A Lily Blooms (Cutter's Creek Book 4)

by Kari Trumbo

  “Mother, I don’t know that he’s really mine.”

  “He is now…Unless you’re planning on taking him to the orphanage.” Her voice rose with every word, and the baby jumped in his arms.

  He patted his son’s back gently and spoke softly. “No, Mother. I couldn’t just hand him off again, though I had just felt free of Gwendolyn.”

  “Let’s not speak ill of the dead. What’s done is done, and frankly, I’m happy this little one will grow up with us. Aren’t you?”

  Words raced up his throat and snarled there, unable to burst forth. He touched a tiny cheek and the little one sighed.

  “David. We’ll call him David James Cahill.”

  “Powerful name. I’ll have the county clerk stop by to have him registered.” She squeezed his shoulder. “You should get yourself off to work. I’ll take care of the little mite. I may be out of practice, but I think I can remember.”

  James smiled and handed his little bundle to his mother. He placed his hand on the child’s head, marveling again at the soft corn silk. “I’ll be back after work, little David.” He moved his hand and kissed the top of David’s head.

  ~~~

  Lillian sat at the coffee shop and ate a pastry. Penny approached with the steaming pot and put a cup in front of her.

  “Usual?” Penny’s hand held over the cup.

  “You know me too well.” She turned the handle of the cup toward her and held it still while the hot water poured. Penny dug the tea strainer out of her apron and handed it to her.

  “I put your leaves inside already.” She leaned on the counter and looked around the room.

  “So, did you hear about the Cahills?” Penny’s eyebrows rose as her voice lowered.

  “No…I don’t listen to gossip.”

  “This isn’t gossip. It’s a fact. Mr. Cahill has a baby. My brother delivered him this morning.”

  “What?” Not James…please, not James!

  “It came by post, of all things. No one has talked of anything else since! I guess Mr. Cahill ran down to the mercantile to get what the baby needed, and he was almost unable to speak he was so vexed. His father went out and got a goat for feeding the child.”

  Lillian choked on her pastry. “You mean…the child belongs to James?”

  “Well, of course. Who else?”

  “Oh, the poor man. He must be hiding away in his house for all the talk.” She shook her head, knowing that was the response Penny would expect, but wishing she could run home and hide.

  “No…he and his family never seem to care what others talk about. It’s one of the reasons the town likes them so much, I suspect.”

  Lillian tipped her head in thought. If only her own parents put no stock in the words of others. Her life would be much easier.

  Lillian searched her tea for the right words. “Mr. Cahill came to visit me a few evenings ago…He said I was worth waiting for. I suppose now he won’t bother. If my parents have heard, they will work even harder to keep him away.”

  “You’ve compared every single man who has ever tried to court you to James Cahill. It is no wonder that when he himself finally pays you attention, you would lap it up like a horse in a desert. Remember that you were young when you decided he was the man for you. You still are.”

  “We are only six months apart, Penny Hanover, and you’re planning your wedding,” Lillian snapped. “No one knows my heart better than me.”

  “That may be, but take caution not to throw your life away for someone you barely know.” Penny turned and sashayed to another customer.

  Lillian sipped her tea, but her disappointment kept her from tasting it. She finished her breakfast and ambled over the little red chapel, stopping for a moment to admire it. Its red color and white shutters were reminiscent of a barn, and about the same size, but it was special. It always had been. You couldn’t walk inside without feeling your spirits lift a little. Perhaps it was the cheery little stove, or the color of the building, its plain windows that let in rays of sunlight, or the organ in front that led the worship. It could have been all of those things, or perhaps the Spirit was there in this little piece of heaven that kept people coming back to the little red chapel in the foothills of the Bighorn Mountains of Montana.

  She pulled the door open and sat in the back pew, letting her head rest against the one in front of her. Lord, I don’t know where to go from here. My parents won’t let me court anyone and I don’t feel called to do anything. Does my life have a purpose? Have You forgotten about me? She squeezed her eyes tight but a tear escaped, traveling down the curve of her cheek and dropping to the floor.

  A gentle hand touched her head. She sat up and wiped her eyes.

  “Reverend Bligh, I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I gave you the job with me to give you a little freedom from your home, my dear. It isn’t enough anymore, is it? You are starting to question things you don’t understand. I’m sorry to say, but you may never understand them. Reverend Latsch told me a bit about your history before he left for Billings. Your parents may never change. I would normally never advise being disobedient to them, but there are underlying problems. Listen to the Lord; He will guide you.”

  “What if He won’t? What if He doesn’t care about me…What if He’s like my father…silent and hovering?”

  “He isn’t. His whole reason for creating us was for relationship. He wants more for you, but only He knows how you’re going to get there. Trust Him a little longer and give him a chance?”

  She took her handkerchief from her reticule and wiped her eyes gently. “I will wait.” She crossed her wrists over her knees. “I don’t have much choice.”

  “You won’t regret waiting. Your mind is troubled with this. Let’s not give it more to worry about with work.” He stood and left out the back. It struck her just then that he never paused at the threshold. Perhaps that was yet another rule to bind her in place. She sighed, feeling like she could get away with such unladylike gestures with no one but God looking. He’d know she wanted to do it anyway.

  Chapter Ten

  Lillian removed herself to the solitude of the porch, as she had become accustomed to doing. She refused to acknowledge that she watched for Mr. Cahill every night and that he hadn’t stopped by in a week. Of course, he also had someone more important to look after now.

  She pulled the lamp she’d brought outside with her a little closer and squinted at the small words on the page of her Bible. She heard a squeak coming up the street but refused to look up. It was most likely one of her mother’s friends come to rub it in about a grandchild or to point out that she didn’t have a son to pass on their name. Her friends seemed to take great joy from Mama’s distress, and the more agitated and rude Mama became, the more they would push her.

  “Good evening, Miss Donaldson.”

  She jumped, closing the Bible with a slap in her lap.

  “Mr. Cahill…I…” Her throat caught on the words as she realized it had been him pushing the buggy. “Oh…” Her mouth stuck in the shape of the word.

  “It would appear my wife finally blessed me with something…before she met her maker in the depths.” His face lay in the shadow of his bowler hat.

  “What…you mean…I’m so sorry.”

  “You have no reason to feel sorry. If anyone should be, it’s me.”

  Her curiosity was piqued. “What do you mean? You owe me nothing.”

  “I have to know. How did you know about Gwendolyn? How? Why didn’t you tell me before that day, when I could have done something about it?” He looked off down the street. When the baby fussed at the lack of movement, he swayed front to back to keep the buggy moving. “I just don’t understand. I thought I knew her so well.”

  “I, I didn’t. I mean…I can’t answer that.”

  “Why not? It’s an easy question. What did you know, and why didn’t you tell me?”

  The door creaked behind her. “Mr. Cahill, is that the young’un I’ve been hearing about?”
>
  Lillian held her breath. Seeing infants always sent Mama into a snit. Mama shuffled down the front steps faster than Lillian had seen her in years.

  “Might I hold the little boy?” She clasped her hands together in front of her, as if she were pleading with him.

  James looked uncomfortable, but to his credit he covered the look in a moment, and Mama didn’t seem to notice.

  “Well, he’s quite bundled up in there. I’ll bring him by some other time.”

  Mama seemed to shrink, and her face dropped back to her normal sullen countenance.

  “Bring him back on a warmer night or when you want to come inside.” She turned and shuffled back up the stairs.

  Lillian sat in shock. She’d never heard her mother invite someone in the house, and she’d never seen her leave without angry words and sometimes tears.

  “How did you do that? You told her no, and yet she didn’t—. Well, that isn’t how she normally acts.” Lillian leaned away from the light, glad for the shadows of night to hide her blush.

  “It’s no matter. I’m just sorry it took my son to finally gain an invitation into your home. I don’t take that lightly, and will gladly return to see you soon.”

  “Mr. Cahill.” She pulled in as much breath as she could and held up her chin in strength she didn’t truly feel. “I am sorry about your wife. There can be no restitution now.”

  Mr. Cahill turned the buggy around. “There wouldn’t have been. I had begged her to try to make it work. She wouldn’t even talk to me. I didn’t even know she was with child before we separated. No, we were finished.” He tipped his hat over his shoulder and disappeared into the darkness.

  Lillian held her hand over her heart, trying to calm it, knowing it would do little good.

  ~~~

  Lillian came down the next morning to find a vase of cut flowers on the table. She stopped short. Her mother had been opposed to them for so long that their strange presence made the room fairly glow.

  “Mama?” She finished her flight down and looked around.

  Mama popped in from the pantry, her hair in a style Lillian had never seen her wear, a fresh apron, and even a dress Lillian did not recognize.

  “Good morning, Lillian. Staying for breakfast?” She smiled.

  Lillian took a step back and waited. Waited for her mother to change back to the woman she’d known her whole life, the one in whose presence you had to be careful of every word.

  “Yes, I think I will. Do you need anything from the mercantile? I’ll be going to work in a bit.”

  “Such a good thing for the reverend to do, to offer you work.” She started whipping eggs in a bowl.

  Lillian sat heavily in her chair and stared at her mother. Something had happened. Her mother had never said a positive thing about Reverend Bligh in all the years Lillian could remember.

  In a matter of minutes, Lillian had a plate of eggs and two biscuits in front of her with a pot of honey on the table. She flinched, waiting for Mama to get angry as she lowered her head to pray, but she said nothing. The Lord heard my prayer! she yelled in her head, trying to swallow her smile. That was the only explanation she could think of.

  “I’ll dust and clean up a bit tonight. When do you think Mr. Cahill will bring his son by?”

  “I’m not sure. He said in a few days.” She hadn’t eaten breakfast at home in so long, she’d forgotten how good Mama’s eggs were.

  “Well, why don’t you stop by the lumber yard on your way to the church, and invite him to stop by tonight? You can let me know what he says when you get home.”

  Lillian nodded, but couldn’t keep the smile from her lips. Stopping by the lumber yard was sure to leave Mr. Cahill speechless.

  Chapter Eleven

  James fed his son then handed him off to his mother. In the last week he’d rebounded nicely and had become a chubby, happy little baby. His mother had taken the time to sew him some gowns and knit hats. She doted on the sweet little guy. It had taken no time at all for him to take over the house and every heart within it.

  “Is it seemly to leave his curls so long?” James touched the tiny head.

  “It’s just fine. He’s a baby; that hair will fall out and more will grow in later.”

  “So it won’t stay so soft?” He blinked, realizing after he’d said it how foolish it must sound.

  “No, dear.” She patted his hand. “Enjoy it now; it won’t last long.”

  James touched his lips to the boy’s head one last time. “Take good care of him.”

  “I always do.” She sat with David in the rocker, and picked up the bottle she’d brought up with her.

  James turned and descended the stairs. His job mattered now more than ever. On his way to the lumber yard, he saw Danny.

  “Morning, James. You never stopped by to pick up your day’s pay.”

  “I only worked a few hours and, well, I’d forgotten about it.”

  Danny smiled. “I’ve heard you have a new charge to worry about.”

  “Best thing that ever came from Gwendolyn.”

  “Well, some of us warned you about that one, but you didn’t listen.”

  James stopped mid-stride and turned to his friend. “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t remember? We talked many times about how I felt she was treating you. I think what you said to me was that I was jealous and wouldn’t know a good woman if one smacked me in the face…Which has happened, I reckon.”

  “I said that? I don’t remember ever saying such things. I’m sorry, my friend.”

  “If I didn’t forgive you, I wouldn’t have asked you to work with me. Figured you’d been through enough. I didn’t want to bring it up.”

  “Yet, I’m glad you did. You made me remember just what happens when your head gets stuck in the clouds.”

  “It ain’t all bad. Sometimes clouds make rain, sometimes rainbows; you just have to wait and see.”

  Danny kept walking as they arrived at the lumber yard, heading toward the mill. James strode to his office then stopped short as the swishing of petticoats stopped him. He turned to face her, and his breath caught in his throat. Have mercy, but Miss Donaldson was pretty.

  “Good morning, Mr. Cahill.” She smiled at him, the tie of her small hat moving slightly with her jaw as she spoke, drawing his attention to her neck and mouth.

  “I…uh…do hope you haven’t been waiting long, Miss Donaldson.” He strode over to where she stood, near a varnish display he’d set up the day before.

  How could she be here, in his world? She’d never ventured into his life, not since his wedding so long ago. It had been him seeking her at every turn since then. Your head is in the clouds again… He cleared his throat and looked away from her.

  “I assure you, I was only here for a minute. My mama asked me to stop by, believe it or not.”

  “Oh, is your mother in need of some varnish?” He smiled, but looked just over her shoulder to avoid her eyes.

  She laughed, a delicate sound that sent a pleasant hum through his nerves. “I’m afraid not. She did ask me when you thought you might stop by. She wants to be prepared.” Miss Donaldson crossed her wrists in front of her and waited.

  Surely he could think of something to say. When would he visit? It should be soon, yet perhaps it was time to take a step back from Miss Donaldson? Think, give her an answer!

  “I will bring him by tonight, but I’m afraid we can’t stay late. He has to be in bed early.”

  She frowned slightly and her shoulders stiffened. He could see she was having doubts about him, about how he felt. Good, then if he stopped seeing her after tonight, it wouldn’t hurt her too much. She would already suspect he’d been playing with her. His stomach soured at the thought.

  “We sup around six; you can stop by after that, unless you’d like to join us?” Her voice rose in pitch; he could hear the hope.

  “No, my mother would disagree with me visiting for a meal without her there. My mother and yours used to be good friends
.” The lie left his mouth dry.

  “Oh? I didn’t know.” She seemed to be searching his face for something, but he refused to look her directly in the eye.

  “Well, I must get to work. I look forward to seeing you this evening.” His hand ached to grab hers and kiss it. Even gloved, it would be soft. He just knew it. He tamped down the feeling and rushed into his office, closing the door. He dropped into his desk chair and raked his hands through his hair. How could he get that woman out of his head?

  ~~~

  Lillian watched him run from her and couldn’t keep her mouth from hanging open. That had not gone as she’d planned. He had seemed to have interest. He’d even said as much, that he wanted an invitation. Now he had one and he acted…cold? She turned to leave when the elder Mr. Cahill strode through the door.

  She looked all over for some plausible reason she would be there, but found nothing and her cheeks flamed hot.

  “Miss…Donaldson, is it?”

  “Yes, sir. I just stopped by to see…that is to say…”

  He smiled at her and his eyes twinkled. “I understand; no need to explain.” He tipped his hat and walked straight back to the office James had just disappeared into.

  She walked the few buildings over to the chapel to find Mrs. Carlson decorating the front with bunting.

  “Good morning, ma’am. Do you need help?” The short brim of her hat didn’t shade her eyes and she held up her hand as she looked up at the front of the church.

  “No, child. I’m almost finished. You go on in and do your work.”

  Lillian put her hand down and strode into the little building. The reverend stood at the pulpit. She’d caught him practicing a sermon.

  “And whosoever shall be cleaved together in holy matrimony, let no man tear asunder!” His voice thundered from the pulpit. Mrs. Carlson slid into the seat next to her.

  “Reverend Bligh must have some qualms about the intended couple. He’s usually pretty reserved with the wedding sermon. I’d always thought they were good kids.”

  Lillian looked at her. “Who’s getting married?” She knew before she even asked that Mrs. Carlson wouldn’t tell her. She had not been invited to a single wedding in five long years, as if having her attend would be bad luck.