11th Hour Rose (Langston Brothers Series)

by Melissa Lynne Blue

  “Locked you in the jailhouse, yes, I know.” Davy sighed impatiently, closing the distance between them once and for all. He settled broad hands upon her hips and Lilly lacked the strength to pull away. “Lilly, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ll have far more success keeping you out of trouble working with you than against you.”

  “Keep me out of trouble? Davy, that—”

  “Let me finish,” he ordered, cutting her off with an infectious grin. He leaned in to brush his lips to her forehead then dropped his lips seductively to her ear. A sensual shiver rushed through her. Slowly he slid to a knee. Gazing up at her he took both her hands in his. “I love everything about you,” his deep voice rumbled musically. “I love the way you infuriate me, and the way you always seem to have your nose everywhere it doesn’t belong.”

  She opened her mouth to protest but snapped it back shut again.

  “I love that you are always two steps ahead of me, and I love the way you keep me on my toes. You, as my wife, is all I need to fill a lifetime.” His beautiful blue eyes roamed over hers with total abandon. She’d never seen him this way before. So open and earnest. “I am going to ask this question one last time,” he drawled. “Lillian Hudson, will you do me the honor of being my bride?”

  Truly touched Lilly’s head spun as his words swam round and round in her mind. She was fairly convinced the earth had switched places with the moon. Magic lived in this moment and the world quite simply fell away. “I don’t know. I want to say, yes, but...”

  “Then say, yes. Lilly, I am yours.”

  All her rational arguments seemed so far out of grasp it took every ounce of self-control not to cry yes at the top of her lungs and hurl herself into his arms. “Davy, I…” She shook her head, grasping for her wits. “I don’t know. We need to discuss this.”

  Davy groaned. He stood abruptly, slinging his arms around her waist, lifting her clear off the floor. “You torment me.”

  She squirmed against the intoxicating warmth of his arms, resisting the urge to melt right into him. “Put me down,” she whispered urgently.

  “As you wish,” he replied, a mischievous smirk rolling across his artful lips. He carried her the short distance to the bed and laid her gently upon the coverlet, following her body down. The old frame creaked in friendly protest, and the mattress caved beneath their combined weight with eager invitation.

  The broad warmth of his sturdy chest settled over her, and in light of her recent ordeal, Lilly welcomed the sheltering weight. Despite herself she relaxed beneath him, content to simply disappear in his embrace. Davy hardly had a simple cuddle in mind, however, and tilted her chin to capture her lips. Without any urging, Lilly parted her lips, sliding her tongue up to meet his, tasting the whiskey lingering on his mouth. The sweet friction quickly gained heat and turned to fire.

  He dragged his lips down the soft flesh of her throat. “You are so beautiful.”

  The husky murmur thrilled Lilly. She liquefied beneath him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and tipping her neck back to grant him better access. His big hands roamed greedily over her curves while the musk of his shaving soap inundated her senses, driving her to new sensual heights. She shifted restlessly against his hard body, silently asking for more. He responded instantly, taking her lips in a torrid exchange. Shifting up over her, his fingers slid to the neckline of her nightdress where a simple string held the bodice closed. Momentarily he toyed with the end of the string before pulling the bow apart, releasing the tie. Without hesitation he pealed back the aged cloth, closing a warm palm over her naked breast.

  Lilly gasped with pleasure, arching into his touch. He traced the dusky area around her taut nipple with his thumb before moving down to lightly pull the tip into his mouth. Lilly drew a shuddering breath, burying her hands in the thick bed of his hair. More, she silently begged, please more. Her wanton body ached for his touch.

  As though reading her mind his roughed palm dropped to her thigh slipping beneath the hem of her nightdress. His fingers inched upward, shooting carnal tremors over her skin. His palm burned into her flesh as it slid ever higher on her leg until his thumb grazed lightly over her most secret place.

  Lilly bucked beneath him, the intimate touch reinstating a bit of reality. “Davy, please, wait. Th-this is too fast.”

  Physically deflated, he remained on top of her for a second before rolling to the side.

  Lilly sat quickly, holding the edges of her nightdress closed, pulse racing. “Forgive me,” she said hastily. “I Just… I need time to consider all this.”

  Davy lay on his back, eyes closed, brow creased.

  Her mind began to race. “And what of you?”

  “What about me?” He opened his eyes, and sat.

  “You’re planning to move west.”

  His muscular thigh pressing the length of hers, and he shrugged as though the solution was obvious. “Come with me.”

  Lilly chewed her lip uneasily, edging away from him. “Leave Charleston? My father? I don’t know that I could. I’ve lived here my entire life.”

  Davy nodded slowly. “You think on it then. I’ll wait.” He reached out, trailing a finger along the angle of her jaw. He leaned in and kissed her ever so gently. “Goodbye, Lilly.” He stood, scooping his hat from the floor, and crossed to the window.

  “Davy, no!” She leapt from the bed. “You’ll break your neck going down that tree. Use the front door.”

  He shook his head. “Far less romantic, love. Besides, the guards outside will notice if I walk out the front door.” He swung a leg out the window. “Oh,” he said as an afterthought. “This is for you.” He dug into his pocket, withdrawing a small leather bound book. “It’s a book of sonnets.” He pressed the small volume into her hand. “Seeing as you like Shakespeare I thought you might enjoy it.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re giving me another present?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing fancy, but I saw it the other day and thought of you.” Without another word he slid through the window and into the tree.

  Lilly darted forward a step, watching as he swung down through the branches. She lost sight of him against the large tree trunk and then glimpsed him through the branches again hopping over the fence. He adjusted his hat and brushed off the front of his shirt and trousers.

  “You there,” he barked, sauntering beneath the canopy toward one of the uniformed soldiers posted outside her home as a deterrent. “You call this a secure perimeter?”

  Obviously confused, the soldier shuffled, glancing toward Davy and then back in the opposite direction.

  “Look alive, Private!” Davy adopted his stern military persona. “Don’t you realize someone could climb that there tree and sneak into Miss Hudson’s home through a window?”

  Lilly pursed her lips in amusement.

  “I expect an armed guard to be in place right here every minute.”

  The soldier snapped to attention. “Uh, yes, sir, Marshal Langston.” He quickly moved to take up position before the old tree.

  Fingering the leather volume he’d given her, Lilly leaned against the window frame and smiled, watching Davy—her knight in shining armor—amble off into the night.

  11th Hour Rose

  Thirteen

  Davy arrived home and went straight to bed. Mentally and physically exhausted he didn’t even bother lighting a lamp. After the liberal amount of whiskey he’d imbibed with Jacob, he hoped to fall straight to sleep. Normally he didn’t indulge before bed. Strong spirits tended to give him nightmares. At this point, however, he doubted any nightmare could hold a candle to the current events of his life.

  He flopped backward onto his bed, eyes already closed. At least things with Lilly were looking up. They’d parted tonight on good terms. Dare he hope lovers terms. As he drifted deeper into the haze of drowsiness a vision of he and Lilly snuggled together in a rustic cabin on the prairie slipped into his mind and seeded. He smiled. A pleasant notion indeed.

  * * *

/>   The vibrant red petals of the rose contrasted vividly with the lifeless gray tombstone. Davy knelt in the leaf littered grass before the dual grave marker, setting a bouquet before the stone.

  Laura M. Langston

  1838-1860

  Loving wife and daughter.

  Cullen T. Langston

  1860

  Forever in God’s Keeping.

  Familiar anguish welled in his breast as he gazed at the letters chiseled in the stone. He glanced away, but rather than see the rest of the cemetery he found himself sitting once more beside Laura’s deathbed, holding her still, chilled hand.

  He stared at his unmoving wife, disbelieving and hollow. She lay against the pillows, dark hair spilling over the white linen and down her shoulders, lying in stark relief against the pallor of her skin. No pink flushed her face, and her lips—usually so vivid and red—held a blue hue. The servants had cleaned her up, but all the same Davy could not banish the sight of all that blood from his mind. This day should have been the happiest of his life and yet despair ruled the day.

  Outside the bedroom door the hysterical screams of his mother-in-law, Vivian, wrenched his emotions. “He did this to her!” Vivian shrieked. “If not for David my little girl would still be here.”

  The bitter words rang true. Laura’s health had been fragile, and Davy had known it. Guilt took powerful hold of him. Guilt for her death… guilt for all the months he’d spent away… guilt that their baby had never taken a single breath…

  “I’m sorry,” Davy murmured, his throat clogged with emotion. He turned away from the bed and once again found himself kneeling before the tombstone.

  It seemed a lifetime had passed since he’d lost her. So much had occurred in her absence—war… invasion… He’d given up the very career that had kept them apart to fight for a cause her family strongly opposed. He oft wondered if she would have approved of his decisions. Would their marriage have survived the War of Northern Aggression?

  Davy looked down and discovered he could see past the earth into Laura and Cullen’s coffin, except that it was not Laura’s face staring back at him at all, but Lilly Hudson’s.

  He fell backward into the grass, desperate to escape the horror.

  Just behind the gravestone Laura and Lilly hovered as ghostly apparitions side by side glaring at him with condemnation. “You did this, Davy,” they said in unison. “You did this.”

  Davy bolted from his bed drenched in a cold sweat. He dragged several ragged breaths into his lungs, grasping for his bearings.

  “It was a dream,” he muttered aloud, sagging in relief. “Only a dream.” And yet so much ugly truth lived in that nightmare. The reality that he’d inadvertently killed his wife… it was a fact he’d never fully divested to Lilly—and what if Lilly befell the same fate?

  Thoroughly shaken, Davy looked to the darkened window. No sense in attempting any further sleep. He rose from the mattress. He’d go to the office and review Marcus Brady’s files.

  He lit a lamp and shuddered, unable to banish the miserable nightmare from his bones. He dressed quickly, wanting to escape the bedroom as quickly as possible.

  Perhaps Lilly was right and he’d been too hasty proposing marriage. Gone was the sweet illusion of her curled against him in a secluded cabin in the west. He could never protect her there. Just last week he’d read of an Indian raid on one of the railroad towns. If any harm came to her…

  Davy shook his head, jamming his hat on his head and grabbing his sidearm before leaving the house. He had some serious decisions to make.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon Davy grimly ascended the wooden steps of the Hudson’s house. He rapped formally on the door and George answered within moments.

  “Good afternoon, Sherriff.” Davy nodded curtly, removing his hat. “Is Lilly at home? I was hoping to speak with her for a minute.”

  “Certainly.” George smiled in his ever kind way and rocked back a step admitting him entrance to the charming little cottage. “No flowers today.”

  “Oh, uh, no.” Davy shifted uncomfortably, more than a little guilty after his midnight escapade to her bedroom.

  “Lilly,” George called. “Marshal Langston is here to see you.”

  “I’ll be right down,” her lilting voice drifted down the stairs. A moment later she appeared on the stairs. She wore a high-necked sable hued dress with long sleeves to disguise the bruises from her attack, and the length of her hair was tied back with a simple ribbon. Her brilliant smiling face fixed on him and he was a little boy again. His pulse quickened, the blood rushed hot in his veins, and she just looked so damn happy.

  Davy gulped.

  Dear Lord forgive him for what he was about to do.

  * * *

  Thrilled that Davy had come to call, Lilly hurried down the stairs. She couldn’t wait to give him her answer. After he’d left last night she’d read Daniel’s letter one more time and come to the conclusion that life was too short to remain undecided. She loved David, he loved her, and the rest would fall into place with time and hard work. Perhaps there would be opportunity for a woman with a good legal mind in the west.

  David regarded her seriously, the stern furrow present in his brow. “Would you like to step outside for a moment?”

  “Yes.” She grinned, and quickly sashayed forward, slipping a hand through his arm. He stiffened beneath her touch, and Lilly was a little disconcerted when he failed to return her welcoming smile.

  He led her off the porch and into the yard to the swing beneath her flower trellis. She perched on the wooden bench, and he sat heavily beside her, rocking the swing back with his long legs. He rested his hat on one knee, and raked a hand through his golden hair.

  “Lilly, I’ve been thinking on what you said,” he began. “You were right to refuse me. I’m moving west. That is no place for you. I can’t keep you safe there.”

  Lilly’s spine stiffened. “But, Davy—”

  He held up a silencing hand. “No, buts. Forgive me if I’ve pressured you unduly…” he hesitated, washing a broad palm over his face. “Jesus, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  Lilly’s heart stumbled and threatened to shatter. “You said you loved me.” The swing rocked back and then forward again, her arm pressed against the corded muscle of his arm.

  He sighed and looked her directly in the eye. His handsome face appeared pale and haggard with dark circles surrounding his eyes. A glimmer of panic lived within the blue depths. “I truly care for your welfare, Lilly, but it’s best if we’re not together in that way. You were right.”

  You were right. Three words she’d never expected to hear from his lips. She certainly never imagined they’d ferry so much despair. Lilly squared her shoulders, refusing to give in to the desolation welling up inside her, swallowing the joy she’d secured just moments before. She’d survived worse than David Langston’s rejection.

  For a moment each of them sat unmoving. Lilly did not know what to do. Should she fight? Argue? Or was her initial instinct about his hasty proposal correct?

  Finally he stood, setting his hat low on his brow. “I’ll see you around, Lilly.”

  * * *

  For two days Lilly refused to cry over the failed almost engagement with David. She’d survived invasions, bombings, military occupation, the death of her first love, and would never be broken by a man. Never. Even so, her firm resolve hardly kept the sadness and hurt at bay. She holed up in her room, refusing every visitor that came to call—even Lavinia—but when her father announced the doctor had arrived for her follow up visit she was given no choice but to acquiesce and see him.

  “Dr. Langston, could I ask you a personal question?” Lilly inquired after he’d given her a clean bill of health.

  “About my brother?” he asked astutely.

  She blushed and nodded.

  “You can ask. I can’t promise a suitable answer.” Craig Langston sat on the narrow desk chair across from her.

  Lilly folded
her hands in front of her, wondering how best to voice her questions. “Has Davy always blamed himself for his wife’s death?”

  Craig blew out his breath in a whoosh, slouching down in the chair. In an instant he transformed from the professional well-adjusted physician she was familiar with to a haunted young man.

  “No more than I’ve blamed myself.” Craig shook his head, meeting her gaze with sad eyes. “Laura’s death wrecked him. He hasn’t been the same since that day.”

  “What happened?” Lilly asked quietly. “I only ask because I care and I want to help him.”

  Craig sighed, and for a moment Lilly feared he would not relate the facts of Davy’s past to her. “Laura was beautiful. Good hearted and kind. In all the years I knew her I never had a single occasion to see her raise her voice. Davy adored her and she him, but her health failed shortly after they married and Laura never fully recovered.” He paused for a moment shifting in his chair. “I’m not certain Davy fully understood her weakened condition because he was gone so frequently with his army career. She put on her best face when he was home. When Laura became pregnant we all worried, but she managed well enough.” Craig stopped, his gaze drifting off and growing distant. “There were complications with the birth. Laura’s midwife called for me but too late. I tried,” he murmured. “I tried for both of them. It wasn’t enough. There must have been something more I could have done.”

  “No,” Lilly said adamantly. “You did everything. You were put in a terrible position. It is only natural you’d feel a heightened sense of responsibility for your own family.”

  Craig smiled. “You sound like my wife. She tells me the same thing.”

  Lilly smiled in return. “Your wife is a very smart lady.”

  “That she is.”

  They lapsed into an amiable silence. Lilly processed what she’d learned, gaining new understanding of David’s overprotective nature and his compelling need to keep everyone safe.

  “Could I ask you a personal question now?”

  Lilly snapped her attention back to the doctor. “I suppose it’s only fair.”