Mail Order Promises

by Julianna Blake

  “I thought you were a pacifist.”

  Dr. Archer chuckled. “I wouldn’t say that. Just because I don’t have to stomach to shoot a poor deer who’s minding his own business, doesn’t mean I’ll stand by and let a ruffian mistreat a lady…or malign a good friend’s reputation.”

  “You certainly are a good friend.” She flashed him a warm smile.

  “You’re still going down to the mercantile?”

  She nodded, glancing toward Warren’s retreating figure. “He’s going the opposite way, so I’ll be fine.”

  “You sure? I think Jake would want me to go with you.”

  “It’s only a block down. I’ll be fine. But thank you. He had me so steamed, and caught me so off-guard—otherwise I’d have had the sense to just walk away, and not give him the satisfaction of getting me riled.”

  “The man doesn’t know how to treat a lady. His wife may have died in childbirth, but if you ask me, it was partly a blessing, for her. Living with a man like that—I can only imagine what it must be like.”

  They bid each other goodbye, and Lilly walked on toward the mercantile. She could feel Dr. Archer’s eyes on her back as she walked, and wasn’t surprised to find that he was still standing in front of his office when she reached the mercantile. He truly was a good man. Jake didn’t have many friends, but she was glad he had the doctor. She waved to let him know she was fine, then turned to go inside.

  The mercantile wasn’t too busy, given that it was such a hot day. There were a few men taking a break under the awning, and the door stood propped open to let in some fresh air. Inside, the heat was stifling, as the long, narrow space of the mercantile didn’t allow for an efficient flow of air. The only way for air to come in was the open door.

  Lilly made her way over to the fabrics and spent a while perusing the selection. There were a few customers being waited on at the counter, so she took her time deciding between the blue gingham and the dark purple calico. In the end she decided to get five yards of each. No, better make that seven, allowing for extra fullness in the front. By the time she had decided, there was only one customer left at the counter, who Mr. Sanders was waiting on.

  “Harry will check in the back and see if we have another sack of that for you, ma’am.” Mr. Sanders nodded at Harry Lin, his half Chinese, half white stock boy. Harry nodded back and disappeared into the storeroom.

  “I’m surprised you let a Chinaman work in your store, Mr. Sanders. Wouldn’t he be better off working where he belongs, on South Main?” The auburn-haired customer beside Lilly wore a smug smile.

  Mr. Sanders flashed the woman a disdainful look. “Harry works twice as hard as any stock boy I’ve hired. Anyone who has a problem with a hard-working young man is free to shop at the other mercantiles in town.”

  “I’ve seen him work,” Lilly cut in, feeling protective of the boy. “You’re right, he’s very efficient. Is his name really Harry?”

  “Naw, but I can’t pronounce his first name…that’s as close as I get, and poor Harry gave up trying to teach me. Now everyone calls him that, though his mother would probably skin him alive if she knew.” He smiled gratefully at Lilly. “What can I do for you, today?”

  “I’d like seven yards of each, please.”

  “Excellent. I’ll have Mrs. Sanders cut that for you.” He handed the fabric bolts to his wife, who took them to the far end of the counter to measure and cut the needed amount.

  The auburn-haired woman had remained silent during the exchange, but Lilly could feel the woman’s eyes watching her.

  Letting her own eyes wander, she glanced up at the goods suspended from the rafters—lanterns, baskets, and other odds and ends—and then looked over the wall of shelves behind Mr. Sanders, which were packed with tinned goods, as well as jars and bottles.

  Eventually the lady beside her must have lost interest in Lilly, as she turned away and also perused the shelves and rafters as she waited.

  Harry returned with a cotton sack, handing it off to Mr. Sanders, with his eyes downcast. Lilly suspected he’d heard the exchange, but if he did, he let no indication slip. Mr. Sanders set the sack on the counter and rung up the woman’s purchase at the ornate register, while his wife came up beside him with Lilly’s fabric tied in a neat bundle.

  “Here you go, Mrs. Morgan.” Mrs. Sanders held out the bundle.

  “Thank you,” said the other customer, turning toward Mrs. Sander’s voice.

  “Thank you,” Lilly said at the exact same moment, taking the fabric from Mrs. Sanders’ hands. Then she froze and turned to the woman beside her in surprise.

  The woman looked at the package in Mrs. Sanders’ hands.

  “This is your purchase, ma’am.” Mr. Sanders pushed the sack toward her. “Ten pounds of spring wheat flour. I was just ringing it up for you.”

  The woman looked at Mr. Sanders, then Mrs. Sanders, then at Lilly. “You’re Mrs. Morgan? As in, Mrs. Jake Morgan?”

  “Jake is my husband, yes.”

  Lilly didn’t remember meeting the woman before. Her dark auburn hair was pulled back in a bouffant twist, topped with a straw bonnet tied with a wide green ribbon that accented the green in her hazel eyes. She wore a light green summer dress with a neckline that was just slightly lower than what was considered proper. Try as she might, Lilly just couldn’t place the woman—and with her irritating demeanor, she was sure she’d have remembered meeting a woman like that.

  “Well, I’ll be!” laughed the woman, “Jake found himself another wife to clean up behind him, eh?”

  A prickling sensation swelled in Lilly’s chest. Something wasn’t right. Something…

  Here you go, Mrs. Morgan…Mrs. Sanders’ words from only moments ago bubbled up in her mind.

  …and the woman had turned and reached for the package!

  “Sadie,” Lilly breathed in shock. It wasn’t a question.

  Sadie grinned. “You’re a perceptive one, aren’t you? Then again, I suppose it wasn’t too far of a leap, given that I turned when I heard ‘Mrs. Morgan’.”

  “You’re not Mrs. Morgan. I am.”

  “I assure you, I am Sadie Morgan. I may have divorced Jake, but I still bear his name.”

  “But not the ‘Mrs.’ part,” Lilly snapped.

  “True. But most people just assume a woman of my age is married.”

  Lilly glanced down and saw a ring on Sadie’s finger. “Aren’t you?”

  “Heavens, no! Marriage doesn’t suit me.”

  She spoke as if lifelong commitment was nothing more than a fashionable dress that wasn’t to her liking.

  “Yet you wear a ring.”

  “Mm.” Sadie held the ring up in the light that filtered in from the front windows. “I always did like this ring, even if it is rather small.” She leaned over and whispered in Lilly’s ear. “I keep it so that people with think that Oswald and I are married. Wouldn’t want people to talk.” She leaned back and laughed hard, as if she’d told the funniest joke.

  “If you’re pretending to be married to this Oswald person, why would you call yourself Mrs. Morgan?” Lilly strove to keep her voice low.

  “Oh, I don’t. I go by Mrs. Turner back in Billings. But here…well, those that remember me know me as Mrs. Morgan. Right, Mr. Sanders?” She gave him a wink.

  “I believe I referred to you as ma’am,” he responded tersely.

  “And I refer to you as—” Mrs. Sanders began, under her breath

  “—that’ll be twenty-five cents, ma’am,” interrupted Mr. Sanders, shooting his wife a look.

  Lilly could only imagine what word had been about to burst forth from Mrs. Sanders’ mouth, before her husband interjected. She suspected it was likely a word she herself would agree with.

  “Well.” Sadie arched her brows at Lilly, as if they shared a secret joke. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around.” She put the twenty-five cents on the counter and waggled her fingers at Lilly before hefting the ten-pound sack of flour and turning to leave.

&nbs
p; Lilly stood motionless, her mouth opened in shock, her fingers crushing the fabric in her hands. The urge to chase after the woman and tear the hair from her scalp was overwhelming, but she managed to keep herself under control.

  “The audacity of that woman!” hissed Mrs. Sanders. “Bad enough for her to show her face around here, after what she did to poor Mr. Morgan—but to have the gall to answer to ‘Mrs. Morgan’? Bah!” She shook her head. “And pretending it was an accident, as if she didn’t know who you were?” Mrs. Sanders folded her arms and shook her head again. “That’s a load of horse manure, I can tell you that.”

  “She knew me?” Lilly was stunned. “How?”

  “I don’t know, but as soon as you walked into the store, she was watching you. Don’t know if she’s seen you around with Mr. Morgan, or asked about you, or what…but if you ask me, she knew exactly who you were, and what she was doing.”

  Lilly opened her mouth, but didn’t know what to say. She knew me? She was watching me, even before I spoke up for Mr. Sanders and Harry?

  “I’m sorry you had to endure that,” said Mr. Sanders, softly, casting his wife a stern look. “I knew the first day I met you, that you’d be good for Morgan. When I see him around town, he looks happy. Don’t know that I’ve seen him that happy…well…ever.”

  “Really?” That lifted Lilly’s spirits.

  “You betcha.” He smiled at her, then clapped his hands together, obviously eager to get past all the ‘woman talk’. “Well then, shall I put this on your tab?”

  “Yes, please.” Lilly decided to pay the bill the next time she was out. She just wanted to get out in the fresh air, where she could try to catch her breath after all that had happened.

  Her day on the town hadn’t been the pick-me-up that she’d hoped it would. She was eager to get home as quickly as possible to have dinner ready so she could talk things over with Jake.

  Chapter 24

  Jake knew he’d be arriving a little early for the dinner hour, but hopefully Lilly wouldn’t be too irritated, thinking him to be checking up on her. He was, of course, but he’d never admit it.

  When he opened the front gate, the first thing he saw was the door standing wide open. His heart galloped as he ran up the walk and through the door, then pulled up short.

  “Lilly?”

  The house was silent.

  In stark contrast to the day he’d come home to find the house immaculate and looking unlived-in, the kitchen before him was a disaster. Cans lay scattered across the floor and under the table, pots and pans were torn off their hooks on the wall and cast aside, and dishes were broken on the sideboard and the floor.

  “Lilly?”

  He walked slowly across the floor, china shards crunching beneath his boots. He stepped through the parlor door, and saw that the parlor, too, was in chaotic disarray. Cushions were tossed from the chairs and the settee, books were strewn everywhere. The framed mirror on the wall was cracked, and a lamp had fallen to the floor, its glass shade broken.

  He opened his mouth to call her name again, but no sound came out. He didn’t want to go into the bedroom. He was afraid of what he might find.

  Taking a deep breath, he forced one foot in front of the other, walking stiffly toward their bedroom door. It was partly closed. He laid his fingertips against the door, and paused, steeling himself for what he might see inside…knowing full well she hadn’t answered him either time he’d called.

  “Lilly…please…” he pushed the door lightly with his fingers, and it swung open to reveal their bedroom. It, too, was torn apart. The bedding was torn from the bed, laying in a pile at his feet. The items Lilly usually kept sitting on their dresser had been swept to the floor, and the sickening-sweet odor of spilled perfume hung heavy in the air. He spied the bottle of Lilly’s favorite perfume—the gift from her mother—broken on the floor, a small puddle of the scented liquid seeping into the dark wood floor.

  Lilly was nowhere to be found.

  Fear squeezed his chest like steel bands around a barrel. What had happened? Had someone broken in? Had she interrupted a burglar? Had the man who’d sent her flowers come back again, and taken her with him? Had he hurt her? Was she even alive?

  In one moment his whole world was torn apart. The woman he had grown to love in so short a time was missing, and already he felt like there was a gaping hole in his heart. He’d never even told her that he loved her—and now he might never see her again.

  “Jake?”

  The voice was faint, coming from the other side of the apartment.

  Lilly!

  Flooded with relief, he ran through the apartment, leaping around the overturned lamp and crunching across the broken china in the kitchen, until she was safe in his arms again. He held her tight, running a hand over her hair, kissing the top of her head and thanking God that she was alright.

  “Y…you’re smothering me,” she gasped.

  He released her, but held her hands, taking in the sweet sight of her. “I thought you were…” His hands shook, and he squeezed her hands as if to prove to himself she was really there.

  “I’m fine.” She squeezed his hands back. “Really, I am.” Then she looked around the kitchen. “What on earth happened?”

  “I don’t know. I only arrived home a minute ago. Where have you been?”

  “I told you I was going into town. I just got back.”

  He hugged her to him again, sighing as the fear drained from his body. “I had so many images running through my mind when I saw the house—as I went from room to room and saw the devastation, and you were nowhere to be found. I thought…I thought I lost you.”

  “You’ll never lose me.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

  He looked down into her brilliant green eyes and lay each of his hands on her cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you. I thought—I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again. And all I could think was that I’ve never told you…I’ve never said…”

  “What?”

  “I love you,” he murmured. “I love you. And I’m sorry I waited so long to say it. We haven’t known each other for very long, but it seems like an eternity, and you are so very, very precious to me.”

  “Oh, Jake,” her eyes shined with tears. “I was worried that I’d ruined everything between us—that you’d never love me.”

  “How could I not? You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I’ve been so happy these past five weeks. I love you, Lilly Morgan.”

  “And I love you.” She smiled up at him, blinking back the tears.

  He dipped his head down, and felt her rise up on her toes. Their lips met, hers soft and gentle against his. He let his hands drift down to her waist, pulling her to him, deepening the kiss as her arms encircled his neck. He wanted—needed—so desperately to show her just how much he loved her at that moment. He wanted her to feel treasured, cherished…to know the most pleasure he was capable of showing a woman. He had neglected her too long—in so many ways. And, he had to admit, he needed the connection. But he knew it wasn’t the time. It would have to wait—the apartment was a disaster, and he already knew how disheveled the bed was. He took one long, last taste of her irresistible lips, then reluctantly pulled back.

  She smiled, sighing contentedly and drawing her arms down from his neck, then she turned to face the mess.

  “You’ll need to get the sheriff. He has to see this.” She let go of him and wandered through the door into the parlor, as he followed close behind. “This is much more than a vase of flowers. This is…disturbed.”

  “No, I’m not leaving you.” He wouldn’t put her at risk again.

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “What’s the point? The sheriff has a whole city to keep safe—chock full of saloons and bordellos and drunk miners getting into fights. He’ll just send some lackey to take a look and say ‘wow, they sure did a job on the place’, and then report back to him. If h
e even does that. Most likely he’ll just make notes in a report. What good will that do?”

  “You don’t think we should report it?”

  “I think we should, but don’t expect much. Let’s just clean this up first, so we don’t have to come home to such a mess. I really just want to be with you for a while.”

  She hugged him again, then let go and walked past him, into the bedroom. He came up beside her and saw her staring at the perfume bottle on the floor. She stood motionless, then turned to look up at him.

  Her face was pale, her eyes wide and brimming with tears.

  “I know. I’m so sorry. I’ll find out where to get more. I’ll have a store in town order it for us, even if we have to order it sent from Paris.”

  She shook her head. “It was all I had to remember my mother by. I have no idea if I’ll ever see her again…and now it’s gone.”

  Jake wasn’t sure why she seemed so attached to the perfume, when her mother had turned her back on Lilly almost completely. But when he caught the perpetrator, he was going to make the man sorry he dared to break his wife’s heart as casually as he’d broken the bottle of perfume.

  ***

  It was two o’clock when they had the mess cleaned up. Lilly made up a quick lunch of canned fruit sprinkled with cinnamon, a hunk of crusty bread, and a wedge of cheese for each of them, so he could eat fast and get back to work.

  They ate in silence a while. Neither one of them could think of any pleasant topics of conversation.

  He wished he could figure out a way to lift her spirits. “So did you get all the accounts paid up for the month?”

  “Yes.” Lilly stabbed a chunk of peach and lifted it to her mouth. “Well, except the mercantile.”

  He caught a strange note in her voice, and that she wouldn’t lift her eyes to meet his. “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” she said quickly. “It’s just...”

  He watched her push food around her plate with her fork, her eyes still not meeting his. “What happened?”