Nick’s stomach hurt. “I’m not engaged to anyone else, and I wasn’t fondling her, and I’m not after your money.” He pulled the velvet box from his pocket and snapped it open. “Look, I come to bring her this. And she didn’t say no.”

“Oh, now, that’s impossible,” said Wilma.

“I come because I heard Captain Granton was killed.”

“Are you certain she didn’t say no?”

“It sure didn’t look like she did, Mom,” Harry said.

“Ben Granton? What the hell does Ben Granton have to do with anything?” Jack said.

“Kid’s under the impression Lissa was engaged to him,” John said.

“You’re the one that told me it!” Nick said. “Showed me the goldarn picture!”

“Who’s Ben Granton?” Anne asked quietly.

“He’s the son of a friend of Jack’s,” supplied Wilma. “From up near Eagle River. Jack owns part of their resort, don’t you, dear?”

“Poor Ben was killed,” Mary said.

“At Malmédy,” Nick said. “I read about it in the Stars and Stripes.”

“But Elissa was never engaged to him,” Mary said.

“All right, so the kid got some bad information,” John said.

“Now, wait,” Wilma said. “I thought you said Nick was engaged to a girl back home, John.”

“I saw through him back then,” John said. “Same as I see through him now. He’s just a poor kid out to get rich off some naïve girl like Liss.”

“I’ve never been engaged to anyone,” Nick objected. “And I don’t want your money. I just came to marry Lissa.”

“My goodness,” Wilma said. “John, did you lie to us on purpose?”

“Mom,” said Jack, with a glance at his father. “Let’s leave it be. What’s done is done.”

“This boy hasn’t done anything wrong, has he?” Wilma said.

There was quiet. John looked off into the distance.

Wilma approached Nick tentatively, like a child approaching a strange dog, pausing a moment before finally coming to his side, resting her hand lightly on his arm. “You must be hungry,” she said. “Would you like some waffles?”

“Wilma!” John said.

She fixed him with a cool look. “I know you’ve always wanted Elissa to marry a hometown boy, John, so that she wouldn’t leave you. And now she’s going to. You made sure of it, didn’t you? And the worst thing is, I’m not even surprised. Making up stories like that about a boy who’s trying his best, John! Well, the least I can do is give him breakfast before he goes.”

“Wilma,” John argued, but Wilma ignored him.

With Wilma’s blue eyes prodding him, Nick allowed her to take his coat and hang it on the coat tree that stood next to the door. Though he felt a little like a sheep going to the slaughter, it didn’t seem he had any choice. And he was hungry, besides.