Love Finds You in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin
Page 28
An arm came around her from behind, and Jack pulled her into his arms as the orchestra began another slow dance. “Glad I found you. May I have another dance with the beautiful lady in my arms?”
She giggled. “Do I have any choice?”
“Not if I have anything to do with it. But you’d better behave…I see your parents.” He turned until she had a view. “Let’s work our way over and say hello.” He artfully moved his feet until they came up beside the older couple.
“Well, Margaret, look who’s here.” Dad flashed a grin as he bounced to the beat. “So what do you think, Meggie? Does the Riviera meet your expectations?”
Meg laughed. He hadn’t called her Meggie since she was small. “More so, Dad. It’s breathtaking.”
The couples danced their separate ways, and a few minutes later the music ended. Jack kept his hand on Meg’s waist and looked at her expectantly. Was she to stay with him the rest of the evening? He’d said he’d write down his impressions later at home. No reason why she couldn’t do the same.
Jack took her hand. “Let’s go see my mom and Kate.”
Meg let Jack lead her across the room, loving how he kept his hand tight around hers. They came up to his sister and mother. “Mom, here’s someone I want you to meet. This is Meg.”
Mrs. Wallace greeted Meg with a warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Meg. Jack has told me so much about you. I hope you can visit at the house while I’m here.”
Jack grinned. “We have to work on our article tomorrow, but maybe I can bring her out for dinner tomorrow night.” He looked at Meg. “Okay with you?”
Meg nodded. “Of course. I’d like that.”
“Come on, let’s get another dance in.” Jack tugged her toward the parquet dance floor, as “Dream a Little Dream of Me” filled the air. “We’ll be back in a bit, Mom.”
With some people having left, they had plenty of room, and Jack widened his steps. Meg leaned back and grinned, her eyes twinkling. “You’re a wonderful dancer.”
“Thanks to Kate and me being forced to take dancing lessons.” He twirled her under his arm and drew her in, bringing their cheeks together. She followed him like they’d always been partners. He brought his mouth close to her ear and sang the lyrics like the time before. “Stars shining bright above you, night breezes seem to whisper, ‘I love you,’ birds singing in the sycamore trees, dream a little dream of me.”
Jack leaned back and caught her gaze then snuggled her close and whispered, “I’m really going to miss you if you go to California.” The singer began crooning again, and Jack did too, tightening his arm around her.
When the music wound down, he kept hold of her hand. “Let’s test out that terrace and see if it’s as nice as we thought.”
Still tingling all over from Jack’s crooning in her ear, sounding as though he meant every line, Meg let him lead her across the dance floor past the orchestra. Her knees wobbled, and she grabbed his arm. He slowed and smiled down at her before circling her waist with his arm, pulling her snug against him.
She didn’t want to say good-bye to this man. Ever. Could she take the risk without an immediate commitment from him?
He held the door, and she went through first. A couple standing in the shadows stepped away from an embrace, and the woman giggled.
Jack took her hand and led her to the far end of the terrace. They stopped next to the wall. “Look at the water and how it reflects the moon. Isn’t it just as we imagined?” He settled an arm around her shoulder.
As if God had hung His own mirror ball, a full moon beamed in the sky. Meg snuggled into the crook of Jack’s arm, and he pulled her closer and wrapped her in a hug. She pressed her face against his chest and reached around his torso. Never had she felt so safe and content.
“Those words I was singing in there before…I meant them for you, Meg.”
She stopped breathing and leaned back. He bent down and placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. “I love you, Meg. Don’t go to California.” Without waiting for her to answer, he lowered his head and kissed her. Softly, tenderly.
Finally, the words she wanted to hear. “Oh, Jack, I love you too. I’m sorry I’ve been so mistrustful of you.”
He pressed his fingertips over her mouth. “Sweetheart, I will never hurt you like Matthew did. You’re the only girl for me—the woman I believe God has for me. But if you need time to try your wings in California, go. I’ll be right here, waiting and running the News-Trib.”
She blinked. What was he saying? “You? Running the News-Trib? Why? I don’t understand.”
“This afternoon, Oscar asked me if I wanted to buy the paper. He’s had a lot of time to think while recuperating, and he realizes it’s time to hang up his hat and get out of the paper business. To leave it to the next generation.”
“But how can you own the paper here and run the Beacon for your dad?”
“I’m not going to run the Beacon. We hope Mr. Snow will be there a long time while Kate and I get on with our lives. Working here for the past several months, I’ve realized that running a small paper is more to my liking. Dad knew that, and he and Oscar worked out the plan for me to work here for a year in the hopes that I’d realize what Dad already knew. Of course, when they both got sick, things became a little confused for a while.”
Meg just stared at him.
“All this time, I’d thought Kate wanted to run Dad’s paper, so I turned Oscar down. But he wouldn’t let me say no just yet.” He turned to her and took her face in his hands. “I’m going to go in there in a minute and tell Oscar the deal is on. I’m staying here in Lake Geneva.”
Meg covered her mouth with her hand. How could she ever leave now?
“I’d best do this right.” Jack dropped to one knee and took hold of Meg’s hand.
Her heart pounded against her chest, and she gripped his hand tightly.
“Meg Alden, I love you with all my heart. Will you marry me?”
“Yes. Yes. Yes!”
Jack popped to his feet and grinned. “You do realize that by saying yes, there’s no way you’re moving anywhere…unless I go with you.”
She giggled. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving.”
He bent slightly and brought his lips to hers. A delicious sensation filled every pore of her body. She brought her hand to his neck and the kiss deepened. She loved this man, had for weeks, and he loved her.
The kiss broke, and he whispered, “I hadn’t planned on proposing tonight, so I don’t have a ring. But you’ll get one very soon. How does a late-summer wedding sound? Maybe right here in the ballroom. With Reverend Hellman officiating, of course.”
“Like a dream come true.”
The strains of “Always” drifted from the ballroom, and they began to dance. He crooned into her ear, “I’ll be loving you always, Meg Alden.” He stopped and hugged her. “Soon to be Meg Wallace, reporter extraordinaire.”
She giggled. “Correction. Wife, mother, and columnist extraordinaire.”
Author’s Note
Ever since I began writing stories for publication, I have dreamed of writing a novel set in my hometown of Lake Geneva. What better setting could there be than a beautiful Wisconsin lake and a small town with a colorful history? When opportunity came to write this story, I headed to the Lake Geneva Public Library and spent hours parked in front of a microfilm machine reading nearly every article spanning the years of 1932 and 1933, when the Riviera was built. I not only learned about the stages of construction of the Riv, as we locals like to call it, but also discovered the hearts of the people who lived there at that time—many of whose descendants came to be my classmates.
What I didn’t expect to find was a piece of my heart that had been missing since I moved away. Growing up, I took Lake Geneva for granted. Through my research and writing of Meg and Jack’s story, I came to love my hometown as never before. I am so grateful I had the opportunity to grow up in such a place. Like Meg, I thought I needed to leave to chase my dreams. Now it�
��s been in returning that one of my biggest dreams has come true.
About the Author
PAMELA S. MEYERS grew up in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, where she learned to swim in the shadow of the Riviera, attempted figure-eights on the lake’s frozen waters in winter, and basked on its sunny beach as a teen.
She began telling stories as a child while playing with her collection of paper dolls and the occupants of her dollhouse. Pamela’s tagline, “Take a Sentimental Journey,” aptly describes her stories, which she sets in small towns mostly in her native Wisconsin. She is the author of two published novels and busy working on her third. She has also published articles in dozens of magazines and contributed to a nonfiction compilation.
Pamela makes her home in the Chicago suburbs where, when she isn’t dreaming up new stories, she is involved as a women’s life group leader. She’s also served as an interpreter for the deaf community and in an outreach ministry. Read more at PamelaSMeyers.com.
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