Lily and the Major

by Linda Lael Miller

  “Good heavens,” Sandra demanded, “what are you thinking about? You look like an abandoned child.”

  Lily drew up her dignity around her and managed a smile. “I was thinking about you and Caleb,” she said honestly.

  Sandra sat down on the chest at the foot of Lily’s bed, and Lily turned her chair to face her. “You’re in love with him,” Sandra said in a delighted whisper.

  Lily thought of her half-section of land, of the corn crops and fruit trees that would one day grow there. She forced herself to remember that Caleb wanted to keep her, not marry her. And, of course, there was the fact that he was a soldier. “No!” she protested, guarding her dreams.

  Sandra folded her hands in her lap. Her amethyst eyes sparkled with mischief. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I don’t care,” Lily snapped, out of patience.

  Sandra laughed. “You needn’t be so testy about it. Caleb never loved me, Lily—I’m no worry to you.”

  “If he didn’t love you, why did the two of you get married?” Lily asked reasonably.

  Sandra’s slender shoulders moved in a pretty shrug. “My aunt and uncle are among Caleb’s oldest friends. I suppose we were sort of thrown together.”

  Lily found the courage to ask, “Did you love him?”

  Sandra thought carefully. “I don’t think I knew what love was until it was too late and I’d lost him.”

  A terrible sadness swept through Lily. “But you love him now?”

  “Yes,” Sandra said with a small, resigned sigh. “For all the good it does me. I had hoped Caleb might see things differently if I came back, but I was too late. You’re here.”

  Lily was sitting on the very edge of her chair. Not since her years with the Sommers family had she felt like such an intruder. “I’ll go back to Tylerville,” she promised. “If only the stage hasn’t left.”

  Sandra reached out and closed her hand over Lily’s. “You mustn’t go—you belong here, with Caleb.”

  “You seem to think this is much more serious than it is,” Lily hastened to explain. “I hardly know Caleb. We sat together in church, and he came to supper one night, but—”

  “His eyes glowed when he told me about the picnic,” Sandra interrupted.

  Lilondered if he’d mentioned kissing her. “He—he told you?”

  “We talk about everything,” Sandra said. “Caleb regards me as a friend.”

  These people were simply too sophisticated for her, Lily decided. She might have known she wouldn’t fit in, wouldn’t even understand their thinking. “You must tell him how you feel!”

  Sandra’s smile was a sad one. “I tried. He patted me on the shoulder and said, ‘We get along fine this way, Sandy. Let’s not botch it up by talking about love.’”

  Lily had to laugh, even though she was on the verge of tears. Sandra’s imitation of Caleb’s manner had been hilariously accurate. A moment later, though, Lily’s face was serious again. “I’m so sorry, Sandra. Maybe if you wait for a while, he’ll come around.”

  Sandra shook her head. “Once the major makes up his mind, a blast of dynamite wouldn’t change it.” With that she stood and smoothed her skirts, avoiding Lily’s eyes. “Auntie sent me to tell you that the tea’s ready,” she said, and then she went out.

  After freshening up a little Lily reluctantly descended the stairs.

  Mrs. Tibbet was waiting in the parlor, a silver tea service gleaming on the wheeled cart beside her chair. There was no sign of Sandra.

  “My niece has a headache,” Mrs. Tibbet explained, gesturing for Lily to take a chair.

  Privately, Lily suspected that Sandra was weeping, and that made her feel even worse. Nonetheless, she accepted the cup of tea Mrs. Tibbet held out to her.

  There was milk on the tea cart, along with sugar, but Lily added neither to her cup. “Is there a stagecoach tomorrow?” she asked.

  Mrs. Tibbet shook her head. “No, dear. Caleb plans to drive you back to Tylerville himself.”

  Lily fidgeted uncomfortably at the thought. The trip would take at least two hours, and she wasn’t prepared to spend such a long time alone in his company. “You speak of him so kindly,” she remarked, “when he broke your niece’s heart.”

  Gertrude Tibbet touched the chignon of glowing silver hair at her nape in a gesture Lily suspected was habitual. “As I told you, my dear, there are two sides to this story. Before you condemn Caleb for a rounder, perhaps you’d better listen to his account.”

  Lily swallowed a sip of her tea. “Sandra’s still in love with him,” she heard herself say.

  Gertrude actually chuckled. “Is that what she told you?”

  Before Lily could reply, there was a rap at the front door. Gertrude made no move to get out of her chair, and Lily was about to answer the summons, thinking her hostess hadn’t heard, when Caleb strode into the house. He was carrying the ever-present campaign hat in one hand.

  “Hello, Gertrude,” he said, bending to kiss the older woman’s crinkled cheek. Even as he did so, however, his eyes were fixed on Lily.

  Gertrude patted his glovemarkednd. “Sit down, dear. Lily was just telling me that Sandra is madly in love with you.”

  Caleb laughed, to Lily’s amazement, and tossed his hat onto a settee. After peeling off his gloves he made his way through the forest of bric-a-brac to the liquor decanter waiting on the sideboard. He poured himself a drink with all the aplomb of a person who has spent a great deal of time in a house and feels welcome there.

  Lily watched with rounded eyes as he tossed back the drink, set his glass down with a clunk, and came to sit at the end of the settee. He was so close that she could catch the sunshine-and-bruised-grass scent of him. “Well?” she demanded.

  Caleb rubbed his chin with one hand, as though stroking a beard he didn’t have. “Gertrude,” he began, “could you excuse us for a few minutes, please?”

  Lily’s hostess nodded, rose from her chair, and left the room.

  Lily hated to see her go. “You brought me here under false pretenses,” she accused in an angry whisper, her eyes snapping as she glared at Caleb.

  “That’s not true,” he replied, his tone damnably sensible. “I’m not married to Sandra or anyone else. I have every right to take you to a dance.”

  “You might have mentioned her!”

  “I would have, of course. She wasn’t here when I met you, Lily—she arrived the day I got back to the fort.”

  Lily bit her lower lip for a moment. His reply sounded so logical. “But she loves you.”

  Caleb gave a ragged sigh. “So she says. Talk is cheap with Sandra. What matters is that I don’t love her in return.”

  Lily imagined having this man’s love and then losing it, and the emotion that ensued was almost indiscernible from grief. “How can you be so cold and calm about this? That woman was your wife!”

  The warmth left Caleb’s eyes. “That really depends on how you define the word ‘wife,’” he retorted. “Now, are you still going to the dance with me tonight, or has Sandra convinced you I’m a scoundrel?”

  Despite everything, Lily’s heart still leapt a little at the thought of spending an entire evening in this man’s arms. She lowered her eyes for a moment, then forced them back to Caleb’s face. “I’m still going,” she said softly.

  Caleb’s grin was bright enough to push back the shadows in the corners of the Tibbets’ parlor. “Good,” he whispered, and then he bent forward far enough to kiss Lily lightly on the mouth.

  She tasted on her own lips the brandy he’d just drunk, and the experience brought that strange, hurting warmth to her loins again.

  “I’m back,” Mrs. Tibbet chimed in friendly warning, stepping into the room with a steaming cup of coffee and a plateful of cookies. She handed the coffee to Caleb and set the cookies on the tea cart. “Have you seen the colonel this morning, Caleb?”

  The major shook his head. “No. He’s barricaded behind his office door, working budget.”

  Mrs. Tibbet laughed.
“That always puts him in a fine state of mind.”

  Caleb chuckled. “Right. And it probably explains why Costner and Phillips took their troops on patrol today.”

  The light banter made Lily feel better. She’d been starting to see herself as one of those shameless homewreckers she’d read about in the penny dreadfuls. “They’ll be back in time for the officers’ ball, of course,” she remarked, mostly to join in the conversation.

  Caleb gave her a look of good-natured warning. “It won’t matter whether they are or not. You’re saving every dance for me, Miss Chalmers.”

  Lily’s cheeks warmed at the intimacy of his tone. One would have thought that Mrs. Tibbet wasn’t even there, the way he talked. “I imagine I can dance with whomever I like,” she said, to put Caleb in his place.

  He wouldn’t be put. “As long as that whomever is me,” he responded.

  In that moment it seemed to Lily that lightning had crept out of the sunny spring sky to crackle in the room. She didn’t speak, because she knew Caleb would have an answer for anything she said. He could be so dreadfully bossy.

  Just then Sandra came down the stairs. Although there was a hint of redness around her eyes, she was utterly composed. She smiled and crossed the room to greet Caleb, and, like a gentleman, he stood.

  Sandra’s hands closed over his, and she rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Hello, darling,” she said.

  He gave her an annoyed look. “Hello, Sandra.”

  “Everyone will be very glad, I’m sure, to know that I’m feeling better,” she announced to the room in general, turning away from Caleb to assess the contents of the cookie plate. After due consideration she selected a macaroon.

  When she sat down it was on the settee where Caleb had been, and she held his hat fondly in her lap, toying with the tassels on the gold braid. “I suppose you and Lily have been planning your night at the officers’ ball,” she said wistfully.

  Caleb reached out to reclaim his hat. “I believe you’re going with Lieutenant Costner,” he remarked.

  “I believe I am,” Sandra answered, smiling her beautiful smile.

  “Have a wonderful time,” Caleb replied shortly. Then he surprised everyone in the room by taking Lily’s hand and hauling her to her feet. “Come with me,” he commanded.

  Lily was too startled to protest, and too eager to escape that room, which suddenly seemed more crowded than ever.

  Caleb led her outside, along the porch and into a shadowy, screened-off room that overlooked the beginnings of a garden. “No matter what Sandra says,” he told her, “I want you to remember this.”

  Lily stared up at him. “What?” she asked as he pulled her close. She could feel the brass buttons on his paneled shirt pressing against her bosom.

  stead of answering, Caleb bent his head and kissed her, his mouth gentle at first, then fierce. She struggled for a moment before giving herself up to the hurricane of sensation his lips and tongue created within her.

  She couldn’t breathe when he let her go; it was as though he had been her air supply.

  He smiled at her disgruntled expression and kissed her forehead lightly. “I’ll see you at dinner, Lily-flower,” he said. And then he was putting on his hat and walking away.

  Lily stood alone on the sun porch for a long time, breathing deeply and waiting for her blush to fade. She knew Mrs. Tibbet and Sandra would guess what she’d been up to if she returned to the parlor in her present state.

  When she returned Sandra was placidly nibbling another cookie, and Mrs. Tibbet was out of the room.

  “I see Caleb has brought you around to his way of thinking,” Sandra remarked.

  Lily was chagrined that the aftereffects of Caleb’s kiss still showed, and after all her efforts at composure, too. “It might be a good idea if you and I didn’t discuss Caleb,” she said evenly.

  Sandra got up, crossed the room to a cabinet, and returned with a sewing basket. “You may be right,” she agreed. “Tell me about yourself, Lily. Where were you born?”

  “Chicago,” Lily answered, thinking back to those relatively happy days before the soldier had come along and convinced her mother to give up her children. “What about you?”

  “I’m from Fox Chapel, Pennsylvania, like everyone else in this house,” was Sandra’s reply. She was frowning with concentration as she threaded a needle.

  Fox Chapel. Lily remembered Caleb telling her that he came from that same town. “I see.”

  There was nothing malicious in Sandra’s voice or manner when she spoke again. “I hear you plan to homestead. That’s a very ambitious idea for a woman, isn’t it?”

  Lily let out a sigh. Sandra could only have learned of Lily’s plans by talking with Caleb. Why was it that every subject seemed to lead back to the major? “I think I can manage it.”

  “We often think we can manage things—or people. And then it turns out that we can’t.”

  Lily looked with longing at the door. “I believe I’ll just go out for a short walk, if you don’t mind.”

  Sandra smiled at her. “I could go with you,” she suggested. “My headache is gone now.”

  Hastily, Lily shook her head. “I won’t be long,” she promised. And then she made her escape.

  Since she knew what lay in the direction she and Sandra and Mrs. Tibbet had taken earlier, Lily headed off in the opposite one. She passed a dozen other houses like the Tibbets’, and then there was an open field. Beyond that was the most depressing collection of shanties Lily had ever seen.

  She ventured closer, driven by curiosity. Dirty, naked children played in front of the tumbledown shacks while raucous womeuted at them.

  Lily glanced back over one shoulder to reassure herself that she hadn’t imagined the elegant two-story houses with their neat picket fences and budding rose gardens. She took another step closer to the shacks.

  “What do you want, lady?” a little girl asked with a revolting sniffle.

  Lily looked at the urchin in despair, unable, for the moment, to speak.

  The child tried again. “You lookin’ for your man?”

  As the meaning of the little one’s words sunk in Lily took a step backwards. “No.”

  “Sometimes ladies come down here to Suds Row lookin’ for their men. When that happens, there’s usually an awful cat fight.”

  Lily tried to smile. “I suppose there is. D-do you live here?”

  The scamp put out a grimy hand and smiled. “I’m Elsie.”

  “My name is Lily,” she responded, after a lapse of a second or two, and shook the child’s hand. “Elsie, do the soldiers come here very much?”

  Elsie nodded. “Them what wants a woman or a clean shirt do,” she answered.

  Lily was sickened. “And the colonel allows that?”

  The child shrugged. “We don’t see him down here. He’s got a wife. Besides, he’s probably too old to want snugglin’.”

  The fire of wrath burned in Lily’s soul. She understood hardship all too well, and the fact that it existed in the midst of plenty only made matters worse.

  She whirled, skirts in hand, and stormed back toward the center of the fort. Maybe everyone else was afraid to confront Colonel Tibbet with the plight of these people, but she wasn’t.

  Chapter

  5

  Since Lily didn’t know exactly where to look for Colonel Tibbet, she began her inquiry in the general store.

  Glad of the shadowy interior, which cooled her temper a little, she assessed the merchandise available. There was tobacco and flour, calico and bullets, boot blacking and licorice. Lily spotted a dime novel with the intriguing title Typhoon Sally, Queen of the Rodeo, but she didn’t consider purchasing it. She’d spent enough on her dress, gloves, and bonnet.

  Behind the counter stood a rotund man wearing a sergeant’s stripes on the sleeve of his shirt. He was only a little taller than Lily, his head was bald, and his eyes were a twinkling, kindly blue. “Hello, there, miss. How can I help you?”

  Lily drew
herself up to her full height of five feet, two and a half inches. “I’m looking for Colonel Tibbet. Could you please direct me to his office?”

  The sergeant’s friendly smile revealed a shadow of bewilderment. “Thinking of enlisting, ma’a” he teased.

  Some of Lily’s normal good humor was restored, and she returned his smile. “I don’t believe I’d make a very good soldier. Now, if you’ll just advise me as to where I might find the colonel—”

  “Right next door,” answered the sergeant, cocking a thumb in the direction of the log building with flags on either side of its door. “But I wouldn’t bother him for anything less than a full-scale Comanche attack if I was you.”

  Lily frowned. “There aren’t any Comanches around here.”

  “Exactly,” replied the sergeant with a waggle of his index finger. “Colonel Tibbet is a fine man, miss. But when he’s got to deal with those fellers back in the capital, well, some of his good Christian nature just up and deserts him.”

  Lily recalled the conversation between Mrs. Tibbet and Caleb concerning the colonel’s antipathy for going over some budget, but she couldn’t allow herself to be daunted. She thanked the sergeant kindly for his assistance and set out for the building next door.

  There Lily found a handsome young corporal seated behind a desk. He smiled and got to his feet. “Corporal Pierce at your service, ma’am,” he said quickly.

  “I’m here to see Colonel Tibbet,” Lily announced, lifting her chin.

  “I’m afraid he’s very busy—”

  “I’ll only take a moment of his time.”

  Corporal Pierce’s dancing blue eyes swept over Lily’s yellow dress. “I don’t suppose you’re going to be at the dance tonight,” he ventured, lifting one hand to smooth his light brown hair.

  Before Lily could make a response the door of the inner office opened, and Colonel Tibbet was standing in the chasm. “Corporal, go and fetch me some coffee from the mess hall right away.”

  “Yes, sir.” The young soldier looked at Lily and shrugged, as if to say, here’s your chance. Then he hurried out to obey the colonel’s order.