Obsessed in Oregon (Yours Truly: The Lovelorn Book 8) Read online

  Obsessed in Oregon

  By

  Marlene Bierworth

  Yours Truly: The Lovelorn Series Book 8

  Copyright page

  Obsessed in Oregon ©2020 Marlene Bierworth

  Cover Design done by V. McKevitt

  No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without written permission of the author, Marlene Bierworth, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, character and events are the product of the author’s imagination. While the author has tried to be historically correct, her goals in this book are great characters and storytelling. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locals, is purely coincidental.

  All books titled or quoted in this story belong to their respective authors.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  About This Series

  Miss Annette Baldwin, wants to play matchmaker, so she starts a column in her father’s newspaper in St. Louis, Missouri, in order to share her expertise on love. She writes under the pseudonym, The Lovelorn, not daring to give away her identity. Suddenly, her column is spreading wider and now everyone wants her help in finding their love match.

  YOURS TRULY: THE LOVELORN is a multi-author sweet historical romance series take on the modern-day Dear Abby newspaper articles. Each book will have a character writing to The Lovelorn about their problem, and receive advice from the Lovelorn. Each book stands alone and will have the authors’ masterful creative touch.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  About this Series

  Table of Contents

  Chapters 1 through 12

  Epilogue

  Other Books in this Series

  Other Books by Marlene Bierworth

  Author’s Bio

  What’s Coming Next in the series

  Chapter 1

  Oregon City, Oregon

  Summer, 1880

  Oregon City was the first settlement in the Willamette Valley and the first incorporated city west of the Rocky Mountains. The area is steeped with beauty and rich history and was the final destination for many early settlers at the end of the Oregon Trail. Fur traders and missionaries arrived first, infiltrating the Native presence and civilizing the new territory.

  Reverend Timothy Gracin brought his bride West in 1860 to start a family and preach the Good News to Oregon City’s growing population. That was where Tariana found herself, one of the fourteen-hundred people who called that spectacular piece of paradise home. Caught somewhere between a woman and a child, she well-related to the apostle Paul’s dilemma, groaning over knowing what he ought to do but failing to do it. Her parents had taught her right from wrong, so she could not claim ignorance as an excuse for her bursts of unruly behavior, yet, the torment in her soul raged on, especially in the romance department. Perched on the brink of womanhood, she wondered how such a great number of residents provided so few options when it came to desirable men from which to choose – except for Michael.

  Tariana watched as he and Frances – the old-fashioned name should have clued him in to the fact that she was all wrong for him – strolled hand in hand. She was a saint in a dress, someone who’d never climbed a tree or fished in the river. Miss Prissy Proper should be entertaining the banker’s son and leaving the brave shipbuilders for a more suitable match, like herself. She would make every day of Michael’s life an adventure and never force him to stand so erect and attentive to every twist of fancy conjured by the brain of a girl. Yes, the coupling was all wrong, and the sooner they discovered it, the sooner the field would open for her to lay claim to the love of her life.

  Thick foliage blocked Tariana’s view, and she stretched her frame to push it aside. The abundance of undergarments kept her locked securely inside the large arm of the tree, but at the precise moment the duo passed directly beneath her, it shifted, and she knew disaster was eminent. Tariana braced for landfall, but instead, her worst nightmare happened in torturous slow motion. She struggled to flatten her Sunday dress, which seemed to have a mind of its own, billowing through the air like an open parasol and dropping her into the deepest depths of humiliation.

  The two lovers stared, watching the descent.

  Layers of material cushioned Tariana’s bottom as she landed with a thump on the soft grass in the garden, sprawled at Michael’s feet. It was the first time she recalled feeling grateful for the cumbersome attire. Though she appeared physically uninjured, she was consumed with shame.

  Frances gasped in horror, and Michael bit his lower lip to hide his amusement. Tariana bolted to her feet in one swift motion to peer into the sea-blue eyes of her beloved – if only in her mind.

  “Tariana, are you all right?” Michael asked as he reached out to steady her.

  She accepted his fussing over her with the thirst of a newborn kitten, knowing that his concern would be the only pleasant memory resulting from the unfortunate encounter. Father would surely send her to her room, and for God knew how long, hoping to tame his crazed daughter.

  All she could do was stare. Before she knew it, the opportunity to speak freely had elapsed, and Frances pushed her from Michael’s grasp.

  “You were spying, you wicked girl!” Frances yelled. “You will not get away with your treachery today, little sister.”

  Michael intervened. “Don’t be so hard on the girl.” He turned toward Tariana. “I understand your birthday is fast approaching. I believe I know the perfect lad to fit your adventurous spirit.”

  “She still has close to a year, thank goodness. Do not empathize with her, Michael. She is despicable and has not taken one instruction of etiquette seriously.”

  “There is a man designed for every girl, Frances. Do not crush your sister’s dream.” Michael did not take his eyes off Tariana while he spoke, to the point of her blushing a crimson red for all to see.

  “Now look what your nonsense has done,” Frances said. “The girl is a silly child, and I hope Father keeps her home until she’s twenty. It will take her that long to grow up.”

  “That would suit me fine!” Tariana said, picking up her skirts. Armed with the last of her dignity, she headed toward the house – might as well get the punishment over with.

  Two whole weeks of exile! The punishment excluded Church, and her father permitted meals with the family, as long as she daren’t expect her siblings to serve a lawbreaker. Bible reading, repentance, studying etiquette, and concentrating on developing a noble character were the objectives of her solitude.

  Tariana tried to obey the regime, but the boredom drove her stir-crazy, and the carpet on her bedroom floor already showed signs of wear from her constant pacing.

  A sudden thought came to her: The St. Louis Gazette, which had made daily news a national success, was famous for another reason – “The Lovelorn” column. The author remained anonymous and deliciously secretive. No one knew for certain if it were a man or a woman. This anonymity appealed to Tariana’s sense of adventure, for she, too, hid under the false pretense of unrequited love. Sec
rets had not aided in solving her problems, whereas the mysterious “Lovelorn” had gained a reputation across the country for giving helpful advice to lonely hearts. Perhaps she should write a letter concerning her obsession with Michael. The local newspaper supported the syndicated column, and it grew in popularity with the residents of Oregon City on a weekly basis. She was also in need of new ammunition if she were ever to win her sister’s beau for herself.

  Tariana went to her desk. Father would accept this endeavor as a practical lesson in correct letter writing and not hesitate to put it in the mail. She blew off the dust from her decorative stationery, a gift from a well-meaning parishioner, while thoughts swirled in her head. Truth was a necessary element if she expected an answer, but she’d need to speckle the words with a bit of humility to gain empathy from the “Lovelorn.” Hopefully, after a week in her room, she’d achieved a smidgen of remorse, though, in her heart, she knew the longing had grown stronger due to Michael’s absence. Pursuing the man came at a high cost to her conscience. Michael and Frances were making a horrible mistake, and she felt it her duty to bring awareness to their madness. He was outgoing and incredibly handsome, the perfect match for Tariana and not Frances.

  She sighed at the turmoil raging within and resigned to penning her words.

  Dear Lovelorn,

  I am obsessed with my sister’s beau. How desperate can a girl get? Neither suspect I carry this secret, but it causes me to do horrid things. When I let the green monster loose to do its devilish deeds, I don’t even recognize myself, and I run for cover to hide my sins. I will turn eighteen-years-old in nine short months, able to court whomever I choose, but I want none of the boys who flock about me like roosters, ready to crow victory over my wretched heart. I want Michael. How does one settle for anything less than love? I feel like a defeated fraud, tricked by the master con-artist.

  Obsessed in Oregon.

  A knock sounded at the door as she sealed the envelope. Tariana hurried to answer the summons, relief flooding her as she never received company while imprisoned in her room, and she ached to see another face other than the guilty one that stared back at her whenever she looked in the mirror. That face lacked enthusiasm and wallowed in her present-day plight. It had the same blue eyes, but they had greyed, maintaining none of the twinkle that had brought her face to life. It also had the same high cheekbones, which were now white from a lack of reveling in the sunshine.

  Tariana turned the knob, flung the door open wide, and her countenance immediately sagged when she was greeted by her little sister, Evelyn. She was definitely not Tariana’s favorite among her siblings, for the child was far too particular and never deviated from the letter of the law. At least she provided no grief for her parents, which was more than Tariana could claim. The youngest daughter, who’d broken the one-year time-span between the Gracin children’s ages, had arrived as an unexpected surprise to the family. The pregnancy had been the last hope that God might send them a son, but they got Miss Perfect instead. Tariana had seen her dark side on more than one occasion; no one was truly perfect.

  “What do you want?” Tariana asked.

  The twelve-year-old grinned a sweet, stab-you-in-the-back kind of smile, and Tariana went on high alert. Evelyn handed her a bouquet. “This came for you, and mother said I should bring it up.”

  Tariana gasped. “For me?” She grabbed the planter holding the small shrub and reached for the card that was stuck amid the drooping flowers. “They are so pretty, and they smell divine.” She opened the note and placed a hand on her heart to stop it from racing. Could she be seeing right? Flowers from Michael? She read each word slowly to let it all sink in:

  Tariana

  Thought you might need something to brighten your day. The florist says you can plant the Angel’s Trumpet in your garden. Of course, it is not a climbing tree, so be careful. I trust you are surviving your punishment in good form.

  Look forward to seeing you out and about soon.

  Michael

  The message had not included Frances’s name, and Tariana’s thoughts turned suddenly wicked. All attempts to regain an honorable state of mind failed, and she feared that she’d never overcome this obsession, no matter how many times Father locked her inside the room. Mostly, Tariana feared the worst of her would emerge on her sister’s wedding day, and there’d be no turning back from the dark side after that.

  Evelyn remained standing at the door, so Tariana put her to good use. “I have a letter for you to mail. It is a writing exercise, and Father will permit it.” She put down the planter, hurried to the desk to retrieve the sealed envelope, and placed it in Evelyn’s hand. When she continued to stand there, Tariana asked, “Is there anything else?”

  “I know a secret,” she said in a hushed tone as if the walls had ears.

  “You?”

  “Yes. Quite by accident. I overheard Frances and Michael talking about the little mishap that got you into trouble. She mentioned seeing the shrub in the shop window in town and how you resembled the droopy flower as you drifted to the earth.” Evelyn walked closer and fingered the petals. “Its form resembles a trumpet with the large white opening at the end, its insides open for the world to see.”

  Tariana shrunk in horror.

  “Frances giggled and told Michael to purchase them for you – to take the starch out of your attitude. Maybe you’d eat the poison flower and get the comeuppance you deserve.”

  “She did not!” Tariana shrieked.

  At times, Frances came across as meek, but she definitely was not mild when it came to dealing with Tariana’s shenanigans. They shared little sisterly love, which caused Father all the more concern for the eternal welfare of his two eldest girls.

  “Heard it with my own ears.” Evelyn picked idly at her fingernail and hummed.

  “Maybe Frances, but surely not Michael. He would never agree to trickery like this.”

  “The amusement on his face begged to differ. That and the fact that he’d sent the flowers. I wonder what he’d think if he knew you’d swooned while reading his words.” She arched her brow and chortled. “Your secret is out, sister dear. How ever will you face the world?”

  Tariana pushed Evelyn out the door. “Get out. You are the worst deceiver of us all. Your flawless exterior disguises your treachery, but now, it is you who should worry. Your secret is out!” She slammed the door against the girl’s toes. The eldest and the youngest were the biggest challenges in her family. She loved Cherise and Samantha, but they were the busiest, with their studies and clubs, never finding the time to visit her prison tower. Leastways, since her father had locked her away.

  “One more week,” she grumbled aloud. Suddenly the beautiful flowers no longer provided the comfort they had only a few minutes prior. Perhaps she should eat one, and Frances would have her sister’s death on her conscience, but she didn’t want to die. She had to find out if Michael had truly sent the plant intending malice.

  Chapter 2

  Jamie Sackerton watched Tariana from the hedge separating their properties. The sun shone bright, warming her pale skin as she breathed the air of freedom deep into her lungs. Her confinement ended that day, and with gratitude she drank in her surroundings. Reverend Gracin had falsely assumed that two weeks would be enough to cure the defiant streak that had pierced her soul, but Jamie knew otherwise; they’d never take that from her. Jamie put a more complimentary label on her peculiar fixation, calling it a compelling devotion to her convictions, which made it sound positive and exemplary. If she could learn selective in her obsessions, she would be a strong force within her circle of influence one day.

  Jamie would have her no other way. The girls in town fussed, expecting the fellas to perform cartwheels to win their approval. Tariana, on the other hand, had always been his friend. Jamie was the blacksmith’s only son, and he worked at the docks as a laborer, but he had dreams and was determined to unleash his passion someday. His family generally kept to themselves, avoiding stirring the ev
er-churning grapevine pool by mistake.

  Tariana searched souls and understood Jamie. In fact, she’d helped to mold his character with her natural child-like faith. She had the ability to tip-toe across boundaries while still maintaining a tight relationship with the Almighty. A more spirited woman he’d never met.

  She began the trek down the cobblestone walkway, displaying the posture of a proper lady, but he caught the glint of the sun reflecting off her face and knew she itched for relief from the expected protocol. The gate opened and closed behind her. After a quick glance at the house, she turned and headed toward the edge of town.

  Jamie knew her destination. He raced to a shed in the back yard of his property and grabbed the fishing rods, hers included. Pastor Gracin would be appalled at the thought of his daughter touching worms and gutting fish. He wrongly surmised that Jamie performed the unladylike activities for her, but in reality, she’d never hear of it. They’d been buddies since birth, and Jamie swore he knew Tariana better than she knew herself, although he’d never admit it out loud. She’d just as soon use him as live bait if she suspected – even for one minute – that he believed a fella had the ability to read a girl’s mind.

  Still, something lurked behind the mask she showed to the world, something she tried to hide from him. At times, the wildness drove her like a lioness set to pounce, and he suspected all the punishment of late was a result of an inner romantic conflict concerning Michael. Maybe this time, she’d share the root of her obsession rather than complain or plot her next attack.

  When he finally caught up to her, she was lying prostrate on the ground, cushioned by the floor of wild flowers and tall grasses. Tariana had named the area Song Sparrow Meadow in honor of the bird species that regularly perched in the tree branches sheltering the secluded spot, filling the air with song.