Hart's Longing (Secrets In Idyll Wood Book 1)

by Marisa Masterson

  She’s the perfect mother. Always nurturing the people around her.

  “What ails you dear girl?” Her arm squeezed gently, urging Zelly to speak. The girl opened her mouth and her face reddened with distress.

  “I…I, um, heard.” Tears sprang to her eyes. Pleasing others was important to Zelly and she knew she needed to confess before her workday could continue.

  She couldn’t bear to look the woman in the eye. After she let her gaze drop to the floor, Mrs. Hoffman’s arm left her shoulders.

  She’s disgusted with me and can’t bear to touch me.

  She heard a chair being pulled close by her. “Honey, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I do want to understand.” Mrs. Hoffman’s neutral voice gave Zelly courage to continue.

  “After I left the porch, um, I couldn’t help it. I heard my name so I stopped.” A finger delicately lifted Zelly’s face to hers.

  “Bet you’ve got some questions. Best ask Hart for answers to them.” Mrs. Hoffman’s tender smile shocked her.

  “You’re not going to yell at me? I can stay and work?” At her questions, Mrs. Hoffman’s eyes showed sadness but no anger. This was opposite of her experiences with Ma’am.

  “Send you home with my mountain of laundry? Not on your life girl!” She lovingly pushed back strands of blonde hair that had come loose from Zelly’s bun, securing the hair behind her ear.

  “I reckon this is a secret that’ll need to come out anyhow. Next time you see Hart, tell him you heard. It’ll be okay.”

  Zelly worked with a lighter heart. Still, she had a head full of questions, and not only about what she’s heard. She remembered Mrs. Hoffman’s reaction to her confession that morning.

  Am I feeling what it’s like to be loved?

  Was this how it felt to be worth something to another person? Was this the worthiness she longed to receive one day from the bullies or Ma’am?

  She acknowledged the impossibility of Ma’am ever loving her. The woman’s coldness and Ram’s nastiness and hate had nothing to do with her, she realized. It was about the kind of people they were.

  This discovery caused the sun to shine brighter for her. As she weeded the garden, she started singing a favorite hymn. Singing while working had been forbidden by Ma’am; she didn’t care.

  Today, life and the future held promise.

  Chapter 5

  Hart carefully closed Mr. Strong’s office door behind him. His employer was not happy that he was leaving. Still, not even the offer of a raise could keep him at the bank.

  During his years at the bank, he’d enjoyed working with numbers. He didn’t mind serving the bank’s customers. However, he didn’t like the bars of the teller cage. They always made him feel, well, caged in.

  David Hildreth’s offer to keep the books for his busy clothing store was too good an opportunity to pass up. He could still work part time with customers and would leave the bars behind.

  The only drawback concerned leaving Zelly. Her response to his kiss gave him hope. She might yet be persuaded to come with him when he left Idyll Wood.

  After retrieving money from the bank vault to set up his drawer for the day, Hart sat on the stool in his cage and waited for Manny.

  Manny turned up at work many mornings hung over. Hart knew, even before the night of the wedding, that Manny had a drinking problem. He wondered if Manny would remember Saturday night or anything he’d heard; he’d been drinking so heavily.

  While he waited, he softly whistled a hymn. A groan and a croaked, “Stop that racket,” startled him. Jerking around, he saw a rumpled looking Manny enter through the bank’s back door.

  “Did you sleep in those clothes?” He shook his head at the way Manny abused his body.

  “Woke up in ‘em but had to race to get here. The housekeeper didn’t keep at me to get up.” Instead of setting up his drawer, Manny sat on his stool and laid his head down on his arms.

  “You go out with your brother last night?” Hart hoped he had. Maybe Manny knew something about Ram’s plans for Zelly.

  Manny lifted his head. “Yeah. Him and Ralph. He told me you clobbered him good.” Manny laughed, “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

  “You know why I hit him?” Hart watched Manny to see if he would tell the truth. “You know what he planned to do to Zelly?”

  Scrunching up his face as if thinking hard, Manny responded. “Nah. Ram just said that Ralph needed to pull harder and faster if he didn’t want to get caught again. Not sure what that meant.”

  “Did Ram say anything about Zelly? Maybe about plans to see her?”

  Manny shook his head and then held it between his hands and groaned, “He only talked about a girl, the quiet one he called her. And something about her walking home from work…”

  The clearing of a throat interrupted Manny and stiffened both of their spines. Mr. Strong glared his displeasure at his younger son.

  “What do you mean coming in here like that young man? Go home and come back when you are ready to give this job the respect it deserves!”

  He hoped Mr. Strong hadn’t heard Manny’s mumbled, “That will be the day!” as he left out the backdoor. Again, his employer cleared his throat, this time to gain Hart’s attention.

  “Please knock on my office door if you become overwhelmed with customers.” Mr. Strong crossed to his office. Before he could enter, Hart did his own throat clearing.

  “Something has come to my attention sir.” He kept his gaze focused on Mr. Strong’s face and didn’t lower his eyes in subservience. He had noted that this man respected direct eye contact and seemed to always reward boldness. “Please, I will need to leave an hour earlier today.”

  “You certainly have never asked for favors before. It has not started out as a good day for requests, but I am sure Manny can cover for you just as you are doing for him this morning.” Saying his son’s name brought a scowl to Mr. Strong’s face and he hurried into his office.

  He tossed a “Thank you sir” at Mr. Strong’s retreating back. He controlled his voice so it didn’t reflect only politeness. Inside though, he did cartwheels at being given an extra hour to be with Zelly.

  Stretching her arms first, Zelly rubbed the small of her back. It had been a physically demanding day. She lugged water to the thirsty plants before weeding the garden and later endlessly cranked the wheel of Mrs. Hoffman’s washing machine. Tomorrow, she’d said, Zelly would iron the laundry so that should be less taxing. At least she avoided using a scrub board to do the laundry since Mrs. Hoffman owed a Hamilton Smith rotary washing machine.

  Though she had never used a washing machine, she caught on quickly and amazed herself at how rapidly the bedding was washed by using one. Typically she found it long and tiresome to scrub sheets. Laundry today had almost been a pleasure.

  Being around Mrs. Hoffman for the day was what had really been a pleasure. She complimented Zelly often and took time to patiently explain things, such as the washing machine, to her. Ma’am was never so positive or patient.

  Between Hart’s tender kiss this morning and Mrs. Hoffman’s kind treatment, it truly had been a wonderful day. The only terrible part had been asking for her wages. She felt embarrassed when she asked Mrs. Hoffman to pay her daily.

  With a quarter tied into her handkerchief and tucked away, she trudged slowly because she was walking toward home. This was the same field she’d raced through early, but then she had been freed from home instead of returning to it.

  She agreed to let Sven walk with her, telling him he could only go as far as the cow pond. Earlier, he shadowed her for much of the day. She asked if he was missing Rebecca. With a sniffle, he nodded his head.

  A sudden whistle from a nearby stand of trees startled her. The sound was definitely made by a human and not a bird.

  Whistling? At me?

  With her attention drawn to the group of trees, she saw Ram slink out of them and start across the field toward her.

  Hart warned me about Ram! Ram w
ants to hurt me!

  With lightning speed, those thoughts raced through her mind. She screamed for Sven to get help. Then she took off at a run which mirrored her morning race.

  He yelled for her to stop and then she heard him curse. Another curse sounded close behind her. A hand grabbed her arm, yanking her to a stop.

  Caught!

  Before she could shriek in fear, he shoved a wadded kerchief into her mouth. Dragging her across the field, he pulled her toward the stand of trees.

  Laughing as he cruelly squeezed the arm that was in his vise-like grip, he taunted, “Zilly Zelly Fuller! Guess who you’re going to be full of.”

  In her innocence, his chant didn’t completely make sense to her. Still, because of Hart’s warning about the bet, it frightened her. Intuitively, she knew that he wanted to harm her in the way Mrs. Hoffman had warned her about years ago when she had started developing a figure.

  In a desperate move, she tried to tip backward as she pulled against him, like she had the day before with Ralph. This time there was no give, reminding her of the night of the wedding. Her struggles didn’t even slow him down.

  This rough handling went beyond any of his nasty pranks. As he dragged her across the field with the hay stubble painfully poking at her exposed ankles, she had a sudden realization about Ram.

  I can feel the hate radiating off this man. I don’t want to be like him!

  Probably she realized this because of the tenderness Hart had shown her. I won’t spend more of my life nursing hurts and anger from the past.

  When they neared the edge of the trees, she heard a furious yell. Ram’s hand was ripped away from her as Hart rammed a shoulder into his gut, knocking them both off their feet. He landed on the ground with Hart on top, pummeling his face.

  She snatched the handkerchief from her mouth and started screaming. Wanting to help Hart, she searched for a tree branch or rock to use as a weapon. She’d just located a thick oak branch when Ralph Stinson lumbered through the copse of trees.

  “You!” shrieked Zelly. She turned her focus and her weapon on Ralph. Running at him, Zelly rammed the sturdy limb into his belly. With his typical cowardly behavior, he abandoned Ram and retreated back into the trees.

  Though a fight was happening directly in front of her, some part of Zelly’s mind noted the nearby sound of a woodpecker hammering on a tree. Ironically, the rhythm of its knocking coincided with the blows Hart hammered into Ram’s face.

  Ram put up a good fight. It didn’t take long, though, before Hart had subdued him. She was stunned by her satisfaction at that.

  Hart had a bloodied lip and what looked to be the beginnings of a black eye. Still, he was the one who was standing and would walk away with the girl. She threw her arms around him and squeezed.

  “Thank you, thank you!” Instead of crying, Zelly began laughing.

  What an odd reaction!

  Hart looked at her with longing. She thought he might have kissed her if his lip wasn’t bleeding. Instead, she leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek. “My hero!”

  Sven arrived, his shorter legs having delayed him. She leaned down and kissed his cheek too. “My other hero!” The six-year-old beamed at that and puffed out his small chest.

  “I found him Zelly, real close to here. That’s how we saved you.” Still out of breath, Sven’s explanation came out in excited pants.

  “Well, I’m fine now thanks to you. You need to go home, though, so I know you’re safe.” With one more kiss to his cheek, she put a hand to Sven’s back and urged him on his way.

  “But Hart, you didn’t give me my peppermint yet!”

  With the resilience of childhood, Sven already blocked out the violence of the afternoon. He stood his ground, expecting the treat he had been promised yesterday.

  Hart reached into his breast pocket and pulled two peppermint sticks out.

  “Hurray I get two!”

  With a shake of his head, he explained. “No, one’s for Lars. We can’t leave him out.” Then with one hand on Sven’s back, he pushed him toward home.

  For just a moment, both watched Sven race through the field. She wondered if Hart longed for the freedom and happiness of childhood as he watched Sven run, his reward clutched tightly to his chest.

  Watching him wipe at his bleeding lip with a handkerchief, she felt terrible he’d been hurt helping her. Before she could say anything, he broke the silence.

  “Tell me what happened,” he ordered none too gently. From his tone, she guessed he was stirred up yet from the fight. What a contrast to the tender tone he had used the day before after Ralph’s attack.

  Instead of telling him what he wanted to know, Zelly stared at him with a stupefied expression. “You really care about me?”

  He had been her hero twice. Yesterday, she had been sure he’d helped only because he happened to see her in need. Could there be more to it?

  “Of course I care. I kissed you. That was my first kiss and I saved it for you Zelly!” He sounded more disgusted than loving. It made her start to giggle.

  “Well, don’t get upset about it. It’s just that no boy or man has ever cared about me before.” She shook her head to reinforce what she said.

  “Except for your dad?”

  Zelly again shook her head. “I never met him. He left, I think. It was when I was a baby.”

  She never dared ask Ma’am for details about her father. She lived in fear of the woman’s sudden and fierce rages.

  “Good! That makes me the only man in your life. I like that, Zelly Fuller.”

  With the bleeding stopped, he lowered his head. The kiss he gave her created a longing in her. She wished he would kiss her again and never stop.

  She decided to enjoy his attentions as they would be short lived. From the conversation she’d overheard, she knew he planned to leave.

  Also, she didn’t think he would really want her as a wife. Probably, he’d mentioned marriage to pacify his aunt after she’d confronted him about the kissing.

  Those thoughts brought to mind questions she’d had that morning. “Hart, I overheard you and Mrs. Hoffman today. I’m sorry and embarrassed, but I did.”

  He just shrugged. “So you know she’s my aunt?”

  “It seems strange that you pretend she’s not.” She had no family other than Ma’am. She would love to claim someone as her aunt or any other family member.

  “You know her sister’s dead, right? The one killed by her husband.” She nodded her head. Rebecca told her the story.

  “It happened when I was thirteen. My father was a terrible drunk, always angry and violent when he had his snoot full. It’s why I never drink and never will. I promise you that Zelly.” She nodded her head, both to acknowledge what he said as well as to urge him to continue his story.

  “One night he came home drunk as usual, angry drunk. I ran out the back door, less afraid of the dark than of him. Mom didn’t move fast enough and he backhanded her.”

  He paused before continuing. “I watched through the parlor window as she fell. She hit her head on the edge of the library table and then fell against the fireplace.”

  What could she say to that? It must be horrible to know one parent killed the other. Even though Ma’am was nasty, she didn’t kill Zelly’s father.

  “I’m so sorry Hart.” She hugged her arms around his waist and held him. “But why hide your connection to the Hoffmans?”

  “Tante Greta wanted me to escape that background. By doing that, she hoped I wouldn’t grow up as the murderer’s kid. I was the right age to board in town for high school so we made up a story. I stopped being Reinhardt Bahr and became Hart Bahr.”

  Zelly was both stunned by Hart’s story and overwhelmed with sorrow. A violent parent was nothing new to her. Hart, however, had seemed so calm and successful that she had difficulty connecting this violent background with the man who stood next to her.

  “Does it make that much difference to you?” Gone was the man with the air of a
lways being in charge. From his tentativeness, she knew how important her answer was to him. That he valued her opinion amazed her.

  “No, it doesn’t change the person I’m getting to know.” She looked at him with what she knew must be a stunned reaction. “It’s your question that made me pause,”

  With a soft touch, Hart squeezed her hands. “Are you so surprised that I care about what you think?” He punctuated his query with a slow, soft kiss. Zelly sighed when he lifted his mouth. “I hope that it helps you realize how important you are to me.”

  In a pantomime of formality, Hart presented his arm to Zelly. “Allow me to walk you home Miss Fuller.”

  She giggled and thought of the previous day when she had been so shy about touching him. Oh my, the changes a day can bring.

  Zelly decided she liked change!

  When they arrived at the Fuller home, Ada stood on the porch with a hand shading her eyes. Zelly quickly removed her hand from Hart’s arm.

  Both she and Hart looked in the same direction to see what captured Mrs. Fuller’s attention. A collection of wagons and horses in the distance made it appear like a party was happening at Mueller’s Lake.

  What an odd sight to see on a Monday!

  “Zelly! Go see what in the blue blazes is happening over there? It’s been hopping like an anthill for over an hour.”

  This shocked her. Not the activity at Mueller’s Lake, though that was interesting. Ma’am’s desire for information came as a surprise. The woman’s oft repeated saying was, “I mind my business and expect others to do the same.”

  With a nod to her and a mumbled, “Yes Ma’am,” she started down the road that would curve and then lead her straight to the lake.

  Hart must have hurried after her because she felt his hand on her arm before she even reached the curve. She knew him by the delightful sparks that went through her at the touch.

  Delightful is a perfect word to describe his touch. That is, until he captured and held her hand in his as they walked. Then she realized delightful was much too mild.

  How could she have been around him for several years without realizing the sensations he could evoke in her? An emotional dam seemed to open with his kiss that morning.