Built in the years when Dexter's grain elevators still ran on steam, the Winsel House was raised by the town's own banker, and has worn a few different lives since — a retirement home, a funeral home, and eventually a single-family house again. It was recently returned to her former glory with the love of two local Dexter boys, Kevin and James Wahlert. Dark walnut furniture, brass fixtures, and hand-finished plaster set the tone: this is a house that was cared for, not staged.
It sleeps up to six across three bedrooms, plus a full office for anyone who brought work along, and a deck built for the kind of evening where nobody's in a hurry to go back inside. Hardwood floors throughout, all new appliances, and blazing-fast Starlink Wi-Fi round things out.
Set inside the house's namesake turret, this bedroom curves where the others go square, with a working fireplace for the nights that ask for one. Queen bed, tall windows all the way around, and a quiet that feels a little different from the rest of the house.
The largest of the two bedrooms, with a queen bed, a run of morning windows, and a leopard-print throw that's become something of a house signature. The round brass mirror over the dresser catches the last of the evening light.
Tucked under the slope of the roofline, this room looks over the backyard flower beds. A softer palette of sage and cream, a queen bed, and a vaulted ceiling that makes the small footprint feel taller than it is.
A working desk, a leather chesterfield, and a door that closes. If you're extending a work trip into a weekend, or just want somewhere quiet to read after the house has gone to sleep, this is it.
Stocked with cookware, a French press, and everything short of groceries.
Room for three cars, no permits or street-sweeping schedules to track.
Two rocking chairs, string lights, and a view of Polk Street's old oaks.
The original radiators still knock in winter, but the house stays even.
A closed-door workspace with a desk lamp and reliable, fast Wi-Fi.
Washer and dryer tucked upstairs — useful for anyone staying more than a weekend.
Small town, big bandwidth — stream, work, or video call without a hiccup.
Original floors throughout, refinished during the restoration.
Kitchen and laundry, all brand new — nothing to fuss with.
Around town there are old rumors that the house never quite emptied out — that something from its many lives stayed behind. We can't say for sure, but we've noticed a few things: a lightbulb or two has gone out with more drama than a lightbulb should, a drawer has turned up open that nobody remembers opening, and there are creaks on the stairs at night that don't seem to match anyone's footsteps.
Is it just an old house settling, or is it something else? We'll let you be the judge.
Polk Street sits an easy walk from Dexter's tiny downtown, where the hardware store still opens on Saturdays and the Rusty Duck — small-town famous, and then some — is the place to get dinner. It's a town built around the railroad, thirty-some minutes from West Des Moines if you want a city evening, and a two-minute walk from a gravel road if you don't.
Two-night minimum. Check-in after 4pm, checkout by 11am. Reach out below and we'll hold your dates.