The Marriage Agreement

by Carolyn Davidson

  “Maybe,” Lily admitted. “But I won’t be here long. Maybe just sleep in the barn till tomorrow.”

  “I already told you that barn ain’t fit to sleep in. Especially not a woman like you.” Agnes rose and poured two cups of coffee from the pot on the stove. “You look like the kind who likes cream in her coffee,” she said.

  “I can take it either way,” Lily said. “If there’s cream, I’ll have some.”

  Agnes placed a pitcher on the table. “I kept some out when I churned this morning. My man likes it on his apple tart.”

  “You baked apple tarts?” Lily asked, then blushed as she recognized the tone of longing that tinged her words.

  “Yeah, I did,” Agnes said smugly. “Best you ever ate, I’ll warrant. I’ve got a mess of dried apples left from last year, down in the fruit cellar. I manage to keep the mice away by hangin’ them up in bags from the ceiling.”

  And wasn’t that a lovely thought. Lily forced a smile to her lips. “I’ll wait and have mine later, too,” she said. “As it is, I feel guilty eating the food you cooked for your husband.”

  “Fat chance of that,” Agnes said. “I always make plenty. Sometimes we have folks drop by.” She leaned back in her chair and assumed a casual posture. “Don’t suppose anyone will be lookin’ to find you here, will they?”

  “I doubt it,” Lily said. “How far are you from town?”

  “Sand Creek? Not far. Once in a while the sheriff comes by to let us know what’s goin’ on hereabout. Haven’t seen him for a week or so though. Last I heard, he was hot on the trail of some fellas tryin’ to rook folks out of their property. We been watchin’ out pretty close, but from what Caine said, they’re only buyin’ up land closer to the river, where the road runs.”

  “I heard that some rich men up north are planning to put a railroad through here,” Lily said.

  “Well, whoever’s been causin’ trouble, I think Caine will keep it under control. He’s a good man.”

  Lily agreed silently with the woman’s assessment, and in a few moments had eaten the last of the stew on her plate. “Thanks,” she said, the single word sincere in its meaning. “I was hungrier than I thought.”

  “I got an extra bed,” Agnes said. “Take your bag on into the second room back there and take a nap, why don’t you?”

  The thought was tempting, and Lily managed to fight the allure of the woman’s offer for less than a minute. “All right,” she said. “I believe I will.”

  The bed was a bit lumpy, but the pillow was soft and cushioned her head, tempting her to close her eyes. It wasn’t until the sun was low in the west that she awoke, her ears attuned to the sound of men’s voices in the kitchen just beyond where she lay.

  “…a pretty woman, dark hair and traveling on foot.”

  Lily sat upright, her heart pounding, her throat almost closing in terror. If the voice she heard wasn’t that of the lawman from Sand Creek, it would be a small wonder. And if he wasn’t describing her, she’d be ready to admit to another miracle. Not that she’d ever considered herself pretty, but there were enough looks from men cast in her direction to give her the knowledge that she was not hard to look at.

  “Haven’t seen anybody like that,” Agnes said loudly. “What you want her for, Sheriff? Is she in trouble of some sort?”

  “No, not really. Just that her husband is looking for her. He’s pretty well frantic, worrying about her. She’s been gone since right after noontime.”

  “Hmm…” Agnes mused. “Was he harsh with her? Why would a woman leave a man who was treatin’ her right?”

  “Any man as worried as Morgan is right now thinks pretty highly of his woman, to my way of thinking,” Caine said firmly. “He’s out scouring the countryside. He’s afraid she’s been hurt or someone might be holding her.”

  “I doubt it. There’s not many folks hereabouts who’d take advantage of a woman alone,” Agnes said.

  Lily heard the scrape of a chair against the floor, and then Caine’s voice sounded from farther away. “Well, if you see her, tell her her husband’s wanting to know that she’s all right.” There was a long pause, and then Caine spoke again, his voice lower as if he hesitated to admit his doubts.

  “You sure you haven’t seen her, Mrs. Morley?” And then silence met her ears as Lily strained to hear the reply. “All right,” Caine said quietly. “Just remember, give her a message if you see her.”

  “I’ll do that,” Agnes said. The sound of another man’s voice meshed with Caine’s as if the two men walked outdoors together, and Lily stood back from the door, hesitant to face the woman in the kitchen. She didn’t have long to wait. The bedroom door opened fully and Agnes stood before her.

  “I kinda thought you heard that,” she said. “I wasn’t too far off, was I, Lily?”

  “He told you my name?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Said a man named Gage Morgan was out lookin’ for his wife, Lily. And I figured right off she was hidin’ out in my spare bedroom.”

  “Why didn’t you tell him I was here?”

  “If you’d wanted him to know, I suspect you could have come on out and told him yourself,” Agnes said bluntly. “When you didn’t, I figured you didn’t want to be found.”

  “Thank you.” She turned away and found her valise. “I won’t stay any longer, Agnes. I won’t put you in the position of lying to protect me.”

  “Well, if you go trottin’ out there right now, my husband is gonna see you and he’ll probably take off after Caine and let him know you’re here. I’d say you better stick around till morning.” She paused and eyed Lily closely. “Unless you’re havin’ second thoughts about runnin’ off.”

  “Second and third,” Lily admitted. “But I think it’s for the best.”

  And that was how she came to tell Agnes her story. Alone in the kitchen, they shared more coffee, and Lily found the words rolling from her lips, offering details to another person that she’d thought never to share with anyone in her lifetime. Certainly more than she’d ever told Morgan. “I couldn’t stay with him, not when I realized he was trying very carefully to back off from our agreement,” she said, wiping her tears on the third square of cotton fabric Agnes had offered.

  “Why don’t you give him the choice? Not that I’m one to be giving advice, you understand,” the woman said quickly. “But he cares about you, Lily. Did he ever hurt you? Take advantage of you? Other than takin’ you to bed, I mean. And that’s what men are prone to do, you know. Even a good man, like Gage Morgan seems to be.” She hesitated a moment and then rephrased her words. “Especially a man like him.”

  Her head tilted to one side and she grinned knowingly. “He sounds like a real humdinger to me.”

  Lily could not conceal the smile that greeted Agnes’s summation of him. “He is,” she admitted.

  “Then why don’t you go find him and let him make things right between you?”

  “I told you,” Lily said. “He thinks I’ve been with more men than you can shake a stick at. And he doesn’t want to hear the truth.” She paused and looked out the window where darkness was falling across the horizon. “He doesn’t want to care for me.”

  “I think he already does,” Agnes surmised. “And I think you oughta give him the chance to prove it.”

  “I don’t want you in trouble with your husband,” Lily said, dubious over the plan they’d hatched, right after breakfast. Unaware of her presence in his house, Agnes’s husband had headed to the barn, leaving the women to put the plot in motion.

  “I told you, Jeremiah doesn’t tie any strings on me, girl. When I told him I was takin’ the buggy to town, he just gave me a wave and told me to leave him some food on the back of the stove.”

  “But you’re probably not going to be back tonight,” Lily protested. “And he’ll be expecting you by dark, I’m sure. If you’re taking me south farther than Sand Creek, you’ll do well to get back by tomorrow.”

  “And when I tell him what I did, he’ll come close to ha
ving a hissy,” Agnes agreed. “But it’ll be too late then to do much about it, won’t it? Besides, if we get rolling, I may be back here right soon after dark. This standin’ around talkin’ about it ain’t doing any good so far as I can see.”

  Lily nodded in reluctant agreement and tossed her valise into the buggy. She climbed to the seat and shoved the bag beneath it, stowing it out of the way. In moments, Agnes was picking up the reins, and the horse was setting off at a fast trot toward town.

  A trail headed south before they reached Sand Creek, a seldom used branch of the main road, and Agnes turned the buggy there. “This cuts off a few miles, and we won’t be going through town this way,” she explained. “I know a woman who lives almost at the edge of Brightmoor, down the river a ways. I bet she’ll put you up for the night and then see to it you get into town tomorrow.”

  “She won’t mind?” Lily asked, her stomach churning as she recognized the finality of the choices she’d made. The chances of Morgan finding her now were pretty slim, unless he dragged out that old Wanted poster and showed it around.

  “I don’t think so,” Agnes said cheerfully, snapping the reins over the mare’s back and urging the animal into a faster pace.

  Her prediction was accurate, and Lily found herself ensconced in another unfamiliar bed when night fell. Agnes was well on her way home, shushing Lily’s fears that she would not arrive there before dark.

  “I’ve been taking care of myself for a lot of years,” Agnes had said, hugging Lily to her bosom. She held her off and looked her over with a gimlet eye. “You think about what I told you, understand? That man ain’t all bad. I’ll guarantee it.”

  Sleep came quickly, Lily worn out from the past days’ experiences. When morning arrived, her hostess provided her with breakfast and pointed her toward town, waving her a last farewell as Lily trod the lane that led from the farmhouse.

  Brightmoor was a fanciful name for a town, she decided, as she passed a freshly painted sign that announced the town limits. Larger than Sand Creek, it was the county seat, according to the sign, and held a wide arrangement of stores and establishments. Though her pocket held little ready cash, Lily felt certain she could always sell her silver combs, should the need arise. And with that in mind, she strolled past the general store, casting a quick look inside its doors, and then to the hotel.

  “How much for a room?” she asked the desk clerk.

  He looked down at the single tapestry bag she carried, and she thought his brow lifted in a haughty fashion. “You’re traveling alone?” he asked, and at her nod of agreement, he looked long and hard at the registry in front of him.

  “I don’t think I have any single rooms left,” he said after a moment and with another disapproving survey of her dusty apparel and her lack of hat and gloves.

  “Well, I’ll just bet you do.” The voice came from behind Lily, the syllables spoken in well-remembered tones, and she turned in surprise. May Kettering stood there, her smile wide, her arms held open in welcome.

  “Miss Kettering? Is this a friend of yours?” the desk clerk said, his tone having taken a decidedly respectful touch. “I’m certain we can make arrangements for her to stay with us, if you’ll just give me a minute.” Clearly flustered, he fussed with the keys hanging on the wall and as he turned back, one in hand, May waved a hand at him in dismissal as she gathered Lily to her bosom.

  “Miss Devereaux will be staying with me,” she said firmly, her chin held at an arrogant angle, her arm around Lily’s waist.

  Either unwilling or unable to dispute her assertion, the young man only nodded his head as May gripped her guest firmly by her elbow, towing her toward the side staircase that centered the lobby.

  “Don’t drag your feet, girl,” she said glibly, smiling with a flash of white teeth that could have charmed a whole roomful of men, and as Lily well remembered, often had. They reached the top of the stairs and May continued down the hallway before them, leaving Lily barely a moment to catch her breath.

  “What are you doing here?” May asked quietly, fitting her key into the door that proclaimed it as Room 201. The door opened readily and she shoved Lily over the threshold before her, following her inside with a glance down the hall.

  “What are you doing running around by yourself?” she asked, her all-encompassing look taking in Lily’s general air of dishevelment. “Where’s Morgan?”

  “Probably out looking for me,” she answered. “I left him a couple of days ago. The job I’d agreed to do was finished, and I decided it was best if I went the rest of the way on my own.”

  “You can’t be flitting from one place to the next that way,” May told her firmly. “I saw a poster with your name on it down at the jailhouse yesterday.”

  “What were you doing there?” Lily asked. “Checking up on me?” And then she lifted a hand in apology. “Forget I said that, May. I didn’t mean it.” She looked toward the empty bed and her shoulders slumped. “I’m just so tired, I don’t know what to do next.”

  “Well, I can figure that out for you easy enough,” May said quickly. “You put your body down there and take a nap while I figure out what we’re gonna do with you. I’m thinking the best place for you is right out in plain sight, Lily. Let me work on this while you rest a bit, and then we’ll make plans.”

  Without a word of argument, Lily stumbled to the bed. It wasn’t so much that she was physically tired, she thought wearily, but the fact that she’d about run out of steam. The impetus that had spurred her on that first day on her own was fast wearing thin, and she thought of Morgan’s strength with a sense of longing.

  The pillow was soft and she curled on her side, falling asleep before May left the room. Outside the window, twilight fell and the noise from the saloon across the street became too loud to ignore. Lily rose from the bed and stood at the window. Horses lined up at the hitching rail in front of the saloon, and men slapped the swinging doors with regularity. Most of them entered, adding to the level of racket that spoke of customers enjoying their leisure.

  “You awake?” May came in the door, closing it behind her and leaning against the solid surface. “I’m heading out to the saloon,” she said. “Thought I’d check on you first, make sure you were all right.”

  “I’m fine,” Lily assured her. She waved a hand at the window. “The saloon across the street?” she asked. “Is that where you’re singing now?”

  “Busiest place in town,” May said with a smile of satisfaction. “Boss there pays good money, and it sure beats riding on that damn boat, up and down the river. Thought I’d never get on dry land again there for a while.”

  “I’m surprised Ham Scott let you go so easily,” Lily said, and then rued her words as May’s mouth tightened.

  “He was pushing for more than I was willing to offer,” May said. “The man was talkin’ marriage. Can you believe that?”

  “There’s no insult in that,” Lily told her quietly.

  “I’ll not tie myself to any man, not ever again,” May said stoutly. “I walked off that boat and never looked back. Just a few days ago, in fact. Heard about this place from one of the gamblers, said they were lookin’ for a singer.” Her grin was pleased. “They like me, even if they don’t understand half of what I sing to them. The boss man says I give his place class. How about that?”

  “I agree with the boss man,” Lily told her. “You’re too good for a place like this, May. I’ll bet you sang on stage sometime or another, didn’t you?”

  Her eyes darkened as May considered the query, and then she nodded. “I did, until I got lost in the bottom of a bottle. I let a man too close and he walked away. Left me hanging high and dry, and, fool that I was, I thought I could forget him. I did, too—every time I got drunk, that booze washed him right out of my mind.”

  “So you quit the stage?” Lily prompted.

  “Or the stage quit me,” May said, her smile weary. “Ham Scott gave me a job and it worked out all right for a time. Then I decided I was better off mo
ving on.”

  She shook herself and glanced out the window. “I’d better be shakin’ a leg, Lily. It’s past time for me to appear over there. I want you to stay inside tonight. Don’t show your face downstairs. I’ll send up a boy with some supper for you, but you stay out of sight. I’ve got an idea that might hold water. We’ll talk later.”

  And with that she was gone.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Is that a wig?” Lily asked, stunned as May brought a carefully wrapped package from her trunk. The golden hair was wavy, flowing across May’s arm as she held it aloft.

  “Most expensive piece of hair I’ve ever owned,” she said, touching it with reverence. “I wouldn’t offer it to just anybody, Lily. But I think you’d do well to give it a try, see how it looks on you.”

  “Whatever for?” Lily asked, perplexed, even as the idea of placing the hairpiece atop her head intrigued her. Everyone in her family had dark hair, and she’d known a bit of envy as other girls in the community flaunted their golden locks in her face. Mama had always said that her daughter had the looks of a French woman, daring and attractive to menfolk.

  Lily had certainly proved that right, the day the Yankee colonel had taken one look and decided she would be his for the taking. Back then, when he’d made his offer, and she’d traded her body for the plantation home’s safety, she’d wished futilely that she was homely, that her slender form and curving bosom had not drawn his eye.

  She shunned the memory, knowing it brought only pain. “You want me to put it on?” she asked May. “Do you think no one will recognize me with blond hair?”

  “That’s the idea,” May returned. “I talked to the boss at the saloon, told him a friend of mine was here and I offered to share the stage with you. He’s willing to pay if the fellas like you, Lily. And he doesn’t expect any more from you than that. Just sing a little and let the men listen to you.”

  “May, I can’t begin to compete with your talent,” Lily said quietly. “I’d feel out of place.”

  “Well,” May began, settling in the chair. “I thought maybe we could do a couple of the duets we worked on while you were singing for Ham Scott. If you’d like to try, it would earn you some money, maybe set you up a little better, so you’re not scraping the bottom of the barrel when you hit the road again.”