“It’s only a kiss, Lily. Only a kiss.”
She blinked and he set her aside, willing to wait until the time was right. Lily would be his. That lush body, the curls that spilled over her shoulders, the tempting lips that held a trembling smile—all would be his. And soon.
“You have that confused look about you, Lily.” May watched her from heavy-lidded eyes and Lily sensed a hidden meaning in the woman’s words. “Like you’re trying to figure out which way to jump.”
“Jump? I’m not sure what you’re talking about, May.”
“About whatever it is Morgan has planned for you. He’s no dummy. He’ll use you for his own purposes, honey. Watch your step.”
“You don’t trust him?” Lily asked, fingering the sheet music Charlie had offered for her perusal.
“The question is, do you?” May took one of Lily’s spiral curls on the tip of her index finger and stretched it out to its full length, then released it, smiling as it resumed its original place. “He’s taken with you, that’s a given. But the man has secrets, girl, and you might be on the verge of a disaster.” She tilted her head and considered Lily for a moment.
“I saw a drawing that caught my eye, Lily. It was on a poster, dockside. When I looked again to be certain of my suspicions, it was gone.”
A feeling of dread blossomed within her as Lily stared in disbelief. “You saw it? You recognized me?”
May smiled. “It was a very good likeness, honey. But you really look more like a Lily than a woman named Yvonne.”
“I thought I’d killed a man, May. Now I find that he’s still alive and on my trail.”
“I knew you had secrets of your own, first time I saw you,” May said. She held up a warning hand. “Don’t get it in your mind that I’m after a reward. My mouth is shut when it comes to Yvonne Devereaux, but everyone else on this boat might not feel the same way I do. Just don’t let Morgan talk you into anything you won’t be able to get out of.”
The pause was short, but her heart pounded in her ears as Lily considered her words. And then they were spoken on an indrawn breath. “Like marriage?”
“Marriage? You’re going to marry him?” May’s demeanor underwent a sudden change as she sat down in a chair. “And how will that help you?” Her eyes narrowed as she seemed to consider the idea. “Or will it be for Morgan’s benefit? Is he planning on using you for cover?”
“What do you know about him?” Lily asked softly.
“Not a whole lot, but enough to recognize a man at work.” She glanced toward the piano, where Charlie played the song they were to practice. “I think it’s safe to say that Gage Morgan is not what he appears to be, Lily. Just watch your step.”
She rose and beckoned toward the sheet music Lily held. “Let’s go over this again, Charlie. From the beginning. I think we’ve got it now.” And with a short introduction, Charlie began the chords that supported their voices, allowing them to mingle in close harmony, May toning down her more powerful voice to suit Lily’s softer tones.
Even as her voice rose, and her skills blended with May’s accomplished presentation, Lily thought of the man she had left in the cabin. He was indeed a surprise package, and unless she was prepared to offer him her trust, their alliance could not work.
He’d been kind to her, even considering the bruises his hands had left on her arms and shoulders. His anger had marred her skin and she’d watched as he’d inspected the areas where his fingers had gripped her.
“I’m sorry,” he’d said quietly, and then his mouth curved in a rueful smile. “I’ve had to apologize twice for hurting you. It won’t happen again.”
But if she allowed herself to care for him, the pain she might face in the future would be all the worse, once his work was finished and she became a hindrance to him. And who was she trying to fool, she wondered. As if she weren’t already mightily attracted to the man. He was handsome and appealing, even given the harshness of his appearance and the cold deliberation that drove his actions.
She was between the devil and the deep blue sea, as the saying went, and the water was getting deeper by the hour.
“It’s been a problem finding you all alone lately.” The man who spoke remained in the shadows beneath the overhang on the top deck, where he would likely be unnoticed by anyone. His words were low, but alive with a taunt Morgan could not ignore.
“I knew you’d find me once you had news for me. As to the other, I’m setting the stage for my next move.”
“That’s one way of putting it, I suppose,” the messenger said. “I’d say your job has benefits.”
“Not a word about Lily,” Morgan warned. “You’ve never heard of the woman in case anyone asks you.”
“Oh, they’ll be asking all right. By the time we dock tomorrow there’ll probably be lawmen waiting for the boat.”
“I won’t be on it,” Morgan told him. “Nor will Lily.”
“I figured that out already. I’ve got a skiff waiting to take you to shore after she finishes this show.”
Morgan fished his pocket watch out and snapped open the lid. “Sure beats swimming, to my way of thinking. We’ll be there in an hour. Make a commotion of some sort to cover us.”
“I’ve been yearning for a barroom brawl for days,” the man said. His low chuckle was warmer now and he spoke quietly and quickly. “Be careful, Morgan. Using the woman may be the best idea you’ve had. She’ll be perfect cover, and easy to drop off somewhere down the line when the job is done.”
“Right.” Morgan lit a match and the light flared as he brought the flame to the tip of his slender cigar. “This may be the best idea I’ve had,” he murmured, taking the words as his own. He leaned on the railing and the man slipped from the shadows to disappear down a nearby set of stairs that led to the saloon.
The cigar flared as Morgan inhaled the heavy, tangy smoke. He looked at it with distaste written on his features, and cast it over the side where the water swallowed it with but a moment’s pause. The wave that sucked it up drew it under the surface and it was gone. And just that easily he might be disposed of, he thought, his expression grim.
Protecting Lily was his first concern for tonight, and that involved taking her from the boat in less than an hour. And then finding a stray parson to turn her into Lily Morgan.
The plan went smoothly, almost too much so, Morgan thought as he bundled Lily and her small valise into the skiff. From the saloon, shouts were raised and men were overturning tables and joining the fray. Strange how a few words could bring gamblers, and those who were making a business of drinking away the evening, to the point of battle, he mused. Taking up the oars, he cast off from the side of the steamboat and into the channel.
The suction drew him back toward the vessel, but his strength was equal to the task, and Morgan steered the small boat toward shore, eager to be beneath the overhanging branches of the trees lining the river. It was to Lily’s credit that she was silent. But given the choice of coming along quietly or being exposed to the sheriff at the next stopping place, she’d recognized the value of his plan. Holding her valise, she’d followed him from the cabin. She’d climbed down into the skiff, her skirt held high, taking her place on the far end, holding firmly to either side as Morgan joined her there.
The trees bent their curving, lissome branches almost to the water and in moments they were safe beneath the foliage. The boat was a hundred yards downriver from them, and the noise from the saloon faded, even as the flickering lanterns on the stern became two pinpoints in the darkness.
“Now what?” Lily asked in a soft undertone.
“Now we walk,” Morgan returned firmly. “We passed a small town a couple of miles back. We’ll head there and find a preacher to marry us in the morning.”
He pulled at the overhanging branches to draw the skiff closer to shore and then dug the oar into the soft river bottom, until they were safely moored next to the bank. It was a stretch for him, but in moments he’d jumped to dry land and then tugged the b
oat from the water.
“Let me give you a hand,” he said, offering his palm in her direction. She placed her own in it, and he was struck by the trust in that small gesture. By the firm grip of her fingers and the warmth of her palm. His Lily was brave—of that there was no doubt.
“Take my bag,” she whispered, and waited while he tossed the tapestry valise upon the bank. Her grip was strong as she allowed him to guide her from the boat, and she followed him closely. In short order he found a place that was easy to traverse to the meadow that met the water’s edge. Carefully they made their way through a sparsely wooded area to where a road headed in a northerly direction, and they set off walking.
“We’ll need to stop somewhere to sleep for a few hours,” he told her, his voice a low murmur in the darkness. And within fifteen minutes, he’d found a shadowed area beneath a grove of trees that offered a haven. The blanket he carried was spread on the ground and Lily lowered herself to its surface.
“Are you all right?” he asked, aware that walking in her new shoes was not a comfortable venture. They were made for beauty, not hard use, and he rued the fact that he’d not had the foresight to purchase a more practical pair.
“Fine,” she said, reaching to undo the footwear, then sliding the bits of leather from her feet with a sigh. “But I think we need to look into a different—”
“—pair of shoes. I know,” he said with a grin. “I’ve already decided that.”
“Well, at least we’re on the same track here,” she whispered, her shoulder slumping as she bent her head and reached to pull the combs from her hair.
“Lie down, Lily,” he told her, placing her fabric valise on the blanket. “I’ll use this for a pillow.”
“What about me?” she asked, slanting him a look upward, the moon giving her an unearthly look, silvering her dark hair and casting her skin with a pearly glow.
“You’ll use me. My shoulder anyway.” He stretched out beside her and beckoned her with an uplifted hand. “You’re safe for now,” he said.
“Am I?” She sounded a bit dubious, but did as she was told, curling on her side to face away from him. “I feel like I’ve been here before, Morgan.”
“Yeah, you should. We’ve slept this way for the past few nights.” He tucked her neatly against himself and felt her soften beneath his touch as she whispered in the darkness.
“What will we be doing tomorrow night? Will you go on by foot, or can we afford transportation?”
“Tomorrow night?” he asked. “We’ll worry about it when we get there.” In the next twenty-four hours he was committed to finding a man of the cloth who would turn the two of them into husband and wife. Tomorrow night he’d have the satisfaction of knowing that Lily was his, every delectable inch of her.
For tonight, he could only dream.
Chapter Five
The church was small, the exterior a testimony to cleanliness that spoke well for the young minister and his wife. Even as the pastor swept the doorstep, his pretty helpmate moved to enter the building through the doorway behind him, a bouquet of flowers cradled in her arms. The young man did not resemble a minister, Lily thought, being clothed in overalls and a striped cotton shirt. She had become accustomed to a more formal representative of the church back home, a man who seldom busied himself with the upkeep of the building of which he was in charge.
“Good morning.” His greeting was cheery, she thought as she smiled in response, leaving it to Morgan to set the stage for the proceedings.
“We heard we might find you cleaning house,” Morgan answered. “I asked at the general store about a church where we might be married this morning, and they advised me to come in this direction. Said I’d probably find you here on a Saturday morning.”
“Mary? Come on out here,” the young man called, leaning through the church door to where the flowers had disappeared only moments ago. He turned back to Morgan. “What a surprise. We’ll even have flowers on the altar table for the occasion,” he said warmly. “Mary raids her garden every Saturday and strips it almost bare. Somehow by the next week she finds her supply replenished. It’s made a believer out of her,” he said with a smile that made Lily chuckle.
“What is it, Ray?” Behind him, his wife halted in the doorway and then hurried toward Lily, hand outstretched. “Good morning.” The words almost bubbled from her, so warm was her welcome.
“These folks want to get married, honey.” The young pastor set aside his broom and wiped his hands on his overalls. “I suppose I should go and change my clothes first.”
“No need,” Morgan told him quickly. “We don’t have a lot of time to linger here. I think you’ll do just fine the way you are. So long as we can record the marriage in your church records. We want everything legal and aboveboard, don’t we, Lily?” His look in her direction was that of a man longing to own the title of husband.
Morgan acting as the expectant bridegroom was almost too much for Lily to swallow, and she could only nod affably and offer a smile at his words. The man was set on making an impression, it seemed, making sure they would be remembered in this town.
“I can do more than that for you,” the minister said. “I have a stack of marriage certificates, just arrived from a printing house in Saint Louis the other day. They look kinda fancy. Makes it more of an occasion, I always think, if you’ve got something to hang on the wall and pass along to your children one day.”
Lily swallowed her denial of that particular idea and nodded again. This was Morgan’s show. She’d let him manage it as he pleased. And he no doubt would have anyway, she thought soberly. He was a man who was obviously used to taking charge and running things as he saw fit. She’d be hard put to have a say in much of anything once this day was over and he was truly her husband.
For a moment she froze in place, and then felt the weight of Morgan’s arm against her shoulders as he claimed her attention. His eyes glittered like polished steel, the gray turning almost to silver as he shot her a warning glance. “Smile,” he murmured, in a tone that carried no farther than her ear. “Act like this is the most wonderful day of your life, Lily.”
And it might very well be, she thought darkly. Who knew what the future might bring? An accommodating twitch of her lips met his demand and his voice rose a notch. “Lily and I are hoping for a large family some day, parson. But we’ll need to make this a real marriage first, I believe.” He turned back to Lily. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she cooed, smiling sweetly for his benefit.
“Well, I’m glad I got here early,” the minister said earnestly. “The inside of the church is ready for Sunday service and we’re pretty much spick-and-span.” He ushered them inside the small sanctuary and paused. “It’s plain but it’s a real church, sir,” he told Morgan. “I always say every couple should marry in God’s presence, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I certainly hold to that belief,” Morgan said earnestly. Lily stifled the urge to laugh aloud at his droll acceptance of the minister’s view. And then she looked into Morgan’s face and changed her mind. The man looked as sober as a judge, she decided. As if this were indeed an occasion to be celebrated properly. She’d thought the whole marriage idea was her own, but now it seemed that Morgan was not being dragged into it, kicking and fighting for his life to continue as a single man.
In moments they were standing front and center before the minister and his wife, the scent of flowers surrounding them and the luminous glow that shone through the window over the altar encircling them in a golden frame of sunshine. The moment was suddenly solemn and Lily shivered.
This is the real thing. I’m going to marry Gage Morgan, right here and now.
“I fear I haven’t learned your names yet,” the minister said quietly, his demeanor that of a man of the cloth, even though he resembled more closely a farmer just in from the field.
“Gage Morgan and Lily Devereaux,” Morgan told him.
“Actually my name is Yvon
ne Lilianne Devereaux,” Lily said quickly. “Although I’m called Lily.”
“Well, we’ll make sure it’s legal and binding on your marriage certificate,” she was told. “But for the ceremony itself, we’ll go by the name you prefer.”
She nodded and then stood silently next to the man who was about to take control of her future. As if he sensed her hesitation, he grasped her hand in his, his fingers long and tapered, his grip firm. His palm was callused, and she felt her fingers curl inside it, as if she sought a haven there.
The words of the ceremony were brief and to the point. She made the proper responses when prompted by the minister, and in short order heard him speak the final words that turned her into a woman who would be called, henceforth, Lily Morgan.
“Would you like to kiss your bride?” The words spoken by the minister caused her to look upward into Morgan’s face. His gaze glittered from between narrowed lids, his mouth was hard and unyielding as he pressed it against hers, and his arms bound her against him with a fierce possessiveness she knew she could not have escaped, had she tried.
It seemed Morgan took this business of marriage very seriously indeed. His lips softened after a moment and she was aware that his grip loosened, freeing her from the cage of long arms that encircled her. His eyes met hers and she thought his expression changed for just a moment, a touch of satisfaction edging the mouth that whispered her name.
“Lily? Do you feel married?” he asked, and then bent again to press another, more tender kiss against her lips.
What she felt was apprehension, she decided, even as she recognized the desire he made no effort to conceal from her. His nostrils flared a bit, as if he inhaled a scent that intrigued him, and a dark line of color ridged his cheekbones.
“Thank you, Parson,” he said quietly as he turned Lily, holding her in front of him. “If you’ll ready our certificate, we’ll be on our way.”
“Won’t you stay for some coffee? I have a fresh pan of cinnamon rolls, just out of the oven,” the young wife said. “It wouldn’t be any trouble at all. We haven’t had very many weddings here. We need to celebrate this one properly.”
The Marriage Agreement Page 7