Morning Sky

by Judith Miller

  With a firm yank, Lilly adroitly extracted her arm. “I’m not ready to leave just yet, Jarena. I haven’t completed my order. And you and Moses haven’t even begun your shopping, have you?”

  Moses withdrew the letter from his pocket. “I’m going to post my letter and be on my way, Jarena. I hope to talk with you before I depart for Ellis. If not, I’ll send word when I return.”

  Lilly moved to his side. “I’m sure Jarena would prefer to have you deliver your message personally—especially if the news is unwelcome.”

  Jarena offered Moses her thanks, glared at her aunt, and began to gather items from the store shelves with Lilly close on her heels. The woman was an absolute enigma—one minute acting kind and compassionate, the next creating chaos in others’ lives.

  Lilly gathered up the basket of purchases and slowly sauntered toward home. She didn’t want to return to the house, where she would be greeted by noisy children and tedious housework. Even going to the general store was preferable to keeping the Nelson children in tow. But there was little choice this day. Mrs. Nelson planned to attend her temperance meeting at the church, a gathering Lilly figured was no more than a gossip session with a respectable title.

  The street churned with dust as a colorfully decorated drummer’s wagon drawn by a sleek dappled mare raced into town. The driver yanked back on the reins and brought the conveyance to a rocking halt in front of the general store. Lilly shaded her eyes to watch a well-dressed man step out of the buggy and sprint up the two steps and into the mercantile. She longed to know who the man might be—obviously a salesman passing through, but nonetheless, he might prove to be a diversion. If only she had time. She weighed the consequences but grudgingly turned and walked toward the Nelson home. For the time being, she needed her job.

  Mrs. Nelson was pacing on the front porch when Lilly returned. “I was beginning to think something had happened to you. If you hadn’t returned within another five minutes, I was planning to send Georgie to check on your whereabouts.”

  Lilly breezed past her employer, down the hallway, and into the kitchen. Mrs. Nelson was close on her heels as she placed the basket of groceries on the sturdy wood table.

  “As your employer, I’d like to know the reason you were detained, Mrs. Verdue.”

  Surprised by Mrs. Nelson’s brusque behavior, Lilly lifted her gaze from the basket. Every so often, the woman mustered a courage that caught Lilly off guard. And every time, Lilly was required to quickly regroup and change tactics. Assessing the situation, she played on Mrs. Nelson’s sympathies by explaining she’d taken time to console poor Jarena, whose intended had likely been killed in an Indian skirmish in the southwest territories. It was obvious her tale had the desired impact.

  Mrs. Nelson’s eyes grew wide, and she clasped a hand to her bodice as she offered several apologies, each more humble than the last. And then, joy of all joys, the woman asked if there wasn’t something she could do to help. Lilly nearly danced with delight. She’d gained an advantage with barely any effort or planning. Though Lilly declined the woman’s assistance, she did mention it would bolster Jarena’s spirits if she could visit the girl more frequently.

  “Yes, of course. And I’ll ask the ladies of the church to pray for the young man. What is his name?”

  “Thomas. Thomas Grayson. He’s serving with the Tenth Cavalry.”

  Mrs. Nelson rubbed her forehead. “Dear me! Isn’t that Captain Boyle’s group of men?”

  Lilly quickly explained about Captain Boyle’s reassignment as she continued to unpack the basket. “I don’t think Captain Boyle should find himself in too much danger at his new military post.”

  “We’ll pray for him anyway. He’s hard at work trying to save the souls of those soldiers. He’s got his work cut out for him. From what I hear, those men are more interested in alcohol and immoral women than the Word of God.”

  “Hard to imagine, isn’t it?” Lilly asked with a wry grin.

  Mrs. Nelson picked up her reticule. “Indeed. You would think that when a man is in the midst of flying bullets and arrows, he’d be anxious to hear about the afterlife. You know, seeking God and eternal salvation rather than a bottle of whiskey and . . . and . . .”

  “A woman’s embrace?”

  Mrs. Nelson’s cheeks flushed. “Yes. Now, I had best be on my way or I’m going to be late. Do make sure Georgie doesn’t escape out the upstairs window again.”

  Lilly nodded and finished her kitchen chores before going upstairs. It had been quiet far too long, and though Alma would still be napping, the boys were likely engaged in their usual mischief. If only Joey didn’t have his older brother to lead him astray, he’d be easily managed. However, Georgie was a problem that needed solving.

  The carpeted hallway muffled her footsteps as she peeked inside the boys’ bedroom. They were nowhere to been seen, and the window was closed tight. Yet she could hear their hushed voices, and it sounded as though they were coming from her bedroom. Lilly marched down the hallway, her anger mounting with each footstep. She pushed open her bedroom door, and the boys jumped up from their crouched position and watched her with wide-eyed attention.

  Moving across the floor with the speed of a warrior after his prey, Lilly grasped Georgie by one ear. “What are you doing going through my belongings?”

  The boy turned pale and attempted to wrest his ear from her pinching fingers. “We were going to clean your room for you.”

  “And you need to get inside my closet and go through my drawers to clean? Is that right?”

  “N-n-no, but—” “Quit your fibbing, Georgie. What is it you thought you’d find in here?”

  The boy shrugged and then flinched when the movement caused Lilly’s hold to tighten on his ear. Joey rushed forward and tugged on Lilly’s skirt, obviously hoping to come to his brother’s aid.

  “We was stealing this.” The child dug into his pants pocket and pulled out one of Lilly’s handkerchiefs. He turned back the lace edging that surrounded the linen cloth and revealed a rabbit’s foot and a glass ball.

  “Is that an eye in there?” Joey asked. “Georgie said it was.”

  Lilly took the handkerchief and its contents from the younger boy.

  She released Georgie from her grasp. “Sit down. Both of you.”

  They both dropped obediently to the floor. One end of the rabbit’s foot was crusted with dried blood, and Lilly held it in front of the boys. “Some folks think a rabbit’s foot brings them luck, but it doesn’t.”

  Joey tilted his head to the side, and his eyes widened with surprise. “It doesn’t?”

  “Wasn’t lucky for the rabbit, was it?”

  The boys shook their heads. “No. But folks say having one is good luck for people,” Georgie pointed out.

  “If it wasn’t good luck for the rabbit, it won’t be good luck for you, either. Besides, I found you in my room. Did the rabbit’s foot bring you good luck?”

  Georgie shook his head. “No, but how come you got it?”

  “Someone gave it to me as a gift, believing that it brought good luck.”

  “What’s that?” Joey placed a plump finger on the glass ball.

  “An evil eye.” Lilly made her voice low and ominous. “I had hoped I wouldn’t be forced to use it when I came here to live. I thought I would be living in a house with well-behaved children.”

  Joey inched away from her. “You are.”

  “Oh, I don’t think that’s true, Joey. I believe you could be a good little boy. Instead, you allow Georgie to lead you into trouble, don’t you?”

  Georgie elbowed his brother, but Joey ignored the jab. “Uh-huh. But I won’t do it no more. I promise.”

  “Good. Then you go to your room and stay there until I come and fetch you.”

  Joey ran from the room as though his knee pants were on fire, and

  Lilly turned her attention back to his brother. “You remember when I told you to behave or I’d place a hex on you?”

  Georgie slumped and s
tared at the floor. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Then why do you keep on with your mischievous ways?”

  The boy peeked up at her. “I wanted to see if Mama was right about you.”

  Lilly’s mind reeled. “Right about what?”

  “I heard her tell Papa she thought you were hiding something. I was trying to find it.”

  Lilly gave a nod, remembering the day she’d found Mrs. Nelson snooping through her belongings. Though Mrs. Nelson had pretended to be delivering linens, Lilly suspected the woman had been spying.

  She squatted down and took hold of Georgie’s trembling hands. “If you tell me the truth, you don’t need to fear me, Georgie. What else did you hear?”

  “Papa asked her why she didn’t trust you.”

  “And?” Lilly urged, dropping the boy’s hands.

  “She said she saw things in your room she didn’t like, but when Mama saw me listening, she stopped talking.” He touched the rabbit’s foot. “I figure she saw these things.”

  “Did you ever hear them discuss anything else about me?”

  He wagged his head from side to side. “Can I go now?”

  “No. We must reach an agreement, Georgie.” Lilly removed the glass ball from the handkerchief and held it between her fingers with the eye pointed directly at him. “Do you see the evil eye staring at you?”

  Fear shone in the boy’s deep blue eyes. “Evil eye?”

  “Yes. I use it to put a curse on those who don’t do what they promise. Shall I say the words that will place you under the spell of the evil eye, Georgie?”

  “Noooo! I’ll be good. I promise.”

  “But that’s not all. You must promise to tell me anything your mama or papa says about me. Anything. Do you promise?” Lilly slowly twisted her fingers as she moved the stone closer to the boy. The eye appeared to come to life, following Georgie’s darting glance.

  “I promise, I promise. I’ll tell you everything I hear. Can I go now?”

  She nodded. “Now go to your room. When Alma awakens, we’ll go outdoors and you and Joey can play.” The boy jumped to his feet. But before he could bolt out of reach, Lilly stood and took hold of his arm, shoving the glass ball at him one final time. “Don’t forget, Georgie.”

  As the boys’ bedroom door slammed shut, Lilly dropped to her bed with a laugh. She hoped her performance had been successful. Throughout the years, she had effectively persuaded countless individuals she could conjure spells. Lilly knew her true skill was not voodoo or witchcraft, however, but the power of persuasion.

  Only the future would reveal if she had succeeded, but there was precious little time to dwell on the matter since Alma was now up from her nap and peeking out from her bedroom doorway. After safely tucking away the handkerchief and its contents, Lilly gave the room a fleeting glance. She truly needed a lock for her door.

  She motioned to Alma and tapped on the boys’ bedroom door as she walked by. “Come along, Georgie and Joey. Alma’s awake. Let’s go outdoors—and no trouble.”

  The boys needed no further encouragement. They bounded down the stairs and out the front door before Lilly and Alma had cleared the upper hallway.

  While Lilly prepared a plate of cookies and a pitcher of lemonade, Alma returned upstairs to pick out a favorite book. She held up a book of Grimms’ fairy tales for Lilly’s approval as the two of them walked to the porch.

  “Excellent choice.”

  Alma beamed at the praise and snuggled close, carefully pointing at the pictures and turning the pages on cue. Lilly had nearly completed the first story when the sound of an approaching wagon captured her attention. She hastily read the final lines and then snapped the volume together, certain the horse and wagon belonged to the man she’d seen entering the Johnsons’ general store earlier in the day. Lilly stepped off the porch and sauntered down the sidewalk as the buggy slowed.

  The man tipped his hat and pulled back on the reins. “Lovely day.”

  She appraised the man for a brief moment. “New in town, aren’t you?”

  “Making my way to some of the smaller towns with my sample books. I’m hoping to discover whether I can turn a profit passing through once or twice a month.”

  Lilly wiped the beads of sweat from her lemonade glass as she further evaluated the man’s appearance. His clothing spoke of money, but Lilly knew any salesman worth his salt dressed to exude prosperity.

  “And are you meeting with success?”

  The man removed his hat and pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket. “Not much.” He swiped his forehead and nodded toward Lilly’s glass. “I don’t want to appear bold, but I could sure use a cool drink. That lemonade looks mighty inviting.”

  “Then you had best come and have a glass. You can tie your horse to that post. Mr. Nelson won’t be home anytime soon.”

  “Charlie Holmes,” the man said as he approached. “Nice to see a smiling face. Can’t say as folks around these parts have been too welcoming. Seems as though they’d rather wait till the train is due to arrive in Ellis and then take their wagons down there and collect their goods.”

  Lilly introduced herself and took the man’s linen fedora. The inner band was greasy and discolored. Mr. Holmes clearly used an abundance of macassar oil to slick his wavy hair into place. But she wouldn’t fault him. At least he cared about his appearance—unlike most of the men in these parts.

  Mr. Holmes leaned against one of the ornate wooden columns flanking the porch stairs while Lilly went into the house to get a glass and then poured some lemonade for her new acquaintance. “Do sit down, Mr. Holmes.”

  Alma scooted off one of the cushioned wicker chairs and tugged at Lilly’s sleeve. “May I go out back and play with my brothers, Miss Lilly?”

  “Of course, Alma. But remember, you know right from wrong. If your brothers are doing something improper, you must come tell me.”

  The child’s curls bobbed up and down, circling her head like a bouncing blond halo. “I will, Miss Lilly.” Alma waved a chubby hand as she descended the porch steps and skipped off.

  Lilly handed her guest the lemonade and permitted her fingers to rest on his a moment longer than necessary. “If only her brothers were so easily managed.”

  Mr. Holmes nodded before taking a deep swallow of his beverage.

  “Boys can be more difficult—more energy.”

  Choosing a nearby chair, Lilly sat down and carefully arranged the folds of her skirt. “You have youngsters of your own, Mr. Holmes?”

  “Goodness, no. I’ve never married—too much traveling. I’ve been around my sister’s boys, though—and of course I remember my younger years.” His eyes glimmered with amusement.

  “I’m sorry you haven’t met with greater success during your recent travels. I suppose the life of a salesman can be most trying.”

  He blotted his upper lip with his kerchief. “No more vexing than that of a housekeeper and nursemaid. While I can take a brief respite from the drudgery of my daily travels, there is no escape for you.” His look conveyed genuine sympathy.

  Lilly fluttered her lashes and refilled his glass. “Thank you, Mr.

  Holmes.”

  He lightly touched her hand. “Please. Call me Charlie. I feel as though we’ve already begun to develop a kinship. I only wish there were some reason for me to return this way more often. Unfortunately, Mr. Johnson placed only a small order with me, though he suggested I stop in Nicodemus.”

  “Did he?”

  The children’s laughter floated from the backyard as Mr. Holmes scooted forward on his seat. “Perhaps you know some of the folks over there? I could explain that we’re acquainted and it might help my sales.”

  Lilly stifled a laugh. “I’m afraid not, Charlie. Though my brother-in-law farms outside of Nicodemus, I came to Hill City shortly after my arrival in Kansas.”

  After draining the contents, Charlie handed her the empty glass. “I thank you for your hospitality, but daylight’s wasting and I need to be on my way. With y
our kind permission, I would like to stop next time I pass through town.”

  Mrs. Nelson would frown upon such visits, but Lilly enjoyed the man’s company. “Mrs. Nelson is away from home on Tuesdays. Otherwise . . .”

  “I’ll be certain I’m in Hill City every other Tuesday.” He picked up his hat and offered Lilly his arm as she walked him to the front gate.

  She patted his arm. “And in the meantime, I’ll be thinking of some way to help you become more prosperous, Charlie.”

  CHAPTER

  13

  New York City • July 1880

  Truth followed the servant girl into the mahogany-paneled office and emulated a faint bow as the owners of the Rutledge Academy introduced themselves. They were a formidable group, and Truth once again wondered why she had agreed to make this journey.

  Mrs. Rutledge twisted her lips into a knot as she examined the letter of introduction Truth had handed over upon being presented to the woman. “This says you’ve come to fetch Miss Boyle home.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The younger of the two gentlemen stepped to the side of the desk and picked up the letter. “How are we to know this isn’t a forgery or that you didn’t take this letter from someone else?”

  Truth cocked her head to one side. Were these people jesting with her? Why would anyone else want to come and take Macia home? “Macia can identify me, and if you fear the letter is a forgery, I believe you have other papers with Dr. Boyle’s signature. I suggest you compare them.”

  Mr. Rutledge glanced at Marvin Laird. “She’s a smart one, isn’t she?”

  Mr. Laird ignored the question. “How is it that Dr. Boyle happened to send you, Miss Harban? We wrote and told him that Macia was ill and that he need only send money for her treatment. Didn’t he receive my missive?”

  “Yes, he did. However, as he states in his letter, he will be more at ease caring for Macia himself. Had it not been for Mrs. Boyle’s ill health, he would have come himself. I was hoping to begin our return journey tomorrow or by week’s end, at the latest.”