day, so hard, and have no time for rest, no time for enjoyment. It’s just work, work, work. Don’t you wish you could take a day off and do nothing?”

  “That’s what we do on Sundays,” Aundy said, crimping the edge of the crust on the peach pie before sliding it in the oven.

  “Even then, you still have chores you do. Why don’t you hire some domestic help?” With the kind of money Garrett made from the wheat crop, they could certainly afford a housekeeper or cook, or both.

  “I’m more than capable of taking care of my own home and fixing my husband’s meals. You just happened to arrive at one of our busiest times of year. Once harvest is past and the canning is completed, things aren’t quite so hectic,” Aundy explained, spooning berries into a crust-lined pan and adding the top crust.

  “It’s not like you couldn’t afford the help, or to buy whatever food you need,” Ilsa said, watching Aundy seal the edges of the crust and slide the pan in the oven with the peach pie. “I had no idea farming was such a lucrative enterprise.”