Wistful in Wisconsin

teach you about babies.”
Lilah wiggled closer to Fred, almost like she wanted to crawl behind him to hide. Her eyes lowered, and when she did look at Myra, she smiled shyly. “I am most grateful, Mrs. Sittig.”
Tut-tutting, Myra shook her head. “Now, none of that. This baby will tie us together as good friends. I feel that already, so you must call me Myra.”
She gave the other woman a once-over glance. “You look to be about my size, so clothing for your stay will be no problem.”
Fred watched Lilah’s face relax, the wrinkles in her forehead smoothing out. Silently, he thanked God for the unseen blessing. This unwanted baby seemed to be changing Lilah’s life for the good. Maybe it would be the thing that helped her move past the trauma she refused to face.
Reaching for her right hand, where it cradled the sleeping baby, he squeezed it as best as he could. Feeling her gaze, he looked at his sister-in-law. She wore a knowing smile. Smug would be a good way to describe it.
“What are you thinking over there?”
Myra shook her head, still smiling. “I’m just making a mental prediction. Nothing for you to worry about.”
Fred snorted, quietly so he didn’t wake Blossom. “You must drive Holder crazy.”
Flashing white teeth, Myra didn’t bother to answer him. She gave him, instead, a long, considering look. When she finally smiled, he found the expression disturbing. Out of reflex only, the excuse he gave in his mind, Fred wrapped his arm around Lilah and the baby.
For a reason he couldn’t understand, his nieces began to giggle at his action. Lilah’s face glowed with contentment—and something else he couldn’t name—as she looked up at him. He struggled to pull his eyes from her and pay attention to what Myra was saying.
“She will do much better with a family.”
He caught Myra’s last sentence, and his arm tightened around the two. “No, the woman trusted her baby to Lilah. She needs to keep her.” Then he fixed his attention on the woman cuddled to his side. “That is, if she wants to raise the baby.”
At that, it was Lilah’s turn to tighten her arms. She clasped the sleeping baby close to her and nodded, as if speech were impossible. Tender, moist brown eyes looked first at her charge and then up at him. He’d spent so much time running from her. For some strange reason, he couldn’t remember why as they sat close on the sofa. It was an odd feeling, like a rabbit happy to be caught in the snare.
Myra had said something he missed. It brought a happy chorus from the girls, who jumped around the room like they had on Christmas morning. Something surely got them excited.
His sister-in-law looked at him, obviously waiting for an answer. When his blank face gave away his inattention, she sighed and started again.
“There’s only one thing to do then. The smartest thing, if you think about it.”
Tapping a finger to her lips during a dramatic pause, Myra pointed that finger at him when she finally continued speaking. “You will need to marry her.”
He glanced down at Lilah after Myra said that. The delicate woman wore a pleading look. Her face pinched as the ends of her eyes tilted downward. A movement in her arms pulled his gaze away. Blossom gave a long sigh, though still asleep. Her rosebud lips made sucking sounds then, pulling a smile from him in this tense moment.
Like the embodiment of reason sent to convince him, Myra continued. “You have a loving woman here. A beautiful daughter, if you want her. Marriage will set aside any gossip because of the baby.”
From upstairs, Samuel cried. Myra jumped to her feet. Johanna watched her mother leave before explaining, “He takes a while to calm down if we don’t get to him right when he wakes up.”
With Myra gone, this was a good moment to slip away. Fred unbent himself from the low sofa. Standing over the women in the room, he nodded to each and silently left. As he reached the front door, Myra looked at him from the stairs, the baby in her arms. She shook her head in disappointment and said only, “Running!”
With that one, accusing word, she moved into the front room with her whimpering son. Frozen at the front door, Lilah’s comment floated to him. “Does he always leave with no goodbyes?”
Myra’s words were what stayed in his mind during the ride back to town as he mulled over whether they were true. “Fred doesn’t like goodbyes,” she’d quipped with a bite to her voice. “They’re too emotional.”
Erik Hansen’s accusation echoed through Fred’s brain. He stood, mouth open, and stared at the deputy who’d met him outside the sheriff’s office.
“Me? A father? Where did this idea come from, Hansen?”
Hansen inclined his head. Turning in that same direction, Fred noticed a small knot of people gathered outside the bank. Even from a distance, he easily recognized Mr. Strong in the center.
“Well, you gonna own up to what you done?”
Ignoring the gibe, Fred stomped off. His boots sounded loudly on the boardwalk in front of the first few stores he passed. The angry sound reminded him to regain the grip on his emotions. He would speak to those people as the sheriff, not as an enraged man.
As he neared the bank, one of the men in the group happened to look up. He paled at seeing Fred approach. Saying something to the person next to him, more of the group looked his way.
The livery owner, the hotel owner, the depot master. The banker certainly managed to assemble the more influential people of this small town.
The gathering parted as if a key had opened a door, giving Fred a clear view of James Strong with Mayor Ledbetter at his