“Yes?” His voice was a raw whisper muffled by the tingling flesh of her neck. He found her secret place and plundered it gently, using her own dampness to heighten her sensitivity to his touch.
“I—despise you.”
“1 can see that,” he answered as she thrust her head back against his shoulder and groaned with helpless pleasure. The practiced motions of his hand were faster now, and a burning tremor was beginning deep inside Lily.
She pressed herself shamelessly to his hand, still holding her skirt for him, and her head moved from side to side in delirium. “Oh, dear God, Caleb—Caleb—”
Knowing somehow that her untutored body was about to erupt with passion, Caleb increased his efforts and sent Lily spinning into the sky to become a part of the thunder and the lightning.
When it was over she turned to him, feeling a strange, determined peace. But she did not drop her skirts. “Take me, Caleb,” she said. “Make love to me like you did last n,” s.”
He shook his head, but she could see his manhood swelling against the front of his trousers. “You’ll be sore. Another time, Lily.”
“Now,” she said, reaching out to caress him as boldly as he’d caressed her.
Caleb groaned. “Lily—”
She spread his coat on the damp ground and lay down on it, holding up her arms. Her skirt lay crumpled around her waist, leaving the lower half of her body naked.
In the coming moments Lily could believe Caleb’s earlier assertion that she had the same power he wielded. He could not fight her. He sank to his knees on the ground and opened his trousers while Lily unbuttoned his shirt.
He brought down the front of her dress and bent to suckle her breast through the flimsy fabric of her camisole, and Lily groaned at his teasing.
He entered her slowly, cautiously, but Lily saw a conqueror looking out of his eyes, a primitive warrior claiming his woman, defying her to resist him.
The pleasure was so keen that Lily was soon in a fever, clinging to Caleb, begging him for the relief only he could provide. He gave her more and more of himself until Lily’s body convulsed in a series of violent spasms and she shouted her triumph to the sky.
Caleb’s release came moments later, and Lily caressed his chest and face and shoulders in a gentle frenzy while he threw his head back and, with a hoarse cry, spilled his seed deep within her. Lily comforted him in the aftermath while his body still trembled with the ferocity of his satisfaction.
After a time he sat up. He raised Lily’s dampened camisole so that he could admire her bare breasts. In the moist, cool air their tips tightened like roses closing back into buds. With his handkerchief he began to cleanse her.
Although the motion was infinitely tender, it set Lily afire again. Caleb continued the gentle ministrations until she cried out, arching her back in soft surrender.
“Can you live without that, Lily?” he asked minutes later when she was dressing, her face averted in embarrassment. “Can you lie alone in your bed every night for the rest of your life and remember how it was?”
She ignored him, climbing back into the buggy seat, his coat settled around her shoulders again. The scent of Caleb rose from the cloth, a treacherous comfort. “Let’s go on,” she said. “The rain is letting up.”
Caleb swore quietly and joined her in the buggy, taking the reins in his hands. An hour later they arrived at Mrs. McAllister’s rooming house in Tylerville.
The opinionated widow greeted Lily’s news with an approving smile. It was obvious that she expected her departing tenant to give up the crazy idea of starting a laundry business after a week or so and throw all her energies into reining in Caleb Halliday.
Lily and Caleb had Sunday dinner with Mrs. McAllister after calling on Charlie Mayfield so that Lily could quit her job, and then they drove back to the fort. Although the roads were muddy and the horse was tired, they didn’t stop. They didn’t talk much, either.
Lily had no idea; her mind had been so full of Caleb that she hadn’t thought about that. Nor had she collected her savings from the bank in Tylerville or bought the equipment she would need to wash clothes. Although the schoolmaster’s cottage was a cozy little place, it would require some preparation before she could move in.
“You could spend the night with me,” he suggested when Lily didn’t answer his question. “I’ve been staying in the barracks, but I have a house.”
She glared at him.
“Forget I said anything,” Caleb sighed. And he turned the buggy toward the Tibbet place.
Chapter
8
With help from Sandra and the loan of some basic household items from Gertrude Tibbet Lily was able to move into the schoolmaster’s cottage three days after her return to Fort Deveraux. She put up placards around the post, said a prayer, and waited for her clients to arrive.
She was stringing up clothesline that bright Wednesday morning when her first customer rounded the tiny house to find her in the backyard.
It was the soldier who had ridden with her on the stagecoach the previous Saturday morning, and Lily had to force herself to smile as she greeted him.
His eyes moved over her in an unsettling sweep, then he held out an armful of dirty shirts. “I need these washed and pressed,” he said. “The name’s Judd. Judd Ingram.”
Lily lowered her arms from the post where she’d been tying one end of a clothesline, suddenly aware that Private Ingram was looking at her breasts. “If you’ll just leave your things there, on the back step …”
He laid the clothes down where Lily had asked. “I thought maybe we could go inside and talk a while.”
Lily swallowed. She’d been warned that men would expect other services besides the washing of their clothes, but she hadn’t truly believed it. Not until now. “I’ll be busy with this for some time,” she hedged, indicating the clothesline.
The slender, wiry man grinned and swaggered over to her.
“Here. Let me do it.” With that, he elbowed Lily aside and reached up to make a firm knot in the line.
The smell of him made Lily’s eyes water. “Thank you,” she said in a hesitant voice.
Ingram turned to beam down at her, having finished his task. “There. Now let’s go inside.”
Lily’s bewilderment was replaced by indignation. She placed her hands on her hips and met Judd Ingram’s eager, icy gaze. “I don’t think you understand, Mr. Ingram,” she said. “I’m here to wash clothes, and that’s all I do. If you’ll come back tomorrow afternoon, I’ll have your things ready by then.”
The soldier looked disappointed, then annoyed. “What’s the matter? Ain’t my money as good as the major’s?”
Lily flushed with fury, but financial prudence kept her from slapping her first client across the face. Beneath her rage was the painful fear that Caleb had boasted about conquering her. “I’ll thank you to explain that remark.”
“Major Halliday’s been whistlin’ under his breath ever since the dance Saturday night, when you two went off together,” Judd replied insolently. “Major Halliday lectures, and he hollers, but he don’t whistle.”
“Your laundry will be ready tomorrow,” Lily said coldly, and then she took Judd Ingram’s dirty shirts from where he’d left them on the step and went inside her tiny house. She bolted the door the moment she’d closed it, and through its glass window she watched as Ingram slapped his cap against one leg and then stormed away.
She was building a fire under the big wash kettle she’d bought at the general store when a second visitor arrived.
The woman was taller than Lily and sturdy as a man, and her complexion was pockmarked. Her hair, pulled back from her face in a fashion so severe as to look painful, was a nondescript brown. Her broad hands were red, the skin cracked open in places, and she ran them down the skirts of her plain calico dress in a gesture of frustration.
“You the one that hung up them signs around the fort?”
Lily looked at the caller for a moment before nodding and go
ing on with getting her fire started. She said nothing, waiting for the woman to state her business.
“I’m Velvet Hughes,” she finally said, rubbing her right hand against her skirt once more before offering it in a stiff and patently unfriendly greeting.
Lily spared no time to consider the disparities between the woman and her name. It was obvious that this call wasn’t social. “My name is Lily Chalmers,” she answered, taking the offered hand. It felt swollen and callused.
“I reckon you’re new around these parts and don’t know the rules,” Velvet allowed. “You can’t take up in the laundry business if you don’t live on Suds Row.”
Lily folded her arms. “I hadn’t heard that rule.”
“You’ve heard it now.”
Lily ran the tip of her tongue over her lips and stood up a little straighter. “Who made this rule?”
“We did,” Velvet replied calmly. “We what live down on the Row, I mean. We don’t allow nobody to break it, neither.”
Lily stood her ground. “I’m afraid it’s impossible for me to come and live on Suds Row, since I paid out a good part of my savings to rent this house.” She paused and smiled warmly. “But thank you for inviting me.”
Velvet’s unfortunate complexion reddened. “You don’t understand. There ain’t no shacks left down there no way. We want you to stop takin’ in wash.”
Lily made herself tak a step closer. It was her policy to do that when she felt like turning tail and running. “Are you threatening me, Velvet Hughes?”
Velvet sighed. “I reckon there will be trouble if you don’t take heed,” she admitted, and there was a sorrowful expression in her eyes. “Pretty thing like you could have any man you set your cap for. Why would you want any part of what we do?”
Lily knew Velvet wasn’t talking about washing trousers and shirts, underwear and stockings. Mingled with the battle-ready challenge she felt was a sense of abject pity. “I’ve got plans for the money.”
The visitor gave an unladylike snort of contempt. She looked Lily over in a way that was patently derisive and said bluntly, “You think you’re real smart, don’t you, miss? Just a mite better than them what live on the Row. Well, you’d better just watch yourself, ’cause my friends and me, we might see to it that you ain’t so pretty no more.”
Fear braided itself around Lily’s spine, but she kept her back straight and her chin high. She’d dealt with a good many bullies in her life, and she hadn’t let one get the better of her yet. She walked past Velvet to the rusty pump and began drawing water for the first batch of wash. “I’m disappointed that you don’t want to be friends,” she remarked.
Velvet shook her head in amazement as she watched Lily carry the first bucketful of water over to the kettle and pour it in. Lily suspected that, for all her rough talk, Velvet had never really gotten the knack of browbeating people.
She was staring at Lily now. “You’re just going to go right on takin’ in wash, ain’t you?” she marveled. “Here you got a man like the major to look after you, and you want to do this!” She waved her arm in a wild gesture that took in the clotheslines and the big cast-iron wash kettle.
Lily stopped on her way back to the pump for another bucketful of water. For the second time in a day someone had thrown her relationship with Caleb in her face. “What do you mean, I’ve got the major to look after me?”
A delicate blush pooled beneath the coarse surface of Velvet’s skin. Clearly, a trace of modesty lingered in her spirit from earlier, more innocent days. “I think you know,” she said, and her light green eyes held a nervous challenge.
Lily fought to hold onto her temper. That was another thing she’d discovered: A person who couldn’t control her emotions was at a disadvantage. “I’m not a prostitute,” she said evenly, and with dignity. “Furthermore, I refuse to believe that all the women on Suds Row ply such a scurrilous trade. Do you?”
Velvet’s eyes widened in shock, as though Lily had flung cold water into her face. Her mouth and throat moved, but no sound came out.
“You’d better go now,” Lily said, beginning to work the pump handle again. “I have work to do.”
Velvet started to say something, then closed her mouth and stomped angrily out of the yard. Lily finished filling the laundry kettle, added wood to the fire at its base, and tossed Judd Ingram’s filthy shirts in to soak.
All day soldiers arrived with dirty clothes to be washed and hopeful glances at Lily’s compact, womanly shape. She met them all in the front yard and tactfully set them straight on the nature of her business.
By nightfall, when Sandra came to call carrying a plate covered with a blue and white checkered napkin, Lily was exhausted but filled with the pride of accomplishment. If every day was like this one, she would have the money she needed in no time at all.
Sandra looked around the cottage and shook her head. Lily had to admit it wasn’t a prepossessing place, since there was only one room. Except for her bed, which was kitty-corner from the kitchen stove, there was only a table, two chairs, and a bookcase for furniture. The light of twin kerosene lanterns dispelled the dense darkness at the windows.
She smiled and poured coffee into two mugs. It was nice to have company, even if she was too tired to think straight.
Sandra shoved the plate at her when she sat down. “Auntie says you’re to eat every bite of this.”
Lily removed the checkered napkin gratefully, finding a hearty dinner of fried chicken, corn kernels, and a boiled potato beneath. She got up to fetch a fork, then smoothed the napkin in her lap and began to consume the first real meal she’d had all day. “Thank you.”
Sandra was tapping one foot as she sat across the table from Lily, still looking around. “I see you’ve had a great many customers,” she remarked, gesturing toward the pile of clean clothes waiting to be pressed.
Lily nodded, swallowing a bite of chicken. “I’am n not sure I can keep up with them all,” she confided.
Sandra glanced uncomfortably at the bed. “You don’t let them come inside, do you? They’re sure to get the wrong idea if you do.”
Lily shook her head quickly and felt her cheeks pinken. In truth, she was not thinking about the ideas her customers might get. She was wondering what it would be like to share that narrow bed with Caleb.
“I did have a visit from a Suds Row woman today,” she said. “Her name was Velvet, though I must say Burlap would have suited her better.”
Sandra leaned forward and waggled one finger. Her lovely pink cotton dress made Lily’s old calico look like a washed-out rag. “You be careful of those women, Lily Chalmers. They’re tough as men, some of them.”
Lily shrugged. “I sensed a certain gentleness in Velvet, despite her appearance and her manner. I don’t think she wants the life she has.”
“If she didn’t want it, why would she do the things she does?” Sandra reasoned in a somewhat testy tone. “You’re naive, Lily.”
Lily lowered her fork. “Not everyone is privileged like you are, Sandra. It takes money to live.”
Sandra sighed. “So you’re still on your bandwagon. You won’t be able to change Suds Row, Lily—or those women. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my short life, it’s that people only change when they want to.”
“I can talk to them—try to be their friend.”
“Their friend!” Sandra hooted as though Lily had made a joke. “Their friend? Lily, you’ll be lucky if they don’t tar-and-feather you and throw you off one of the parapets. You’re a threat to them—you’re taking away the two things they value most: their money and their men!”
Lily felt guilty at the thought of taking the money, but she had no designs on the men. “I won’t be here long.”
Sandra waved one hand at her. “I know, I know. You’re only going to wash clothes until you can hire a Pinkerton agent and build your silly cabin. Sometimes I think you’re addlepated.”
Lily pushed her plate away, though it was still half full, but said nothin
g.
Sandra was examining her fingernails, her lower lip curved in a practiced pout. “I’m leaving Washington Territory. And when I go, Lily Chalmers, you’ll miss me, because whether you believe it or not, I’m your friend.”
“You’re going away?”
Sandra nodded. “Yes,” she said, with a dramatic little sniffle. “It’s breaking my heart to see Caleb besotted with another woman.” She looked pointedly at Lily. “I can’t bear it, so I’m going home to Fox Chapel.”
Lily felt duly chagrined, though she couldn’t rightly imagine Caleb “besotted” with anyone. He was much too practical-minded for that. “I will miss you,” Lily allowed.
Sandra sniffled again, as if to say that was as it should be. “I’ll write,” she offered.
“I’d like that,” Lily answered, hiding a smile behind her coffee cup. She suspected that Sandra wanted to be kept up on Fort Deveraux gossip rather than to nurture a new friendship.
With an earnest sigh Sandra leaned forward in her chair. “Caleb has promised to see me safely back to Tylerville, since he has business there,” she blurted out.
Lily wondered how long she’d been waiting to impart that bit of information. Although it aroused a painful jealousy within her, she didn’t let on. “That’s nice,” she said, getting up to test one of the flatirons heating on the stove.
“Well, I’d better be going,” Sandra told her, covering the plate with the checked napkin again and starting for the door with it. “I do hope there aren’t any privates or corporals lurking outside in the darkness.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “If you’re scared, Sandra, I’ll be happy to walk you back to the Tibbets’ house.”
Sandra gave her an injured look. “Thank you very much for your concern, but I’ll see myself home,” she announced. And then she was gone, taking Mrs. Tibbet’s plate and napkin with her.
Although Lily longed to fall into bed and sleep, she still had at least two more hours of work to do. Resolutely she spread the first shirt on the table and began to iron it.
Lily and the Major Page 13
