“David, no, you’ll break—” the lid popped open, “—it.”
He whistled, long and low. “Hello secrets.”
11th Hour Rose
Three
Lilly quickly circled behind David for a glimpse inside the chest. “Oh, my.” She quickly stooped beside him. “I hadn’t expected this.”
“Nor I,” he murmured.
Three gold double eagles sat atop several folded envelopes and loose sheets of paper. A few personal knick-knacks and a leather bound book also occupied the trunk.
“Where the hell did she come by these?”
Lilly reached into the box and plucked one of the twenty-dollar gold pieces from its hiding place. “We may never know.” The date 1849 winked at her from the coin’s shiny surface. “This may explain her new gown though.”
Davy lifted the leather bound book and unwound the strings holding it closed. He leafed through a few pages. “It’s a journal. Ah… here we are. The last couple of entries speak of an admirer sending her small gifts and notes.”
“Does she mention a name?”
“I don’t think she knew who he was.” He pointed to a specific spot on the page. “Here she is speculating who might be sending her gifts.” He flipped the page and barked with laughter. “She wonders if Deputy Whitfield is her admirer.”
Lilly chuckled as well. “Jesse Whitfield seems a bit… dull witted for romantic gestures. Bless his heart.”
Davy scoffed. “To say the least.”
“Does she mention anything of the new gown?”
Davy leafed through a few more pages. “Nothing, but we should pay a visit to the seamstress shop to speak with Mrs. Bridger anyhow.”
Lilly quirked a questioning brow. “We?”
“I don’t have time to see you home and out of trouble,” he answered succinctly.
Lilly swallowed her annoyance. Never mind that she’d suggested speaking with the seamstress first. “What should we do with the gold pieces?”
Davy shut the lid on the box. “Give them to Mrs. Hatchet. She could certainly use the money, and she may have an idea where they came from.”
Lilly very much doubted that.
“We’ll take the rest of these letters and Clara’s journal for closer review.”
* * *
The visit to the seamstress shop told them little more than they’d already known. All of the murdered women had visited the seamstress shop a couple of days before being killed. Each girl had purchased a sky blue gown and later been slain in it.
Seated in the seamstress shop, Lilly and David conducted a tense interview.
“I wish I would have known to be suspicious.” Mrs. Bridger shrugged, and shifted her perch on the expensively upholstered chair. “With the festival coming up I assumed the girls wanted a new gown for the dancing.” A glassing of tears shone in the older woman’s eyes.
Lilly reached forward to pat her arm in reassurance.
“You had no idea, Mrs. Bridger,” Davy assured her. “However, speaking of suspicious behavior, did any of the women mention a man? Or have you noticed anyone loitering around the shop? Particularly a man?”
“No, I haven’t seen anyone or anything unusual.” Her chin quivered. “But then I haven’t thought to look.” The threesome lapsed into silence. The bell above the main door jingled, alerting them to the presence of a customer.
Davy stood, Lilly and Mrs. Bridger quickly followed suit. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Bridger, we won’t keep you any longer. If you think of or notice anything out of the ordinary, please contact me immediately.”
“Such as customers purchasing blue gowns?”
“Precisely.”
“I will, Marshal Langston, anything I can do to help.” Mrs. Bridger ushered them through the back door. “I wish you luck catching whoever did this to those poor girls.”
The door clicked shut and Lilly followed David across the blue-painted back porch.
“This is damn frustrating.” David sighed, striding across the back porch of the shop. He turned to Lilly and crossed strong arms over his thick chest. “What do you make of this?”
His eyes vibrant and almost unsettlingly blue locked on hers, and it took Lilly a moment to realize he was expecting an answer. “Why, David, are you asking my opinion?”
“This is your lead.” He flashed a crooked half smile that was surprisingly disarming.
She shook her head, drawing a steadying breath, and swept her eyes up the alley. “I think the killer is sending the girls to the seamstress shop, giving them money to buy the blue dress, and I would go so far as to bet he’s watching them.”
He nodded slowly, obviously deep in thought. Davy turned and stepped down one creaky wooden stair, and then another. Lilly trailed behind him.
Even standing a step above him the top of her head barely reached his chin. A remarkably strong chin, rather ruggedly attractive littered as it was with a spattering of dark whiskers… Mentally she shook off the train of thought. Why was she so suddenly aware of him as a man? Usually she couldn’t see past the veil of irritation he forever provoked. Moreover, she should be investigating a series of vicious crimes, not staring agog, or daydreaming over the perfect sapphire hue of his eyes.
“You did well today,” he said suddenly, sparking her attention away from the attractively broad set of his shoulders.
Surprised by the compliment, Lilly didn’t immediately respond. He faced her unexpectedly, lifting one booted foot to rest on the step she stood upon. At the same moment she began descending the old stairs.
They collided.
“Oh!” Lilly wobbled, grasping his upper arms for balance.
“Easy,” he murmured, sliding his palms low on her waist, preventing her from taking a tumble.
She gulped, all too aware of exactly how tall he was… the delicious tone of the muscles bunching beneath her fingertips, and the fact her hip rested against the knee cocked on the stair above him…
No!
She wanted to ignore the subtle hiccup in her pulse and the shivers licking her spine, but… she glanced up… David gazed down at her, expression uncharacteristically soft, the brim of his hat casting a slight shadow over them both. They stood so close, the rush of his breathing rolled over her cheeks and heat leapt from his strong chest. The intimacy of their combined stance left Lilly completely disarmed. What did it all mean?
Nothing.
It meant nothing. David was a handsome man, nothing more, and she certainly did not plan to waste the opportunity for him to take her seriously as an attorney. But, at the moment, Lilly had the distinct impression he wasn’t thinking of her as an attorney, or a thorn in his side.
He still held her. One broad palm rested easily on the curve of her waist while the other slid around the small of her back. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and her heart flew into record pace as heat rushed to her cheeks.
She quickly dropped her hands from his bulging biceps. “Forgive me, but a compliment from your lips shocked me right off the porch.”
David laughed, good humor evident in his manner as he released her and backed down the rest of the stairs. He held out a hand to assist her down the remaining steps. She accepted, enjoying this new side to him.
“I’ll escort you home now,” he said, falling into step beside her. “And I expect you to stay there and out of my investigation.”
Lilly’s irritation returned full measure. So much for his taking her seriously. “But you said I did well today.”
He scoffed. “You did well only after making a royal mess of the situation.”
“You never would have found Clara’s journal without me.”
“Perhaps,” David conceded with an indifferent shrug. “The next time I need to delve into the minds of romantically inclined girls, I’ll know exactly who to ask for help.”
Lilly bit her tongue—literally—doing her best to ignore the insult. They trekked the remaining distance to her home in silence. Frustrated, she cast him a sidelon
g glance. How could I ever have thought him attractive?
* * *
After depositing Lilly home with firm instructions to leave well enough alone, David hesitated outside the Hudson’s charming, yet modest home, debating his next course of action. He had no desire to visit his brother’s house for dinner and watch Craig dote on his beautiful wife and equally beautiful children. Davy simply wasn’t in the mood to be reminded of everything he’d lost. He could pay Christine a visit. The barren widow was a few years older than he, and they had a long standing relationship, but he wasn’t particularly in the mood for that either. He patted Lilly’s folded interview notes tucked inside his vest pocket. He supposed he could begin reviewing them this evening.
With a sigh, he glanced back over the neat white-washed fence enclosing the Hudson’s yard. Bright flowers, lilacs, and rose bushes decorated the lawn. The wooden bench swing in particular captured his attention creating a dull ache in his chest, entirely too close to the region of his heart. Nestled beneath a painted trellis with lacey green vines weaving through the wood slats, the swing portrayed a picturesque haven that begged passersby to step in and forget the world’s troubles. The attractive landscape was all due to Lilly, he knew. How many times had he spied her resting on the swing, a law book propped in her lap? The girl was a spinster in the making.
Sadness crept up within him. Spinster… Today the term seemed far less cliché in regard to Lilly. After learning of her Daniel, he understood her. How often had Davy thrown himself into work to keep memories of his wife at bay… of their child that had never had a chance?
He shook his head, striding brusquely away from the sheriff’s house. Best just to concentrate on work. He should be hearing about his transfer request any day now. Once he moved west this would all be a distant memory.
* * *
That evening Lilly entered her bedroom, exhausted, and more than ready for bed. She shook the pins loose from her hair and dragged her fingers through the length. She tossed the hair pins onto the vanity and walked hesitantly to the desk tucked in the corner by her closet.
Despite her irritation at David Langston for his reprimand, his voice rang through her ears. You should read that letter. Lilly swallowed, unable to banish the husky entreaty from her mind.
Slowly… reverently… she retrieved the retired journal from the locked drawer in her desk. She unwrapped the leather cords holding the volume closed and perched on the edge of her bed. Drawing a slow breath, she opened the book with unsteady hands. Daniel’s letter slipped from the back, falling face up in her lap.
Familiar block lettering stared up at her. Tears blurred her vision, making it impossible to read the tidy script. How she had longed for Daniel’s letters during the war, prayed for them every night. Dare she open this last missive and dredge up all the emotions, the hopes and dreams they’d shared until he’d marched off to fight and find glory?
She closed her eyes, trying to recall his face and the exact color of his eyes. Lovely eyes. A combination of green and blue with a hint of brown around the pupils. It had been so long, his visage hazy in her mind, but if she concentrated hard enough she could still see him sitting beside her on this very bed, his gray sleeve brushing the calico of her gown. He’d sweetly kissed her forehead, stood, and left. Funny, but she distinctly remembered the sight of his back and shoulders as he’d strode away
A fat tear slipped from her lids and splashed onto the unopened letter. Lilly laid back on the bed letting the tears fall that she’d held at bay for so long. She hadn’t cried when he’d left and she’d bottled everything up inside when word had come of his death. There hadn’t been time for grief, and many women had lost more than she. She’d simply pulled herself upright and kept moving forward, just like after her mother died.
11th Hour Rose
Four
“Lilly!” Her father’s voice floated up the stairs, jarring her awake. “Lilly!”
“Yes?” she croaked, blinking rapidly against the piercing sunlight.
“Lavinia is here to see you.”
Groggy, Lilly lifted her head, pressing a hand to the dull ache in her temple. How long had she slept? She’d cried long into the wee hours of the morning, and from the look of the sunlight streaming through her window it must be near ten o’clock. A habitual early riser she rarely slept so late.
Kicking to the edge of the bed, she glanced at Daniel’s letter resting on top of her pillow—still unopened. Later. She’d read the missive later. Today she and her cousin, Lavinia, had a dozen pies to make for the festival tomorrow.
Lilly dressed quickly, and moved to the mirror. Lord help her, she looked a fright this morning, eyes puffy and cheeks splotched with red. She dragged a comb through her long hair and twisted it into a simple knot, stabbing a single pin through to hold it in place. She drew a long breath, feeling surprisingly serene. Perhaps she should cry more often.
She quickly descended the stairs and found Lavinia already bustling about the kitchen.
“I’m sorry to be getting such a late start,” Lilly said, lifting her apron off the peg beside the cast-iron oven.
Lavinia offered a soft, sad smile. “I was late as well. I can hardly imagine doing this without Susannah.”
Lilly blinked as more tears threatened. “Nor I. It will be the first time we’ve ever baked for the festival without her.”
“Then we’ll have to be certain to win first prize tomorrow in her honor.”
“Yes, we will.” Lilly nodded. “Did you bring the apples?”
“A whole cartload. Your papa helped me unload them before he left.”
The women set to work companionably mixing butter and flour for pie crusts and slicing apples. It had been some time since they’d had the opportunity to visit and they chatted about an array of topics from the weather to books to Susannah Jensen.
“Lavinia, could I ask you a question about Susie?”
“Certainly.”
“Did she ever confide in you about personal matters?”
Lavinia glanced over her shoulder, expression wary. “At times… yes.”
“Was she ever unfaithful to Frank?”
Lavinia sighed, tossing a rag onto the table top. “Playing your lawyering games today I see.”
“Lavinia—”
“No.” She raised a hand. “It’s all right. I know you only mean to help Susie and those other poor girls.” Lavinia dusted the flour from her hands and sank slowly into a wooden chair beside the table. Her serious blue-green eyes fused with Lilly’s. “I believe she was.”
Lilly poked a knife into the center of the last pie… not quite finished… and slid it back into the oven to bake a few minutes longer. She sat across from her cousin at the table, organizing her thoughts. “Go on.”
“Susie and Frank were fighting a great deal and when I went to see her a few days ago she was in a very good mood and mentioned another man, an acquaintance.”
“Did she say anything specific or mention his name?”
“No. She was very vague. I’m sure she knew I wouldn’t approve, especially after I told her I am with—” A hand flew to Lavinia’s mouth as her eyes widened to the size of silver dollars. “Goodness, Lilly, I forgot to tell you!”
“Forgot to tell me what?”
Lavinia colored prettily, a warm glow lighting her eyes. “I am with child. Jeffery and I are finally having a baby.”
“Oh, my god,” Lilly blurted in genuine surprise. “Lavinia! That is wonderful.” She leapt to her feet, rounding the table to embrace her cousin. “I am so happy for you both.”
“Thank you, Lilly.” Lavinia beamed, radiating true joy. “We have wanted a child for so long I can scarcely believe it’s finally happening.”
Lilly smiled in return, suppressing the twinge of loneliness deep within her. In the last years she’d watched her friends marry the proverbial men of their dreams. They’d moved on, and Lilly had pursued her law education. She was not opposed to marriage, but simply hadn’t found
another man to excite her as Daniel had. Now most considered her an unconventional spinster.
“Jeffrey must be thrilled,” Lilly murmured. “He’s always spoken of having sons.”
A hearty rap upon the front door jarred the women from their conversation.
“I’ll get it,” Lavinia said, rising. “You tend to those last two pies.”
Lavinia disappeared and Lilly stood to pull the last pies from the oven. They smelled simply divine.
“Lilly!” Lavinia popped back in from the hall, grinning like a cat with cream. “A gentleman caller is here to see you.”
Lilly nearly dropped the steaming pie. “What could you possibly mean?” She slid the pie onto the cooling rack beside the open window.
“Marshal Langston is here.”
Lilly rolled her eyes. “He’s here to see my father.”
“He asked specifically for you.”
Lilly’s heart dropped. Lovely. A man would come to call while she was hot, sweaty, and coated in baking flour.
A mischievous gleam lit in Lavinia’s eyes. “I say, Lilly, is there something you’d like to tell me?”
“Certainly not. I guarantee this is not a social call.”
Lavinia winked. “Either way, I won’t keep you. I’ll just head on home now.”
“That really isn’t necessary.” Lilly wiped her hands on her apron and—ignoring Lavinia’s teasing smirk—strode into the entryway. Davy stood just inside the doorway, looking entirely too handsome in a gray-blue shirt and charcoal vest with matching trousers.
“Good day, Marshal Langston. I was just headed out.” Lavinia smiled sweetly as she slipped through the open door. She glanced between David and Lilly before throwing the latter a wink.
“And to you, Mrs. Ross.” He nodded politely to Lavinia. He caught her suggestive wink and quirked a brow toward Lilly. “What was that about?” he asked after Lavinia sashayed off the porch.
“I have no idea.” Lilly plastered a polite smile on her face, masking her irritation with him and Lavinia. “What can I do for you? I’m afraid my father is not home just yet.”
11th Hour Rose Page 3