MB01 - Unending Devotion (29 page)

The dimness of the room, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the faint scent of lavender soap on her skin—his senses reeled with the enticement of being intimate with her.

Flee from temptation.
His mother’s teaching sounded in his head, almost as if she were in the room instructing him, as she had so many times when he’d been a young boy. She’d trained him to trust God’s guidelines above his own desires.
Do not lust in your heart after her beauty. Instead may you rejoice in the wife of your youth.

If he had any hope of resisting the temptation to drink of her beauty, he had to stop putting himself in situations where they were alone.

God help me.
He took a step away from her. He cared about her too much to use her for his own momentary pleasure. And he’d long ago vowed he’d keep the pleasures of the marriage bed within the marriage bedroom.

Her eyes widened, and the desire within them chased after him.

Stifling a groan, he turned away from her and crossed the room. He positioned himself behind the love seat, putting a barrier between them.

“I can’t seem to control myself when I’m alone with you.” His voice was hoarse.

Her lips curved into a shy smile. “I think you’re doing a mighty fine job.”

“And it’s past time for me to be on my way.”

The longing deep within his soul threatened to drag him back around the love seat toward her. But he grabbed on to the carved oak scallop to anchor himself. He wouldn’t take advantage of any woman, especially not a special woman like Lily. She deserved so much more than a quick tryst in a deserted room. She deserved a man who would do the right thing and marry her.

Marry her?

What if he were to marry her? Today. At that very moment. His mouth went dry at the thought of making her his wife and taking her to bed that very night.

Tierney’s words echoed through him.
“Guess you’re gonna marry that woman.”

What was stopping him? He cared about her more than he’d ever cared about any other woman. He’d never been in love before, but he suspected that what he felt for Lily came pretty close.

“Do you really have to go?” she asked, almost as if she’d read his mind.

“So, does this mean you can’t live without me?” he teased softly, holding his breath in anticipation of her answer.

A flush stole over her cheeks, and she twisted one of the ringlets by her ear. “I admit, it’s hard to imagine my life without you a part of it.”

Her confession sent a shiver of delight through him. “Since we’re being honest, then I admit I don’t want to live without you either.”

He could send the stable hand for the preacher. They could have a wedding in the parlor. And then tomorrow he could head back to Harrison.

“What if you were to stay here?” Her voice was low.

His heart rammed into his ribs. If he married her and stayed an extra day, it wouldn’t make much difference when he got back to Harrison, would it?

Did he dare to do something so impulsive? So uncharacteristic?

“I might be able to squeeze in an extra day,” he said.

“Just a day?”

Maybe he could take her back to Harrison with him.

As soon as the thought entered his mind, he tossed it out. She’d be in too much danger there—at least until he could pacify Carr. And he doubted she’d want to leave Daisy so soon after being reunited. No, she’d be better off staying with Mam. And maybe after the spring river drive, he could ride back home to visit her.

She slid around one of the chairs and approached the front of the love seat. She narrowed her eyes like a cat about to pounce on a mouse.

Suddenly he couldn’t see anything but the rounded curves that the elegant gown outlined. If he was going to marry her today, surely he could let himself feast upon the sight of her just a little.

“I don’t want you to go back to Harrison,” she said. “Ever.”

“You know I have to go back.” His focus dipped to her waist, and he pictured his hands spanning the circumference.

“Just to rescue Frankie,” she said. “Then you could bring her here and never go back.”

Maybe he could use the money Dad had given him to buy Frankie’s rescue. “I’ll do my best to get Frankie out. But I can’t stay here.”

“You could if you found some other way to earn a living.”

His gaze snapped up to hers. “I can’t do that, Lily.”

“Why not?” She kneeled on the edge of the love seat. “You’re a talented man. You could do anything you wanted.”

“I already told you that lumbering is all I’ve ever known.”

“But after everything that’s happened lately, I thought you were beginning to see the problems and you’d be ready to leave them behind.”

He scrambled to make sense of what she was saying. “Yes, I can admit there are some aspects to the business that aren’t the best—”

“Aren’t the best?” Her voice rose an octave. “How can you see anything good, especially after all that’s happened with Daisy and Frankie?”

“Now, that’s unfair, Lily.”

“You know as well as I do that lumbering lays waste to the land and feeds an appetite for lust and greed among the men for money, whiskey, and women.”

“Aren’t you being judgmental? It’s an industry like any other—like salt works that line the river or the commercial fishing out in the bay.”

“I’ve witnessed for myself just how depraved the lumber industry is. And you can’t convince me otherwise.”

He stifled a groan of frustration. “Look, I don’t want to get into another argument with you over this today. McCormick Lumber is in my blood. It’s what I do. It’s who I am. I can’t just walk away from it.”

“You can’t? Or won’t?” Her voice turned low.

Uneasiness lodged in his gut. “If I walked away from it, I’d have to turn my back on my family—and my dad. I can’t do that.”

“And you know after all that’s happened that I can’t go back to the debauchery, especially not with Daisy.” Her eyes flashed with determination.

His stomach rolled. He wanted to defend himself, to remind her of all that he’d already done to stand up to Carr, the risks he’d taken to help in Daisy’s rescue. But he clamped his jaw. He had the feeling all the defense in the world wouldn’t satisfy her. She’d only want more sacrifices from him than he could give.

Her jaw was set with a firmness that indicated the strength of her passion in the issue. Her passion was one of the things he loved about her. How could he ask her to change who she was for him? And what right did she have to expect him to give up everything that was important to him?

“Maybe we’re just too different,” she finally said. “Maybe we’re destined to live two separate lives.”

He nodded. He didn’t want to agree with her, but he couldn’t add up the situation any other way. He couldn’t stay in Bay City, and she couldn’t live with him among the lumber camps.

“It’s probably best for us to just go our own ways.”

Her words sliced his heart.

For a long moment, she gazed at him with wide expectation, almost as if she wanted him to contradict her.

But how could he disagree? They were as different as summer and winter.

He didn’t say anything.

A shadow fell across her features, and he turned away from her before he could read the disappointment in her eyes.

“Good-bye, Connell.” The finality in her voice pierced his heart again.

“Good-bye,” he whispered through a tight throat.

And when the swish of her satiny skirt moved away from him out of the room, he ached to run after her and fight for her, fight for them and what they could have had together.

But he lowered his head and let her walk out of his life.

Chapter
22

T
he ache in Lily’s heart pressed against her lungs and made breathing difficult. She had no desire to speak past the constriction in her throat.

Thankfully, Daisy was in one of her talkative moods and hadn’t noticed how quiet she’d been all morning.

Lily stretched out next to Daisy on the bed and stroked a silver-handled brush through the girl’s hair. The curls turned into waves under her deft hand, just the way they always had when Daisy was younger.

Lily’s toes grazed the large flat stone at the end of the bed. Even with the heating stone and the thick quilt for warmth, she couldn’t keep from shivering.

Or from thinking about Connell.

“I’ve never seen lovelier gowns than those Maggie purchased for all the girls,” Daisy said, lying on her side and staring at the flames in the marble fireplace. “The dresses were always gorgeous colors.”

Lily slid a hand over the satiny fabric of the garnet gown Mrs. McCormick had so generously presented to her earlier in the morning. Connell’s eyes had lit up when he’d seen her in it, just the way she’d hoped.

“And Maggie sure knew how to fix our hair.” Daisy’s voice was wistful.

“Sounds almost like you’re fond of Carr’s wife,” Lily said, swallowing past the ache and trying to push aside all the pain raging through her heart.

Connell had told her he didn’t want to live without her, but when faced with the choice to return to his work in Harrison or stay with her, he’d chosen his work, the family business, the success of McCormick Lumber.

She’d hoped he’d changed, that he would want to keep on doing the right thing—fighting against injustice and evil. But instead, he’d fled back to Hell’s Waiting Room, ready to get back to business as usual.

Besides, even if he had a mind to fight against the problems, how could they possibly make a relationship work if they lived in two different places? She couldn’t move back to Harrison—or to any of the lumber towns—not with Daisy, not now after all that had happened with her.

“Maggie was always nice to me.” Daisy rolled onto her back and gazed at the ceiling, papered in a print that coordinated with the walls. “She was like a mother to many of us.”

Lily pushed herself up and sat against the tall headboard, the raised wood carvings pressing into her back. Mrs. McCormick was the kind of mother she’d always dreamed about—the sweet considerate mother their own would have been.

“Did you know a lot of the girls at the Stockade were orphans, Lily?” Daisy peered at her with wide trusting eyes.

Lily swept her fingers across her sister’s forehead and then down her cheek, tracing her beauty spot above the edge of her chin. For all the pain she felt over losing Connell, she couldn’t forget to count her blessings. She had Daisy back again. They were together. And they could start over building a new life.

It didn’t matter that Connell was gone. She didn’t have room for him in her life anyway. Not now that she had Daisy to take care of. They would be busy getting work and looking for a place to live.

“Most of the girls are really good girls at heart,” Daisy continued.

“I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for each of you to have to degrade yourself night after night.”

“It was hard at first.” Daisy’s voice grew faint, and pain flashed through her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Lily smoothed the fair cheek of the girl, wishing she could as easily wipe away the painful memories.

For a long moment, the crackle of the fire was the only sound in the cozy bedroom. The dark mahogany of the bureau and armoire, along with the thick draperies closed against the light of day, deepened the shadows of the room. The dim light from the lamp on the bedstead table reached out to touch the silver decorations around the room and made them glitter—the leaf-patterned edge of the pedestal mirror, the tall candelabras on the mantel, a tiny decorative box.

The room couldn’t even begin to compare to the cramped, barren bedrooms of the orphanages they’d lived in for so many years, with rows of beds made of sagging, urine-stained mattresses and rusting metal frames.

She didn’t doubt Mr. McCormick had worked hard over the years to accumulate his wealth and the beautiful possessions she’d seen in every room and hallway of the house. But at what cost? The destruction of thousands upon thousands of acres of prime forestland? The callousness to the vile way of living that had accompanied the devastation?

And now Connell had chosen to follow in the same footsteps as his father. Apparently the success of the business was more important than anything else—including her.

Pain swirled through her again, as it had since she’d left him in the front parlor hours ago. As the morning had passed, she’d finally given up hope he would barge through the bedroom door and tell her he’d changed his mind.

He was gone.

If there had ever been a whisper of anything between them, it was gone now too.

Daisy gave a long sigh and stared at the ceiling, as if gazing into her past.

“Why did you do it, Daisy?” The question slipped out before Lily could stop it. She didn’t want to scold the girl. And she didn’t want to make her feel any worse than she already did. But the question had nagged her all winter, and she wouldn’t be at peace until she knew why Daisy had sold herself, body and soul.

“I told you in the letter I sent you last fall.” Daisy flipped away from her.

Lily reached for a strand of the girl’s hair, but then hesitated. “I know you wanted to earn money so we could be together again. But why didn’t you come to me first before you ran away?”

She shrugged.

“I would have figured out some way for us to be with each other.”

Daisy was silent.

“We could have gotten factory jobs or we could have gone back to New York—or something. Anything besides . . . giving your innocence away.”

The idea of her sweet little sister lying with countless strange, dirty men made her stomach ache. The pounding fist of depression threatened to overwhelm her every time she allowed herself to think about it.

Daisy’s innocence was gone. And now she could never get it back.

“Oh, Daisy,” she whispered, wishing she could turn back time and keep her sister from making such an enormous mistake.

“I didn’t
give
my innocence away,” Daisy said sullenly, as though sensing the condemnation that Lily was trying so hard not to place upon her.