Wistful in Wisconsin (Yours Truly: The Lovelorn Book 10)

by Marisa Masterson

  Her words ended with a sigh. “I’m afraid it didn’t work. Still, I’m happy with my ordinary life.”

  Eyebrows raised, Lilah blurted out the question before thinking. “Someone actually tried to run a finishing school here in Idyll Wood? I can’t imagine there was much interest, not with the people I’ve met here.”

  The other woman pushed her round spectacles up her nose and stared for a moment. Lilah resisted the urge to fidget in her chair, sure she’d offended her.

  Tension melted as Merrilee giggled. “Imagine such a thing. Why not even the wealthiest man in town has that much polish to him.”

  With the dull gray kettle in place, she sat across from her guest and shook her head. “No, it wasn’t here in Idyll Wood. I came from the East as a mail-order bride.”

  Silence gripped the two women. Lilah’s mouth rounded in an “oh” as she wondered questions that she couldn’t politely ask. Merrilee smiled sweetly and waited without speaking.

  Finally, she was the one to break the quiet as she nodded toward Lilah. “Please, go ahead and ask me the question I see in your eyes. I think you and I could be good friends. This might be a start to that.”

  Lilah’s voice began with a hesitant note. “But, why would you come all this way to marry someone you didn’t know?”

  A secret smile made the woman across from her suddenly very lovely. Lilah knew by it that Merrilee definitely found a great deal of joy in her marriage.

  “I was desperate. So were Carl’s brothers. We were a good match because of that.”

  She stopped and her smile widened. “Actually, we make a good couple for more reasons than that.” She rubbed her small belly. The action brought Lilah’s eyes to it, and for the first time she realized the woman was expecting.

  Though she longed to mention the fact, good manners forbade her from doing so. Oh, but it made her happy to realize that she would be an aunt when she married Fred. As an only child, she longed for a large family.

  Soft words pulled Lilah from her dream of marrying Fred. “My dear mother passed suddenly. My stepfather had terrible plans for me so I escaped to Wisconsin.”

  Merrilee frowned without revealing what those plans had been. She rose when the kettle whistled behind her and filled a plain, white teapot. She placed it on the table along with two equally nondescript mugs.

  “Not fancy china, I’m afraid. I don’t worry about such things here in Idyll Wood.”

  As Lilah lifted the mug to her lips and daintily sipped at the steaming drink, Merrilee asked her a question. “Why do you think Fred should marry you?”

  Chapter 2

  The Purpose

  Lilah choked on her sip of tea, quickly setting the cup back on the table. She pulled a lacy bit of linen from her pocket and coughed into it. Dabbing at her lips first, she returned the handkerchief to the pocket of her skirt.

  Merrilee watched patiently, waiting for an answer. Lilah smiled, almost a conciliatory expression, as if she wanted to win the other woman over to her belief.

  “There was a moment when he held me. Right after he stopped what was being done--.”

  Her words drifted off to a whisper. She rarely allowed thoughts of that time to surface. Instead, she focused solely on the need to convince Fred of their love. The future drove her, not past mistakes. At least, that’s what she told herself.

  Shaky hands brought the mug to her lips. Lilah sipped at the almost tepid liquid. One sip. Then another. It steadied her so her training took over again.

  Lips turning upward, she apologized airily. “How awkward. I’m sorry to lose control for a moment.”

  Merrilee frowned and leaned forward. “I think you need to lose control. A screaming, raging, crying fit would help you.”

  Mouth agape, Lilah looked at the woman. It was like Merrilee had just told her to run naked through the town. Throw a fit? Why, she’d disgrace every teacher who’d ever molded her into a lady.

  Her hostess stayed silent, waiting for her to respond. The conversation’s focus on Lilah made her uncomfortable so she turned it to Merrilee’s experience.

  With a voice nearly devoid of emotion, a much-practiced tone at school, she threw out a challenge. “Is that what you did? When your stepfather had those plans for you?”

  Cattiness. Anger. Coldness. Lilah expected one of those emotions. The friendship would be over before it began. She tamped down regret that surged strongly through her.

  Merrilee Sittig surprised her. She didn’t respond like other so-called friends and acquaintances. Instead, she pursed her lips and tapped a finger against them.

  “After I realized what that man planned to do to me, events seemed to race along. There just wasn’t time or an opportunity to privately fall apart.”

  She smiled weakly. “When I finally had a cry about it, after the murderer was caught, Carl wanted to run for Doctor Weber. He was sure something had to be wrong with me.”

  That drew a brief smile from Lilah. Then she raised a brow. “Why would crying frighten him like that?”

  With a shake of her head, Merrilee sighed. “I never met her, but Carl’s mother seemed to be a martyr. From Myra’s description, Jennie never complained, wept, or raged. Not even on her deathbed.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “Not normal at all. I can only imagine what happened to the poor lady. Someone had to teach her to behave that way.” She raised a finger to shake it at Lilah. “And I know who it must have been. That cold-hearted husband of hers.”

  Clouds in Lilah’s mind seemed to part. Suddenly, she understood. Fred couldn’t tell her he loved her. His father must have trained him not to discuss emotions.

  Joy flowed through her body. Obviously, it showed on her face since Merrilee sat back in her chair and stared.

  “What has brought about this change? It’s like you just found a hidden pot of chocolate.”

  Unable to stop it, a giggle escaped from Lilah. She wanted to wrap her arms around her middle and laugh out loud in triumph. Finally, Lilah Levitt had a purpose.

  She would teach Fred to say, “I love you.”

  Her miserable experience at the brothel. The slavers who tricked her into coming to Idyll Wood. Her critical father who tried to shut her away from the world. All of those were a part of bringing her to this moment so she could save the heart of a good man.

  Repeating her question, Merrilee pulled Lilah from her private celebration. “What’s brought this change? You look like you could dance around the table.”

  Lilah grinned. “I know why things happened to bring me to this point in my life. It’s why I couldn’t stay away from Idyll Wood.”

  She gripped her hands to keep them from gesturing wildly. “I’m meant to show Fred how to love.” Lilah ignored her companion’s gaping mouth. “Isn’t it wonderful to know your purpose?”

  Fred strode into his brother’s house with a purpose riding his shoulders. Myra had to help him or he’d go crazy from that woman stalking him in town. He couldn’t think of anyone else to go to about the problem.

  Typically, he stopped to knock and waited for someone to answer the door. Yes, this was his childhood home, but a lot had changed in the last two years. And, too, he didn’t live here anymore.

  Today, he forgot that in his rush to get help from his sister-in-law. In the mudroom, he stomped off the slush clinging to his boots. Pushing back the wood-framed screen door, his had turned the doorknob and pushed his way into the kitchen at the back of the house.

  Without looking at anyone, he turned his back to the room and secured the door. His foot nudged the weighted wool roll so that it stretched once again along the length of the door, sealing out any cold that would try to sneak in that way.

  When he finally faced the family gathered at the kitchen table, Fred’s eyes narrowed at their surprised expressions. “What? Can’t a man come to visit his brother’s children?”

  Joyful shouts from the four girls had him wincing. They certainly were more vocal now that Myra mothered them. Loving, too,
he thought, as arms gripped his waist and thighs. Smothered in love, he reached into his pocket and pulled out candy sticks.

  “Girls,” a soft voice called and four heads immediately looked in that direction. “I want you to each return to the table. Put your candy by your plate for after dinner.”

  Myra focused on the new arrival then. Gesturing toward the food, she smiled at him. “Fred, have you eaten? There’s plenty of the noon meal left.”

  He nodded and sat next to his brother, where Dora had been sitting. The three-year-old shared a chair now with her twin, happy to be touching her sister and excited that her uncle was visiting.

  A bowl of fragrant bean soup appeared in front of him. Bowing his head briefly, Fred eagerly dipped up a spoonful and savored the smokey flavor of the ham. He wanted to compliment Myra on the meal. The words wouldn’t form, though.

  Holder, his older brother, grunted in his direction and pointed at Fred’s bowl with his own raised spoon. “Good soup, yah? My wife pleases us with her cooking.”

  Fred watched Holder wink and smile at Myra. The woman blushed and dipped her head. Always a modest one, his sister-in-law.

  In truth, she had so much to be proud of in this home. She’d changed Holder from a cold, bitter man to a father who showed his girls affection and acceptance. Fred remembered the days when Holder refused to even look at the twins. The girls went more than a year without names because his brother wouldn’t even think about them.

  Myra worked miracles in this home. Would she be willing to fix his problem with Lilah Levitt?

  Across the table from him, Myra shifted, uncomfortable. Next to him, Holder cleared his throat. Fred reddened as he realized he must have been staring overly long at his brother’s wife.

  Goodness! He had to explain this, and quickly!

  “I, uh, well it’s just that I…” His voice trailed off, making the situation worse.

  Holder stood and looked down at him. “You got a problem with my wife, Mr. Sheriff. Think she held up the bank?”

  Around them, little gasps from small girls sounded in the air. Even the baby in his cradle gave out a cry of distress.

  Forgetting his delicious meal, Holder got to his feet. Words rushed from Fred like a dam bursting in the spring. “No, I need help. Myra is the only one who might get through to the woman.”

  With a downward motion of his hand, Holder indicated for Fred to sit. He also settled in his chair and solemnly watched Fred run a shaky hand through his golden hair.

  “Woman troubles?” His brother snorted, as if he’d never heard of anyone having issues with a female. Both Holder’s first wife and his second were soft spoken, gentle women. Maybe he never had a problem with either one.

  Fred typically followed whatever his brother said. After all, he was the head of the family. For a moment, that obedient respect disappeared.

  “Yes, women trouble. Don’t act stupid like you’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  Silence. He felt six sets of eyes study him like an animal in a carnival. Myra broke the uncomfortable quiet.

  “Girls, you are done so head into the front room. It is time for more chapters in Ivanhoe. Your sister will read today instead of me.”

  She smiled at the oldest, Johanna. The girl beamed at being given the job.

  “Yes, Mama.”

  With a wave of her hands, she rushed her sisters. “Hurry with me. Remember that Mama said we’d meet Robin Hood in today’s chapter.” With a look over her shoulder, the oldest girl gave her uncle an uncertain smile before almost running from the room with Berta, Dora, and Darlene close behind.

  Holder laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Must be bad for you to call me stupid. Take a bite of my wife’s good soup. Then, tell us what has happened.”

  The old Holder, the grumpy widower, would already have busted him in the mouth. Not Myra’s husband. He studied his brother for a moment more and spoke with sympathy in his tone.

  Sympathy! This is what a woman did to a strong man!

  The fight left Fred. He obeyed, spooning up a delicious bite. The act of chewing took the edge off the anger and annoyance that rode him. He ate more before he finally spoke.

  Sighing, almost groaning, he laid down his spoon and rested his fisted hands on the table. “That Miss Levitt won’t leave me alone. I need Myra’s help to get her to stop following me.”

  His brother had turned in his chair as Fred spoke. Eye to eye, he caught his older brother’s grin before he took control of it.

  “Yes, go ahead and laugh. If this happened to you or Carl, I would have been rolling on the floor laughing.”

  Fred ran his hands down his face and moaned. “It’s not funny when it happens to you.” Then he put a hand behind his head, rubbing his neck. “Why, the woman was at the privy this morning when I came out, ready with soap and a towel.”

  The tone in Fred’s voice rose, nearing panic. “The privy! I can’t even pee without her knowing about it.”

  Holder did laugh then. It started in as a low chuckle and rose to a full belly laugh. Fred watched his brother fall off his chair and hold his gut as he lay on the kitchen floor, laughing like a lunatic.

  From the other room, Johanna’s soft voice stopped. Soon, four sets of eyes watched their father stand up and wipe away tears. When they saw him smile, the girls left the doorway and returned to their book.

  Myra’s eyes narrowed as she shot a look of reproof at her husband. Being a German man, he ignored it as he continued to chuckle under his breath while he sat down at the table.

  She focused on Fred with a somber frown. “I can see where that would bother anyone. But I don’t see how anything I could do would make a difference.”

  Finally, they’d gotten around to the heart of the matter. Fred wanted to groan in relief. He knew that would only set off his brother’s hilarity so he kept his voice carefully neutral as he spoke. His sheriff’s voice, one he used with drunks and thieves.

  “I need her to be able to confide in someone. Lilah has to get the whole, terrible event out in the open. I’m thinkin’ she’ll see I’m just her rescuer and not the love of her life.”

  He looked at the floor as he finished, “That’s what she calls me.”

  Holder guffawed. “Girl must need to talk badly if she thinks that about you.”

  Amazingly, Myra intervened. “Hush now. Leave your brother alone so we can figure this out.”

  Holder nodded. At that moment, the baby cried. Shocked, Fred stared as his brother rose and retrieved the infant. Wrapped tightly against any early spring air, the little one stared around him. The last time Fred saw him, Samuel was asleep. Today, the three-month-old watched his uncle with interest.

  Mesmerized briefly, Fred stroked a finger down the boy’s cheek. The infant grabbed it and squeezed, bringing a chuckle from his uncle.

  “Sakes alive, that boy is strong.”

  His brother grinned proudly. “Yah, he’ll make a good farmer.”

  Holder loved his girls. That didn’t keep him from glorying in this much wanted son. Silently, Fred sent up a prayer that his brother wouldn’t be as rough on Samuel as their father had been on them. Fred would keep an eye on things, he vowed.

  Then he rethought that vow. Myra had most everything under control here. She’d be the one keeping an eye on her boy as well as on her husband. The woman had changed how he treated Dora and Darlene. She’d never tolerate anyone harming her child. He felt sure of that.

  Pulling his finger away from the baby, he focused on his plan. “Myra, I need you to pull the poison out of that woman somehow.”

  He looked around the tidy kitchen with its polished wood floor. “Please, let her think you need help around her so she has a reason to come out.”

  Myra tilted her head and pressed her lips firmly together. Then she scoffed, “With all my girls to help, I need someone else to do my work? What are you thinking?”

  With his palms up, he pleaded with her. “I’m thinking that there’s a badly hu
rt woman in town who needs a friend.”

  Myra’s skeptical expression melted away. He watched her eyes cloud as sympathy won out. “Of course, I’ll help. Tell her to come out on Friday.”

  Then she shook her head. “No, you’d better bring her out this first time. We can send her back to town in our buggy.”

  He wrinkled his brow. “Why would I need to bring her?” He’d have to spend a half-hour or more with her if he drove her out.

  Her no-nonsense look hinted at the steely determination that made this woman such a wonderful wife and mother. “She’s more likely to come if you drive her here. And, anyhow,” she shook a finger in his face. “This is your plan, not mine.”

  “Yes, my plan. Such as it is.” He snorted and held a hand over his heart. “Thanks for being a fellow conspirator in my hour of misery.”

  Then he grew serious, all sarcasm gone from his voice. “Really, I am desperate.” His shoulders slumped. “Not so much for myself. For her.”

  With one eyebrow raised, Myra tapped a finger to her lips. Speculation sparkled in her eyes. He looked at her blankly for a moment and then went pale.

  “No, don’t even think it.” His head whipped from side to side. “I am not in love.”

  A chorus of giggles sounded from just beyond the kitchen. His nieces obviously thought his discomfort was hilarious. Definitely just like their father, who roared with laughter so that the startled baby started in crying.

  Myra reached for her son. He pulled at her front and rooted his nose in her dark blouse. With a sigh, she looked from Fred to her husband. “Definitely two of a kind when it comes to love.”

  As she left the room, she called over her shoulder to him. “Three days from now. Come right after lunch.”

  Chapter 3

  The Remembering

  The man gripped her naked legs while female hands held her pinned down on the bed. The terrible man, from one of the lumber camps, taunted her, telling her to stop fighting.

  In her dream, the hands on her shoulders became chains. The man transformed into her stepmother, telling her she should give in. “Do what I tell you!” she’d scream at Lilah.