Wistful in Wisconsin

ever seen her use a lick of common sense he couldn’t remember when.
Securing the buggy’s leathers, he hopped down. Opening the white gate, he walked up the rock path to her door. Before knocking, his eyes were drawn to the porch swing. A light wind set it into motion and, for a moment, he saw himself sitting in it with his arm around delicate female shoulders. A lovely face tipped up to him, waiting for a kiss. In his fantasy, he realized it was Lilah.
Where did that thought come from? He didn’t even like the girl, just felt sorry for her.
Ignoring the swing, he knocked hard on her front door. When it didn’t open, he knocked again.
The door opened a bit, enough for Lilah’s face to appear. “Please go around to the back door.” Her words were softly whispered.
It had been a while since she’d used anything but her high, chirping voice with him. He blamed surprise for the zing of attraction that raced through him at her soft, husky tone. No way could he imagine being interested in this pest.
The door shut noiselessly, carefully. The movement pricked his curiosity. Here too something was not right today.
Moving down the few porch steps, he followed a stone path around the house to the small back porch. It was covered and was large enough for a couple chairs. He could imagine sitting out there, enjoying his morning coffee as he watched the sun rise.
The thought sent a bolt of fear through him. Why would he dream about this woman’s home?
The spring on the screen door whined as it stretched. He looked away from the horizon to see Lilah holding the back door open to him. She smiled welcomingly, even though she held one finger to her pursed lips.
On the table, he spied the goodies basket she carried around town. Next to it sat an elegant picnic hamper and a bushel basket. Its dirty slats contrasted with the gleaming yellow hamper, making him wonder where she found it. He couldn’t imagine something so old in her new house.
“Do you want me to—”
“Shhhhh!” Her hiss cut into his words, silencing him. The behavior was odd, even for her. He looked around the room in confusion, unable to see any need for quiet.
At his look, she pointed to the bushel basket. A towel covered its top, so he couldn’t see into it. A soft whine came from inside, and then he knew.
She’d gotten a puppy. Actually, that was a wonderful idea. It would be company for her and distract her from pursuing him, maybe.
Lifting the basket, he moved to the door. She held it open for him. Outside he waited on the porch for her. Only a minute or so passed before she joined him, carrying the other two baskets.
March sunshine glinted on her white skin when she raised her face upward and smiled. He watched her joy at the day. Something squeezed in his chest at the sight. Lilah certainly did look pretty with her hair done up in ringlets that hung against her dark blue coat.
Annoyed at his thoughts, Fred stomped to the buggy. A throaty laugh sounded behind him, stiffening his shoulders.
She knew he’d found her attractive. This was part of some game she was playing. He needed to keep that in the front of his mind so he wasn’t lured by her charms. And he did find her charming. Alluring, even.
While he might be annoyed at the situation and her, he remembered his manners. After setting the bushel basket on the floor of the buggy, he took the others from her. Stowing them in the box attached behind the buggy’s body, he returned to her side.
Wordlessly, he held out his hand. She took it with pink cheeks. Her hands were gloved. Still, he felt a tingle of awareness as he helped her into the buggy.
Strange! Could this day get any more odd?
And then he heard it. Not the whine or small woof he expected from the puppy. It let out a weak cry, like he’d heard from Holder’s babies.
Babies! She had a baby in the bushel basket. Where did she get a baby?
Lilah watched Fred’s mouth gape when the infant mewled out its unhappiness. She didn’t know quite what it needed. That didn’t stop her from pulling back the towel to look into its basket.
Small and very red, the baby’s head was bald and its limbs were very thin. Lilah had never held a baby. She didn’t know if this one had been starved or if they all looked this way.
Since Fred’s sister-in-law had a small baby, Lilah hoped she could get the needed answers from her. After all, she would need some instruction to care for the infant.
Looking up from the basket, Lilah struggled to keep her high, girlish voice quiet enough not to alarm the baby. After all, she was sure people had to whisper around a baby. She’d visited a married former classmate once. The woman had met her at the door with a finger to her lips, cautioning to be quiet for the baby.
So she softly chirped, “What do you think that baby wants?”
His jaw clenched as he stared at her. Looking down at the baby, he shook his head. “What’d you go get one if you don’t know how to take care of it?”
Her chirp turned angry at that remark, like a blue jay blasting a cat that had been in her nest. “You think I went to your brother’s store and ordered up a bag of flour and, ‘Oh, add a baby to that order, please.’”
Stupidly, he ignored the trap. Fred’s head bobbed, agreeing with her silly statement. Mostly, he hoped that it would give her a dislike of him.
His hope burst at her shrill words. “Well, that just goes to show how