“You’d do that for me?” Lily asked, feeling hot tears spring to her eyes.
“Sure I would, honey. You’ve got a strong voice and you make me sound good. Can’t beat that combination with a big stick. Want to give it a try?”
The wig changed her appearance. There was no doubt that her golden complexion belonged to a dark-haired woman, but paired with the hair that May wound into an intricate fashion, Lily’s features became exotic, and she viewed herself in the mirror with pleasure. Her dark eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed.
“I really look different, don’t I?” she asked, leaning forward to twitch at a curl that drooped over her forehead.
“Don’t mess with that,” May said sharply, swatting at Lily’s hand. “I just got it to where it looks like a man has touched you and tousled you a bit. Makes you appear more approachable.”
“All right,” Lily said agreeably. “If approachable is what you want, then I’m willing to give it a shot.”
“Come on,” May told her. “We’ll walk over and see the piano player. He oughta be out of bed by now. We’ll see if he can play for us.”
The man was only too willing to provide the accompaniment May asked for, and with a few stops and starts as they refreshed their memories, the two women put together a credible performance. The owner of the saloon sat at a table in the corner and watched, a cigar held in his hand, the smoke rising to hover over his head.
“That’s fine, May,” he said finally as their impromptu concert came to an end. “What does this young lady plan on wearing? The dress she has on…” His voice trailed off as he scanned Lily’s cotton frock. “Well, it just won’t make it alongside of what you wear.”
“I know that,” May said soothingly. “I’ve got something she can get into. She’s got a lot less meat on her bones, but I’ve got a needle and thread. We’ll put it together by tonight.” She waited expectantly as the man’s cigar flared, and then took his nod as approval of her scheme.
“Come on, Lily. We’ve got work to do,” she said in an undertone, leading the way from the saloon, across the street to the hotel. “Let’s have a bite to eat first before we decide on which dress you’re gonna wear.”
The restaurant in the hotel was plain but the food served was more than adequate. Lily was reminded of the meal Morgan had purchased for them on another evening, and recalled the night they’d spent in that small hotel. She’d felt warm and safe with him.
Now she knew a moment of uncertainty, thinking of the hours ahead, when she would once more be on display to a roomful of men. May would look after her, of that there was no doubt, and for a few days she might be able to sing enough to earn hard cash. Cash enough to pay for the rest of her journey, so that sleeping in a barn would not be an issue.
“Eat up,” May said, watching as Lily pushed the meat and vegetables around on her plate. “My stuff will never fit you if you don’t get some meat on your bones, girl.”
Lily smiled at the gibe and set to with a show of enthusiasm, cleaning her plate with an effort, but in truth enjoying the meal. “All right, now let’s see what I can do with a needle and thread,” she told May, lifting her coffee cup to her lips as the waitress cleared away their plates.
The choice lay among three gowns, and Lily had no hesitation in choosing one of brilliant blue, a satin creation that clung to her form. She put it on inside out and turned in a slow circle as May pinned the areas that would need to be adjusted for fit. Then she stood still as May’s head tilted to one side and she offered Lily a complete once-over.
“That thing looks better on you than it ever did on me,” May said, brushing the skirt so that it fell more smoothly. “Come on and get out of it, so we can get busy with the hem, and then work on the darts.”
Lily had done her share of sewing as a young girl, her mother firmly believing that a lady should always know how to keep her family well dressed. Although they had servants in the house to do the mending and ironing, Lily had followed her mother’s example and learned how to do fine stitching. Today that knowledge came in handy, and May’s lifted eyebrow silently expressed her admiration for Lily’s talent.
The dress was finished before suppertime, and placed across the bed, so that it would not wrinkle. Lily donned the wig again before they went down to the dining room for a quick meal, and then it was time to dress for work.
She stood before the oval mirror in the corner of May’s room and viewed her image. If she hadn’t known the details of her features, been so familiar with her eyes and mouth and the lines of her figure, she’d not have recognized the female who looked back at her from the looking glass.
“Is that really me?” The soft murmur of disbelief made May laugh aloud as she stood behind Lily. Her smile was triumphant as she tweaked a few curls in place and then ordered Lily to turn to face her while she applied a touch of rouge to the ridge of her high cheekbones.
“You’ll do, I’d say,” May said, pronouncing her work a triumph. “No one would ever recognize you as the woman on a Wanted poster, Lily.” She held out a lacy shawl she’d dug from her stash of fancy apparel and placed it over the blue dress. “Let’s go before you get cold feet.”
The evening hours went by in a rush, Lily singing three times with May, hearing the men clap and cheer and stamp their feet in approval as the two women left the stage and retired to a table in a corner. That they were the object of stares and obvious speculation from the men in the audience was apparent, but May ignored the sidelong glances and Lily took her cue from the more experienced woman.
“They won’t bother you, once they figure out that you’re not looking for a man,” May told her. “Just smile real nice, kinda like you like them all and can’t pick out one to concentrate on.”
And so Lily did just that, allowing her smile to touch faces that responded to the gentle curl of her lips, to the songs she sang, her voice harmonizing with May’s higher tones. She sang as she’d never sung before, as if the disguise she wore gave her permission to leave her fears behind, allowing the full range of emotion she felt to be expressed in the music she sang.
It was well after midnight when they crossed the street to the hotel again, and Lily was weary as she took off the blue gown and spread it over a chair so that it would not be wrinkled. Carefully, she removed her golden hair, and watched as May placed it on tissue paper. Then without another word she slid her nightgown over her head and stretched out on the bed.
“You did well,” May said, lifting the sheet to lie beside her. “This is going to work out just fine, Lily.”
“Do you think it’s safe to use my right name?” Lily asked.
“I only said you were Lily,” May told her. “Even the boss doesn’t know your last name. I told him you go by Lily, and that’s it.”
“I think they liked me.” It was a contented murmur as Lily closed her eyes, and the last thing she heard was May’s chuckle as sleep overtook her.
“Nope, I haven’t seen that woman,” the lawman said, looking down at the torn bit of paper. “Where’d you get the picture anyway?” He looked up suspiciously at Morgan. “It’s not from a poster, is it?”
“Just a drawing of my wife,” Morgan said, skirting the query neatly.
“Well, if she’s in Brightmoor, I sure haven’t seen her,” the sheriff said firmly. “I don’t know of anyone new in town, and I’d certainly recognize that face if I’d seen it. She’s a real beauty, ain’t she?”
“Yeah,” Morgan agreed. “Unforgettable, you could say.”
He’d hoped for some sign of recognition in the man’s face. Surely this must be the route Lily would travel, the most direct way to where she’d said her home was located. He didn’t have any specifics as to the name of the plantation where she’d been raised, but it made sense that she’d stick to the well-traveled roads to get there. A woman alone was more vulnerable away from civilization.
And if he’d had his head on straight, she wouldn’t be in this fix right now, he reminded hims
elf. He shouldn’t have trusted her to stay put, should have realized that she was primed to run from him. He’d pushed her almost to the limit of her endurance. Lily had offered herself to him and he’d taken the gift, and then trampled her feelings with his angry words. Words he’d give much to recall.
I shouldn’t have married you. He’d made the statement so glibly, and even though he regretted the words spoken, it was the truth. Using Lily for his own pleasure was unforgivable. She was too soft, too fine…too vulnerable for a man like Gage Morgan to run roughshod over.
“I’ll stay at the hotel for tonight,” he told the lawman. “If you should remember anything, get in touch with me there.”
“Yes, sir,” the man told him. It wasn’t often he had a government man come through town, Morgan realized. His willingness to oblige was obvious.
The hotel had vacant rooms and Morgan paid for one for the night, then went into the dining room and settled at a table. The waitress eyed him with an inviting smile, but he was oblivious to her, only ordering the special, then sitting back to wait for its arrival before him. It was fried chicken, and immediately he thought of the chicken he’d eaten with Lily, remembered her distaste at the thought of killing the creature.
He ate slowly, his mind recalling the hours and days spent with the woman he’d married. And now he was on her trail—and for what? To ship her off home to her family and walk away again? He’d told her that after this mess was over, he’d take care of the colonel in New York City. And that promise had totally slipped his mind.
He smiled. He’d use that as a lure, once he found her. Surely Lily would want to stick around long enough to gain some small revenge on the man who’d brought such sadness to her life. He was totally selfish when it came to Lily, he decided, plotting ways to entangle her once again in his web.
Leaving a folded bill on the table, he made his way to the staircase and then up to his room. The brass numbers on the door designated it as Room 203, and he slid the key into the lock with ease. From the next room to his, from behind the closed door, a woman laughed, a joyous sound that made him flinch. Probably with a man, he thought. And then entered his own room, closing the door behind himself.
A low murmur of voices touched his ear and he recognized the tones as feminine, and then listened as the women left the room, closing the door with an audible sound and walking down the uncarpeted hallway, their shoes tapping softly as they moved along toward the staircase.
He lowered himself to the bed, looked to where the obliging desk clerk had left his bag in the corner, and in moments had closed his eyes. The sound of music roused him, but he pulled the second pillow over his head and went back to sleep. He could have used a drink, he supposed, though he rarely indulged. But it would be a long day tomorrow and sitting in a saloon went against his grain.
The sound of soft voices roused him again and he surmised it was the women from the next room, returning from a night of revelry. He smiled, remembering the last time he’d heard women performing in a saloon, and the thought of Lily’s slender throat and the firm lines of her breasts beneath the dress she wore on that long-ago night. The memory brought him fully awake and he rolled to his back and looked up at the ceiling.
The voices stilled and he heard the creak of the bed in the next room. Apparently there wasn’t a man there, just two women, perhaps ladies of the night, though neither of them seemed to be plying their trade tonight. Maybe he’d stay one more day, ask around a bit more before he headed south again. His eyelids drooped and he fell asleep, still wearing his clothes, uncaring of his comfort.
He rose early and ate, then spent the day visiting nearby farmers and stopping to ask the shopkeepers if they’d seen Lily. Receiving only a denial of any knowledge of the woman, he grew discouraged with his quest, though most of the folks he spoke with appeared to genuinely want to help. With no reason to dispute their memories, he conceded defeat and returned to the hotel.
A bath and a session with the razor made him feel measurably better, and he donned clean clothing before he set out for a meal.
“You goin’ to hear the new singers at the saloon?” the waitress asked him as she poured his second cup of coffee.
“Hadn’t planned on it,” he said easily, leaning back to give her room. And then his ear perked up. “New singers?” he asked.
“Well, one of them has been there for a few days, the other one just started last night. I heard from several of my customers that they’re a real treat to the eyes, if you know what I mean,” she said with a grin. “And they can sing right well, too.”
“Might be a good idea to drop by,” Morgan said easily, drawn to the idea, even as a glimmer of hope came to life within him.
He finished his coffee and strolled across the street, entering the saloon and seeking out a spot where he might nurse a drink and watch the comings and goings at his leisure. A scantily dressed woman brought him a drink, and then at his smile and the subtle shake of his head, she deserted his table for richer pickings.
Morgan sipped reflectively at the whiskey, noting it was well watered, and appreciating the fact. He didn’t want to stand a chance of drinking in a strange town and putting himself at the mercy of any stray man who might be looking for an easy touch. It was fully dark outside when the piano player changed the rhythm of his music and began a song that rang a bell in Morgan’s mind.
Not the usual fare for a saloon, he thought, and then sat upright as he recognized the woman who stepped from the wings of the tiny stage to saunter toward the paying customers.
May Kettering. I’ll be damned. He leaned back in his chair and listened as her voice rose in the melody that he’d recognized. Around him, the men quieted as she began, and by the time she’d gotten to the end, her audience was hushed, watching her avidly, as if they had been charmed by the music.
“Not the usual thing for a saloon, is it?” The owner of the bar stood behind Morgan’s table and issued his query in an undertone. “I didn’t think it would go over, but damn if the customers don’t like her high-falutin’ stuff.”
“I’ve heard her before,” Morgan ventured, his gaze fixed on May as she dropped her head in recognition of the applause. “She’s got a good voice.”
“Wait till you hear her singin’ with the other one.”
“Other one?” Morgan fought the urge to turn around, controlled the slight tremble of his fingers as he raised the whiskey to lips that had suddenly gone dry. “You’ve got two singers?”
“Yeah, some friend of May’s. Came into town a couple of days ago. Kinda shy, doesn’t say much, but she can charm the birds out of the trees with that smile. They make a good pair, both of them with yellow hair and voices that make you think good thoughts.” He laughed, as if embarrassed by his own words, and walked away, leaving Morgan with his glass halfway to his lips.
Both of them with yellow hair. That let Lily out of the picture, he decided, settling his glass back on the table. He watched as May sang again, and then heard her speak, bringing instantaneous stillness to the men assembled before her.
“Y’all liked my friend last night, and she’s agreed to sing with me again. She won’t be in town long, so you’d better listen to her while you’ve got the chance.” She turned to the wing offstage, and with an expansive gesture of one hand, announced the woman who stepped upon the boards and allowed a smile to touch her lips.
“Here’s Lily, gentlemen.” Her voice became sultry as she lowered its volume and whispered a suggestion they seemed to embrace. “Enjoy.”
The music from the piano changed tempo and the chords rolled from beneath the player’s fingers in an introduction that the two women greeted with a smile, May tossing a kiss from her fingertips to the piano player, as if he pleased her enormously. And then they sang.
If Morgan hadn’t heard them before, hadn’t known the effect they would have on the men sitting before them, he’d have been enthralled. As it was he simply fumed. His Lily was all dolled up in a blond wig, her love
ly dark hair covered by a piece of froufrou that was no doubt from May’s collection.
And yet, even the golden hair, curled and arranged with seduction in mind, could not detract from the shimmering beauty that radiated from Lily’s face as she sang. She met May’s gaze and smiled, looked out at the audience and offered a wave of her hand as she opened her arms to include them in her music. She sang with innocence, with an appreciation for the words and music that made Morgan’s heart ache, even as his anger built to enormous proportions.
The women left the stage, and the sound level rose as the men went back to their card-playing and general carousing. Morgan settled back in his dark corner and nursed another drink along as the night spun past. In less than an hour the two women reappeared and sang again to uproarious applause. And still Morgan waited, his patience endless, it seemed.
Just before midnight they stepped onto the stage again, and he noted faint circles under Lily’s eyes, as if she had been too long away from a decent bed. Damn, he was ready to wring her neck. Fool woman. It was a wonder she’d made it this far without coming to harm. The music interrupted his thoughts and he listened throughout their final session. May blew kisses to the crowd, promising to see them the next evening, and then they were gone.
Morgan knew exactly where they were heading.
“You go on up,” May told Lily. “I’m going to talk to the hotel manager if I can locate him. I need to find out if my room is available for the next week or so. If he gives me a decent price, I’ll just stay on here. Otherwise I’ll find another place to hang my hat.”
“All right.” Lily gripped the banister firmly and trod the steps, her feet weary from long hours in the high-heeled shoes she wore. Even though she’d worn such extravagant bits of leather on the riverboat, she was still unaccustomed to having her toes pinched in such narrow footwear.
The Marriage Agreement Page 19