Into the Whirlwind Quotes

“Why are you so angry at me?” she asked. The question ratcheted him even closer to the boiling point. “Because for some insane reason, I adore you. For three solid years I have thought you were the closest thing to perfection on this earth, and I can’t watch you risk your life crossing that bridge!” Had she understood correctly? After all these years of cold decorum, Zack’s eyes glittered in a face streaked with soot and sweat as he stepped closer, shouting over the roar of wind and fire. “I’ve been insane about you since the moment you waltzed into my office three years ago in that ridiculous suit and your hair as prim as a schoolmarm,” he shouted. “Don’t you dare get yourself killed on me now!”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“And why is that?” he asked softly. “Because you don’t scare me anymore.” She placed her other hand on his chest. “You used to intimidate me down to my toes, but since the fire, everything is different. I can be myself around you. Flaws and all.” “You don’t have any flaws.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“Why did the two of you fight so much?” “We fought plenty, but I always respected him.” “But why all the arguing? The nitpicking? It always seemed strange to me.” It would. He smiled and turned his face to the sky. For all her practical, level-headed business sense, Mollie didn’t understand much about men. “Sometimes men just like to argue,” he said simply. “We like the competition. We sniff out the opposition, measure it up, challenge it. Frank never backed down. Even though he was blind, Frank was still a man, and when I came on the scene, I think he immediately sensed my interest in you. Long before you ever did.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“I can’t go through you walking out on me again,” he said. “I’ve got skin tougher than a rhinoceros hide, but I’ve always been a big weakling when it comes to you. If you want back into my life, it has to be for good this time.” “For better or for worse, for richer or poorer . . . is that what you mean?” “Till death do us part. Yeah, that’s what I’m getting at.” Her face was beautiful and shining and confident. “That’s what I want too.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“If Colonel Lowe doesn’t treat you like a goddess, he’ll have me to answer to,” he said gruffly. She mustered a little laugh. “Please, no basket of fish on his desk.” “Trust me, I’ll be far more creative if he hurts you.” The diamond powder weighed in his hands. “You will want this,” he said as he extended the sack to her. “Zack, I don’t want any gifts.” He picked up her hand and pressed it into her palm. “It’s diamond powder. I heard you were in short supply, and Caleb Magruder has a mill that can produce it.” Her eyes widened in surprise, and she peeked inside. It looked as if she was about to cry as she pulled the drawstrings closed. “Zack, I can’t accept this. It wouldn’t be right.” “Take it. What would I do with diamond powder?” He tried to sound light-hearted, as if this glorious woman had not just trampled on the dreams he had been building for three years. She still looked hesitant, which was insane because he knew she craved that diamond powder like a drowning man craved a life raft. He sighed impatiently. “If you don’t take it, I’ll throw it in the lake. You know I will.” She must have believed him, because she relented and accepted the gift. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “Thank you for everything, Zack.” “You deserve it,” he said bluntly. “I’ve never seen anyone work as hard as you.” “Don’t be nice to me,” she said. “I’ll start bawling like a watering pot if you do.” His hand looked big and clumsy against her delicate cheek. He was such a sap where this woman was concerned. Had been from the first time he ever clapped eyes on her. “Don’t shed any tears over me. I’m not worth it.” He had to get out of there before he made a complete fool of himself. Before he fell to his knees and begged her not to fling herself at a man who would never feel a fraction of the soaring love he had for her. Stepping aside and letting Richard Lowe court his woman made his gut tie itself into knots, but it had to be done.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“Don’t you have any pride?” she snapped. He blanched, but she was too angry to stop. “You’re like a stray dog I can’t get rid of. I want nothing to do with you. Not with your business, not with you. Just go away. Please, just go and stay away.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“Mollie, tell me what happened. I haven’t slept in two days.” “Guilty conscience?” “Yes!” he bellowed. “I never should have let you stay in that church so long! I wish I’d thrown you over my shoulder and dragged you to my house that first night.” He tried to wrap his arms around her, but a stiff arm kept him at bay. The expression in her eyes was even worse. “For pity’s sake, talk to me. Scream at me, hit me . . . just quit glaring like that.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“Let’s go for a walk, Mollie.” Frank Spencer stiffened, but Mollie’s annoying lawyer spoke in a calm voice. “They say that when a wolf wants to lead a sheep to slaughter, he’ll try to cut her off from the herd where he can do his worst in private.” There was snickering around the firelight as the entire herd moved in to protect the object of his affections. With the grinning faces of several men gloating at him, it would be impossible to sneak Mollie away. Zack turned to her with a pleasant smile on his face. “You know how in mythology the blind man is always the source of great wisdom and insight? Why couldn’t you find one of those blind guys to be friends with?” Frank appeared flattered by the statement. He grinned as he warmed his hands before the brazier.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“Listen, Mollie, I need to get home and let my parents know I’m alive. Then I am coming back for you. If my home is still standing, I’ll provide a place for you and Frank as long as you need.” “Why would you do that?” She looked a little taken aback, which surprised him. Because he loved her. Because they had just experienced the worst two days imaginable, and the bond that had been forged between them was not something to be tossed away. If Louis Hartman didn’t like it, he would quit. The fire had just taught Zack what was most important in this world, and she was looking straight at him.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“He couldn’t believe his ears. She was rambling on about nonsense, and he needed to put a stop to it. “I don’t want to change you—” She cut him off. “From the day you came to the workshop, you told me I should sell the company and go to the south of France to celebrate. That I should wear my hair down and quit being a howling mass of anxiety. Zack, I don’t want to go to the south of France. I want to turn the clock back and reconstruct my life exactly as it was before the fire. I want my workshop back. I want to make watches and know what is on the schedule for the next day, next month, next year. I need order and stability.” His fist clenched around the leather sack. She was trying to cut him out of her life, and he wouldn’t let her. “And what about Colonel Lowe?” he demanded. “Is Colonel Lowe among the things you want?” She stiffened and couldn’t meet his eyes. “Richard means a lot to me,” she said softly. Richard. So he wasn’t even Colonel Lowe to her. A wave of heat crashed through his body, and he wanted to break something. He stood and stalked a few feet closer to the lake. He couldn’t bear to sit beside Mollie while she talked about another man, but she hadn’t stopped speaking. “Richard and I are very much alike,” she said. “I feel . . . safe with him. I don’t need to change to suit him.” “I don’t want to change you,” he said through clenched teeth. Where did she get these insane ideas? He could feel her slipping away from him, like water dribbling out of his cupped hands, and there was nothing he could do to stop it from draining away. “Please let me go,” she said. “I need to move on with the rest of my life, and I can’t do that with you in it. The notes need to stop. And the visits. I will be forever grateful for what you did for me on the night of the fire, but, Zack . . . that’s all there is. It was gratitude and the temporary rush of insanity because I was glad to be alive. You and I will never work.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“Mollie?” He placed his hand on her shoulder, willing her to look at him. “Mollie, let’s go someplace where we can talk,” he said gently. Her entire body stiffened. “I’ve got work to do,” she mumbled. Was it his imagination or did she inch a little closer to the blond man beside her? Zack grasped her elbow and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Mollie, get your backside off that stool and come outside with me. I’ll buy you a pretzel, and you can tan my hide for being late.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“There is something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she said as she handed Zack a bratwurst. It was a little awkward, but if Zack was the man she was going to marry, she needed to know what she was getting into. “Yes?” “That story about the fish. Is it true?” Zack’s grin was roguish. “I don’t know. What have you heard?” “Something about a hundred pounds of fish dumped on a merchant’s fancy desk. Is it true?” Zack took a large bite of his sausage and watched her through laughing eyes as he chewed. How could she consort with a man with such a shocking reputation? She was a safety-and-security girl, and Zack was an untamed force of nature. He finished chewing and sent her a wicked grin. “It was trout,” he said proudly. “And we’ve never had substandard fish palmed off on us since.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“His insane gamble of granting Mollie breathing room with Colonel Lowe had finally paid off. Mollie had had the chance to know both men, and she had made her choice. She’d come back to him, and she wasn’t leaving again.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“I am safe with you. I can be myself and make mistakes, and I know you’ll forgive me. You’ve already done so time and again.” She walked to him, and when he tried to turn away, she grabbed his shoulders and forced him to look at her. “I remember when you came to visit me at the church. I was hungry and dirty and didn’t even have a roof over my head, but when you were with me the world was perfect. And I was happy. I had a sense of purpose and belonging with you by my side. There isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“She was rejecting him because she would never be comfortable trying to live up to the legendary glory of Colonel Richard Lowe. She just wanted to make her clocks and watches and have a man who loved her, imperfections and all. A man who clung to a stained, scorched scarf because he thought it perfect.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“Zack drew alongside her, leaning down to murmur in her ear. “Mollie, I’m not leaving you again. If the city burns to the ground for a second time. If an earthquake splits the land in two or a plague saps us dry . . . I am not leaving. I’ll show up at your doorstep every morning and every evening for the rest of the year if that’s what it takes.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“While she tugged on her gloves, Richard reached behind her to pull her hood up over her head. He was smiling as he tied the strings loosely beneath her chin. “We need to find you someplace a little more hospitable to stay,” he said warmly. Mollie gazed up at him. “It’s not so bad. I have everything I really need.” “Mollie, I want to give you the world.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“Of course, I think Colonel Lowe will be happy to become a permanent fixture in Chicago if it means he can stay around Mollie. I’ve never seen a man so awestruck.” His head shot up. “Has he been pestering Mollie?” Zack demanded. Dr. Buchanan had just shoveled a huge bite of makowiec loaf into his mouth, and Zack’s blood began pounding through his system. Why had he been so blind to overlook what would happen when eighteen able-bodied men showed up on Mollie’s doorstep? He’d been letting Mollie lick her wounds in private, but what kind of idiot abandoned her when there were plenty of strapping young men there to take her mind off things? Dr. Buchanan finished eating and wiped his mouth. “I don’t think pester is the right word, although not an hour goes by that he isn’t paying her compliments. Yesterday, Colonel Lowe brought her a basket of oranges, although where he got oranges at this time of year is anyone’s guess.” Zack narrowed his eyes. “Why would Mollie be interested in some old man?” “Colonel Lowe isn’t an old man. I’d guess he’s about your age. Thirty-four, maybe thirty-six. And he’s a handsome fellow, no doubt about that. Miss Mollie seems quite taken by him.” The memory of a blond man sitting beside Mollie in her workshop with drafting paper before them smacked Zack in the face. He shot to his feet. “I’m going over there.” His mother tried to talk sense into him. “Zachariasz, it is cold outside. Sleet! You will catch your death.” He had lived through worse, and he wasn’t about to sit home eating makowiec loaf while the woman he loved was falling prey to some predator out to seduce her. As if diamond powder would impress her when Colonel Lowe was building her a whole new factory! He yanked his coat from the rack in the hall, still wet from his trip home. He’d put up with a lot from Mollie in the past few weeks, but this was the limit. While he was selling his soul to cut a deal for diamond powder this afternoon, she had been eating oranges with Colonel Lowe.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Your eyes turn an even darker shade of blue when you are angry.” She refused to engage, staring straight ahead. He kept pressing, determined to crack through her shell. “I’ve heard that when black widow spiders are angry, they bite the heads off their mates. You look like you’d enjoy doing that now.” Even that didn’t cause a flicker in her stony expression. The clopping of hooves signaled the arrival of the horse-drawn streetcar. Mollie waited for the shoppers and the newsboy to board, then she stepped up to the driver. “The gentleman wearing the maroon vest is pestering me. Will you see to it he does not board the car?” The driver tugged on a lever and shut the door in Zack’s face.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“I thought you were so straightforward,” she spat out. “Fish dumped on the desk, cutting deals with rowdy Irish gangs. I thought you were an honest man of business, but you’re only a jumped-up longshoreman. Look at you! Such fancy clothes and that ridiculous little blue finch you carry everywhere. You can pretend all you want, but you’ve got filth beneath your nails that will never wash away because you are still wallowing in the gutter.” He flinched before he could mask his feelings. He’d spent a fortune on these blasted clothes and wasn’t going to apologize for working his way off the docks. She turned and darted between pedestrians to escape him, but he wouldn’t let her. Following in her path, he reached out to grab an elbow. “You can’t hurl that load of garbage and then scurry away.” “Watch me.” He pulled up alongside her. “I never took you for a coward, Mollie. Stay here and fight it out.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“She jerked her arm away and followed Mr. Tobbin in the same manner she used to flit about Hartman’s store. Quick, brisk, and efficient. He had to admire that about her. Even while she wore mismatched clothing that had been pulled out of a donation bin, she carried herself with the dignity of a warrior queen. He grinned as he followed her. Life with Mollie would be an adventure, but one he had been anticipating for years. When two hurricanes came together, what could one expect? After this deal concluded, he’d take her out to lunch at the fanciest restaurant in the city.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“Spare me your professional musings, Miss Knox. The subject of clocks and watches is of zero interest to me. What I’d really like to know is what turned a beautiful, intelligent woman into such a foul-mannered brat. You give Sophie a run for her money.” She leaned over until her face was inches from his. “Frank was right about you,” she said in a whisper that vibrated with rage.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“She must not cry in front of all these men. They would think her a useless watering pot unworthy of her father’s inheritance. Everything went blurry as she turned away, trying to hide the tears. Colonel Lowe bent down to peek beneath her lowered head, a trace of humor on his strong face. “Tears? We’ve come all the way across the state to meet the famous Miss Mollie Knox, and all she has for us are tears?” She swiped them away. “It is just that I have felt so overwhelmed. It has been a difficult few weeks.” “Then those are the last tears you will shed from being overwhelmed,” he said. Colonel Lowe’s face was a blend of kindness and humor as he smiled at her. “We will not leave this city until your factory is rebuilt and you are once again producing the world’s most magnificent watches.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“You are it, Mollie,” he whispered. “You are exactly the sort of woman I have always wanted to find. The city can burn to the ground, but you don’t lose your head. You are passion and intelligence and beauty, and I love you to the bottom of my soul.” Mollie’s breath froze in her lungs. She wasn’t ready for this. Zack was a wild, unpredictable force of nature, while she lived in an orderly world of ticking watches and production schedules. She wasn’t ready for this, but there was no stopping Zack. “I want you out of that church and into someplace safe,” he said. “I want to marry you, Mollie. Say yes.” She couldn’t even draw a breath. Her life had been swept up into a whirlwind, smashed into pieces, and then reassembled into a wild and exciting world with which she had no experience. She risked a glance at his face. “You know this terrifies me, right?” His gaze did not waver; it only became more tender as he caressed the side of her face. “I’m betting you’ll brave it out.” She wanted to, but this wild, impulsive urge was frightening. She needed time to process the disordered jumble of feelings that were so unfamiliar to her. “I need to get back to the workshop and see about getting diamond powder.” He cocked a brow at her. “I lay my soul at your feet and you want to talk about buying supplies?” He smiled as he leaned down to touch his forehead to hers again. “I want to marry you, Mollie. Say yes. Say yes, and we’ll be one for the ages.” “I can’t. Not yet.” “When I get back from New York.” “Not then either. Zack, I’m not impulsive. You can’t rush me into something like this.” Zack winked down at her. “How about I rush you into lunch, then?” If he took offense at her refusal to budge on the proposal, he gave no sign of it as he strode down the street, whistling in good humor.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“You have noticed the Monet again,” she said approvingly. “Zachariasz overpaid horribly for that painting, but he was determined to have it.” Dr. Buchanan swiveled in his chair to look at the painting. “Hey, she looks like you, Mollie.” Mollie looked closer at the picture. It showed a young woman with a cascade of black curls spilling down her back, but that was the only resemblance Mollie could see. The woman stood in a green meadow dappled with sunlight, holding something protectively in her hand. Mollie leaned forward to get a better look. “She is holding a watch,” Mrs. Kazmarek said. “A gold watch.” “Oh” was the only thing Mollie could think to say. Dr. Buchanan turned his attention back to his bowl of Polish stew, but Mrs. Kazmarek watched Mollie with the strangest look of expectation on her face. The woman didn’t really think the picture looked like her, did she? There were so many things about Zack she didn’t know. In the past, he had been just an intimidating man in a starched collar with a list of rules she must follow. Now he was a man who had raced through a fire to save her. Who brought his pet bird home every weekend. And, for some reason, had horribly overpaid for a portrait of a girl holding a watch.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“Zack stepped toward Mollie, and without asking permission, tugged her into his arms. “Let’s dance,” he said impulsively. Her eyes widened in alarm. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Mollie was not the sort to be drawn out of her comfort zone without a little prodding. She tried to skitter out of his arms, but he hauled her back. “Let me do all the work, Mollie. I know what I’m doing.” Like any good Pole in Chicago, Zack had been dancing since childhood and confidently led Mollie in a rousing jig. She was clumsy at first, but all she had to do was follow his lead. The tension in her back relaxed, and she learned the steps. Her smile started out hesitant, then bloomed wider. With her face illuminated by firelight and laughter, she was perfect in his arms.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“You’ll be no good to that pretty watchmaker if you are dead on your feet. That shirt smells. Go change while I pack this last batch up.” Zack wolfed down another dumpling, drained the glass of milk in one draw, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I am already late, and I’m not changing my shirt.” He grinned as he imagined the expression on Mollie’s face when she tasted her first homemade pierogi. Someday he wanted to drape her in pearls and fill her evenings with music and dancing, but for now, the best thing was to fill her with a decent meal. “Zachariasz, I am not having that girl think I raised a son who does not put on a starched shirt to court a woman. Go change, and I will pack this up.” “Mama, the people in that church live in squalor and sleep on the ground. They don’t care if my shirt isn’t starched.” It was the wrong thing to say to a woman who carried the fate of Polish cultural identity on her shoulders. “I care,” she said. She hustled up the staircase to his bedroom, muttering over her shoulder. “My son went to Yale and works for the finest merchant in the city. He won’t call on a girl stinking like a laborer.” There was no help for it. Zack vaulted up the stairs, tearing his shirt open and shrugging out of it as he went. He tossed it on the bed and grabbed a gleaming white shirt from his mother’s outstretched hands. She beamed with pride as she handed him a pair of cuff links. “I swear, old woman, you would try a saint’s patience,” he muttered as he fastened the onyx cuff link. “This shirt is going to be covered with a layer of soot by the time I get back.” “Bring the watchmaker back with you. We have plenty of room, and it is foolish for her to be sleeping with all those strangers in the church.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“I don’t know when I can come back,” he said. “The second you get tired of living in a smelly old surplus tent, I want you to come across town to my house.” Mollie nodded and stepped closer. How safe she felt standing within the circle of his arms and laying her head against his chest, where she could hear the strong beating of his heart. “I heard it the first time you offered,” she said with a smile in her voice. “And the fifth, and the tenth.” He pinched her cheek. “Such a clever lass. I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Why didn’t she just leave with him? When she glanced over at the church, she saw Sophie reading the daily newssheet to Frank while Dr. Buchanan played a game of dice with the lumber merchant. “I’m not sure I can explain it,” Mollie said, “but I feel bonded to these people. I can’t leave to go live in the lap of luxury while they are all stranded here.” “You can sleep in my root cellar if it would make you feel better.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“Two hands settled on her shoulders, and Zack tugged her toward him. He placed a kiss on her forehead before whispering into her ear. “I wish we were in blinding agreement about where you should live. You should be under my roof, woman.” A shiver raced down her arms, and she hid her smile against the clean white cotton of his shirt. When he was near, the air felt charged with contagious energy, making her feel more alive.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind

“He cupped Mollie’s face between his palms and tilted it to look up at him. Her face was dirty and her eyes red from grit—and Zack knew he looked no better—but she was precious to him and he wanted her to know that. “Mollie, I’m coming back for you. Don’t leave the church. I need to be able to find you again.” She dropped her gaze but made no move to shrug away from his hands as he held her face. “The satchels with your parents’ papers,” she said. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure they get them back.” “That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it,” he said. “I’ll be coming back because I meant what I said last night. About my . . . inconvenient feelings for you. They haven’t gone away.” Such familiarity on a public street in the middle of the morning was shocking, but none of the rules applied anymore. He leaned over and kissed her mouth, holding her face between his palms. She made no move to push him away, and he kissed each of her cheeks, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You taste like soot, woman.” She laughed, and he impulsively swept her up into a bear hug. To his amazement, she returned his embrace, wrapping her arms around the top of his back. She felt custom-made to fit perfectly against him. They were alive, and they were going to survive, and someday soon they would thrive again. With Hartman’s a smoking rubble, Zack was probably out of a job, but he still had his brain and a strong back. If nothing else, there would be plenty of manual labor needing to be done in the coming months. “We’re going to be okay, Mollie,” he whispered in her ear. Her arms tightened around him, and he didn’t want this moment to end. “I’m coming back for you.” And within his embrace, he felt her nod in agreement. They had just been through the worst two days imaginable, but Zack’s heart soared.”
― Elizabeth Camden, Into the Whirlwind