“Lily Morton,” he chirped. “Didn’t expect to see such a pretty sight this mornin’.”
“Hello, Dan,” she greeted with reserve. She stood straight, held the basket in front of her as a poor shield.
“Got anything good in there for me?” He nodded at the basket, but his eyes glued to her blouse.
Her fingers gripped the woven handle tighter. Dan was always making advances, not in a way that flattered but in a way that made you feel like dirty hands were playing with your hair. He even did it in front of Frank, who would just laugh. But there was an anger laced to Dan’s flirtations, a sharpness to his eye that didn’t make a woman laugh, made her want to run.
“Just dropping off soup to Mrs. Sullivan.” Her voice unsteadied and she cursed herself. Dan could smell insecurity a mile away and moved closer. The quiet road suddenly seemed deserted for miles in every direction. She was halfway between home and the Muellers’. If she had to run, she wasn’t sure which way to go.
Lily brought forth her strongest posture and strained not to flinch from his wandering eyes. “What are you doing here? A bit out of your territory, aren’t you?”
“Yep.” He stuck out his bottom lip and squinted at the sun. “Makin’ the rounds, you could say.”
His words slurred, didn’t sound right, as if he spoke from an injured throat. He stepped closer and brushed the hair off her shoulder, the sensation raising the nerves along her neck. Her legs tightened for flight.
“Miss Lily,” he announced, “you’re looking at Private Dan Simpson.” The smell of sour whiskey trailed his breath and she scowled.
His eyes turned black. “I just got done tellin’ you I signed up an’ you’re giving me a look like that?”
She had to watch herself now. She had to think. She swallowed. “You just surprised me is all.”
The blackness stayed, but he chuckled, turned around in a stumbling circle and raised his hat in the air. “I’m a soldier, Lily! Gonna teach those Huns what an American looks like.” He was before her again, breathing on her again. “Gonna make sure my face is the last thing they see before I shove the bayonet through their gut.” He thrust out a wobbly arm in an exaggerated sword parry.
As much as she tried not to, as much as she knew she needed to face him, she turned her face away, and her lips curled. He grabbed her chin hard. “A man gets tired of being ignored, Lily. You hear me?” he shouted.
She glared hard at him, clenched her teeth, wouldn’t turn away again.
“You’re always disrespecting me an’ I’m done with it! Teasin’ me like you do, walking by me acting like you don’t want me, makin’ me think I got to beg for it!”
He grabbed the basket from her hand and threw it into the brush, grabbed her arms fiercely. “But you listen to me, Miss Lily. I’m a soldier now. Won’t have you teasin’ your prize at me. Gonna give it to me or I’m takin’ it!”
Thought stopped. A cry left her lips as she struggled to get out of his grip.
“There a problem?” Andrew’s voice approached from the road and she nearly crumpled with relief.
Dan loosened his hold on her arms but did not let go. “Who are you?”
Andrew walked up to them, his figure tall and strong and unwavering. He didn’t remove his eyes from the man. “Take your hands off her.”
Dan dropped his clutches and put his palms up in the air, his body swaying slightly. “Yes, sir,” he said sarcastically.
Andrew turned to her, his eyes grave and stern. “You all right, Lily?”
She nodded, crossed her arms across her chest and rubbed the bruised biceps. He stepped in front of her, blocked her body from Dan’s view. “I expect you’ll be on your way now.” It was not a question.
Recognition seemed to settle slowly in the man’s mind. “You’re one of ’em Kisers, ain’t you?” He laughed as if at a good joke. “Heard about you.”
Lily heard the chiding tone in Dan’s voice and shuddered. She knew his reputation for brawling. “Come on, Andrew,” she whispered, and tugged on his hand. “Let’s go.”
But he stood rigid, didn’t even seem to know she was there.
“Oh, now I see how it is!” Dan snorted. “Lily taking pity on the cripple. Can’t handle a real man, eh, girl? Afraid what I got in the pants be too much for you?”
Andrew landed a right hook square against the man’s jaw and sent him sprawling into the rocks. Lily covered her mouth in shock. “Get out of here, Lily,” he ordered. But she was too stunned to move.
Dan swiveled in the dirt to his belly and slowly rose to his knees, holding his jaw in his palm. “Why, you son of a—” He lunged at Andrew, throwing his full weight upon him and sending them both in the dirt. Andrew kneed him in the side, put him on his back, but the man came at him with two quick jabs to the face, leaving him blind.
Both men rose from the ground and Dan charged him like a bull, hitting him twice in the ribs and sending Andrew to his knees, knocking the wind from his lungs. Dan pulled back a fist, but Andrew shot a kick to the man’s knee and Dan buckled to the ground. Andrew raised a fist but didn’t need to deliver the blow. For Lily smashed a rock to Dan’s skull and left him reeling in the dirt, clutching his blood-covered head.
Andrew stooped over Dan’s writhing body, his chest wheezing for air. “Hold still,” Andrew told him. Dan readied for another blow and crimped into his stomach.
“I’m not going to hit you,” Andrew huffed irritably. He put a handkerchief to the man’s cut and held it there, looked at the gash that bled badly. “You’re going to need stitches. Come back to the house and we’ll get it closed up.” Andrew reached a hand out to the man. “Keep you from bleeding to death.”
Dan smacked the hand away. He scrambled to his feet, holding the handkerchief loosely to his head. “Rather bleed to death than let a dirty Kiser touch me!”
He crawled upon the horse, the animal nervous with the smell of blood. “Frank’s going to hear about this, Lily. You just wait.” He pointed a shaking finger at Andrew. “Don’t go hitting a soldier, cripple! They’ll hang you by the neck for this. You wait!”
The horse took off at an uneven gait, the man’s slouched figure stirring the animal to the left. Andrew turned to Lily. “You okay?”
She ignored the question, reached a hand to his face. “You’re bleeding.”
With the words, the pain awakened to the surface. His ribs hurt with each inhale and his face felt like it was growing and expanding. His left eye started to close and he tasted blood in his mouth.
“I must look pretty handsome.” He tried to smile, but his swollen lip cracked.
She half-laughed and half-cried. “Come on, let’s get you some ice.”
Back at the house, Lily had him sit at the table while she smashed shavings from the icebox, put them in a cloth and held it to his eye. Claire came in and screamed.
“Hush, Claire!” Lily scolded. She knew Claire couldn’t stand the sight of blood, but she had no patience left. “He’s not hurt bad. Just go if you can’t look at it.”
Claire hurried out with her hand over her eyes.
“She gets on my last nerve sometimes,” Lily murmured as she cleaned the cut at Andrew’s mouth. As she pressed, she softened guiltily. “Not her fault, I guess. Little things set her off, you know? I shouldn’t lose my patience with her like that.”
“You’re good to her.”
She shrugged, checked the cut over his eye. She was grateful he had been there and she didn’t want to remember their last argument. Here he was perfect and for a few minutes she let the memory of what he had done in Pittsburgh fade away.
“Your ribs all right?” she asked. “He hit you pretty hard.”
“Not broken.” He touched his side gingerly, grimaced. “Least I don’t think.”
Lily started to giggle, tried to keep her lips closed. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re laughing at me?” he chided. “Here I am bruised and bleeding and you’re laughing at me?”
“I
’m so sorry. Oh, God.” She held her stomach. “I’m not laughing at you, I swear. Just remembering that look on Dan’s face when you hit him.” She erupted in titters again. “Never saw anyone look more surprised in my whole life. Thought his eyes were going to pop right out of their sockets.”
He started to laugh, moaned with the jostling of his ribs. “Stop that. Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”
She wiped her eyes and composed herself. “Where you learn to hit like that, anyway?”
“Back at the colliery. A boy learns to fight the same time he learns how to walk.” Then, in a sudden shift, he took the ice from her hand, put it on the floor, his expression changing. “Of course,” he said tersely, “I know how you feel about men standing up for themselves. But guess this is different, isn’t it? Because it has to do with you.”
She pulled back with the tone. “What does that mean?”
“Know it was a long winter, but I doubt you forgot our last conversation. Said you never wanted to see me again, remember? Because I defended myself.”
“Defended yourself?” she questioned, aghast. “Against what?”
He cocked his head. “At the game, Lily. You heard what those men were slinging at us and you stormed out when we put a stop to it. Nice to know whose side you’re on.”
Her mouth dropped and her eyes beaded angrily. “You think that’s why I was mad at you?” Her eyebrows drew together like magnets. “You don’t think being with a prostitute had anything to do with it?” she accused hotly.
The word hung in the air and drifted, left him momentarily speechless. “A prostitute? H-h-how did—? Wh-h-ho—” he stuttered.
The hurt grabbed again, the sting renewed and as fresh as that day at the baseball field. She gathered up her skirt and turned to stand. “Just go.”
“Wait.” He clutched her arm. “Lily, wait.” She tugged at her limb, but he held tight. “I was never with a prostitute.”
“Don’t lie to me, Andrew! Fritz told me how you were with her.”
“Fritz.” Andrew rubbed his eyes. “Fritz didn’t know what he was saying. I did see one of those . . . ladies, but—”
Lily jerked from his hold and he stood quickly, pressing his hand against his aching rib. “But not like that. I swear, Lily. Just listen to me for a second. Okay? Just let me explain.”
Reluctant, she sat back down, her head hanging low.
“My uncle brought me to Pittsburgh, brought me to that . . . woman.” He tried to make sense of the words. “I had no idea until we got there. I swear. But Lily, I didn’t do anything with her. Didn’t lay a hand on her, I swear.”
She sneered and crossed her arms.
“Listen, Lily. You’ve got to believe me. I’d never be with a woman like that. Never on my life. And I told her so.”
“But Fritz said—”
“Fritz didn’t understand. Please believe me, Lily.” He took her hand gently and stared into her eyes. “I swear on the life of my father, I was never with that woman.”
Her eyes lifted and scanned his face, tried to read the depth of the blue eyes for truth. His face melted with remorse and begged for understanding, his gentle fingers gripping her limp hand. “That’s not how I want to be with a woman, Lily. Not like that. Not ever like that.” His lips moved, then stopped. “There’s only one woman I want to share a kiss with,” he whispered. “Only one woman I want to be with in that way.”
She softened. For the first time since that autumn day, she relaxed from her toes to her forehead. “Really?”
“Really.”
The hope entered and brought its own brand of terror. The relief blinded and she needed to see, couldn’t bear to be a fool. But Lily drifted. This man flowed into her marrow and her blood and burned along their paths.
Andrew wrapped his arm around her and she buried her face into his warm neck, the smell of his skin disintegrating any restraint. “I’m so sorry, Lily.” He sighed into her hair, his breath seeping into her pores. “No wonder you hated me.”
He kissed her forehead, pulled back to look at her face. “Please talk to me, Lily,” he pleaded. “Tell me you believe me.”
She fell into the contours of his figure. The strong, straight nose; the lean neck; the lips that belonged upon her own; the wide shoulders that had blocked Dan Simpson. Lily nodded. “I believe you.” The sound of her voice scared her, the weakness of it, the pure surrender to the man who had shattered her heart without intent. A tear dropped, bloated and singular, from the corner of her eye. “I’m scared,” she breathed.
Andrew’s lips parted, his face sanguine and filled with compassion. “I’m not going to hurt you, Lily.” He met her green eyes and held them as with arms. “Not ever.”
She rolled into his neck again and he held her just as he had on the first day they had met. He held her without movement, without disruption, let her emotions settle and translate as they needed, for as long as they needed.
He smiled into her hair. “I can’t believe this whole winter I could have been snuggling with you next to the fire instead of you sitting in your house cursing me. I’m such an idiot.”
She grinned against the skin, tilted her chin to look up at him. He lowered his mouth to hers then, the soft lips grazing, the tips of their tongues touching lightly. He pulled her closer, kissed her top lip and then the bottom, before taking them both languidly. His hand etched the outline of her jaw, traced the curve of her ear, slid to her neck and cradled her head.
Lily pulled back in distress. “Your lip.” Gingerly, she touched his swollen face. “It must hurt.”
But he only grinned and bent to kiss her again.
CHAPTER 35
Lily grew feathers and stretched in the tepid wind. Freedom. A world in bloom wiped away the grime of winter and painted the earth in living color. She let down her hair, rich in golden curls from the conditioned months of French braids. She wore no sweater and her skin exhaled from the pores. Before she had left the house, she had opened every window and every door to banish the ghosts and invite the spring herald. And with the shoots of renewal, her heart opened, called out a name—a face and body—that left her warm and aching.
Lily paced in front of the doughy, black Kiser lane debating the safety of heading down the muddy slope. One wrong step and she’d tumble and roll and plop into the running water below.
Above the sound of the rushing creek, Andrew cupped his hand and hollered, “Stay there! I’m coming up for you.”
His gallant order thrilled her, brought a tingle of pride to have him coming to her aid. She smiled widely, gave thanks to the blue swollen sky and the full sun and the tall, muscular body working its way to meet her.
Andrew agilely picked his way over the mud to target uncovered stones and hardened dirt mounds. A difficult task and more than once he sank to his calves before prying loose again. When he reached the raging creek, he found the narrowest stretch and leaped. Here the sludge lessened and the pine needles acted as stitching across the ground, like seed bags buried under earth to keep the weeds from coming up. At last, he climbed the ridge to Lily’s side, bent and held his side as he caught his breath. The smile upon his lips was the most handsome sight she had ever seen.
With lungs full, Andrew rose to his full height. Without embarrassment, he stared intensely into her eyes. The heat of his thoughts brought her fingers to her throat. Her eyes drifted to the open collar of his shirt, the skin already tanning at the neck. Her focus slid to his chest and then to his waist and then she erupted in giggles.
Andrew raised one eyebrow as if she had gone mad. But she couldn’t speak and shook with laughter, her face red.
“What?” he asked.
She couldn’t form the words through her torrent and just pointed to his clothing. He was covered in mud from ankle to chest.
“Think that’s funny, do you?” he accused slyly, his blue eyes twinkling.
She nodded mutely, snorted with laughter.
“And here I am trudging through the m
ud to give you a hand,” he said with feigned indignation. “Some friend.”
Tears streamed down her face.
“Well.” He stepped toward her. “Owe me at least a hug for hurting my feelings.”
“No!” Lily screeched, backed away. “Keep your muddy body away from me.”
Andrew pounced and grabbed her, squeezed her tight against his dirt-stained clothes.
“Ugh, Andrew!” She pushed him in the chest and wiped the mud from her cheek, her smiling lips splattered. “Look at me! I’m filthy.”
“Teach you to laugh at a gentleman, young lady.”
“Some gentleman,” Lily scoffed, her expression dancing with mirth. “Here I am trying to look pretty for you and I look like I just climbed out the pigpen.”
Andrew relented. “Here,” he said as he pulled out a handkerchief from his back pocket. He gently wiped the muck on her cheeks and tried to keep his face serious.
“What?”
“Just smearing a little.”
“Er!” She grabbed the handkerchief and wiped her own face. “Better?”
“Not really,” he teased.
She tossed the handkerchief at his chest. “Well, at least walk me down to the house.” Lily stuck out her elbow for him to link. “We can look like we crawled out of the pigpen together.”
With arms held tight, their hips and thighs brushed as they walked across the sloped front yard. Andrew’s eyes flickered to her dress, at the pearl-colored buttons dotting the front. They glanced at each other often with shy smiles and lowered lids and between them the energy of the spring, of new growth and warmth, of young vibrancy and attraction, made the world glimmer in shimmering waves.
As they strolled, arm in arm, the sun slowly dried the mud on their clothes. Soon the dirt flaked off and drifted into the gentle wind, the unsheathing making their bodies lighter, cleaner and more lithe. Andrew steered her to the narrow opening in the creek and unhooked his arm. He jumped across and held out his hand for her to follow.
Lily’s arm wasn’t nearly as long and so she reached across and barely touched his fingertips. “Don’t let me fall, Andrew,” she begged.
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