Half Moon Lake

By Alice Levine

Half Moon Lake takes place in northern Wisconsin in Indian territory. Brittany Tyler, a young attorney, returns to the small town founded by her ancestors to find her lakeside home in danger of being confiscated. Larry Sweetwater, part Native American, tries to help her face the obstacles facing her, but her hopes of building a new life are nearly shattered.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 9, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503544154

Alice Levine

Author Bio coming soon.

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 by Alice Levine.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2015902449

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-5035-4414-7

                Softcover        978-1-5035-4416-1

                eBook             978-1-5035-4415-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 04/06/2015

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Contents

Northern Wisconsin 1975

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Dedicated to my children

Judith

Jean

Laban

Susan

Sol

And to my beloved Bert

NORTHERN WISCONSIN 1975

CHAPTER ONE

T he sullen-faced man lounged insolently in front of the courtroom door, his hunting jacket bulging suspicio u sly.

Excuse me, I murmured, expecting him to step aside. But he remained there, feet wide apart, arrogantly picking his teeth. Finally, gripping my handbag and briefcase, I slid past him, opened the door, and slipped into a back row seat.

Sporting a flowered shirt under his open black robe, the judge presided beneath a map of the county, looking, I thought, faintly uneasy. Below his bench a legal stenographer punched out symbols on her machine. The jury box stood vacant, and through the long narrow windows, the pale morning sun lighted particles of dust as they drifted over the nearly empty courtroom.

An imposing silver-haired man faced the judge. Dressed in handsome tweeds, he held a gold pen which he clicked on and off as he spoke.

Your honor, I offer my personal check made out to the town of Taylorsville. $10,000 as down payment on the Tyler property. It bears tomorrow’s date which marks the twenty years specified in Mr. Rutherford Tyler’s will.

What nerve! This man seemed to believe the matter was already settled. I ran my fingers through my hair, wondering when and how to proceed. While the judge studied a document, an intense young man in a sports jacket stood and addressed the bench. Strong-featured and dark-haired, he spoke with an urgency that surprised me.

I object, your honor. Mr. Tyler’s granddaughter is his legal heir and should be contacted before the property is deeded to Tylersville. And second, Mrs. Fanny Baron, a lifelong employee of the Tyler family, still occupies a cottage on the property!

His words triggered my memory, and I glimpsed myself as a child sitting on the lap of a plump, pleasant-faced woman. She was brushing my hair. Your hair is so beautiful, Brittany. Brown and wavy like your mother’s. Promise me you’ll never color it the way some girls do.

I promise, Fanny.

She hugged me to her fragrant bosom. And promise me you’ll never forget your Fanny.

I wound my arms around her neck. I’ll never forget you. Never.

Shrugging off my memories, I turned my attention to the present. Who was this intense young man defending my former nursemaid and me so vigorously?

Flicking his pen impatiently, the silver-haired man interrupted. We’ve gone all over that. The late Mr. Tyler’s granddaughter has not occupied the main house since her mother’s death over fourteen years ago. She did not respond to any of the notices placed in the newspapers. He sniffed. She may be dead, for all we know. I winced at this. And as for Mrs. Fanny Baron, Long Cliff Nursing Home has already accepted her application.

The judge peered at him over his glasses. Mrs. Baron made the application, Forrest?

The man clicked his pen rapidly several times, his forehead rosy. Uh, I placed the application on her behalf.

I watched with rising interest as a young woman seated next to the attractive young man rose to her feet in obvious agitation. Your honor!

Yes, Miss Chestnut?

Chestnut? Could it be? It must be – my childhood friend, Elizabeth Chestnut.

Dressed stylishly in a short black and white suit, the slender young woman cast a scornful glance toward the previous speaker, then addressed the judge. Your honor, if Forrest Snedegar is allowed to purchase the Tyler property he’ll rip out the trees and plant wall-to-wall houses! Mr. Tyler would have wanted his land left in its natural state.

That may be, Miss Chestnut, the judge pronounced gravely. But the esteemed Mr. Snedegar has promised to provide a five- acre park for the use of Tylersville citizens. He coughed. And we cannot ignore the need for new housing in Tylersville with the factory opening up here next year.

Still agitated, the young woman returned to her seat. A dark, stocky man, evidently a Native American, whispered to the attractive young man, who stood once again.

Your honor, that property is adjacent to the reservation and was purchased from the tribe in the 1880’s. A housing development would impinge on their privacy, and…

The judge shook his head. I must remind you, Larry, that since Mr. Tyler left no other specific instructions…

Now is when I make my move, I thought. Taking a deep breath, I left my seat and strode to the front of the courtroom, conscious of everyone’s eyes and glad I had worn my sensible navy suit. I extended a paper toward the judge.

Oh, but he did leave other instructions, your honor!

The judge scowled. What’s this?

The original document, your honor. This is the ‘life estate’ contained in Mr. Tyler’s will.

He glanced at the document. And what is your interest in this matter?

Ignoring his question and the whispering behind me, I continued. You’ll notice in the final paragraph that the property cannot be deeded to the town if there are, at the conclusion of the 20-year period, any living descendents. Furthermore, he specifies that the cottage shall not be sold so long as Mrs. Baron is still alive.

The judge examined the document. Hmm. This appears to be an original.

It is, your honor.

The judge frowned at Mr. Snedegar. Forrest, the copy you provided the court makes no mention of descendents or of Mrs. Baron. He peered at him. How do you explain this?

The other man adjusted his tie and shrugged. I have no idea, Robert…your honor. It came from the courthouse files. He smiled, exposing his perfect, white teeth. But Mrs. Baron shouldn’t remain in the cottage. She needs the care of a nursing home.

I turned angrily to Mr. Snedegar. And what does Fanny say to this?

The judge struck the bench with his gavel. Young lady, who are you and what is your interest in this matter?

Drawing myself to my full five feet six inches, I enunciated carefully and slowly. I am Rutherford Tyler’s granddaughter, Brittany Tyler.

The slender woman in black and white reacted with a gasp. Brittany!

Furthermore, your honor, I intend to exercise my right as Mr. Tyler’s only living descendent to occupy the main house at Half Moon Lake.

The judge cleared his throat. Under these unusual circumstances, I shall need some time to study the matter. He handed back my papers. Meet me in my chambers tomorrow at eleven…and bring these. I presume you have proof of your identity.

I nodded.

Addressing everyone, he concluded, If this document is valid, then the matter of the city of Tylersville acquiring the Half Moon property appears to be closed. His gavel descended. Court dismissed!

Forrest Snedegar boomed his objections. You can’t do this, Robert! I’ve already made plans for my men to start bulldozing!

The judge eyed him severely. Then I’d say you jumped the gun this time, Forrest. Scooping up the papers before him, he pulled his robe together and left the bench.

Face flushed, Snedegar advanced toward the judge. This is preposterous, Robert! he spluttered.

Forget it, Forrest. The judge jerked his chin toward me. Take it up with her. With that, he entered his chambers and slammed the door.

As the judge disappeared from view, Elizabeth enveloped me in a warm hug. Oh, Brittany ! How wonderful to see you after all these years! How long has it been?

Almost fifteen years, Liz. Right after Mother died.

She hugged me again. Poor darling. What a terrible life you must have had.

It wasn’t so bad. I had lots of friends at the Academy. And by the time I got to college I was on my own.

Liz grabbed the young man’s arm and pulled him toward me. I want you to meet someone special. This is Larry Sweet, the best lawyer in the county – defender of the underprivileged, the Indians and the environment.

And probably the most desirable guy in town, I said to myself. With those brown eyes and that smile, he must have won the heart of every girl in Tylersville. I extended my hand. Glad to know you, Mr. Sweet.

He grinned at me. The name is Larry. And please disregard Elizabeth. She’s apt to be over-enthusiastic at times.

Don’t listen to him, Liz objected. He’s really tops. Larry took over Mr. Chandler’s practice.

I stared at him. Mr. Chandler, my grandfather’s attorney?

Yes, he said.

Then I would appreciate speaking to you about his will.

He nodded. How about today? This afternoon?

Elizabeth interrupted. Let’s have lunch together.

Larry smiled. Love to. How about it, Miss Tyler?

Please call me Brittany. And the answer is yes. I’m starved.

Laughing, we moved toward the door, only to be blocked by Forrest Snedegar. Returning the gold pen to his pocket, he put out a slim manicured hand, and flashed me a wide smile. A smile that didn’t match his cold eyes. Your father and I were great friends, he said.

From the corner of my eye I could see Elizabeth rolling her eyes and poking Larry.

He was quite a guy. Forrest took my hand in his. Too bad he got mixed up with that bunch of radicals. He frowned. He should have served like the rest of us instead of demonstrating against the war.

I tried to pull my hand away but he tightened his grip. But that’s another story. He gave me another wide smile, flashing pearly teeth. What we must do now, is get to know each other so we can settle this.

Settle what? I demanded

He let go of my hand and put his arm around my shoulders. I’m prepared to offer you a handsome sum for your property.

Carefully I removed his fingers from my arm. Thank you, Mr. Snedegar, but I have no intention of selling. And I don’t believe that Fanny wants to leave the cottage.

His smile faded. Fanny won’t live forever. He laughed. Tylersville is a poky little town. I’m sure you don’t want to live here.

I cut him off. "On the contrary, Mr. Snedegar. I plan to live here – permanently.

He stared at me, a puzzled expression on his face. You may change your mind. Drawing in his breath, he stalked off, his back rigid.

I turned to Elizabeth who was covering her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Let’s go! I said.

You’re priceless, Liz whispered, motioning to Larry who had barely managed to maintain a straight face during my dialogue with Mr. Snedegar.

I think we should have a celebration, he remarked, when Snedegar was safely out of earshot. "A victory