A motion beside the house dragged his attention. A woman.
He forced his focus to clear. That familiar brown cloak. Lilly! Marcus struggled to his feet, staggering as he fought to gain his balance. He had to get to her.
“Lilly.” He tried to yell across the forty or so feet that separated them, but his voice rasped so much, the words were barely understandable, even to his own ears.
It caught her attention, though, and she looked his way, then lunged through the snow toward the cabin.
She was running from him.
Marcus coughed to clear his throat, then called to her again. He never stopped his forward movement, though. He had to talk with her.
This time she stopped, just before she reached the porch stairs. Turning to look at him, she leaned forward, staring hard. “Marcus?”
Her voice was like flowing honey. Warm and sweet.
He’d cut the distance between them in half now, but his strength was quickly waning. He would get to her, though.
Lilly took tentative steps toward him, plowing through the snow with her long skirts. “Marcus? What are you doing here?”
His legs lost strength right before he reached her, and he sank to the ground. She was there. Fitting herself under his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his back, pulling him back up.
“Let’s get you inside. You’re frozen.”
He didn’t remember much after that. Not until he found himself in an arm chair by a blazing fire, piled with blankets and holding a steaming mug of coffee. His hands shook so much, he’d probably poured half the brew on himself, but it was warm. He breathed in the richness of it.
His stomach took that opportunity to complain again, and he could hear a flurry of feet in another part of the room. But all he could do—all he wanted to do—was soak up this warmth.
“Do you want to trade the coffee for hot gruel?”
He forced his eyes open at the sweet, familiar voice. Lilly. Standing like a dark-haired angel beside him, holding a tray in her hands. Anything she recommended had to be good.
Marcus allowed her to place the coffee on a nearby table then position the tray in his lap.
“Do you think you can spoon it?”
He had to open his eyes again to see her. Why wouldn’t they stay that way? She stood there expectantly, waiting for an answer. What was the question again? All he wanted to do right now was sleep.
“Here. Open your mouth, and I’ll help.”
Marcus didn’t even try to open his eyes this time. Just obeyed her direction. A warm, thick mixture landed in his mouth. He savored it as it slid down his throat. Warmth.
“Open again.”
He obeyed, relishing again the wonder of warmth and nourishment.
After another bite, he’d established a routine. Open, warmth, swallow, open again.
Gradually, the voracious feeling in his stomach began to dim. His shivers subsided some. And he lost himself in the oblivion of sleep.
~ ~ ~
“I THINK WE should check his feet for frostbite.”
Lilly considered Leah’s whispered words as she watched Marcus sleep. Exhaustion radiated from him with every breath. “He looks like he needs the rest. Can we wait until he wakes up?”
“It may be too late to save his toes by then. I’ll get some cloths to wrap his feet. Can you take his boots off?”
Leah walked away before Lilly could assemble a response. Remove the man’s shoes? Surely she shouldn’t do such an intimate thing. Couldn’t do it. Could she?
But Marcus certainly wasn’t in a condition to perform the task himself. And Leah was right. Already, he could have frostbite beyond what they could cure. How long had he been out there? Surely he hadn’t hiked all the way from Butte with only a wool coat and thin leather gloves for protection? Not even a scarf or hat.
She sank to her knees by his feet, gripped the toe and heel of his left boot, and pulled. The shoe wiggled, but not by much. She pulled harder, exerting more effort on the heel than the toe.
Marcus groaned, and she froze, scrutinizing his face. His breathing didn’t change, and his eyes remained closed.
She focused her attention on the boot again. Inch by inch, she worked it off until only a stocking remained. Lilly swallowed, then gripped the woven cloth by the toe and pulled.
The surface of his foot glared a scalding red, fading to pale, waxy white on the toes. It didn’t look normal at all.
“Here’s some warm water to dip it in.” Leah kneeled beside Lilly, and pushed the basin where Lilly could place Marcus’s foot in it.
Once it was settled in the water, Lilly shifted over to work on the second boot. No matter how much she tried to be gentle, a moan still slipped from Marcus’s lips.
“The white may only be frostnip.” Leah examined the foot in the water and pressed a finger onto one of the pale toes. “We won’t know for sure until they warm.”
The right foot looked as bad as the left, and Lilly carefully placed it alongside the other in the warm water.
Leah sat back on her heels. “I wish those trousers weren’t so damp.” She touched the soggy hem. “But maybe under these blankets and beside the fire they’ll dry soon.”
The sound of a baby’s fussing drifted from the bed chambers. Leah pushed to her feet. “Sounds like someone’s awake.”
As Leah disappeared through the doorway on the left, Lilly stayed in her position on the floor by Marcus’s feet. Dahlia was also taking her morning nap, so for once, there wasn’t anything clamoring for her attention. She wrapped her hands around her knees and watched Marcus.
What was he doing up here on the mountain? Had he come for her? That seemed so unlikely, but what other reason would he have to leave town during a snowstorm? And on foot. What had possessed him?
The troubled lines across his forehead started an ache in her chest. What was he worried about? His church? Or maybe the grooves stemmed from exhaustion, or pain as his cold-numbed nerves came back to life.
Whatever the cause, it was hard to see him struggle. This man who worked so hard to bring joy to others. The way he’d taken to Dahlia—and her to him—was remarkable. Did Dahlia sense something trustworthy in him? Or was it just childish innocence? But Dahlia had never been so accepting with anyone else.
Lilly pushed up from the floor and wiped her hands on her apron. She should add more warm water to the basin. And maybe Leah wouldn’t mind if she started a stew for lunch. Marcus would need warm broth, along with some hearty meat and potatoes to regain his strength.
~ ~ ~
SOMEONE was watching him.
As Marcus tried to force his heavy eyelids open, the sensation of another presence settled heavy on him. He finally forced a sliver of daylight through cracked lids. Nothing looked familiar. Opening his eyes wider, he turned his neck to scan the area.
An angelic, dark-haired fairy stood beside him, staring with huge, round eyes.
The weight pressing down on him lightened, and one side of his mouth even pulled in a weak smile. “There’s my girl.” His voice didn’t sound like his own, but it didn’t appear to frighten her.
“Hurt?” Dahlia’s soft, little-girl voice sounded worried, and a pucker appeared between her dark brows.
Marcus reached to tweak her chin, but blankets held his arms captive. He wiggled a hand out, and instead of her chin, he stroked a strand of long black hair from her forehead. “I’m not hurt, sweetie. Just tired. I think it’s time for me to get up, though. Don’t you?”
She bobbed her chin in a clear nod.
Marcus chuckled, but it turned into a hacking cough that wracked his chest.
“You’re not going anywhere until you eat this.” Lilly stood beside her daughter with a steaming tray as the coughs subsided, and Marcus sank back into the chair.
She was beautiful. In the dim light of the cabin, with the fire glowing on her face, the angels themselves couldn’t be more glorious. Her long raven braid fell across her shoulder, and the white apron she wore
hugged her slender waist.
She stepped closer, and Marcus’s mouth grew dry. She was close enough that he could pull her down into a kiss. What a glorious kiss that would be, too. She bent lower. Was she thinking the same? His eyes almost drifted closed, but he couldn’t stand to miss anything about this moment.
Something hard and bulky landed in his lap.
Marcus blinked and looked down. A tray sat on the blankets with a bowl of steaming soup, its warmth penetrating the quilts covering his legs.
“That will help you feel better.”
Not as good as he’d felt a few moments ago. Marcus swallowed. The broth did look good, though. And its warmth was already seeping through him.
Marcus raised his gaze to meet Lilly’s and tried to offer a smile. “Thanks. I’m sorry to show up and then collapse on you. That’s not why I came.”
She reached for Dahlia and placed her hands on the child’s shoulders, almost like a barrier between them. An unconscious movement? Or protection from him?
“Eat now. Talk after that.” Lilly’s eyes had a bit of the old haunted look that used to be their constant expression. How much damage had he done?
Lilly, Dahlia, and Mrs. Bryant ate at the table, and the latter kept a steady chatter with both Lilly and Dahlia, drawing them out. Despite manners that brought to mind the wealthier families his father had cared for back in Charlotte, Mrs. Bryan had a warmth about her that seemed to relax the atmosphere.
After they finished, the women worked together to clear the table while Dahlia sat on the floor next to Mrs. Bryant’s baby. The way Dahlia talked to her and made funny faces so the babe would laugh, it made him want to wrap the little fairy in his arms. She was so precious.
And Lilly. From his vantage point in the chair by the fire, he had his first opportunity to watch her unobstructed. She moved with a lithe grace and perfect posture. Similar to Mrs. Bryant’s well-bred carriage, but Lilly’s movements were more fluid. She was obviously comfortable in a kitchen, too.
At last, Mrs. Bryant turned from the stove and scanned the kitchen area, then removed her apron. “I think we’re all done in here. Dahlia, would you like me to read to you while I rock Emily to sleep?” She didn’t look to Lilly for approval, but reached for the child’s hand.
Lilly’s face seemed to pale some. Or maybe that was the difference in the lighting across the room. He could only hope.
But whether she wanted to talk with him or not, Marcus had things to say. It was time for an apology.
Chapter Fifteen
WHEN THE THREESOME disappeared through a door behind him, a quiet settled over the space, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Lilly picked up a cloth and wiped the table, although she’d already done that at least once.
“Lilly.”
She jumped at his voice. Her gaze found his, and he patted the rocking chair beside him. “Will you come sit with me?”
She finished wiping the table, and he worried she’d continue to ignore him. But then she turned toward him, and Marcus’s tension eased. She almost tip-toed across the room, her eyes wary as they watched him.
Had he done so much damage with those few words on the way back from the livery? How was he going to make this right? He’d do anything to take away the fear now glittering behind her mask, take her back to the sweet smiles they’d shared while playing with Dahlia.
Lilly perched on the settee across from him, out of reach. Probably best that way.
“I…I came up here to say I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked what I did.” He studied her. Lilly’s emotions were hard to read on a good day, but so many times she chose to smother them under that thick mask. Now, two fine lines puckered between her brows. What did that mean?
“What should you not have asked?” Her words came out soft, not laced with anger or fear. At least she was speaking.
Marcus took in a fortifying breath. “I shouldn’t have asked to be more than friends. I shouldn’t have rushed you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Please know you have nothing to fear from me.”
The lines disappeared from her brow, leaving behind clear, smooth skin. Flawless. She drew herself up, taking in a breath and squaring her shoulders. “It did scare me. I…haven’t…” She cut herself off and seemed to be contemplating something, then tipped up her chin and started again. “But your words weren’t what really frightened me that night.”
Now it was his turn to furrow his brow. “What then?”
She held herself perfectly still. “Claire didn’t tell you?”
Marcus let out a huff. “She wouldn’t say a word. It was like pulling teeth to find out you’d come here.” He tossed the quilts aside and scooted forward in his chair. The sight of his bare feet stopped him for a moment. Where had his boots gone?
But then his focus honed in on Lilly. Something about her posture tightened the knot in his gut. He tried to force gentleness into his tone, but his tight muscles made it hard. “What frightened you?”
Her chin quivered once, but then a muscle in her jaw tightened. “A man has been following me home at night.”
Marcus gripped the arms of the chair lest he surge to his feet and alarm her. “Who?”
She looked at the floor.
He tried to meet her gaze, but she wouldn’t look up. “Lilly, do you know who he is? Did he hurt you?” He wanted with everything in him to take her in his arms and smooth away the terror that man had caused. But something inside told him to give her space. Wait for her. Give me wisdom, Lord. He kept a white-knuckled hold on the chair arms.
“He finally showed himself that night. I…knew him from before.”
Marcus’s insides screamed to react, but he held himself perfectly still. No response. No breathing.
At last, Lilly raised her head, but she looked at the fire in the hearth instead of at him. Her gaze lost itself in the dancing flames. “He was Dahlia’s father.”
The breath leaked from Marcus. A weight pressed hard on his chest, and he couldn’t draw air. Dahlia’s father? How? What did that mean? He still didn’t know what conditions the child had been conceived under. Didn’t want to think about it. He gripped tighter to the chair, digging into the wooden frame under the cloth.
“The last time I saw him, he’d been staying at the same hotel where my father and I were. Then Pa-pa died of the sickness. I was devastated. That man caught me in the hall, but I was too numb to see where he was taking me. Until…it was too late.” She released a shuddering breath.
Marcus was beside her before he realized what he’d done. Slipping an arm around her shoulders. Pulling her close.
At first, her muscles held stiff, but then she seemed to crumple. She leaned into him and gripped his shirt as sobs took over her body. He buried his face in her hair as his heart fractured.
He held her for hours. Or maybe only long minutes, but her tears couldn’t seem to find an end. How much more could her fragile body withstand? Had she ever truly cried since that awful ordeal? Claire always said tears were healing for a woman. But poor Lilly hadn’t had the luxury of healing after what that man had done. Instead, she’d developed the impenetrable mask to cope with the horrors of her past.
Her sobs finally subsided, and she rested against his chest now with only an occasional shuddering sigh. He continued to stroke her back, breathing in the richness of her. The softness.
At last, she straightened and pulled away. He let her go but stayed beside her. Cold seeped in where her warmth had pressed against him, especially with the front of his shirt now damp and salty from her tears. His body missed her contact.
“I’m sorry.” She dropped her focus to her lap and wiped her eyes.
“Lilly.” He tried to catch her gaze, but she wouldn’t look up. He finally cupped her chin, gently prodding her to look at him. When she finally did, his heart nearly cracked at the tears still pooling in her eyes. “I’m sorry, too. But I’m glad you told me.”
She sniffed and nodded, dropping her gaze again. “The o
ther night, he said he wants to meet Dahlia. That she’s old enough to know her father.” She looked at him then, a blaze firing her eyes. “He’ll never be her Pa-pa. I won’t let him near us again.”
Marcus stroked her temple, pushing away stray hairs that clung to her damp cheek. “I won’t either.”
She stared at him. That haunted look filling every part of her gaze.
“Marcus?” They both jerked at the child’s voice behind him.
He pulled his hand from Lilly’s cheek and turned to face Dahlia. “There’s my ladybug.” He forced a smile.
“Will you tell me a story? Miss Leah fell asleep.” Her innocent little pixie face tugged at his heart.
He reached down and scooped her up onto his leg. “I suppose I can.”
As he started into the story of Noah and the ark, Lilly rose and retreated through one of the doors in the back wall. A bed chamber most likely. His chest tightened as he watched her go. Perhaps she only wanted to freshen up.
But he couldn’t shake the feeling she was retreating from him.
~ ~ ~
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Lilly stirred the pot of beans at the stove and stared out the window at the world of white. Marcus had spent the afternoon with Dahlia snuggled in his lap. When the child fell asleep, Lilly tried to take her to bed, but he’d given her a besotted smile and said they were both comfortable. There was no need to disturb the little fairy.
She could imagine how Dahlia felt, wrapped in Marcus’s strong arms where it felt like nothing could ever hurt her. Lilly allowed her eyes to sink closed as she remembered that feeling. She shouldn’t have allowed it. And certainly shouldn’t have blubbered all over him. But something about Marcus was different than any person she’d ever known. He was safe. Without a good reason, she knew it in her heart.
That was why she’d told him. Although, it was hard to look at him now that he knew. It’d been so hard to prepare herself for his censure, but he’d needed to know why she wasn’t any good for him. She hadn’t expected him to be so nice about it.
The Lady and the Mountain Promise (Mountain Dreams Series Book 4) Page 10