Read Online Wisconsin Wedding (Welcome To Tyler, No. 3) by Carla Neggers - Free Book Online
Authors: Carla Neggers
Tags: Fiction, Suspense, Romance, Contemporary, Family Life, small town, Wisconsin, wedding, Brother, spinster, secrets, affair, Past Issues, Relationship, Community, Passionate, Forever Love, Tyler, Department Store, Grand Affair, Independent, Big Event, Reissued
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hot, then switched on the shower. Of course, after that dream, she should probably take a cold bath.
So far she was failing miserably as Miss Marple, and not only because Agatha Christie’s intrepid heroine would never have had such a steamy dream. Before heading to bed, Nora had disguised her voice, pretending she was from back East, and had checked all the obvious places in and around Tyler where Byron Sanders might have decided to rest his untrustworthy head. He wasn’t registered anywhere. Had he pitched his reeking tent on private property? Well,if he was in Tyler, she’d find him. He wasn’t going to do anything—not one single thing—to disrupt Cliff Forrester and Liza Baron’s wedding.
“It’s not your problem, you know,” she said aloud to herself. “Aunt Ellie always warned you against meddling.”
Nora could hear her great-aunt at her most imperious. “Meddling,” she’d said on numerous occasions, “is too often one of the great temptations of the single woman.”
But Nora knew Byron Sanders. He wasn’t nearly as upright and honest and sensitive as he came across on first impression. How could she stand back and let him work his charms on an unsuspecting Cliff and Liza? They’d end up in a spread in a Chicago newspaper.
If any two people could take care of themselves, she knew, it was those two. But still, it was her duty to find out what the weasel was up to.
And she would. Come morning, she’d track him down, for sure.
CHAPTER FOUR
B YRON SAT on a battered Adirondack chair in a clearing along the shore from Timberlake Lodge, the sun sparkling so brightly on the water it hurt his eyes. He’d planned to stay in a motel in the next town, but Cliff had found him an old tent at the lodge and let him pitch it on an out-of-the-way stretch of lakefront. With hardly a word, Cliff had disappeared for the night. He’d reappeared shortly after sunup, bearing stale doughnuts and a thermos of piping-hot black coffee, more from duty, Byron suspected, than from a desire to be nice.
Now Cliff was standing on a rock, staring out at the lake. Byron drank from the thermos cup and dipped his plain doughnut into the coffee to soften it. Even as kids, Cliff hadn’t been picky about food. Byron wasn’t, either, but he did prefer fresh doughnuts.
So far, neither had had much to say. Byron had opted against trying to explain his trip to Tyler three years ago—one attempted explanation in the past twelve hours had already backfired. And from Cliff’s reaction to seeing his younger brother in town, Byron guessed Miss Liza hadn’t yet confessed she’d shot off an invitation to her future in-laws. Byron wasn’t going to step into that particular pile of warm Wisconsin dung. Nor did Cliff initiate any conversation. How had he come to fall in love? What had his life been like the past five years? What were his plans now that he was getting married? Answers would have to wait.Byron was patient. It was enough, for now, that he and his brother were together by a beautiful lake on a cool, bright morning in Wisconsin.
“Are you going to tell me about you and Nora Gates?” Cliff asked without turning around.
Byron sipped his coffee, feeling it—or guilt—burn a path to the pit of his stomach. He’d never told anyone about his brief, fiery, insane affair with Nora Gates. He’d promised her. She’d insisted on calling it, derisively, his “fling.”
Cliff interpreted his brother’s silence in his own way. “This isn’t good, Brother.”
“No.”
Looking around at Byron, Cliff asked, “Does she hate your guts?”
“Apparently.”
“Because of the photos?”
“That’s one reason.”
“I can’t imagine Nora Gates hating anyone,” Cliff said thoughtfully, “but when she asked about you…” He sighed. “Dammit, Byron, did you break that woman’s heart?”
“That woman,” Byron said, popping a soaked piece of doughnut into his mouth, “doesn’t have a heart capable of breaking.
So far she was failing miserably as Miss Marple, and not only because Agatha Christie’s intrepid heroine would never have had such a steamy dream. Before heading to bed, Nora had disguised her voice, pretending she was from back East, and had checked all the obvious places in and around Tyler where Byron Sanders might have decided to rest his untrustworthy head. He wasn’t registered anywhere. Had he pitched his reeking tent on private property? Well,if he was in Tyler, she’d find him. He wasn’t going to do anything—not one single thing—to disrupt Cliff Forrester and Liza Baron’s wedding.
“It’s not your problem, you know,” she said aloud to herself. “Aunt Ellie always warned you against meddling.”
Nora could hear her great-aunt at her most imperious. “Meddling,” she’d said on numerous occasions, “is too often one of the great temptations of the single woman.”
But Nora knew Byron Sanders. He wasn’t nearly as upright and honest and sensitive as he came across on first impression. How could she stand back and let him work his charms on an unsuspecting Cliff and Liza? They’d end up in a spread in a Chicago newspaper.
If any two people could take care of themselves, she knew, it was those two. But still, it was her duty to find out what the weasel was up to.
And she would. Come morning, she’d track him down, for sure.
CHAPTER FOUR
B YRON SAT on a battered Adirondack chair in a clearing along the shore from Timberlake Lodge, the sun sparkling so brightly on the water it hurt his eyes. He’d planned to stay in a motel in the next town, but Cliff had found him an old tent at the lodge and let him pitch it on an out-of-the-way stretch of lakefront. With hardly a word, Cliff had disappeared for the night. He’d reappeared shortly after sunup, bearing stale doughnuts and a thermos of piping-hot black coffee, more from duty, Byron suspected, than from a desire to be nice.
Now Cliff was standing on a rock, staring out at the lake. Byron drank from the thermos cup and dipped his plain doughnut into the coffee to soften it. Even as kids, Cliff hadn’t been picky about food. Byron wasn’t, either, but he did prefer fresh doughnuts.
So far, neither had had much to say. Byron had opted against trying to explain his trip to Tyler three years ago—one attempted explanation in the past twelve hours had already backfired. And from Cliff’s reaction to seeing his younger brother in town, Byron guessed Miss Liza hadn’t yet confessed she’d shot off an invitation to her future in-laws. Byron wasn’t going to step into that particular pile of warm Wisconsin dung. Nor did Cliff initiate any conversation. How had he come to fall in love? What had his life been like the past five years? What were his plans now that he was getting married? Answers would have to wait.Byron was patient. It was enough, for now, that he and his brother were together by a beautiful lake on a cool, bright morning in Wisconsin.
“Are you going to tell me about you and Nora Gates?” Cliff asked without turning around.
Byron sipped his coffee, feeling it—or guilt—burn a path to the pit of his stomach. He’d never told anyone about his brief, fiery, insane affair with Nora Gates. He’d promised her. She’d insisted on calling it, derisively, his “fling.”
Cliff interpreted his brother’s silence in his own way. “This isn’t good, Brother.”
“No.”
Looking around at Byron, Cliff asked, “Does she hate your guts?”
“Apparently.”
“Because of the photos?”
“That’s one reason.”
“I can’t imagine Nora Gates hating anyone,” Cliff said thoughtfully, “but when she asked about you…” He sighed. “Dammit, Byron, did you break that woman’s heart?”
“That woman,” Byron said, popping a soaked piece of doughnut into his mouth, “doesn’t have a heart capable of breaking.
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