Chapter Eight
Two days later, Blake lifted his foot from the pedal on the belt sander and ran a hand along the baby-soft walnut. The routine task of smoothing the back piece for a settee cleared his mind for thoughts of Gianna. The intriguing woman burst into his awareness with such passion and fire. When he learned the reason for her distress about the missing olive oil, he’d been quite touched over her wish to gift the household. At the point the sander’s noise stopped filling the air, he turned toward Axton. “Almost an entire day has gone by and you haven’t said a word about Gianna.”
Axton straightened from where he stained a set of table legs. He lowered the handkerchief from his nose and mouth. “She’s sure a lady the likes of which I’ve never met.”
His brother’s words rolled through his mind. How am I to take that? “Do you mean it in a good way or a bad one?”
A grin spread on Axton’s lips. “Good, of course. She’s spirited and smiles a lot. I might not understand her ways…” He chuckled. “Or all of her words, but she’s fresh like when the winds come down from the Front Range and clear the air of dust.”
An apt description he’d entertained himself. Blake blew out a breath. “I think so, too.” The only rough spot was the presence of her friend. As of this morning, that irritant no longer lingered in Pueblo. “What I didn’t expect was Mother’s rudeness.”
Axton snorted. “That’s because you went loopy every time a letter from Chicago arrived and were unaware of anything around you. Didn’t you ever notice Mother’s glower at the sight of an envelope with that precise handwriting?”
Blake braced his hands on his thighs. “For months, she harangued me about getting married. And now she’s not happy that I’m getting acquainted with a wonderful woman.” He thought of her shiny brunette hair, flashing brown eyes, and warm, welcoming smile. She embodied the word joy, and he’d never met anyone like Gianna.
With a small hammer, Axton tapped the lid back onto the can of stain. “But you didn’t accept one of her special picks.”
Standing to carry the wood piece to a rack, he shook his head. “Would you?”
“No, but I’m not the one with an almost-fiancée visiting Pueblo. We’re talking about the man who has become the face of the Wymer business. You know Mother thinks of us as among the premier families in this town.”
“I don’t know how I can be any clearer about my feelings. The local women don’t interest me. Gianna is who I want.” He pulled out his pocket watch from his trousers pocket. “And I have to hurry to go collect her for supper.”
“Go on.” Axton waved a hand. “I’ll clean up in here.”
Twenty minutes later, Blake waited for Gianna to meet him in the lobby. Tonight, he vowed to spend some time together alone. He just hadn’t figured out how to manage that without damaging her reputation. Whisper-light footsteps on the carpet drew his attention. The woman walking across the lobby was one he recognized, but this evening, she looked so different. Her wavy hair flowed loosely over her shoulders. Instead of a matching suit, she wore a floral shirtwaist and a dark skirt. This more-relaxed look drew the attention of the clerk behind the desk and a man reading the newspaper in the corner armchair.
Blake started forward and met her in the center, hoping for the same greeting as he received at the train depot. Feeling her warm skin against his cheeks, he closed his eyes to focus on the pair of kisses. Lavender hung in the air, and he inhaled. Being this close made him want to steal her away and keep her all to himself. “Good evening, Gianna. You look lovely.”
“Grazie. Molly told me I should try harder to fit in.”
“Molly?” He ran through the names of shop owners she had already visited and where she might have gone today and came up blank.
“The maid who cleans my hotel room.”
He reached for her left hand and settled it in the crook of his right arm. “You’ve made friends with the maid?” He headed them toward the double door.
“We had a nice…come se dice?” She waved a hand in front of her body. “The word for when two people talk together.”
“Chat?” He guessed.
She clapped her hands. “Exactly. We chatted this afternoon. And she had some good advice.”
On the five-minute drive, he enjoyed listening to her excited recounting of her day with a foreign word slipping in once and a while. Her voice, with its unique cadence, sifted through his ears and settled inside his chest. After their correspondence that stretched longer than he wished due to hiring a new governess, he knew with a certainty they were well-matched. Having this woman at his side made him happy.
He clicked his tongue and turned Maisie into the driveway. After tying off the reins, he turned to Gianna. “Before we go inside, I need to share this information.” Light filtered through the parlor’s window and backlit her head. “Mother has been attempting to set me up with specific women in this town. I’ve refused them all, which angered her.” He cupped his hands around hers and squeezed. “Because from the time I read your first letter, I have been interested in no one other than you, Gianna Rafaello. Please keep those words in mind as we progress through the evening.”
She blinked fast. “Words of such dolcezza. Grazie. They will help me keep a smile turned toward your mother.”
Over the next hour, Blake enjoyed watching and listening as Gianna answered various questions about being a governess. Mother’s tone remained conversational. After what happened two nights ago, could she be softening toward Gianna? He took a bite of potatoes and wondered when he had allowed Mother’s grieving to overshadow his own decision-making. Missing his father would always live in a corner of his heart. But Dad would never expect any of them to be stuck in the past.
Gianna stared across the table and tilted her head.
“Oh, did I miss something?” He leaned forward.
“I asked if I could see your workshop again. I’m fascinated by all the machines you use.”
Blake pushed back his chair. “I’d be happy to. Axton, swap me drying duty?”
“Sure.” Axton waved a hand toward the doorway.
Blake rounded the table to pull out Gianna’s chair. “Thank you, Mother, for another wonderful meal.”
Gianna nodded. “I appreciate being included with your family.”
Once he exited the kitchen, he paused at the bench on the back porch to strike a match to the lantern’s wick. “The path is a bit bumpy.” He reached for her hand. “Let me guide you.” Although the sky over the Front Range presented a swirl of blue and violet, the lantern’s glow was needed at ground level.
She accepted the handclasp and followed.
Inside the workshop, he carried the lantern to the center of the workbench, then turned to the closest machine. “This is a lathe and is used to—?
“Blake, I might have told a little fib. But it was for the very best of reasons.” She smiled and stepped closer. “What I really intended was to see if you wanted to play some darts.”
“Darts?” He jerked back a step. Her lavender scent enticed. “Really?”
“Don’t you think I can play?”
Who am I to judge?Maybe people in Chicago played this game most often available in saloons. “Gianna, I didn’t mean to sound so surprised.” He moved to the bench and lifted the darts. “Here are your three.”
She stepped up to the Oche and took aim, drawing back her hand.
He saw immediately that her grip wouldn’t create a straight toss, but he didn’t correct her. Curiosity about this woman who looked and acted so refined and who would play his favorite game kept his gaze riveted on her face.
In her concentration, she stuck the tip of her pink tongue between her shapely lips.
The dart missed the board and lodged into the wall below it.
Frowning, she stared at her fingers and moved the pointer closer to the tip.
The second throw scored ten points, and the third earned her fifteen.
“Not bad.”
“You’re too nice.” She glared at the board. “At Molly’s, I could hit all three.”
“Molly’s?” The name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t match it to a known face.
“Remember I told you Molly is the maid who cleans my hotel room? I went to her house, and she taught me on Sean’s board.” Her gaze dropped away, and she nibbled on her lower lip.
Asking who this Sean was pushed to the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t speak the question. Instead, he focused on the reason for this sudden interest. Blake stepped in front of her, his throat tight. “You learned how to play darts just today? Why?”
“To have an activity we can do together.” She tapped a finger on the workbench, fingernail picking at a deep gouge. “Because I wished for the sharing I felt when we wrote to one another.”
Blake moved closer, inhaling her lavender scent. He crooked a finger and gently lifted her chin so he could look into her dark eyes. The long gaze connected them like when they’d revealed their deepest thoughts in their letters. He missed that. “Do you know how endearing your action is?”
Gianna grinned, the color rising high in her cheeks. “Molly said it would work.”
“You asked a maid about relationships?”
A shoulder lifted, then dropped. “She wore a wedding ring, so I thought she might have tips.”
A laugh welled up from his belly. Unable to resist, he embraced her and held tight, almost not believing he could be this lucky. At first, her body went stiff. Then, she inched her arms up his chest and looped them around his neck. Finally, her body molded to his in sweet surrender. Defying logic, he felt the rapid beating of her heart, and his echoed in kind.
He loosened his hold enough to look at her face as he spoke what were probably the most important words of his life. “Gianna, I don’t need any more time. Every day will reveal more about all facets of you. But through the months of our correspondence, these few days of being together, and right now with this fullness in my heart, I’ve come to love you, Gianna. You are unique and precious and have touched my soul. I want to spend the rest of my days at your side. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Her gaze shifted between his eyes, slowly becoming shiny. Nodding, she bounced on her toes. “Sì, sì. Sono cosi felice. Ti amo, il mio amore.” Tears welled in her eyes.
Closing his eyes, he leaned down until he touched their foreheads together. “I didn’t understand a single word, but I hope what I heard was your agreement.” He brushed his lips on the end of her nose. “Because I’m greedy, I want the words. Can you repeat them in English, please?”
“Yes, if I can remember what tumbled from my mouth. I said, I am so happy.” She eased back and cupped a hand on his face. “And I said, I love you, my love.” A smile widened her lips and lit up her eyes.
The words he’d waited to hear wrapped around his heart and squeezed. “Your language is beautiful, and I would like to learn how to speak it.”
Smiling, she tilted her head. “I happen to be a very good insegnante and could teach you.”
Blake stared at her shapely pink lips before he dipped his head. Her breath whispered against his mouth. “I look forward to us teaching each other so many things. Especially this.” He closed the distance and got his first taste of her soft sweetness. The hesitant trembling and stiff way she held her head surprised him. Bold in her beliefs, Gianna embraced life, squeezing out the enjoyment. So, why not share her passion? Then the reality hit, and his pulse raced. The thought swirled in his head, making him almost drunk.
I’m the first to kiss her.
The moment was so special. Gianna was like a piece of unshaped wood with hidden veins and whorls ready to be discovered. He cupped her jaw and ran his thumbs over the roundness of her cheeks. This face he’d gazed upon for days but hadn’t been ready to touch. “Look at me, sweetheart.” He waited, knowing his words needed a moment to sink in.
Her eyes slowly blinked open. “What? Did I do it wrong?”
“No, love. I did.” Moving his right hand, he traced her mouth with the tip of a forefinger. “If I realized this was your first kiss, I would have started differently.”
“We can do this in more than one way?” A smile teased her lips.
Oh, this teaching will be so much fun. “Tilt your head a little to the left.” He trailed his hand from her mouth over her chin and down to her neck. With his thumb, he traced its length, then skimmed his fingers along her hairline.
She shivered, and her eyes drifted closed.
Blake angled his head and inched it downward so his breath fanned over her mouth before he gave her the lightest brush of a kiss. Opening his eyes, he waited for her reaction.
Her lips pursed, and she stretched her chin upward.
Mine. Tightening his embrace, he settled his mouth over hers, nibbling at her softness and coaxing a response. Feeling her press back, he smiled. From that second, the kiss became so much more as they explored and learned what brought pleasure. What Blake knew was, no matter how different their backgrounds were, this woman was his future.
I will never let her go.