MB01 - Unending Devotion (6 page)

He supposed that’s why he couldn’t help his own fascination with her. Alone all winter with mostly men for company, he was letting the first pretty woman who came along turn him into a blushing schoolboy.

But the truth was, he wasn’t a blushing schoolboy anymore. He’d learned his lesson the hard way two years ago. He’d gotten starry-eyed over a girl, had let her sweep him off his feet, and had floated on the clouds for a while. But eventually, reality had yanked him and he’d come crashing down, smashing the ground with a force that still ached in the deepest marrow of his bones.

He didn’t need to make the same mistake twice in his twenty-six years of life.

“I suppose I’d better get back to work.” He pushed away from the doorframe. It didn’t sound like Lily wanted help. But if she did, Stuart was more than willing to give it.

“Work?” Stuart grinned at him. “Since when do you actually do any work, you lazybones?”

Connell forced a smile. “That’s true. I can’t work today, not after inhaling all of the deadly sock fumes last night. I’m still recovering.”

The reserve fell away from Lily’s face, and a smile crept up her lips. “I would have thought breathing in the odor of dirty socks was like smelling roses to a shanty boy like you.”

He stopped. Did she think he was just a regular shanty boy? Surely she could tell he wasn’t an ordinary man. After all, he was boarding in town instead of living at one of the camps.

Stuart’s expression grew playful. “Yeah. Why don’t you put on your smelly socks and get out there and cut some trees, you tough old shanty boy?”

For a quarter of a second Connell was tempted to explain who he was. He wouldn’t mind watching her eyes widen in awe when she learned that he was the boss man of three of the area’s largest lumber camps, the oldest son of Kean McCormick, one of the wealthiest lumber barons in central Michigan.

Instead, he merely tossed her a grin before turning to leave. As much as he’d enjoy impressing Lily Young, he wouldn’t do it that way—not by boasting of his importance and wealth.

If he was going to win her favor, he’d do it like a man.

But of course he didn’t care about winning her favor.

Not in the least.

Chapter
4

L
ily had to admit, she liked the way Connell McCormick peeked at her over the rims of his spectacles. From his corner spot of the deserted dining room, behind his stacks of books, he pretended to work. But she could feel his gaze upon her, tickling her, making her insides flutter.

There was something about his intense green eyes and his attempts to hide his obvious fascination with her that warmed her and made her feel womanly in a way she hadn’t experienced before.

At the last note of Mr. Heller’s lively harmonica tune, Lily clapped, giving the hotel proprietor her biggest smile. “Your music makes me want to get up and dance with you.”

The husky man ducked his head. In some ways, he was like a simple-minded child in a grown man’s body. He kept mostly to himself in the stable, caring for the animals. Vera hadn’t wanted to talk about the logging accident that had taken her husband’s wits from him, and Lily figured it wasn’t her place to pry.

The strains of Mr. Heller’s tune drifted away, leaving in its place the harsh plunking of the saloon piano across the street, drunken shouts, distant raucous laughter, and even a slamming door or two. There had already been one enormous fistfight in the middle of the street, and Lily had no doubt there would be many more before the end of the night.

All of the drinking and carousing served to remind her that she’d made so little progress over the past three days.

As if sensing the shift in her mood, Vera reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “It’s like this every Saturday night. The boys coming into town from all the camps. All their fighting and wild activities would have their poor mamas in tears if they could see them.”

Lily took Vera’s offer of comfort gratefully and pressed the woman’s hand back. It was the same in every other lumber town—the Saturday night revelry that preceded the one day a week the shanty boys had off from their hard labor.

She glanced at Connell, and his attention flicked back to his book. Maybe he didn’t want to fight against the evil, but at least he wasn’t joining the other shanty boys in their debauchery. He seemed content to spend his evenings hiding behind his books doing whatever it was he did with them.

“You could always dance with Connell,” Vera said, following Lily’s gaze.

It was Lily’s turn to feel embarrassed. “Oh no, I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” Vera smiled, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “I’m sure Mr. Heller won’t mind playing another song. And I
know
Connell wouldn’t say no to the chance to put his hands on your waist and twirl you in his arms.”

She wiggled, her insides blushing. She highly doubted Connell would want to twirl her.

Connell lowered his head further into his book.

“And don’t you dare contradict me, Connell McCormick.” Vera wagged her finger at the man.

“What?” He sat up straighter and arched his eyebrows at them, as if it were the first time he’d noticed them in the room all evening.

Lily smiled at the feigned innocence on his face.

“Now, young man,” Vera scolded, “you’ve had your eyes on Lily all week. Don’t you deny it.”

“I’ve been doing what I always do—sitting over here minding my own business and doing my work.”

Vera shook her head. “You’re in trouble now, boy. I was going to give you a couple more cookies, but”—she pushed the plate of treats toward Lily—“now only Lily gets more.”

The sugary sweet scent of the freshly baked molasses cookies had bathed the room, driving out the lingering acridness of burnt coffee. Lily had already indulged in several in place of the usual fare of beans and salt pork.

She picked two more from the plate. “You’re a dear, dear woman.”

Connell snorted.

Vera’s lips twitched with a smile she was holding back. “That’s enough from you, young man. If you stopped all your nonsense, got up and danced with Lily like a real man, then maybe I’d give you the rest.”

Connell sat up taller and eyed the plate that was still heaped with cookies.

Lily wanted to giggle but hid the smile behind her hand.

Then his eyes lifted to hers, the mirth within them turning the green into the same shade as summer leaves fluttering in a warm breeze.

The warmth captured her and drew her in. For a long moment she basked in their private exchange of amusement over Vera’s audacity. But then the green of his eyes darkened and the jollity of his expression faded, replaced with a determination that sent Lily’s heart chugging forward like a locomotive.

Without breaking his eye contact, he pushed back from his spot and stood.

Would he really listen to Vera’s silly challenge to dance with her?

Her heart picked up speed.

Everything in his expression said he would—that he wanted to dance with her more than anything.

Although she’d been in plenty of situations where she’d had to rebuff the advances of shanty boys, she’d never met one like this man—one she didn’t want to rebuff.

Did she actually want his attention?

A tingle of fright pushed her off the bench and to her feet.

He stopped.

“I’d best be heading up to bed,” she said, refusing to meet his gaze. Oren had long since gone up to his room. “I’m sure Oren will want to get an early start in the morning to one of the camps. For our first day of picture taking . . .”

Connell didn’t say anything, and he didn’t move forward to stop her when she said good-night to the Hellers and started toward the stairway.

She could feel the intensity of his gaze lingering upon her as she took each narrow step. She held herself rigid, hoping she wouldn’t trip on the hem of her skirt or do something else that might embarrass her further. And when she turned the corner of the stairwell out of his sight, she leaned against the cool wall and took a deep breath.

What was wrong with her? Why was she reacting so strangely to Connell’s obvious interest?

Of course he was very good-looking, having an odd combination of earthy and intellectual at the same time.

But she’d seen plenty of handsome and charming men that winter, and none had affected her quite like Connell just had.

The stairs creaked near the top, and she pushed away from the wall, flustered once again at the trail of her thoughts. She’d always kept herself pure, had prided herself over the years for her ability to stay away from boys when so many of the other girls in the orphanages had fallen into temptation.

She kept her head down and ascended with more speed. The clomp of boots coming from the other direction neared her, and she caught the acidic reek of whiskey.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the little spitfire herself.”

Lily glanced up with a start and found Jimmy Neil standing two steps above her. A slow grin spread across his face, and the black gaps where he was missing parts of his top teeth seemed to stare at her.

He’d leered at her several times that past week during the meals he’d taken in the dining room. But she’d made a point of ignoring him. And that’s exactly what she planned to do this time too.

He moved one step closer, and the stench of the alcohol on his breath filled the space between them. He’d likely already been out at the taverns long enough to drink too much but would continue with the drinking as long as he was conscious. So why was he back at the hotel?

“Ran out of money,” he said too softly, as if he’d seen the direction of her thoughts. “The night’s still young, and I aim to get my fill of women.” His eyes glistened with brittle lust.

A man like Jimmy Neil didn’t deserve a response, not even the briefest acknowledgment that she’d heard his lurid words. She turned her head and pushed past him in the narrow stairwell.

But before she could get by, his arm shot out and blocked her path.

“Where you goin’ so fast?”

“Get out of my way.” She shoved his arm, but it didn’t budge. She tried to duck under it, but he stuck out his knee.

He leaned into her. The sickly heat and sourness of his breath fanned her neck. “Maybe I don’t need to go back out, not when I can have a little spitfire right here, right now.”

She stifled a shudder and the shiver of fear that accompanied it. She might have broken free of him last time, but he was drunk now, and there was no telling what he was capable of doing.

Better for her to play it safe.

She spun and tried to retreat the way she’d come, but his other hand slapped against the wall, trapping her into an awkward prison within the confines of his arms.

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere except up to my room with me.” He pushed himself against her in such a carnal way that she couldn’t keep from crying out in alarm.

His hand cut off her cry, covering her mouth and smothering any chance she had at calling for help. A rush of fear turned her blood to ice.

For an instant Daisy’s sweet face flitted into her mind. Was this the way men treated her sister? How could she possibly withstand such abuse day after day?

As if seeing the fright in Lily’s eyes, his gap-toothed smile widened. “It’s always more fun when there’s some scratchin’ and clawin’.”

His hand against her mouth and nose was beginning to suffocate her. She swung her head, struggling to break free and jerked up her knee, trying to connect it with his tender spot. But he was pressed too close, and he only strengthened his grip.

She tried to scream and then bite him. But she was quickly losing strength in the dizzying wave that rushed over her.

Suddenly his smile froze and fear flitted across his face.

“Let go of her. Now. Or I’ll shove this knife in all the way.” Connell’s voice was low and menacing.

Slowly Jimmy’s grip loosened.

She caught a glimpse of Connell, one step down, his face a mask of calm fury.

Relief swelled with such force it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

With a renewed burst of energy, she freed her mouth from Jimmy’s grip. She sucked in a deep breath and then bit into his hand, digging her teeth into his flesh.

He cursed and released the pressure against her. The slackened hold was just enough for her to break away from him.

She scrambled up the steps, tripping and slipping, her heart racing too fast for her feet to keep up. It wasn’t until she reached the top that she finally stopped and glanced over her shoulder.

Connell shoved Jimmy down the steps. “Go on. Get out of here.” He held out a hunting knife and pointed it at Jimmy.

Jimmy half fell, half stumbled to the landing.

“And don’t come back,” Connell called.

Jimmy’s eyes flashed with threats of hatred and the promise of retaliation.

“I’ll have Vera clean out your room and put your bag outside.”

Jimmy struggled to his feet. In a matter of seconds he was gone, and all that remained was the lingering odor of whiskey.

Connell straightened and looked up at her, his face full of concern. “Are you okay?” Somehow his knife had disappeared, almost as if it hadn’t existed.

She swallowed the last traces of her fear and nodded.

He put a hand on the rail and took a step toward her.

With trembling fingers she brushed the loose curls from her face. There was a small part of her that wanted him to come to her, to reassure her. But there was another part of her that warned her against trusting him. After all, other than a few brief encounters, she barely knew him.

As if sensing her thoughts, he didn’t make a move to draw any nearer. “I’ll make sure Jimmy doesn’t come back.”

“Good.”

“Even so, if I were you, I’d make sure I slept with my door locked every night.”

“I do.” But was a locked door enough to keep her safe?

Connell shifted, started to say something, and then released a gust of breath.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, praying she really would be.

For a long moment, he didn’t respond. Instead, his questioning gaze penetrated her.

Somehow she managed to say good-night and walk to her room without shaking. But once inside, she crawled into bed, pulled the covers over her head, and shook uncontrollably.