by Jody Hedlund
“Maybe with your help,” Stuart offered, “we’ll be able to close up a few more taverns.”
She shook her head, fighting back the overwhelming emotions that threatened to make her start sobbing again.
“And we had twenty-three in attendance at the Red Ribbon Society meeting last night—”
“I can’t stay, Stuart.” She finally met his gaze. She was sure he could read the truth in her eyes, along with her regret at having to hurt him.
His kind eyes clouded.
When she looked over at Connell, at the haggard lines that drew his handsome features tight, she couldn’t keep her heart from leaping at the remembrance of his whispered declaration of love.
He’d told her he loved her.
But had he meant it? Or had he spoken the words out of the desperation of the moment?
Surely he could see the questions in her eyes. The desire for him to declare his love for her again. To promise to take her away from this place and never return.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and didn’t say anything. Even the depths of his eyes were murky and unreadable.
She dropped her chin, but not before she caught sight of the understanding on Stuart’s face. He knew why she couldn’t stay with him. His face acknowledged what her heart was afraid to admit—that she was in love with Connell.
“Lily needs some time away from this Godforsaken town,” Oren muttered. “I’m taking her back home. At first light.”
Home. The word was warm and comforting and wrapped around her like a fresh spring wind.
He was offering her something she’d never had. A home. With him.
She reached for Oren’s hand and squeezed it. “You’re right. I need some time—time to sort out my life.”
He pressed back, his eyes promising her that he’d take care of her and give her everything she needed.
As much as her heart longed for Connell to declare his love for her again, to sweep her off her feet and take her somewhere where they could always be together, she was grateful for Oren and his offer. He was giving her a chance at permanence, at settling down, at belonging.
She didn’t need Connell. Instead, she probably needed some time to get used to the idea of not taking care of Daisy anymore, of letting her go, and finding how she fit into the plans God was piecing together for her life.
Besides, hadn’t she been the one to say that she and Connell were too different, that they should go their separate ways?
She smiled at Oren. “Let’s go home.”
If only her heart didn’t already miss Connell.
Chapter
30
Glorious spring sunshine poured through the large windows of the photo studio and bathed Lily in warmth. She dipped her rag into the sudsy bucket of water and splashed it against the glass.
In the darkroom, down the hallway, she could hear the clinking of vials as Oren prepared the daily emulsion, dissolving nitrate of silver in a bromised gelatine. He’d taught her how to spread the mixture over the plates that would eventually go into the camera.
She didn’t enjoy the process of preparing the plates as much as she did the actual picture taking, which Oren had started teaching her too.
She rubbed at the window, making it sparkle, the vinegar in the cleaning solution tickling her nose. The sunshine would make for a good day in the studio, providing the necessary lighting. Thankfully, their appointment book was full.
In the early morning, the traffic on Washington Avenue outside the shop was still slow. With the recent spring thaw, the streets were nothing but giant mud puddles. By midday, they would swarm with all the shanty boys who’d left the camps during the river drives and had come to spend their hard-earned cash in the taverns and brothels of Bay City.
She tried not to think that Daisy was somewhere in the middle of all the debauchery.
It was easier to pretend she’d gone somewhere new, somewhere to make a decent life for herself.
With a sigh, Lily paused her robust efforts of cleaning the window. She’d tried hard over the past month to accept that Daisy was gone and hadn’t wanted to be with her, but the rejection still stung.
She hadn’t been able to understand why Daisy had run away again. She wasn’t sure that she ever would.
But she’d honored Daisy’s wishes and hadn’t gone looking for her. Although that hadn’t stopped her from wanting to march down to Hell’s Half Mile and search until she found her. And it didn’t stop her from asking Mrs. McCormick if she’d heard from or seen Daisy every time the dear woman visited the studio.
But the answer was always the same: She hadn’t seen Daisy anywhere.
Her sister had disappeared. And apparently not even Tierney knew where she’d gone.
And, of course, Mrs. McCormick always had news of Connell. She claimed he had approached his father with plans for reform within the company and had begun implementing some of the changes, even though Mr. McCormick had been opposed. It was clear Mrs. McCormick was proud of Connell.
Truth be told, Lily was too.
He hadn’t walked away from the problems like she’d wanted him too. Instead, he’d done something even more courageous. He’d stayed and was fighting to make things better. He was discovering where God wanted to use him.
Lily dropped her rag into the bucket and walked over to the wicker chair in front of the plain gray backdrop they used for most of the portraits.
With a heavy heart, she plopped into the chair, drying her hands on the folds of her skirt.
She rested her elbows on her knees and lowered her face into her hands. She was ashamed to think of how judgmental she’d been, of the accusations she’d leveled at Connell.
If only she could rewind time and take back the things she’d told him.
A painful ache lodged in her throat.
She’d been wrong to suggest that he leave his family business for her.
And now because of her foolishness, she’d lost him.
As much as she’d tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, that she’d make a life for herself without him, she knew losing him would hurt until the day she died.
If only she hadn’t been so proud. She wasn’t as pure and righteous as she’d thought. Except by the grace of God, she too could have fallen into a sinful life like Daisy. Perhaps the first step in battling temptation was humility—recognizing that she wasn’t infallible and needed God’s help.
The bell on the door jingled, and a breath of the cool spring air rushed inside the studio.
Lily pushed herself up from the chair. “I’ll be with you in just a minute.” She quickly turned her head and tucked stray hairs back into the knot she’d only loosely tied.
“I don’t think I can wait another minute.”
At the sound of Connell’s voice, her heart sputtered to a stop. Slowly she pivoted until she faced him.
She almost didn’t recognize him. Gone were the shanty-boy clothes—the plaid mackinaw, the heavy trousers, and the dirty caulk boots. In their place was the apparel of a gentleman—an open frock coat that went down to his knees, revealing an embossed brocade vest, bow tie, and pin-striped trousers.
He took a step away from the door and lifted his hat off his head, revealing his clean-shaven face. He looked more like a banker than a backwoodsman.
Under one arm he carried a box.
But it wasn’t his clothes, or his freshly groomed face, or his parcel that caught her attention. Rather, it was his eyes—the warmth of the pine green—that took her breath away.
“I’ve waited thirty-one days to see you.” He pulled his watch out of the front pocket of his vest and examined it. “That’s exactly 44,640 minutes.”
Her stomach did a flip.
“I’m hoping I gave you long enough to sort out your life.” He hesitated, almost as if he were restraining himself from charging across the room to her, as if he didn’t quite know if she’d welcome him or send him away.
She wanted to tell him he’d given her t
oo long, that she didn’t expect she’d ever have her life sorted out, that maybe she wouldn’t see the pattern God was putting together but she’d trust Him with the bigger design anyway. But the words stuck in her throat.
He took several steps toward her. In the empty studio, his footsteps echoed with determination. “If I didn’t give you long enough, I’m sorry. But I really couldn’t wait another sixty seconds.”
“Are you telling me you’re an impatient man, Connell Mc-Cormick?” Warmth spread through her middle, and she couldn’t contain the teasing smile that tugged at her lips.
“I’m the prince of patience.” He smiled back, his face visibly relaxing. “In fact, I think I deserve to be crowned king for all the restraint I’ve had when it comes to you.”
There was something in the depths of his eyes that made the warmth in her stomach curl like ribbons. She couldn’t help thinking back to the last time she’d kissed him, at the Stockade, when she’d sat on his lap and pressed her lips against his like a hussy.
Of course she’d only been trying to keep them out of trouble. Hadn’t she? Even as she asked herself the question, the truth nudged her. She needed to learn more restraint.
She dropped her gaze, reminded once again of how weak she was.
“I was planning on giving myself more time to . . . to get my own plans squared away.” He tapped the box under his arm. “But then I found this and thought of you.”
“Should I be flattered that a wooden box made you think of me?”
His grin widened. He lowered the box to the floor and kneeled in front of it. “I found something that needs saving. And since you’re the queen of rescues—I figured you might want to take a shot at another rescue.”
“So now I’m the queen of rescues?” She kneeled onto the polished wood floor across the box from him.
“No one can pull off a rescue like you.” The teasing glimmer in his eyes pulled the ribbon in her stomach tighter. “Although I won’t ask you to promise that you’ll refrain from any more middle-of-the-night rescues.”
She smiled.
“Because I think we both know you won’t be able to keep that promise.”
She laughed softly. “Well, if you’re the king of patience and I’m the queen of rescues, I guess that means we’re both royalty.”
“Maybe that means we’re meant to be together.” His voice turned soft, and his gaze captured hers with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat.
What was he saying?
The look in his eyes drew her forward, like a magnetic pull. They were warm and wide and full of longing.
She found herself leaning across the box, closing the distance between them, wanting him, breathless for his kiss.
A muted cry within the box stopped her. Her heart started beating again, faster. “What was that?”
He sat back and pried off the lid.
As he slid it aside, her eyes widened.
There in a bundle of rags sat a dainty white kitten. It peered up at her with gentle blue eyes and gave a tiny mew.
“Oh, Connell.” Lily smiled, speechless at the beauty of the helpless creature.
“I found her this morning in the stables.”
She reached two fingers toward the kitten and ran them over the fluffy fur on its back.
“The stable hand said the mother cat died last week. The other kittens disappeared. This is the only one left, and she won’t make it without some help.”
Lily couldn’t resist a second longer. She scooped up the furry bundle and brought it against her chest. She cupped it in one hand and stroked it with the other.
It gave another soft mew, one that brought tears to Lily’s eyes. “Oh, you sweet thing. Of course I’ll take care of you.”
“I figured if anyone could save her, you could.”
Lily pressed a kiss into the downy fur between its tiny pointed ears. She scratched the crook of its neck and was rewarded with a rusty purr.
It was motherless and homeless and needed someone with a heart big enough to care—someone like her.
She pulled the creature back and looked into its little face, with its wet pink nose, feathery whiskers, and big trusting eyes. “You’re home, little one.” She planted a kiss on its forehead and then cuddled it against her chest again.
Connell smiled.
“Thank you,” she whispered through an aching throat. How had this sweet, loving man known exactly what to bring her? The kind of gift that would mean more to her than anything else?
“If you need something else to save—someone else to save—I have a lifetime project I can give you.” His smile faded, and his eyes darkened.
Her pulse quickened.
“I’m a man with many faults, Lily.” His gaze caught and held hers. “And I don’t know that I’ll ever leave the lumber business—”
She reached out her fingers and touched them against his lips to stop him from saying anything else.
But he took hold of her hand and slid it into his, intertwining his fingers through hers. His palm pressed into hers, and the warm moisture of his touch caressed her.
“I can’t leave—at least not now.”
She nodded. “I understand—”
“But I want you to know,” he continued, “God hit me over the head, and I’m finally realizing how much work needs to be done to make some long overdue changes within the lumber industry. And I’m leading the reform.”
Her heart swelled with pride.
“I’m investigating the efforts of reforestation in some of the camps. I’m putting into place policies that will help pay worker benefits upon disability.”
“That’s what your mother was telling me—”
“I’ve also begun looking at ways we can improve working and living conditions—not just in the camps but among the mills too.” He spoke earnestly, as if his life depended upon how well he could convince her of his merits. “And I’m doing some research into future business opportunities for Bay City, ways the city can survive once the lumber industry pulls out of Michigan.”
If only he would be quiet for a second and let her tell him none of it mattered to her.
“The biggest battle’s been getting my dad to agree. But in places where I’ve begun implementing changes, he’s starting to see some of the payoff. Worker loyalty and output have increased by twenty percent.”
“That’s fantastic—”
“I’m fighting hard, Lily.” He cut her off again. His brow wrinkled. “I might not be there yet, but I’m learning—”
She leaned across the open box and stopped his words the only way she knew how—with a kiss. She touched her lips to his, and his sentence died. Gently, she pressed her fullness into the softness of his, letting the warmth of his breath mingle with hers.
She wanted to increase the contact, to press harder, to taste of him deeper. But with new restraint, she lingered only an instant before pulling away.
“I love you,” she whispered.
His eyes widened.
“I love you for who you are—not what you do or who you’ll become.”
Her face burned with the brazen declaration. The kitten mewed, and she scratched its head and followed with a kiss.
Connell lifted a hand to her cheek. His gaze met hers with wide-eyed marvel. His thumb caressed the edge of her chin and simultaneously brought her face back to his. “I love you too, Lily.”
The words were a whisper against her lips.
His eyes promised her another kiss and a future full of them.
Suddenly he stopped.
“No one lays their pinkie on Lily and lives to tell about it.” Oren stood over Connell and pressed the barrel of his rifle into Connell’s temple. His gray brows dipped into a scowl.
“Oren, it’s just me. Connell.” He didn’t look the least bit frightened. Rather, a spark of merriment danced to life in his eyes.
“I know who you are, and it don’t matter one little lick.”
Connell’s lips twitche
d with a grin. “After all the times you’ve stuck your gun into my head, I’m surprised I’m still alive.”
Lily had to bite back a grin of her own.
“You’re just mighty lucky that I haven’t made you eat lead yet,” Oren mumbled, but his voice lacked conviction.
“Now, Oren.” Lily smiled at the man. “You won’t need to kill him. At least not today.”
She exchanged a glance with Connell, and the light in his eyes told her that he shared the memory of the night they’d met, when Oren had threatened him for the first time. They both knew it wouldn’t be the last. And they loved the old man for it.
“Look what he brought me.” She held up the kitten.
Oren glared down at the animal. “What in high heaven . . . ?”
Lily laughed and stroked it. “I was just thanking Connell for the gift.”
“You can thank him by getting off the floor and kicking his hind end right out the door.” Even though Oren sounded grumpy, his expression was as soft as the kitten’s.
Connell caught Lily’s gaze. “Would it help to know that I’m planning on asking Lily to be my wife?”
Lily sucked in a breath.
The rifle wavered. “It might help.”
Connell grinned.
And a thrill of wonder wafted through Lily. Did Connell really want to marry her?
Oren cleared his throat. “I suppose I can let you live this once.”
Connell reached for her hand. “What do you say, Lily? Will you marry me and let me spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you?”
She glanced at Oren. Beneath his overgrown mustache she could see the beginnings of a smile, the closest to a smile she’d ever seen from him. He nodded at her, and his eyes seemed to reassure her that no matter what, he’d always be there for her.
Lily reached for his hand and squeezed it.
Her heart whispered a prayer of gratefulness. She’d been a homeless orphan her whole life. And now God had brought her to a place where she had more love than she’d ever dreamed possible. Maybe it wasn’t the family she’d planned. But God was giving her a chance at a family of her own the way He’d planned.
