MB01 - Unending Devotion (35 page)

A piece of folded paper on the bedstead table caught Lily’s attention. She reached for it, and at the sight of her name in Daisy’s scrawled handwriting, her heart ceased beating.

She flipped the paper open and read.

Dear Lily,

I’m leaving. I want to live my life the way I want. I’m a grown woman now, and I don’t need you to tell me what to do or how to live anymore. Please, just let me go and don’t try to find me.

That was it. No “I love you.” No “Thank you.” No “I’ll miss you.”

“Oh, Daisy.” Lily pressed her fingers against her lips to hold back a cry.

She dropped to the edge of the bed and read the note again, hoping the words would say something different this time.

But the same cold message slapped her and brought stinging tears to her eyes.

“How could you?” After all she’d done for Daisy, how hard she’d tried to make things right, how much effort she was putting into trying to give them a new life.

And Daisy repaid her by running away again?

With a groan, Lily buried her face in her hands. She’d put her own life at risk to rescue Daisy. So had Connell. There was no telling what kind of trouble he was in with Carr now—all because of Daisy.

Sobs of anger and disappointment tore at Lily’s throat, begging for release.

Why had Daisy done it? Didn’t she love her? Didn’t she want to be with her?

She swallowed through the tightness of her throat. With a burst of determination, she stood. She wouldn’t let Daisy run away again. Not now. Not after she’d just found her.

With a shake of her head, she brushed away the nagging thought that maybe she was trying to take too much control of the plans for her life, that she’d taken over completely and wasn’t leaving room for God’s bigger plans.

All she needed to do was work harder, didn’t she?

A quick glance around the room revealed that Daisy had taken all of her dresses, even the ones Mrs. McCormick had loaned her. The silver-handled brush was gone. The decorative silver box. The candelabras.

Lily’s heart sank. Had Daisy turned into a thief too? How could she so thoughtlessly take the belongings of someone who’d generously opened her home and provided for their every need? What kind of girl would do that?

Certainly not the sweet little girl she’d raised.

Lily’s gaze landed upon the bedside table. The miniature framed picture of their mother and father was gone too.

Her body constricted.

“No!” She dropped to the floor and scrambled to find the photograph, the last connection she had with her mother and father, the only tie to her past.

A search under the bed, through the sheets, and around the room revealed nothing but the selfishness in Daisy’s heart.

“You had to take it, didn’t you?” Lily yelled at the rumpled bed, as if by doing so she could bring Daisy back. “You knew it was important to me. But you didn’t care!”

The pressure in her chest made her want to weep.

“You foolish, foolish girl!” She pounded a fist against the bed and caught the edge of a sob before it could escape.

“You don’t know what you’re doing.” Where would Daisy go? What could the girl possibly do besides return to a life of prostitution? And that was unthinkable. She couldn’t let Daisy make that mistake again.

Daisy had told her not to find her. But Lily had no choice. The girl couldn’t survive on her own. She needed Lily whether she thought so or not.

Lily raced from the room, down the winding staircase, and into the front hallway. She paused only to retrieve her coat before plunging out the front door into the wintry afternoon.

Large fluffy snowflakes were coming down thick and fast. The snow had formed a fresh blanket over her earlier footprints and covered any tracks that might lead her to Daisy.

But Lily didn’t care. She fixed her gaze on the redbrick Queen Anne home across the street. With its steeply pitched roofs, conical tower, and numerous gables, it was an elegant home, a smaller version of the one she’d just exited.

As she reached the end of the walkway and stepped onto the wide muddy street that was immune to the fresh snow, she ignored the others passing by.

Each footstep slapped louder against the muck in the street and each breath puff whiter in the frigid air. She couldn’t find the energy to complain about the fact that another winter storm was blowing in, that it was nearing the end of February and spring felt like it would never arrive.

The only thing she wanted was to get her hands around Tierney’s neck and squeeze until he confessed Daisy’s whereabouts. He would know. Daisy would turn to him first.

When Lily stepped off the street onto the snow-covered plank walkway that led to Tierney’s home, fingers suddenly gripped her forearm and the tip of a knife poked through her coat and the layers of her clothes into her back.

She gasped.

“Don’t say nothin’. Don’t scream” came a hard voice from behind her. “And maybe you’ll live.”

Lily froze.

“Walk nice and slow to that carriage there.” The point of the knife was painfully close to piercing her skin, and the strong grip propelled her toward a carriage parked along the side of the road. A team of horses snorted as if waiting for her.

Fear pulsed through her. “Who are you? What do you want?” She tried to yank her arm free and twist around to identify the man. But he pushed the knife deeper, this time cutting into her skin.

She cried out at the sudden burning.

“I said not to say nothin’.” The man pushed her faster toward the open carriage door.

The driver was perched, reins in hand, ready to go. “That ain’t Bella,” he growled.

“I couldn’t find her,” said her captor, shoving her upward, giving her little choice but to climb into the carriage. “Figured this one could help us.”

She couldn’t think fast enough or move quickly enough, and before she knew it, the man had tossed her against the hard, cold seat. She struggled to untangle herself from her skirts and sit up.

But he shoved his way into the cramped space after her, pushing her down and towering over her. He yanked the door closed with a finality that sent chills over her.

The odor of dust and decaying leather lingered in the cracked seat. And as he lowered his face to hers, the strong scent of onions and tobacco on his hot breath choked her.

He gave a short laugh. “I’ve been waiting to get a taste of you.”

Through the dark shadows of the boxy interior, she caught a glimpse of his face and the black gaps in his grin. “Jimmy Neil from Harrison.”

“That’s me.” His hand crept over her bodice, sending new horror through her.

The worst was happening. He was going to defile her.

“Get off me.” She struggled against him, scrambling to get out from underneath his heavy weight. She kneed him and scratched his face, and fought with all the desperation welling inside her.

The jerk of the carriage as it started forward sent him crashing against the rear-facing seat.

She used the brief respite to pull herself onto the bench and move as far away from him as possible. She cowered in the corner, trying to still the trembling in her limbs, knowing she couldn’t put enough distance between them, and he could easily overpower her if he chose to have his way with her.

But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t fight him. She’d rather die fighting than let him violate her.

He cupped his hand, cursed at the edge of the seat, then yelled at the driver.

She balled her fists, ready to swing should Jimmy come at her again.

But he lifted his hand and blood gushed from a deep tear in the flesh of his palm.

“What have you done with Daisy?” she asked. Maybe he’d already captured Daisy and was planning to make her return to the Stockade.

“That’s funny.” He reached for a rag next to him on the seat. “I was about to ask you the same.”

“Did you kidnap her too?”

He bit down on the edge of the rag, and despite the bumping and jostling of the vehicle, he used his teeth to tear a long strip. “I figured when I couldn’t find her that you took her and hid her someplace new.”

Lily glanced out the carriage window as best she could through the smudged and frosted pane. They were moving fast.

Jimmy wrapped the strip around his wounded hand. “Tell me where Bella is.”

“I don’t know.” Her fingers moved toward the door lever. “And even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you. Not even if you stuck your knife into me and cut out my heart.”

Jimmy snorted. “Oh, believe me, you’d tell me if I stuck my knife into you. I’d make sure of that.”

Lily shuddered and inched her hand higher. She needed to get away from him and find Daisy before he did.

“My boss told me to bring Bella back to him or he’d kill me.”

“You’d best tell your boss you won’t be bringing Bella back to him. Ever. I won’t let it happen.”

“Then I guess you’re gonna have to take her place.” He finished tying the bandage around his wound, but a dark spot of blood was already seeping through the material. “Because I’m not going back empty-handed.”

Her fingers made contact with the metal handle. Her heart whirred in a frenzy. She couldn’t let him drag her back to Harrison. She’d jump to her death before she let him take her to the Stockade.

She flipped the latch and the door swung open. She lunged for the opening. The swirling snow and cold air hit her face. She glanced down. The crunching of the wheels in the ice and mud made her hesitate for just a moment.

But it was a moment too long. Jimmy grabbed onto the fancy bouffant skirt and yanked her backward with the strength of a man who wrestled logs for a living.

She fell back against him, and this time his arm slid around her neck, pinning her body to his.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” His voice rasped against her ear as he leaned forward and slammed the door closed.

“I’m leaving.” She fought to free herself from his grasp. “And you can’t stop me.”

“Oh, yes I can. Watch me.” His arm around her neck tightened, cutting off her breath. He reached for the rag again and brought it to her face.

She tried to lean away from the filthy, streaked rag, but he pinned her harder. A rotten odor assaulted her, and she could only gasp for breath, sucking in the fumes that saturated the damp rag.

He shoved it against her nose and mouth, cupping it over her so that she had no choice but to breath in the mind-numbing chemical.

She flailed her arms, as if she were sinking underwater and trying to reach the surface, where she could finally gasp for air.

But Jimmy’s hand pressed harder.

Her vision grew blurry and her head dizzy.

She pounded at Jimmy but felt like she was beating against a pillow.

God, help me!
her heart cried.

Then the world turned black.

Chapter
27

T
wenty men and three women. That was thirteen more than the last Red Ribbon Society meeting. Connell jotted the number onto the open ledger on the table in front of him and then pulled out his watch.

Seven thirty-two.

In his usual neat print, he added the time to the meeting minutes.

He’d agreed to act as treasurer and secretary. But he’d deferred the hands-on leadership to Stuart.

Besides, most of the newcomers were there because of Stuart’s article about Frankie’s murder. His friend had stayed up all night getting the jobber back into working order. By midmorning, he’d had the paper ready to go, citing all the details of Carr’s kidnapping Frankie, forcing her into prostitution, and then beating her to death when she didn’t cooperate.

Connell had helped him with the delivery, riding the country roads to get the news out and announce another Red Ribbon Society meeting.

And now, the dining room of the Northern Hotel was fuller than it’d been in a long time. The air was charged with angry conversations about Carr—exactly the reaction they’d hoped the newspaper article would generate. Stuart had invited the bosses and foremen from some of the other lumber camps. Surprisingly, several had shown up, including Herb Nolan from his own Camp 1.

Vera maneuvered past him, a coffeepot in each hand. She stopped and poured more into his cup, adding to the grainy lukewarm liquid that remained. Some sloshed onto the tablecloth, reminding him of the first morning after Lily had arrived at the Northern and how they’d shared a smile over Vera’s awful coffee. Her smile had soaked into him like bright rays of sunshine on the first warm day of spring.

What he wouldn’t give to turn back the clock and see her sitting across the room from him again.

“Looks like you could use the whole pot,” Vera said, moving past him. “Are you getting any sleep these days?”

He shook his head. Exhaustion made every bone in his body ache. It had been at least two weeks since he’d slept more than an hour or two at a time.

“I wish you’d let me give you some of my motherwort tonic to help you sleep better.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I insist,” she called over her shoulder as she refilled another man’s cup. “Now, be a good boy and don’t go to your room tonight without it.”

He didn’t have the heart to tell her he went to bed every night wondering if it would be his last. Now that he’d made an enemy of Carr, he doubted he’d ever get a good night’s sleep again.

He glanced at his watch. Two more minutes had elapsed. Through the mingling crowd, Connell caught Stuart’s eye and tapped his watch. They were now four minutes behind schedule.

Stuart nodded and called the meeting to order. “There is a glimmer of good news amidst all the bad,” Stuart said once the room had quieted.

For a moment, the only sounds were the blowing and drawing of the men slurping coffee. The yeasty fragrance of the doughnuts Vera had made for the morning couldn’t compete with the thick heavy aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

Oren rested in a chair near the fireplace, his stockinged feet propped on a crate that sat near the glowing white coals. He puffed on his corncob pipe, his eyebrows scrunched together in a perpetual scowl.