“Oh! You’re right.” He squeezed her hand and let go, then stood up. “Don’t think you’re getting out of a thorough investigation of your life, because you’re not.” He winked at her, and touched her cheek.
“Of course not.” Lilly smiled, but she had to clasp her hands together to keep them from shaking. “I have lots of stories to tell you. Starting with the time my brother glued my braids together while I was taking a nap.”
“He didn’t!”
“He did.” She nodded. “I can bore you with enough stories like that to last us years.”
“Good.” He bent and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll enjoy lying beside you for the next forty years, hearing each and every one of them. Now I’ll take care of Charley and Paca while you unpack. Oh, and I sleep on the right side, but I’ll change sides, if you want.”
Lilly blushed as she watched Jake walk out. He was such a sweet man. I can’t go on lying to him, she thought, as she stood and walked over to her bag. She moved it to the bed and started pulling a shirtwaist and an extra chemise out of it and putting them away in the drawers. He’s been through so much. He deserves a wife who is completely honest with him.
She spent the next few minutes mulling over things as she put her Bible in the drawer of the left bedside table, and her brooches in the top dresser drawer. She set out her brush, tortoise shell comb, and a bottle of perfume on the dresser top, arranging them into an attractive configuration. Then she pulled out her two dresses and hung them on clothing hooks inside the small closet.
Lastly, she pulled out the framed photograph that she had tucked inside her dresses for the trip, and placed it on top of the dresser, behind the other items. It showed her family—herself in the middle, flanked by her parents on one side, and her siblings on the other—her sister Felicia, and her brother, Adam. It was taken the summer before, standing in the backyard, with the rose garden as a backdrop. She felt as if she was looking at a photograph of ghostly spirits—the old Lilly was long dead, and her family might as well be. Now Jake would be her only family.
She couldn’t afford to lose him.
Maybe telling him is the wrong thing to do. It will only hurt him in the long run. Besides, what happened before we even met is irrelevant to our life together now.
Chapter 10
Lilly made a simple supper for them with the meager supplies Jake had on hand. She promised that she would go to the market the next day and pick up supplies to make him a proper meal.
As she washed up the supper dishes, Jake sat at the table, watching her. She told him the story of her glued-together braids, as promised, plus several others that involved her brother’s antics. She shied away from any recent stories that involved her life back East. Childhood stories seemed a safer choice.
When she was done, they sat together on the porch stoop and watched the light as it faded slowly from the sky.
Jake laid his hand over hers, with some hesitation. “I’m so happy that you came out here to be with me. I can’t tell you how much it means. I will do everything I can to make you happy. Just promise me…promise me that if you are unhappy, you will tell me, so that I can try to help you. Don’t hide it from me. Don’t lie to me. Please.”
He squeezed her hand, and she could see that he was getting choked up.
Lilly nodded. “I’ll never lie to you. I promise.”
He leaned over and kissed the top of her head, and rested his cheek against her hair. They stayed like that until most of the light had faded from the sky.
She tried not to feel guilty for keeping her past from him. After all, it wasn’t a lie, just an omission. Wasn’t it? But then, why did she feel like she was lying?
After a few minutes, the warmth of Jake’s body beside hers slowly pushed out her worrisome thoughts. She knew the time to go to bed was rapidly approaching. But before any more terrifying fears could take hold, she realized she was feeling something else—something that edged out all other thoughts. As Jake put his arm around her shoulders, stroking her upper arm, she realized just how comfortable she felt in his arms. Safe. She felt safe. And more than that, she felt a desire to be even closer to him. Strange feelings surged through her body, feelings she didn’t quite understand. They scared her, a little. They also excited her.
Then Jake took her by the hand, and told her he thought it was time to go inside. He helped her up, and she followed him in. As he shut the door and led her by the hand toward the bedroom, her heart raced.
She stopped at the bedroom door, and Jake looked back over his shoulder. The bed loomed before them, and her fears surfaced again.
He squeezed her hand. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. We’ll take things as slow as you need. You’re safe with me.”
She didn’t know how in the world he could have known the perfect thing to say at that moment, but he did. And she realized that she trusted him.
He gave her hand a gentle tug, and she followed him into the room.
***
The next morning Lilly made Jake’s breakfast and kissed him before he went off to work. He couldn’t afford to take any more time away from his work at the smithy, or he’d lose too much business to another blacksmith in town. He was already pressed for time because of the Crowley order, and he had to give that job most of his attention.
She took the money Jake had given her for any supplies she thought she might need, and went to stock up on necessities. Following her husband’s directions, she walked down to the mercantile, nodding politely to people she passed along the street. Entering the mercantile’s door, a bell rung above her head.
“Good morning! What can I help you with?” A middle-aged, well-groomed man behind the counter called out to her.
“Well, I have a list here of some pantry staples that I need. I’ll also need a new market basket. And some fabric as well.”
“Let me see here,” he took the list she offered and perused the items. “I think we can help with all that. I haven’t seen you around before, Miss…?”
“Morgan. Mrs. Jake Morgan.”
The man paused, and Lilly could feel the eyes of the other women in the shop as they turned toward her.
“Oh! Yes. Yes, of course, Mrs. Morgan.” The man was quick to pipe up, casting glances at the other women. “I heard that Jake Morgan was getting married.”
Lilly turned to look at two women over by the fabrics in the corner. They turned quickly away, pretending not to have heard the conversation. Another woman, near a display of preserves, had the impertinence to continue staring.
“Hmph.” The guttural sound of a man’s scoffing came from behind.
She turned to see a stocky, rough-looking man examining farm implements. He glanced her way, looking her up and down, and muttered, “Morgan isn’t worthy to have one wife, much less two.” He turned back to the farm implements.
“Excuse me?” Lilly was shocked at his boldness. How dare he insult her husband like that, right in front of her! And just what did he mean by that remark?
“Here, let’s get you started on fabric selection.” The store clerk led her away, past the rude woman—who continued to stare—and toward the fabrics, then leaned in and spoke quietly. “Don’t mind Wilbur—that man can hold a grudge longer than a gunslinger can hold his liquor.”
Grudge? What grudge could the old man have against Jake?
“Mrs. Lester, would you be so kind as to help Mrs. Morgan here by showing her what he have for fabric selection? Then I can finish with Mr. Warren and get him on his way.” He raised his eyebrows at one of the two women in the corner—a thin, short woman, with dark blonde hair, who glanced at her heavyset companion, then nodded to the clerk, as if understanding his meaning.
“Of course, Mr. Sanders, I’d be happy to. You have your hands full—where is Mrs. Sanders, today?”
“Taking care of our daughter at her homestead. Emily is nearing the end of her confinement, and hasn’t been at all well, this week.”
“Well, then, y
ou take your time, and we’ll help Mrs. Morgan while we wait.”
Mr. Sanders—who Lilly realized must be the store owner and not just a clerk—made his way back to the surly Wilbur Warren.
As he passed the preserves, the dour woman murmured to him. “Perhaps instead of humoring the so-called ‘Mrs. Morgan’, you should be helping the customers who were in here first.” Then she shot Lilly a disapproving glare before turning her attention back to the preserves.
Lilly felt the blood rush to her cheeks. Were all the people in Helena so rude?
Mr. Sanders pinned her with a stern expression over the rims of his spectacles. “That’s exactly what I’m doing. If you’ll remember, Mr. Warren was in here before you, as were Mrs. Lester and Mrs. Perkins. If you need help choosing between orange marmalade and apricot preserves, I’d be happy to help you after I’ve helped them, Mrs. Birdwell.”
Lilly nearly laughed—not only because Mr. Sanders put the woman in her place, but due to the woman’s name—Birdwell. The woman appeared very bird-like indeed, with a hooked, beak-like nose and an unusual straw hat so packed with feathers, faux twigs and silk flowers atop it, that it looked much like an unruly nest upon her head.
The woman’s sour face puckered even more, and she placed the jar in her hand back on the shelf, then turned and stalked out the door.
“Never you mind that woman, my dear.” The portly Mrs. Perkins patted Lilly’s arm. “She finds fault with everyone and everything.”
“What did she mean by calling me ‘the so-called’ Mrs. Morgan?”
“I’m not sure what you mean, dear.” Mrs. Perkins looked away. She clearly was telling a fib.
“Let’s get started showing you around. Mrs. Sanders keeps her calicos over here.” Mrs. Lester tugged on her elbow, and Lilly followed reluctantly.
Chapter 11
An hour later, after selecting two calicos for dressmaking, Lilly was weighed down with a basket filled with eggs, yeast, salt, apples, orange marmalade, salt pork, and butter. She made a brief stop at the butcher shop for lard and some lamb, then made her way home with her armload of goods, to start dinner. She hoped to have it ready before Jake arrived. The smithy was not far from their apartment, which made it easy for him to walk home and spend the dinner hour with Lilly, before returning to finish his long day of work.
By the time Jake arrived home, sweaty and eager for the midday meal, Lilly was just pulling rolls out of the oven, and sliding in the spice bread and the apple pie to bake.
“Is dinner ready?” He washed his hands as best he could, trying to scrub the soot from the pads of his fingers. “I can’t stay long—it’s a busy day, and if I let Edgar get too swamped with shoeing and wheel repairs, I won’t be able to get back to work on the Crowley job later today.”
“Oh, is that the one with the fence and the wide, ornate gate you told me about? I didn’t think you’d let an apprentice handle that.”
“Yes, that’s the one. But don’t worry, he’s only working on the plainer parts of it—the framework, the easier parts of the hinges.” He shook droplets of water from his fingers and dried off his hands. “He’ll have to watch and learn while I take on the more complex aspects. I won’t let him within a yard of the rose-patterned panels. If Mrs. Crowley detects the slightest imperfection, she’ll ask me to do them over.”
“She sounds very particular.”
“When you’re the matron of the manor, I suppose you can be.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Something smells delicious!” He took a deep breath. “Speaking of the ‘matron of the manor’—my dear Mrs. Morgan, you’ve outdone yourself.” He dried his hands and sat down at the table.
“Well, that shouldn’t be hard,” Lilly giggled, “since you’ve only two other meals that I’ve made to judge this one against.” She leaned over and kissed a clean spot on his cheek.
“Mmm, you smell delicious, too,” he said as he leaned in, sniffing her neck. “Is that the perfume you wore last night?”
She blushed and nodded. “You said you liked it, so I thought I’d wear it again today. I’ll probably save it for special occasions—it was a gift from my mother. Father brought it home after a merchant trip to Paris last year, and she knew I admired it, so she gave it to me as a wedding gift, before I left.”
“That’s an odd gift, isn’t it? A bottle of perfume that is only three-fourths full?”
Lilly turned away and busied herself, buttering the rolls. “Yes. I suppose. But she knew how much I admired it.”
“Your father didn’t mind that she gave away something he’d given to her?”
Father didn’t know, she thought, but said nothing.
Her father’s words reverberated in her brain. If she even thinks about running off to Montana, her had father roared, speaking to her mother as if Lilly wasn’t even in the room…she will be no daughter of mine!
The night he had said those words, Lilly had left the dining room and gone upstairs to pack. Her satchel was tucked in her closet, with her traveling clothes laid over it, when she was ready to turn in for the night.
Father had gone to bed early, as usual, when Mother had slipped into her bedroom. She gave Lilly the bottle of perfume, telling her she knew how much Lilly admired it, and that she’d decided to give it to her, “for when you get married…someday.”
Then her mother had embraced Lilly and left the room, blinking back unshed tears. No doubt she knew her daughter’s mind, and her husband’s as well…and suspected it might be the last time she set eyes on her oldest daughter again.
The next morning Lilly had left a note on her dresser, which she’d known her mother wouldn’t see until she went to find out why Lilly wasn’t down to breakfast. That would have been not long after Lilly’s train had departed.
It pained her to know how worried her family would have been when they discovered she was gone. She knew they hadn’t been there for her when she’d needed them the most, but she loved them nonetheless. After all, they only did what they thought was best for me, didn’t they? That’s what she told herself, anyway. She had to believe it, because the alternative was to accept that they’d cared more about their own motivations and reputations than her safety and well-being. All of them, but Felicia, anyway.
She missed her sister, dearly.
“Lilly?” Jake’s voice startled her from her reverie.
“Yes?”
“I asked if your father minded that your mother gave away a gift that he had given to her.”
“What? Oh! No, father never said a word about it.” She turned back to look at him, forcing a smile and pushing away thoughts of her family. “Anyway, I just thought I’d put a little bit of it on today, and maybe bring a smile to your face.”
He took her hands, and pulled her close until they stood, almost touching. He leaned down, inhaling at her neck. “No ‘maybe’ about it. I’ll be wearing a smile the rest of the day, that’s for sure.” He kissed her briefly on the cheek, then stepped away. “If I don’t stop myself now, I’ll never get to eat, and I’ve got a load of work waiting for me back at the shop.”
“Well then, you sit down, I’ve got a hearty meal just waiting on you.” She served him up a large bowl of lamb stew, a couple of buttered rolls, and set down smaller portions of the same at her own place setting.
As she sat across from her husband, she lifted the spoon to her lips, then hesitated. “Jake?”
“Mm?” He barely looked up from his food as he sopped up some liquid with a roll and took an eager bite.
“Something strange happened at the store today.”
“What’s that?” He paused, glancing up at her, before taking a spoonful of stew.
“People…they looked at me strangely when they found out who I was. And one man, he…”
Jake’s brow furrowed with concern as he set his spoon down. “What? What happened, Lilly?”
“Well…he didn’t have very kind things to say about you. And another woman referred to me as ‘the so-called Mrs. Morgan’.
What did she mean by that?”
Jake’s jaw clenched. “I had hoped they’d be over all that by now. I’m fed up with those gossiping busybodies.”
“What do you mean?”
“I should have told you before—should have warned you—but I honestly thought it would blow over.” He turned his face to the side, and fisted his hands on the table. A moment or two later, he released them, and met her eyes. “When my wife left, there was a lot of talk. You hear of men abandoning their families from time to time—usually because they fell to booze or gambling, or some such. But you don’t often hear of a woman—a supposedly God-fearing woman—up and leaving her husband. So they assumed I must have done something. Drove her off, beat her…something awful. I didn’t fancy the idea of spreading around my humiliating experience just to defend myself, so I kept quiet.”
But eventually it affected my business, and I was tired of the unfairness. That’s when I filed for divorce. I felt like I had a right to make it official—sort of like telling the world I wasn’t to blame. I never actually told anyone about it, but word got around anyway, as it does—probably some clerk saw the divorce decree, and that I listed infidelity as the reason for the dissolution of the marriage, spread that juicy detail to all who would listen. And soon everyone was whispering about that. I don’t know that the divorce stopped the gossip any, but at least they weren’t calling me a wife-beater anymore. Instead the men laughed about how I couldn’t keep my wife in line.”
Lilly stretched her hand across the table and covered his hand with her own. “I’m sorry.”
“Well, that’s not the half of it. Over the years people stopped talking about it, for the most part, but when word got around that I’d been seen talking to Mrs. Porter—who’s kicked up quite a bit of gossip herself, by running her own business after she got married—they made the assumption that I was looking for a wife. The woman who helps out at the post office is quick to share people’s private affairs, it seems, and I guess she let it get around that I was sending and receiving letters to a lot of young ‘misses’.”
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