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

by Marisa Masterson

  Was it only this morning?

  Now, eddies of awareness and pleasure raced through her when he neared her. Or when he touched her!

  It was a short walk to the lake, so they arrived too quickly for her. She’d enjoyed Hart holding her hand. One more memory to treasure after he realized that she wasn’t a decent person and left for Cashton.

  At the lake, several men crowded around a sheet had laid on the shore. The reduced water level shocked Zelly. The drought was truly terrible for the lake to be this low.

  Moving closer to the group of men, Hart hailed them and asked, “Haven’t you picked an odd place for a party?”

  Deputy Frederick Sittig, Carl’s brother, stepped away from the group and spread his hands to keep them from coming closer. “Best stop there and not let the lady see this. A kind of grim sight for a little gal.”

  “Zelly, wait here. Let me go and I’ll be right back. That okay with you Deputy?” He looked to Sittig for approval before approaching the ring of men.

  Craning her neck, she tried to peek through the group of men. The deputy’s words increased her curiosity.

  After glancing down at the sheet, Hart spoke briefly with a few of the men. Then he grabbed hold of her hand and began walking. As they strolled, he made no attempt at conversation. Was it so gruesome?

  “Did someone drown?” She decided to break the silence. Her curiosity was full to bursting and needed to be satisfied.

  “Can’t be sure? Not much left of them to know what happened. At least I couldn’t get much just by looking.” This didn’t tell her anything, she decided.

  “What exactly did you see? I can handle it.” She squeezed his hand as she spoke.

  With an upward glance at the soft white clouds and the blue sky, he stood silently. When he looked back at her, he sighed. “You’re not going to drop it until you have details, are you?”

  She giggled. He looked at her oddly and her face reddened. She immediately realized how inappropriate it was to laugh, considering the situation they had left.

  “I’m sorry to laugh. I know the circumstances are …

  He cut her off with a shake of his head. “I was just surprised to hear you giggle. You don’t do it often.” He gave her an approving look.

  She gave no response; she simply soaked in his approval. “The sound is so wonderful,” he said with a tone filled by tenderness.

  “You want details. Wait for a few minutes. I’ll tell you and your ma at the same time.”

  Before they rounded the curve and would be able to see the Fuller house, she tried to drop his hand. His grip remained gentle but firm, however, and her hand stayed in his. Though she might be embarrassed for Ma’am to see them, he obviously held no shame about his regard for her.

  Stopping, he turned to face her, holding tightly to her hand. “Zelly, do you know how important you are to me?”

  “How can I? We never talked much before Rebecca’s wedding. You just stared a lot when we were around each other.”

  Her face reddened at the memory of those meals at the Hoffmans. His eyes were always on her. She hadn’t understood why and when she asked Rebecca about it her friend had only laughed.

  Even if it embarrassed her to remember him staring, he didn’t seem the least bit ashamed by it. He just ginned at her while they shared the memory of those dinners.

  “I, well, was waiting for you to get a little older. Maybe for you not to hide behind Rebecca all the time.” He looked her in the eye.

  Instead of allowing her to say anything, he lowered his mouth and kissed her, emphasizing the sincerity of his declaration. “Think about a future for us Zelly. Don’t say anything right now.”

  They continued then, rounding the corner. The Fuller house was in sight. Their magical interlude was done, filling her with disappointment.

  She now left the romance of the previous moment to return to real life. That meant living with Ma’am.

  Mrs. Fuller stood frozen in the same spot on the porch as when they’d left rather than sitting to wait for them. Her hand wrapped tightly around one of the weathered posts holding up the small porch’s roof.

  Odd tension radiated from her. How unusual. Ma’am gives off a sort of anger and coldness typically.

  Once they stood in front of Ada, Hart let go of her hand. “Mueller Lake’s the lowest anyone can remember. Somebody found two skeletons there earlier today. Sheriff’s deputy plans to take them into town.”

  Ada Fuller gripped the post more tightly, her knuckles now white. “Anyone know who they are? Did they find anything on them?”

  Having no other details to share, Hart only shrugged. Without thanking him for the information, Mrs. Fuller entered the house, leaving the front door open behind her.

  Watching through that open door, Zelly saw Ma’am close herself into her bedroom. “I’ve got to get something made for her to eat.” Zelly turned away, placing her foot on the first rung of the steps.

  Reaching out a hand, Hart caressed her face. When she looked back at him, he leaned forward and kissed her lightly. “Goodnight my sweet Zelda.”

  She felt like an elegant lady instead of a chore girl when he said her given name. One more memory for me to treasure after he leaves.

  Even with the terrible thing Ram had tried to do, the discovery of skeletons so near to her home, and all of her hard work at the Hoffmans, it had still been a wonderful day!

  Chapter 6

  Hart hated watching Zelly reluctantly go into the house and close the front door. The thought of her spending one more moment with that woman frightened him. Ada reminded him of a crafty snake and his skin crawled.

  That evening he sat at the kitchen table and soaked his knuckles in cold water and Epsom salt. For a man who had never been in a fight, he’d used his fists quite a bit in the last two days.

  He knew he should leave off soaking his sore hands and go to bed. The rest of the family was tucked up into bed and had been for at least an hour. He reached for a flour sack towel, wiping his hands dry.

  The knock on the door alarmed him. Not only was it unexpected in the quiet night but also he noted an urgent rhythm to the wrapping. His uncle must be awake because Hart heard feet hit the floor in the room above him.

  Opening the door a few inches, Hart peeked out at the caller. Sheriff Redmond’s stern expression greeted him along with a barked, “Open up!”

  He opened the door wide and gestured with a sweep of his arm for the Sheriff to enter. In a flash, the sheriff grabbed that arm along with Hart’s other one. He had him handcuffed with a metallic snap.

  With a hand on Hart’s back he pushed him towards the door.

  “What? Wait one minute!” Elias Hoffman rushed into the kitchen and bellowed his order. Hart was relieved to see him.

  “Got a warrant for your boarder’s arrest. Keep out of this Elias.” Never a friendly man, Sheriff Redmond’s deep voice oozed menace this night.

  “What you charging him with? And don’t you think you should question him first?” He imagined Onkel Elias must be struggling to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

  “Won’t matter what he has to say, considering who’s sworn out that warrant. You tried to rob the wrong fellow Hart Bahr.”

  Robbed someone? Hart stood, mystified. He tried to turn to look at the sheriff. Redmond shoved him back around.

  “Sheriff, you aren’t taking him until I know who made the complaint!”

  The sternness in Elias’s voice cracked the tough sheriff’s resolve. The man motioned for him, still in handcuffs, to sit at the kitchen table. Redmond, likewise, sat and tipped his hat back from his brow before speaking.

  “Mr. Strong came to my office bout supper time. Said Hart jumped his boy out here in the woods on your land, Elias. Said Hart demanded money and then left his boy Ram in bad shape.” Hart vigorously shook his head, which the sheriff ignored.

  “From the chatter at my supper table, I know you’ve got the back end of a tale with no head. My own boy was there and s
aw what happened.” Elias turned to leave the room. Hart thought maybe he meant to get Sven out of bed.

  “Won’t matter what your boy says Elias. Both your boys are too young to be believed. Now if there’d been another grown up…”

  At that, Hart stopped listening and interrupted. “Ram’s a rapist. Or at least he wanted to be. Ask Zelly Fuller!”

  The sheriff looked shocked at the mention of rape. Then he shook his head.

  “I’m done talkin’ to people tonight. Wasn’t it enough I had to deal with dead people found like a pile of bones in the lake today?”

  “You can sit in jail and I’ll ask around come mornin’. We’re goin’ now.” The sheriff leapt out of his chair in a wink, pulling Hart up as well. With a shove to his back, he had him out the door.

  “Do I need to tie you or you gonna sit like a gentleman in my wagon?”

  With a shake of his head, Hart square his shoulders. “No need to tie me. The handcuffs are enough embarrassment. I don’t want to be driven through town in ropes.”

  “I’ve got to make a good show of it you know. It’s Mr. Strong who pays most my salary. Tomorrow maybe we’ll see what I can do for you.”

  The loud, fast knocking on the front door jerked Zelly awake. Her pounding heart echoed the knocking as she threw a blanket around her shoulders and raced to answer the door.

  Elias and Greta Hoffman, along with two sleepy boys, stood on there. By their grim faces, she assumed someone had died. Oh no! Hart!

  She squeaked out, “Is it bad?” Greta’s nod caused her to draw in a breath and hold it, preparing herself for the news.

  “Sheriff’s got him in jail. Ram says Hart robbed him.”

  While being in jail wasn’t good, at least Hart wasn’t hurt or worse. “Can you take me to the jail? I have to let that sheriff know the truth.”

  At Elias’s nod she said, “Give me a minute to dress.” Before entering her room, she saw her mother peek around her own bedroom door. When Ada realized that Zelly saw her, she quickly shut and locked her door.

  She threw on the dark blue calico dress she’d worked in earlier in the day. She left her hair down, not wanting to spend unnecessary time on her appearance. Hart was in trouble!

  Within minutes, she returned. The tired and disheveled group climbed into the Hoffman wagon. During the short trip to town, Elias recounted events that left her shaking her head.

  “It’s no use just going to the sheriff then.” She knew the Strong family was influential in Idyll Wood. Still, the sheriff’s blatant pandering disappointed her. “We need to find Manny.”

  Greta echoed the name, “Manny?”

  “Hart told me he’d been nearby when I needed him today because of what he learned from Manny. Since Manny’s a Strong, maybe his word will hold some sway with that sheriff.”

  From Manny’s reputation, one that even the women knew, Elias started their search at Meyers’ Biergarten. Leaving everyone in the wagon, he went into the saloon alone.

  While time seemed to lag and stop, Elias did eventually return with an unsteady Manny. Ralph Stinson, the scoundrel, raced out after Elias and Manny, yelling something about getting help.

  Would the sheriff believe Manny since he was drunk? Though Zelly had her doubts, they had to try.

  Zelly craned her neck to see through the open door behind the sheriff’s desk. By the light of a candle Hart had been given, she spied him standing at the bars of a cell.

  The sight of him made her want to run past everyone to be near him. That wouldn’t help him out of his situation, however. Things needed clearing up so she focused on that task.

  Elias pushed Manny slightly forward toward the sheriff and commanded, “Tell him what you know about your brother and this bet.” The slight push was enough to knock Manny nearly off his feet. Elias grabbed his arm and steadied him.

  Shadows danced around the small office from extra lamps the sheriff lit soon after they’d arrived. He directed a disgusted look at them a few minutes ago as they crowded into his jail.

  That disgust deepened as he noted Manny’s drunken stumbling. “Can’t you folks go home and come back in the morning?”

  She trusted Elias to do the talking and not to retreat so she kept quiet. “Sheriff! With all your pandering to the Strongs, I’d think you’d want to hear what a Strong has to say.”

  “Alright. Manny what ya got to tell me?” Giving a sigh that almost sounded like a growl, the sheriff sat behind his desk and picked up a pencil to take notes.

  “Ram’s been bragging about a horse he’s gonna win from Ralph. Says he’ll get it after tumbling a girl. Told me today he was gonna do something to her on her way home from work.” Manny licked dry lips and looked around for something to drink, Zelly supposed.

  “Hart and I figured out it was Zelly he was meaning. That’s why Hart was out there. I told him ‘bout it.” Manny seemed to deflate after finishing his story. Elias helped him into a chair set against one of the jail’s walls.

  The sheriff turned to her. “What do you know about this?” His gaze wasn’t friendly and his tone was hard as he spoke to her.

  “I saw Ram come out of a group of trees when I was walking through Mr. Hoffman’s field. Sven was with me so I sent him for help. I ran, but Ram caught me.” Though she was trying to control her emotions as she recounted the event, Zelly couldn’t smother a small sob.

  Mrs. Hoffman placed a comforting arm around her, much like she had done earlier that morning. Was it really less than twenty-four hours ago? The touch gave her strength to resume her story.

  “He pushed a handkerchief into my mouth so I couldn’t scream. Then he pulled me back toward the trees and told me I was going to be full of him, whatever that means.”

  At Mrs. Hoffman’s gasp, Zelly knew she had been right in thinking it was something dirty. Greta Hoffman’s arm squeezed more tightly around her shoulder in response to the words. Next she spoke softly, urging Zelly to finish telling the sheriff about the attack.

  “Hart tackled Ram before he could get me into the woods. Sven found Hart on his way home, you see, and sent him to help me.” When she mentioned his name, Sven stepped forward and vigorously nodded his head, a lock of hair on his brow bobbing with the movement.

  “While Ram and Hart fought, Ralph Stinson came out of the woods. I already had an oak branch in my hands as a weapon. I poked it, hard, into Ralph’s stomach and he ran.”

  As if hearing his name had conjured him, Ralph Stinson walked through the jailhouse door along. Mr. Strong, who followed him, immediately shouted orders.

  “Arrest these people, Sheriff. They kidnapped my boy right out of Meyers’ place. They are making too much about Ram’s monkeyshine with a pretty girl.”

  As he finished the accusation, Manny rose from the chair. He stepped around Elias and into his father’s line of sight.

  “Thank goodness you’re okay. Ralph ran to get me when you were forced out of Meyers’ saloon by that bully.” Mr. Strong looked past Manny to glare at Elias Hoffman.

  She knew Mr. Hoffman hated to let a challenge go unanswered. It didn’t surprise her when he spoke up before the sheriff had a chance to say anything.

  “Ezekiel Strong, it’s no wonder I drive all the way to Wausau to bank. You are such a fool.” With those words the two men stood toe to toe and she feared fisticuffs were about to break out in the jail.

  Almost nose to nose now with Mr. Strong, Elias still shouted. “Why don’t you ask yourself why your boy was out at my place?”

  “Hold on you two!” The sheriff’s arm became a fence between the two men to separate them.

  “Mr. Strong, I know I get part of my pay from you. But that don’t make your words as good as God with me.” Suddenly, he is deciding to be fair.

  “Sit down and listen. Both of you.” The sharply growled command diffused the palpable tension and both men grudgingly obeyed the lawman.

  Sheriff Redmond repeated to Mr. Strong what Manny and she told him. When he mentioned Ralph’s
presence at the woods, that man jumped up and vehemently denied being there.

  “Make him lift his shirt. He’ll have a mark or bruise. I poked him hard,” Zelly insisted

  Another shake of Ralph’s head didn’t stop Ezekiel Strong from wrenching open Ralph’s shirt. The sheriff came around his desk and held a lamp close to the man.

  Red and blue radiated from a rounded mark to the left of Ralph’s navel. Everyone in the room saw the obvious beginnings of a bruise on his stomach.

  With this confirmation of her story, Mr. Strong shrank, sinking back into his chair. Ralph skittered to the darkest corner of the room and glared at Zelly. However, no one spoke, waiting for Mr. Strong to comment first on what he’d seen.

  Unwilling to lose the opportunity to speak directly to Ezekiel Strong, Zelly broke the stillness. “Honestly, Hart didn’t take anything from your boy. Nothing except the chance to hurt me.” She cast a pleading gaze at him.

  Mr. Strong nodded his head and sighed. “Sheriff, I would like to withdraw my complaint. Please bring Hart Bahr out so I can apologize to him.”

  Two young voices raised a loud cheer. She startled at the noise. She’d forgotten them in tension of the last few moments.

  Sheriff Redmond put a finger to his hat and tipped it back from his brow. Looking at Mr. Strong he shook his head. “Not to put too fine a point on it, sir, but it’s rightly Ram who should withdraw the complaint.”

  Disappointed, she looked from the sheriff to the two boys who had been cheering. Both of their faces were etched with confusion. She felt herself tense.

  “I’m speaking for Ram. Just get it done!” His bark told all those gathered in the room that Mr. Strong definitely did not like to be countermanded.

  Soon Hart was shaking hands with Mr. Strong while ignoring Ralph’s outstretched paw. She couldn’t blame him. Forgiveness was a difficult thing to give at the best of times. Late on a Monday night could not be considered the best of times.

  Later, after they were headed back out of town, Hart kissed her on the cheek and said, “My hero.”