by Clay, Verna
Sweet Lilah, if you look closely, you will see that my tears have fallen on this page as testament to my great longing for our reunion. In closing, if you do not decide to come, I ask that you write a response that Mr. Garrett can bring with him upon his return to Oregon.
Of course, I refuse to believe anything but the happiest outcome of my plea. I shall see you soon, my precious baby sister.
All the love I have,
Hallie
Lilah caught her breath on a sob, her tears dripping and mingling with Hallie's tear stains. For a long time she stared at the words with blurred vision. In her heart of hearts, she wanted nothing more than to fulfill her sister's plea for a reunion, but her shame would not allow it.
Pouring water from a pitcher into a bowl, she dampened a cloth and blotted her face and eyes. Mr. Garrett was waiting for her reply. Mortification of her blatant behavior caused her to cringe and she berated herself for believing him to be the man sent by Charles.
Inhaling several times, she attempted to still her trembling. Reaching deep within herself for the courage to face Mr. Garrett, she smoothed some wayward curls, adjusted her dress, and pushed the words of her sister's letter to the back of her mind. She needed to apologize to Mr. Garrett and send him on his way. She would ask him to return on the morrow to receive the responsive letter she would write.
Holding her head high and her body regally, as she had been taught by a famous courtesan, she descended the staircase and walked to the sitting room. Pausing in the open doorway, she fortified herself and then said to Mr. Garrett's back. "I have read the letter, sir."
The cowboy turned from gazing above the hearth at a painting of a homey cottage set amidst tall pines that always reminded Lilah of her childhood home, and she felt her face flame when she remembered caressing his chest. Moving her gaze from Mr. Garrett's intent stare, she said with unfeigned contriteness, "I am truly sorry for what happened earlier. I…um…thought you were someone else…someone I had yet to meet." Oh God, that sounds terrible. "I mean, well…it's kind of…complicated." Lilah shifted her gaze to the floor and wished it would open and swallow her.
"Ma'am, you don't need to explain anything." The cowboy gestured toward the sofa, "Would you like to sit?"
"Oh, yes. I'm sorry; I should be asking that of you."
A sound from the doorway distracted Lilah and her guest. Mary said, "Ma'am, this post just came." She frowned at the cowboy as she handed a letter to her employer. Lilah realized that Mary still believed Mr. Garrett was the man Charles had sent for a night of pleasure, and she hastened to say, "Mary, this is Mr. Rush Garrett. He…he's a friend of my sister and brother-in-law." Her housekeeper's eyes rounded. Lilah set the letter aside and said quickly, "Will you please bring us some tea?"
"Of course, ma'am." Mary hurried from the room and Lilah wished she could go with her. Rush Garrett was too tall, too intense, and his gaze too observant. He waited for her to sit before settling into a chair across from her.
With an unsteady hand, she pushed a stray curl behind her ear. The silence was so thick she could feel its weight. Finally, she said, "I have read my sister's letter and her plea that I return to Oregon with you. I-I cannot leave. So I will write a responsive letter this evening and ask that you come again tomorrow to retrieve it for delivery upon your return to Oregon." Lilah had been staring at the floor while she spoke and now she lifted her lashes to peek at Mr. Garrett. His chestnut gaze bore a hole through her thin armor and she quickly looked back at the carpet.
Mr. Garrett spoke in a deep and gravely voice, "Miss Parker, I respectfully ask that you reconsider your decision. Of course, your sister will be overjoyed that you are safe, but it will not satisfy her desire to reunite with her only sibling. I can assure you that you will be safe in my care, and after your visit, I will escort you back to New Orleans. And if you are concerned about funds for your passage to Oregon, all your expenses have been taken care of."
Lilah lifted her lashes again and met Mr. Garrett's gaze straight on. "It is a most generous and tempting offer, but it's simply not possible for me to leave."
The sound of Mary's return halted further conversation and after she set the tea tray on the table between Lilah and Mr. Garrett, she poured the beverage without having to be asked. Lilah would thank her later for her sensitivity. Mary was a dear heart and knew all her secrets.
Chapter 3: Clash of Wills
Rush lifted the tiny teacup and sipped. Most men of his acquaintance felt silly partaking of a woman's tea ritual, but he had been raised by a mother who had made etiquette a top priority. He felt as comfortable in a parlor as he did on the range. He studied the beautiful woman over the top of his cup.
Over the past fifteen years, his bounty hunting skills had been honed to include people reading. And if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that Miss Lilah Parker wanted to see her sister. Her reason for refusing had yet to be explained, but he had a feeling it had something to do with her "occupation." According to Hallie and Cooper, she was a successful seamstress. His mouth twitched; there wasn't a seamstress alive who could afford a townhouse like this. A few well placed inquiries had enlightened him to the fact that she was mistress to a respected businessman and civic leader. However, judging by his encounter with her, she was conducting "business" on the side. He wondered if her benefactor was aware of that.
While she poured cream and sugar into her tea, Rush perused her face and body. Although still stunning, she had obviously been a rare beauty in her day. Her combination of fair hair, pale gray eyes, flawless complexion, and luscious body, was enough to drive any man to distraction. The fact that he had allowed her to believe he was her intended guest long enough for her to unbutton his shirt, proved just how distracted he'd been. Normally, he steered clear of such women, preferring occasional "distractions" with widows he'd come to know over his many years of traveling the country.
Lilah lifted her gaze to his while she daintily sipped her tea and his gut tightened. Damn, but her eyes are beautiful. Setting his cup on its saucer, he said, "Miss Parker, may I call you Lilah?"
"If you wish."
"Thank you. You should call me Rush."
She continued looking at him but did not respond.
He tapped his fingers on one knee. "I'll be leaving New Orleans in two days and it's not my intention to pry into your personal affairs, but I believe I must speak my mind because time is short."
Her gray eyes locked with his. "What is it you wish to say, Mr. Garrett?"
He barely smiled at her refusal to speak his first name, and then forged on. "Your sister informed me that you are a seamstress."
Her eyes rounded.
He continued, "Obviously, she does not know the truth of your profession."
Her eyes sparked, which morphed the gray to green. "You are impertinent, sir. I–"
He interrupted. "As I said, I'm leaving in two days and I do not have time for niceties. Your sister loves you. And knowing her and Cooper, I can assure you they will not turn their backs on you because you entertain men."
Lilah jumped to her feet, toppling her teacup. "I will not speak of this with you and I will not go to Oregon. By three o'clock tomorrow, I will have a letter ready for my sister that you may pick up before you leave."
Rush stared at the tea dripping from the table onto an expensive rug. With no attempt to right the cup, he slowly stood and met her anger straight on. "I'm staying at the Wellington Hotel. I repeat, 'your sister loves you'." He took two steps toward the door, paused, and turned. "I wish I had a family who loved me as much as yours loves you. Sometimes you don't know what you have until it's lost to you."
Rush watched Lilah's eyes darken before she said tightly, "Please leave, Mr. Garrett."
He nodded and walked from the room.
* * *
As soon as Mr. Garrett left the sitting room, Lilah's legs felt so weak she sank back onto the sofa. She feared the man's gaze had seen beyond her defenses and into the vulnerable p
laces of her heart. Reaching for the toppled cup, she righted it just as Mary entered.
"The gentleman just left the house," said Mary. She saw the spilled tea. "Oh, dear, what has happened? Let me clean that up." She rushed from the room and returned with a cloth. Bending to the table she soaked up the tea and then began blotting the carpet. "Honey, I'm so sorry for bringing him to your room. I just assumed he was your gentleman caller. Please forgive–"
"Dearest, it's not your fault. I assumed the same thing. He…he was sent by my sister and her husband to find me and persuade me to return to Oregon with him."
Mary stopped mopping the floor. "Oh, Lilah, that's wonderful! I know how much you miss your sister and want to meet your niece and nephews."
Lilah's eyes rounded as she stared at her friend. "I can't go to Oregon! I haven't the courage to face my sister. She's an upstanding, sweet, and moral woman. I couldn't bear for her to find out that I've lied to her all these years about being a seamstress."
Mary made a clucking noise, showing her disapproval of Lilah's response. But before she could voice what she was thinking, Lilah lifted the letter delivered a few minutes earlier and asked, "Who delivered this?"
"A courier."
Lilah could see the intent on Mary's face to continue discussing Hallie, and said, "I don't want to talk about her right now." She opened the letter, read it, and tossed it back on the tray. "It's from Charles' friend explaining that business obligations have kept him away. He will arrive on Thursday."
Evidently still miffed, Mary lifted the tray and left the room.
Chapter 4: Brutus
The night was darker than most but Lilah could still see very well, which was impossible. Her sister stood several feet in front of her. Lilah shouted with joy, "Hallie!"
Hallie stepped backwards.
Strange. Lilah stepped forward.
Suddenly, Hallie turned and ran. Lilah yelled her name again. Hallie paused, turned around, smiled sadly, and said, "Why have you always been so stubborn?"
Lilah gasped and reached a hand toward her sister, but she was running away. Sudden longing sent Lilah chasing after her, but whenever she was about to overtake Hallie, a mist arose and separated them, and when it dissipated, Hallie was again out of reach.
Now there were others running beside her sister, children and a tall cowboy. Lilah couldn't see their faces, but she knew beyond any doubt that they were Hallie's children and her husband. Longing for her family, so intense she sobbed and begged them to wait for her, clutched the core of her being and would not release the pain in her heart. Hallie turned again, as did those whose faces remained blurred, and said matter-of-factly, "Lilah, my sweet, for once in your life, please make the right choice."
Lilah gasped and jerked awake. The curtains in her bedroom billowed in a rare breeze and floated spookily, making her heart hammer. The nightmare had been so real that even now she relived the frustration of running after loved ones but never reaching them.
Climbing from her bed, she poured water from a pitcher into a bowl and dipped her hands in it to splash her face and arms before walking to the window and gazing at the empty street below. Her heart still raced. After a long time of deep breathing, she felt calm enough to return to bed. It wasn't until the wee hours of morning that she drifted back to sleep.
The following night she dreamed again. However, in this dream it was Hallie chasing her. Lilah wanted to stop running, but her feet refused to obey. The agonizing screams from Hallie begging her to wait, and her inability to control her own body, finally woke her with a sense of panic she had never experienced.
When, on the third night she awoke to another nightmare, she jumped from her bed, lit her oil lamp, and reached for Hallie's beseeching letter, holding it to her breast. Unable to squelch her desire for reunion any longer, she gave in to her deepest longing and determined that as soon as it was daylight, she would hire a coach to take her to the Wellington Hotel. She prayed that Mr. Garrett was still there.
As she had requested, he returned the day after their initial meeting, and although she refused to meet with him, he accepted the letter Mary handed him and said he would deliver it to Hallie.
Maybe he left right after receiving my letter and I've lost my opportunity.
Because coaches traveled her neighborhood less frequently than busier sections of town, it was mid morning before she was on her way to Mr. Garrett's hotel. Nervousness tied her stomach in knots and lodged a lump in her throat that she couldn't swallow. As soon as the coach stopped in front of the hotel, she impatiently opened the door and waited for the coachman to come around and lower the steps. Quickly handing him his fare and a reasonable tip, she rushed toward the hotel entrance. Inside the moderately nice accommodation, she paused for an instant to compose herself before approaching the clerk behind the polished counter.
"Excuse me, sir. I am here to see Mr. Rush Garrett. Would you please send one of your bell boys to his room to let him know he has a visitor?"
The clerk, a middle-aged gentleman, almost completely bald, with a clean shaven face and a hint of jowls, looked down his bespectacled nose and said, "Mr. Garrett checked out of the hotel over an hour ago."
Air rushed from Lilah's lungs and she sagged against the counter. She must have looked ill, because the haughty clerk suddenly seemed worried. "Ma'am, you're not going to faint, are you?" He glanced quickly around the lobby as if searching for someone to help in case she did.
Blinking rapidly, she replied, "Do you know where he went? I must see him about an urgent matter."
"Ma'am, I think he was on his way westward."
Lilah couldn't stop a groan.
"Ah, but, he might still be in the saloon. I saw him enter there after leaving the hotel. It's across the street." The clerk motioned toward the hotel's front windows where Lilah could see the words "Gabby's Saloon" painted in large block letters across the top of a freestanding building directly in front of the hotel.
Her lips trembled when she said, "Thank you."
The baldpated man replied, "Ma'am, you aren't thinking of going into the saloon alone are you. It's not a place for a lady."
She straightened from her slumped position. "Sir, thank you for your warning, but I assure you, I will not be alone. Brutus will be with me."
Not wanting to be questioned further, she turned and swiftly exited the hotel.
* * *
Rush swigged the last of his whiskey and left a generous tip for the barmaid. She caught his eye and winked. For three days, she'd tried to entice him into her bed. She was young and pretty, but flings with prostitutes in saloons didn't appeal to him. He winked back, planted his hat on his head, and said loud enough for her to hear, "Bye, Sally."
A rustle and the sudden turning of heads by cowboys at the bar, most of whom were already two-sheets-to-the-wind even at this early hour, and card players hunkered around warped and marred tables, brought his attention to the swinging doors of the saloon. The "distraction" had pushed past the doors and paused just inside the room. Rush scratched the stubble on his jaw and waited for Miss Lilah Parker to see him.
By now, every red-blooded man in the saloon had his head cocked in her direction. Although her dark green dress was chaste, with a high neckline, it did little to hide her generous curves. In Rush's estimation, she was just about the most desirable woman he'd ever gazed upon. The men in the saloon seemed to think so too. Behind him he heard a slurred, "Damn!" Across the room someone whistled, and from the other end, another man said, "Well, I ain't never…" Several more murmurs of appreciation sounded and Rush was just about to step forward, when a stocky cowboy built like a locomotive, planted himself in front of her. The lout's gaze brazenly roamed her body. "Now ain't you a sweet lil' thang. I bet I'm just the man yer lookin' fer."
Rush didn't want to bring attention to himself so he slowly edged forward and slipped his duster behind his holstered revolver, giving him quick access to the weapon.
With a clear voice that God, or
more likely the devil, had intended to drive men crazy with desire, Lilah said, "No, sir, you're not. And Brutus confirms that."
The barrel-chested cowboy looked confused, as did the other patrons of the saloon. Lilah smiled sweetly and lifted the hand that had been resting in the folds of her skirt. Pointing a shiny derringer at the cowboy's heart, she said, "And Brutus is never wrong."
The cowboy's eyes widened and he took a step backward. Lilah's ease in handling a gun was obvious. A snarl twisted the man's mouth, but before he could respond, she called out, "Mr. Garrett, are you in here?"
Rush tried his damndest not to grin. "Yes, ma'am."
She didn't remove her eyes from her uninvited admirer. "I'll meet you outside."
"Yes, ma'am."
Waving the gun slightly, she said to the cocky cowboy, "I have no qualms about shooting you in the heart, and the sheriff wouldn't hold me responsible if you so much as touch me. And, just so you're aware, I'm a perfect shot."
Rush kept his hand above his gun as Lilah slowly backed out the door. When she had disappeared, the cowboys inside the saloon corporately sighed with relief. A man from a card table called to the cowboy who had been rebuffed, "I wouldn't mess with her, Farley. She's the fancy woman of Charles Karney. He's that rich–"
"I know who he is," Farley bit back. "Damn, bitch!"
Several heads had turned toward Rush when he'd responded to Lilah, and now Farley eyed him with hatred. "What's she want with you?"
"That's none of your business," he replied, as he stepped toward the entrance.
Farley's gaze moved to Rush's Colt .45 Peacemaker and back to his face. Murmuring profanities, he said, "She's just a high class whore and not worth my time."
Most of the men in the room turned away so Farley couldn't see the smirks on their faces. Rush didn't want to buy trouble so he remained mute as he exited the saloon. Still facing the entrance, he backed into the street ready to shoot if things escalated into a showdown.
