“You’re imitating what I said to you today. Are you making fun of me Hart Bahr?” She shoved gently at his shoulder in mock battle.
“Never! I’m just giving credit where credit is due.”
She smiled and reminded him, “What are friends for?” Then she stretched her neck up to kiss him on his cheek.
“I want more than that Zelly. I think you know I want you like a wife, not merely a friend.” He paused, watching her face as he exposed his hopes for their relationship.
Did he realize he was pushing her? The words she’d overheard that day came back to her. You let the girl think about what you’ve told her. You give her time.
She didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t asked her a question. And really, his kisses earlier already showed her he was interested in her.
If only she could melt against him and lay her head on his shoulder. If only Ma’am hadn’t convinced her that Zelly had to stay with her.
When she didn’t say anything, Hart sighed. “Been a long day. I sure don’t look forward to seeing Mr. Strong at the bank tomorrow.”
He gave a rueful chuckle. “Good thing I already have another job to go to.”
The thought of his plan brought tears to Zelly’s eyes. She lowered her face and was glad that it was too dark for Hart to see her eyes. Still, he reached over and squeezed her hand.
When Mr. Hoffman stopped the horses at the Fuller house, Hart jumped quickly out of the wagon to help Zelly down.
“Tomorrow is another day full of wonderful happenings Zelly Fuller. See you then!” Kissing her cheek, he jumped into the wagon and the weary family headed toward home.
Chapter 7
For such a hot day, a definite frost hung in the air of the bank. Hart entered the bank and said good morning to Mr. Strong through his open office door. Instead of returning the greeting, his employer rose from behind the desk and closed the door in Hart’s face.
Looking heavenward, Hart issued what had to be his hundredth thank you to the Lord for the job waiting in Cashton. Hildreth’s Haberdashery loomed in his mind like an oasis in the midst of his growing troubles.
Twelve days until he was expected to report for work there. Nine more days of working here in the bank. You can do this. Remember, you need those days to woo sweet Zelly!
His till rested in its drawer, ready for the day and he busily wiped down the bank’s counter. Manny entered through the back door. For once, his clothes were wrinkle free and his hair had been neatly combed.
Manny glanced hesitantly toward his father’s office. After seeing the door closed, he smiled at Hart and greeted him. At least one Strong wasn’t angry that morning.
While Manny set up the contents of his cash drawer, Hart finished the light cleaning that either Manny or he was expected to do most evenings before leaving work. He had left early the previous day and obviously, and not unexpectedly, Manny failed to clean the night before.
After looking at the Regulator clock hung on the wall next to the front door, Hart flipped the sign in the window and unlocked the front door. Sitting on his stool, he mentally formed questions he wanted to ask Manny.
Before he could ask any of them, Manny spoke. “A lot of yelling at my home last night. Dad wants to blame it all on Zelly.”
Manny sighed. “He refuses to see what a snake my brother is!”
“If he’s blaming Zelly, why did he slam his door in my face?” He tried not to be hurt by the injustice of it. An arrogant man, Mr. Strong expected to live life without needing to apologize. Last night must have been a terrible blow to his pride.
A low chuckle vibrated up from Manny’s chest. “You should see Ram’s face today. I know my father looked in on him, like I did, before he left for the bank. It probably made him angry at you again seeing him so bruised like that.”
He knew no love was lost between the brothers. It did bother him, however, to see the enjoyment Manny was experiencing at Ram’s suffering. What an odd family!
A flood of customers, mostly business owners needing money for change or making deposits before their stores opened cut off their conversation. For a Tuesday, customers filled their time that morning. There had been such a steady parade of patrons that a fatigued Hart failed to make eye contact with his latest customer.
When Hart read the name on the check a hand slid across the counter to him, his eyes flew up. Ada Fuller stood there, her face a mixture of belligerence and impatience. “Is there a problem with the check young man?” she demanded.
“No, Mrs. Fuller. I, um, that is the information in the memo line took me by surprise.” Purchase of property was written as a contract of sorts there.
She harrumphed and snapped out, “Not that it’s any of your business, but I tried to sell my place to that Mr. Hoffman with whom you board. When he didn’t want it, I went to Mr. Mueller since his land and lake are so close to mine.”
She shook her head and growled with disgust, “I’m sure he cheated me, considering how little he gave me. A poor widow must expect misuse in this world.”
The news jarred him. “Zelly never said you were thinking of selling!”
“Why would she? As if I’d ever tell her what I was going to do. Dumb girl!” Her face grew florid and her foot tapped. “My money please!”
“One moment, Mrs. Fuller. I must seek permission before I can release a sum of this size.” He knocked softly on Mr. Strong’s office door. A frowning Mr. Strong opened it after the second knock.
“Is there a problem Mr. Bahr? Could you not simply solve it yourself?” Condescension filled his voice.
“A check for four hundred dollars needs to be drawn on Mr. Samuel Mueller’s account. Shall I release the funds?”
“Did you check the account balance?” His tone implied he thought Hart too incompetent to have already done so.
“Certainly, sir. The funds are there.” Hart would not be cowed by his irate employer. “But I know your rule, to consult you before releasing any amount over one hundred dollars.”
Hi employer waved his hand as if to signify the go ahead and closed his door once again. Hart feared the nine days left until he’d worked out his notice were going to be arduous.
Back in his teller cage, he withdrew four bills from his drawer to hand to Mrs. Fuller. “Not such large denominations. I want twenties.” Her inflection implied he should have known that already.
Replacing the larger bills, he counted out the. “There you are ma’am. Where will you move?” And when?
“I’ll tend to my business and you tend to yours!” She whirled around and narrowly missed knocking over frail Mrs. Abernathy. Giving the poor woman a glare, she stomped out of the bank.
At Mrs. Abernathy’s raised brows, he merely shrugged and inquired after her health. He needed to put the sale of the Fuller home out of his mind until he left work.
The remainder of the day passed unremarkably, except for one occurrence. Sheriff Redmond entered the bank just as Hart prepared to take his lunch break.
As he had been about to exit by the bank’s back door, someone called his name. Looking over his shoulder, he noticed the sheriff motion him over.
“Is there something wrong Sheriff?” He worked to keep apprehension out of his voice, maintaining a neutral tone.
“Stopped by to be sure there wasn’t. Everything smooth today for you?” The sheriff pointed a finger at Mr. Strong’s office as he asked.
He shook his head no. Rather than elaborate, he said, “Not borrowing trouble.” Feeling uncomfortable, Hart changed the subject. “What’s happening with those skeletons?”
Sheriff Redmond dug into the small pocket on his vest and pulled out a signet ring. “Found this on one of them. Recognize it at all?” He studied Hart’s face as he asked that.
“Should I?”
“Nah. I’m showing it to anyone I talk to.” The lawman tucked it back into his vest. “Funny thing, you showing up at the lake right when you did yesterday. Considering the scare Miss Zelda had right before,
I would have thought you’d walk her home to her mama.”
Was the sheriff fishing for something? Yesterday, he accused him of robbery. Would he be accused of murder today?
“Well, sheriff, I did walk her home. Her mother insisted we check out the crowd at the lake.” He made sure to look the Redmond in the eye when he spoke. Hart wanted him to know that he had nothing to hide.
Surprise showed on Sheriff Redmond’s face. “Never known Ada Fuller to be curious about other people’s doings. She tends to keep to herself.”
Did the sheriff just accuse him of lying?
Despite trying to remain calm, he found himself speaking rapidly as he explained. “She was really agitated about it. When I told her about the skeletons, she gripped her porch post until her knuckles grew white. Not sure why.”
Sheriff Redmond’s face wore a thoughtful look. He thanked Hart before heading to the office door. Manny caught his eye with a silent question. He shrugged and left for his lunch break.
At four that afternoon, Hart waited while Mr. Strong cashed out his drawer. He glanced longingly out the window. I wonder if Zelly’s already home.
At the clearing of Mr. Strong’s throat, he focused on his employer. “Is there a problem sir?”
Mr. Strong looked impassively at him. “I’m sure you have noticed how slow business has been in the bank.”
Since he and Manny rushed to keep up with a stream of customers that morning and most of the afternoon, Hart recognized this for the lie it was. He waited patiently for his employer to continue, not agreeing with him or challenging the lie.
“As you have wisely planned for alternate employment, I see no reason for you to come in after today.” The banker handed him an envelope.
“You will find two weeks’ salary and a letter of reference in this envelope. Thank you for your hard work.” Without shaking his hand or wishing him well, Mr. Strong called to Manny and both entered the office.
They left him standing alone and stunned. True, he expected to leave the bank for another job. Still, he disliked like the feeling of being unwanted.
Before leaving the bank, he opened the envelope. It held the expected wage as well as a short letter on the bank’s letterhead. In it, Mr. Strong described Hart’s job performance as acceptable in one spot and adequate in another.
After his loyalty and hard work, this description delivered a slap to his pride. He supposed, after the fight with Ram, he shouldn’t expect anything else from the arrogant bank owner.
One thing in the envelope did surprise him. Inside was a smaller envelope. Upon opening it, he found a receipt indicating his account at the bank was closed. The amount of his savings was tucked inside also. Well, Mr. Strong truly meant Hart’s break with the bank to be final.
It doesn’t matter. You have a job waiting. He repeated this to keep from acting on his anger. He’d fought too much already this week and refused to allow himself to gradually become his angry, murdering father.
Focus on something else. By replaying the day’s events, he was able to leave the bank without a backward glance at the office door.
Ada Fuller had been closed mouthed about her plans. Maybe she’d said more to one of the business owners in town.
Even though he considered it unlikely that she had, Hart decided to go to the dry goods store. Many people shopped there, and Mr. Olsen usually knew all the secrets of the town.
At Olsen’s Dry Goods, Hart looked through the large plate glass window. Good, it’s almost empty. That would make it easier for him to ask questions.
A small bell sounded as he opened the door. Mrs. Olsen, with her apple cheeks and perennially clean white apron, appeared almost instantly from behind a curtain. Giving Hart a friendly smile she asked, “What can I get for you Mr. Bahr?”
Fidgeting a bit as he considered how to start the conversation, Hart blurted out, “What do you know about Ada Fuller leaving town?”
Mrs. Olsen looked confused. “Leaving town? Goodness gracious! Where would she even go?”
Hart decided a different question might produce answers. “Did Mrs. Fuller visit your store today?”
With a nod of her head, Mrs. Olsen answered with a good deal of surprise tingeing her voice. “Yes, she paid off her account. Two weeks early, in fact. She always pays on the 15th of the month. Like clockwork for years now. Funny thing her coming in today.”
“Did she tell you why she paid early?” Hart couldn’t help leaning eagerly toward Mrs. Olsen.
“Well, she’s not an easy woman to have a conversation with. She bought a few things and asked if I had any spare gunny sacks. People do like to store things in them, you know.”
Obviously, Mrs. Olsen had nothing else to share. She busily dusted the canned goods on shelves behind her.
“One more thing, ma’am. And I am sorry to keep pestering you, but did the sheriff show you a ring today?”
“Well, now that was another odd thing.” She put the duster down and looked upward as she remembered. “Ada Fuller was here when the sheriff came with the ring. After he took it out of his vest pocket, she hurried to the door without even waiting for those gunny sacks.”
Frowning at the memory, she finished off the story. “She’s such a strange woman!”
Hart wondered if this was before the sheriff visited the bank. The lawman had seemed intrigued by Ada’s interest in the events at Mueller’s Lake. Her tense response especially seemed to get his attention.
Maybe Mrs. Fuller and that ring were connected.
“Did you recognize the ring ma’am?”
Once again, Mrs. Olsen left her dusting to answer his questions. “You are a nosy one today Mr. Bahr. Well, I can say it seemed familiar, but I am not sure why. I told the sheriff that I wished I could help. Mr. Olsen looked at it too and thought he’d seen it before.”
Here she paused and gave a nod, “You can be sure he’ll eventually remember. Memory like an elephant, that man has.”
After thanking her, Hart stepped out onto the wooden sidewalk. He considered visiting the sheriff. Was Redmond suspicious of Mrs. Fuller?
He changed his mind, deciding to let the man do his job. Instead of going to the jail, he headed to the farm. Though he wanted to speak with Mr. Mueller about the sale of the Fuller home, he went straight to the Hoffmans.
The day had been rough so he planned to walk Zelly home when she left work. Her sweetness drew him, the bright spot he needed after his boss’s horridness.
Chapter 8
Hart felt his mouth hang open in shock. According to his aunt, Zelly never arrived for work that day.
When he needed to leave for work that morning and she wasn’t there, he assumed she was late. His aunt’s news confused him.
Mysterious!
Hoping to meet up with Zelly, he traced her typical path home or seeing her at the cow pond where she loved to sit. When he didn’t find her, he believed she’d be at her house.
Knocking on the front door, Hart stood with a smile on his face. Thinking of surprising Zelly put that expression there.
The grin faded quickly when Mrs. Fuller’s sour face greeted him instead of Zelly’s sweet one.
“I’d like to speak with your daughter please, Mrs. Fuller.” He stuck his hand into the pockets of his dark wool pants and hoped he at least gave off an air of patience, even though he certainly didn’t feel patient.
“She’s not here,” snapped the older woman.
“What do you mean she’s not here?”
“Do you not understand plain speech young man? I mean she is not home. Did you check with the Hoffmans? Maybe she’s there.”
The sly expression on Ada Fuller’s face tormented him, as he watched her through the screen of her door. She projected the air of knowing a secret and glorying in not letting others in on it.
“By the way, Mrs. Fuller, I hear in town you want gunny sacks. Should I bring some over from the farm?” Even though he worried about Zelly, he couldn’t resist bringing up the planned move.
>
“Have you been asking about me in town? How dare you?!” With a backward step, the surly woman slammed her front door. Well, that didn’t bag me any information! What a disappointment.
Samuel Mueller worked across the road from the Fuller house, cutting the oats in that field. Those standing oats prevented he and Zelly from taking the shortcut across the field to the lake yesterday.
Without a crop in that field, someone could easily go from the Fuller home to the lake quickly. A person could probably even drag something, like a body, across the field to dump in the lake.
Based on her suspicious behavior, he already believed Ada Fuller was connected to those skeletons. She was mean enough to be a murderer, he thought.
Crossing the road, he put up a hand to halt Mr. Mueller. Seeing his gesture, the man pulled back on the leathers to stop his team, halting the threshing machine they pulled.
“Afternoon Mr. Mueller. Glad to catch you out here.” He shook the hand the older man offered.
The farmer shook his hand before swiping the sleeve of his blue chambray shirt across his sweating forehead. He laconically asked, “That so. What you need Bahr?”
“Heard you bought some property today. Did Mrs. Fuller tell you where she’s going or when? I can’t get a word out of her about it.”
“Saw you sitting real cozy with her girl on Sunday. Maybe she don’t like that so she’s leaving.” Wiping the back of his neck with a red bandana, Mueller chuckled. Hart supposed the man believed what he’d said was funny.
“I was surprised Hoffman didn’t want the land, but I didn’t turn it down. That’s for sure.”
Hart mentally tapped down his impatience and asked again. “Did she say where she was going or when?”
“Don’t know where to, but I expect she’s leaving real soon. Saw the Stinson boy haul a wagon load out for her. Early this morning it was, just as I came to start work on the field. There was a bundle in the back of it so probably she’s already packing things up and sending them off.”
Mueller shrugged. “She said I’d have the property by the first of next month, at the latest. That’s about all I can tell you.” Dismissing him, the farmer signaled to his team and resumed harvesting the golden oats.
Hart's Longing (Secrets In Idyll Wood Book 1) Page 6
