Lonely In Longtree (9 page)

Eleven

Every way of a man is right in his own eyes:

but the
Lord
pondereth the hearts.

Proverbs 21:2

“Watch me, Ma!”

Jerry Van Huysen jumped off the swim platform with a modest splash. When he surfaced, Beulah and Marva applauded and exclaimed to the boy's satisfaction. Myles treaded water nearby, watching over the flock of young swimmers.

Listening with one ear to Beulah's chatter, Marva tried to soak in the beauty of her surroundings, to store it up for memories. This picnic was the last event of the Longtree vacationers' holiday at the lodge. Tomorrow they would load back on the train and head south. Somewhere behind her she heard Monte's deep chuckle. He must be talking with one of the other families. Would he come and sit with his brother's family to eat his meal?

An ache rose inside her chest. The idea of leaving, of never seeing this beautiful place again—of never seeing Monte again—did not bear contemplation.

“Funniest story you ever heard. . .” he was saying. His voice faded for several beats, then she heard “. . .still doesn't know the truth.” Laughter followed.

Hearing Beulah speak Monte's name, Marva refocused on the current conversation. “. . .come back anytime we want to. You know, he insisted that we pay nothing for our lodging, but of course it would be best if that news didn't spread since he and Mr. Stowell can hardly afford to lodge our entire group for free.”

“He and Mr. Stowell?”

Beulah spooned applesauce into Ginny's waiting mouth. “Yes. They're partners, you know. Mr. Stowell bought half ownership of the lodge last winter. He runs most of the business end of things. That way Monte has time for his writing again. I thought you knew all this.”

Marva tried not to let her face reveal her confusion. “I probably heard it at one time but forgot. You're saying that Lakeland Lodge originally belonged entirely to your husband's brother? He owns the lodge?”

Beulah nodded. “Monte's been keeping track of our family for years, mostly by reading our town newspaper. He got the idea of advertising his lodge in the
Longtree Enquirer,
and of course it worked. We came without any idea that Myles's brother lived here. All our arrangements were made through Mr. Stowell.”

“Oh.” Without any idea—she could relate to that part.

“I thought you knew all this, Marva,” Beulah said again. “You were at our house that first night when Monte explained everything.”

“I must have been outside with Trixie during that part of the story.” Marva's heart pounded so hard that she felt dizzy. All this time she had assumed Monte merely worked at the lodge as fishing and hunting guide. Remembering his air of command, his office inside the lodge, and the respect shown him by staff members, she suddenly felt stupid. How blind could a woman be?

She rested her forehead on her open hand. “But why the secrecy? Why didn't he come to Longtree to visit his brother? I don't understand.”

Beulah sat up straight, a spoonful of applesauce poised in midair. “If you didn't hear him tell his story, I really don't think it's my place to pass it on to you. He had his reasons, Marva. Maybe you should ask him yourself.”

Ginny voiced a protest, and the applesauce quickly entered her mouth.

Marva tried to laugh, but it sounded strangled. “I hardly know him well enough for that, Beulah. You're right—it's not my business to know his motivations.”

A step sounded behind her, and Monte himself settled beside Marva on the quilt, folding his long legs awkwardly. “Hello, ladies. I hope you're enjoying this fine day. I ordered it for your pleasure.”

“So thoughtful of you, brother,” Beulah said with a smile. “I also appreciate your getting the applesauce for Ginny. She was too hungry to wait.”

Ginny crawled across the quilt and climbed into her uncle's lap, smiling from ear to ear. Monte appeared startled yet pleased.

“Oh, let me clean her up,” Marva offered. “She'll get applesauce all over you.”

The baby protested, but Monte held her still so Marva could wipe her chubby face.

“Thank you.” His eyes twinkled. “I hope you're all as hungry as Ginny. The kitchen crew prepared a feast. They'll be setting up on the outdoor tables soon.”

“My tribe is working up an appetite.” Beulah indicated Myles and the swimming boys. “Some of the men are fishing—their last opportunity to catch that monster fish.”

“My father never caught a muskie, but he can't say enough about his half-dozen nice walleye and that big bass he pulled in last week,” Marva said.

“And Myles and the boys must have nearly emptied this side of the lake of bluegill and perch.” Beulah chuckled. “Monte, this has been the most wonderful, relaxing holiday! We can never thank you enough.”

He focused on Ginny, who had pulled out his tie to chew on. “Don't try. These have been some of the best days of my life, too.”

Marva caught his glance in her direction. What, exactly, was he implying? A trickle of doubt entered her turbulent pool of thought. Was he playing a joke on her? Had he written notes under the name of “Lucky in Lakeland” to build up a lonely woman's dreams only as an amusing diversion?

Had he known all the time that her search for an unmarried lodge owner was actually a search for him? If so, and she began to suspect that this was the case, he had a cruel sense of humor and was not the man she had believed him to be.

He had attended the church meetings Rev. Schoengard held on Sundays and entered into the worship with apparent sincerity. Was it all an act?

Or had his letters been sincere? Beulah's intimation of some secret in Monte's past made her think. Hadn't Myles mentioned something years ago about his deceased brother's scandalous past? But she couldn't recall the details. Maybe Monte feared rejection. Could her own self-doubt and insecurity cause her to misjudge the intentions of a good man? How could she learn the truth?

“I invited some local acquaintances to the picnic,” Monte said. “They should arrive soon. Two of the local vacation lodge
owners. You'll remember Mr. Hendricks, Miss Obermeier. He
is eager to see you again.”

His sidelong glance held a glimmer of mischief, and Marva's suspicions strengthened. He was laughing at her!

Trixie suddenly tripped on the edge of the quilt and crash-landed beside Marva, bringing with her an abundance of sand. An instant later, a very wet and sand-encrusted hound vaulted the toddler and sprawled in the middle of the quilt, tail lashing.

“Ralph! Off,” Monte shouted. “Bad dog.”

By the time the quilt had been shaken out, sand brushed from the toddler, and the dog tied up at Monte's cabin, the lodge staff had finished setting out a picnic luncheon on tables in the open area near the playground. Myles took the boys up to their cabin to change out of their swimming costumes while Beulah and Marva prepared plates for them.

As the children distracted his relatives, Monte pulled Marva aside for a moment. “Would you like me to bring them to you here, or shall I introduce you later?”

“Of whom are you speaking?”

“Mr. Hendricks and Mr. DeSamprio.”

“Why did you invite them here?” Anger sharpened her voice.

“To help you out, of course. I know you never got the chance to interview Hendricks the other day.”

Hot blood rushed into her face. She could think of nothing, absolutely nothing, to say. Did he know? He must know! And if he knew, he
must
be. . . Anger and humiliation fomented in her belly until she felt ill. Rather than spew out questions and accusations, she jerked her arm from his grasp and returned to Beulah, who was, thankfully, too distracted by her children's disputes and scuffles to notice Marva's agitation.

❧

Monte had a sudden impulse to go beat his head against a tree.
Idiot!

Startling revelations raced through his head. Rather than think through his jumbled motivations, he hurried away to find Pete DeSamprio and Mel Hendricks, the two lodge owners he had invited to join the picnic. Their company might serve to distract him from guilty thoughts and convictions.

Neither of the visitors had any idea why he had invited them to join his lodge picnic, but they dug into the spread of food without reservation. “Good chow, Van Huysen,” DeSamprio said, shifting a mouthful into one cheek. “Great view. You ask us here to rub our noses in it, or what?”

Monte tried to smile. “Maybe we can get tips and ideas from each other and band together to bring more business north. This group read about my lodge in their local newspaper. We offered reduced rates for a large party.”

At that moment, the minister requested silence for a blessing on the food. DeSamprio and Hendricks followed Monte's lead by removing their hats and bowing their heads. Rev. Schoengard gave thanks for the luncheon, requesting God's blessing on those who had prepared it and asking for safety during tomorrow's journey home. As soon as the pastor said, “Amen,” the men resumed eating.

Monte brightened, seeing Hardy strolling in their direction with a loaded plate in hand. He waved his partner over. “Join us.” Within minutes, Hardy had the two men discussing advertising and profit margins, and Monte could let his attention wander.

Casually he scanned the grounds for Marva. To his surprise, she was seated at the next picnic table with her parents and the Schoengards. He rested his elbow on the tabletop and his chin on his palm and let his eyes drink her in. With her white skin and that stunning hair against the backdrop of the deep blue lake, she made a striking picture.

She glanced up and caught his gaze but immediately looked away. He watched her try but fail to finish her luncheon. Folding her napkin, she laid it on her plate and glanced once more at Monte. He smiled and nodded. A little frown line appeared between her brows, and she quickly stood up.

Monte rose to intercept her as she left the table. “Leave your plate on the table. The staff will clean up.”

She set down her plate. “Do you have something of importance to say, Mr. Van Huysen?”

“You don't wish to talk to Mr. DeSamprio and Mr. Hendricks?”

“I do not.” She propped her fists on her hips and looked him in the eye. “If you have nothing further to say, I believe I shall go inside and begin packing.”

“You look lovely today, Miss Obermeier. Like. . .like summertime.”

She bobbed a curtsy. “Why, thank you, kind sir. Good day.” And she walked away.

He winced behind her back.

Jealous of his own pseudonym, that's what he was. Why couldn't Marva forget her newspaper beau and love
him
—just plain Monte Van Huysen? Did she find him irritating in person? Maybe he smelled bad or had some annoying habit of which he was unaware.

Hardy approached him and clapped him on the shoulder. “I know just how you feel. That is one peculiar woman. I imagine she's mentioned to you a man who communicated with her through a newspaper.”

“I know something about it.”

Hardy chuckled without mirth. “I figured she asked you to invite Pete and Mel here. Did she ever talk to them?”

“No.”

“Can't say I'm surprised. I'm thinking she's the type who likes a man in theory better than a man in the flesh. Try not to break your heart over her pretty face, partner. You won't be the first or the last, I'd guess. Oh look—there goes Mel after her.”

Sure enough, Mel Hendricks followed Marva toward the lodge. Monte barely restrained a groan.

❧

Marva gritted her teeth to keep back tears. She had to force a smile at Dorothy Hilbert when she passed her on the path to the lodge; almost everyone else must be down at the shore. She could only hope her parents would linger and talk for at least another hour, giving her time to control her overwrought emotions.

That man! That beast! She wanted to kick him in the shins. She would love to give his mustache a sharp tug and smack the smile off his face. How dare he mock her openly! How dare he bring those men to meet her!

“Miss Obermeier!”

At the sound of this hail, she turned on the path. Mr. Hendricks approached, his smile revealing a gold tooth. “I trust you're fully recovered? Mr. Van Huysen told me the other day that you'd attempted to drive to my lodge to interview me. Do you write for a Milwaukee paper?”

“No sir, I don't.” Heat rolled up Marva's throat and flooded her cheeks. “I simply wished to. . . Oh, never mind. The reason no longer exists. I'm ever so sorry you came all this way to no purpose.”

Puzzlement spread over his pleasant face. “It was no trouble, I assure you. Mr. Stowell told me you especially wished to interview unmarried lodge owners in the Northwoods. I'm a widower. Does that count?”

She shook her head. “The man I'm looking for has never married. Thank you anyway, Mr. Hendricks.”

She turned and rushed up the lodge steps before he could say another word. Once inside, she ran to her empty room and started packing. Anger flowed through her every movement, and she had to refold several items before she could pack them.

I don't care if I ever see that man again!

Was he really a jokester without a sensible thought in his head? No, that was too harsh a judgment. Myles and Beulah esteemed him highly, and the children adored their uncle. He had befriended most of the men in the party while guiding them to the best fishing spots on the lake.