A Lily Blooms (Cutter's Creek Book 4)

by Kari Trumbo

  “Oh, I don’t think you know them.” She patted Lillian on the hand. “You’d best be getting to work. I think the reverend left your notes for you on the desk.” She pointed to the tiny space in the back.

  Lillian nodded and headed over. Sure enough, there sat the sermon notes for the following Sunday. If only her mind wasn’t full of a certain handsome man so she could concentrate.

  Chapter Twelve

  James spoke softly to David as he strolled to Miss Donaldson’s home. He could see it from the end of the street. The normally dark house had been thoroughly lit, and threw off a welcoming glow. He grinned. She would be inside and maybe want to hold his son. He would have welcomed it if she had asked yesterday, but it had been her strange mother who had approached. Was it worth letting the mother hold little David if it meant he could finally call on Miss Donaldson? Did he still want to? Having his head in the clouds felt good, but he was pretty sure it had felt good the first time, too.

  James parked the carriage just off their steps and lifted the wiggling bundle, cradling him to his chest. He trudged up two steps before Mrs. Donaldson threw open the door with a bang, startling David. The baby cried loudly.

  “Well, don’t just stand there! Bring the boy in!” Mrs. Donaldson pushed him into their living room. Lillian sat by the fire, reading a book; her countenance was calm and flawless. He relaxed in her presence immediately, which had the same effect on his son.

  Lillian stood. “Mr. Cahill. Good to see you and your young one. Have a seat.”

  He chose a chair close to her and laid his son on his left arm, using his right to remove the layer of blankets around David.

  “I don’t know how I’ll ever get him all wrapped up again. Mother does that, and I haven’t learned yet.” He laughed at himself.

  Mrs. Donaldson approached and looked over his shoulder at David. “Why, isn’t he a handsome little thing? Seems mighty strange, almost unnatural for a man to be walking around with a baby.”

  “Mama!” Lillian cut a glance at her.

  “It’s alright.” He snuggled the boy to his neck. “I understand how strange it may seem, but I needed this little boy as much as he needed me. I tried to love for years and had been rebuffed. David takes my love with nary a fuss.”

  Miss Donaldson turned a lovely shade of pink and he wanted to touch her skin to see if it warmed her. Gwendolyn had never blushed. She’d been more prone to scoffing.

  “Well, are you going to keep him all to yourself or can we hold him, too?” Mrs. Donaldson put her hands on her hips.

  “Miss Donaldson…care to hold him?” He searched her eyes and found a warmth and desire there he’d never noticed. The lady wanted children. His insides warmed at the thought.

  “Miss Donaldson can wait her turn.” The elder woman reached out.

  It would have been terrible manners to ignore her or say no, but a warning clanged in the back of his head not to let her. She was just too quirky and David still too frail. He looked to Lillian. Her whole manner was still relaxed. Perhaps he was overreacting. Surely this woman was harmless.

  He handed David over and the woman folded him gently into her arms, cooing and fussing over him. James relaxed a little and looked at Lillian.

  “You look lovely tonight. This lighting suits you.” He leaned toward her chair.

  She closed her book and turned her knees toward him. The room faded away and it was just the two of them. He had her all to himself.

  “I’m sorry for earlier. I’m not sure what was going on in my head. I guess sometimes I still fear caring about anyone new.”

  He saw the question flit across her face, the one it would be terribly forward to ask. He refused to let this be too easy for her.

  “I’m still not sure I’m ready, but if I were, would you allow a suitor with a son?”

  Her eyes lit up and a smile played at the edges of her lips. Oh, how he wanted to see them turn up!

  “I would say your son is the only reason you are welcome to come, suitor or not.”

  “She isn’t even listening to us, is she?” He turned to look where Mrs. Donaldson had been just a moment before, but she was no longer in the room. They truly were alone. “Where did she go?” He tried to see down the hall to the kitchen, then looked up the stairs.

  “I didn’t see. She’s probably getting us some tea. Why don’t you wait here? I’ll go see if I can help her. She can’t carry a tray and little David.”

  Lillian stood and flattened her skirts, pulling her bodice down nervously. She swept out of the room quickly. He heard some movement coming from the kitchen, then Lillian rushed back.

  “I don’t know why she would go upstairs with him, but let me check.” She grabbed her skirts in a bunch and took the stairs two at a time.

  James stood in shock. He turned and looked outside. His buggy had disappeared.

  “Lillian!” Oh, what a terrible time to use her Christian name!

  “She’s not up there, Mr. Cahill. I can’t—”

  “Your mother has left with my son. The buggy is gone. Where would she have taken him? We need to find him quickly.”

  Lillian cringed at the frost in his voice, but he couldn’t keep it away. This was his son, off with a madwoman.

  “I’ll find Father. He might know where she would go. She never leaves the house. I wouldn’t begin to know where to look.”

  He felt his anger reach up like a living thing. He couldn’t stop the words from erupting. “This is your fault. If you had brought your concerns to me about Gwendolyn, I may not have married her. You with your little smile and lavender scent. You lured me into this house and now your mother has taken my son. Find him and then stay out of my life! You destroy everything you touch!”

  He watched her shoulders shake and a tear course its way down her cheek. It made his anger boil hotter. She wasn’t doing anything! “Time is wasting! Where is your father?”

  “At…the…café.” Her breath was ragged from sobs. She ran from the room and the door slammed behind her. He flopped onto the sofa and buried his head in his hands. He should have listened to his gut. How many times did he have to mess up before he listened to his gut?

  Lord, you have my attention. My head is firmly out of the clouds and I’m listening. Please don’t allow my disobedience and sin to hurt my son. He is so innocent of all this. I feel terrible for letting myself use him as a key to get close to Miss Donaldson. It was wrong. I should have waited to see when or if You gave me an opportunity. I am so sorry, Lord. Please hear me and bring back my son!

  “James?” Mr. Donaldson sat next to him on the sofa, resting his hand on James’s shoulder.

  “Do you know where she may have taken him?” James scrubbed his hands down his face.

  “I might have an idea, but you must understand: She will not hurt him. In fact, if we give her a little time, it will be easier to get him back.”

  “Don’t you understand? He is still weak from being shipped here! They didn’t feed him or anything. It’s a wonder he didn’t die! I’ll not sit by and let her take him. Where can I find her?”

  Mr. Donaldson looked at the floor then at Lillian. “Sit, Lily. You need to hear this and so does James. Perhaps then you both will understand what has happened and how we can get your son back.”

  He cleared his throat and looked down at his hands. “When I met Candy she was just a young thing, about seventeen and prettier than a new penny. All of the boys wanted to call on her, but her father was a large man with wide shoulders and fists like mauls. We all feared him. One afternoon, I screwed up my courage and went over to ask to court her. Her father seemed kind enough, but I noticed that Candy never looked at him and always seemed like she wanted to run away when he was near.

  “We courted and were married about a year later. I’ll never forget the wedding. He handed me his daughter’s hand and said, ‘Now you can deal with it. I’m done.’ Then he turned and left. I stared at my nervous bride through the rest of the ceremony, wondering what h
e meant. It didn’t take long living with Candy before I realized something was wrong. She would cry or get angry over things that wouldn’t bother most people. If she is scared, she sits in the nearest chair and rocks, even if the chair doesn’t rock. She gets ideas in her head and won’t let them go, no matter what.”

  Mr. Donaldson looked at James, then back to his hands. “When your mama was about to have you, she and Candy were friends. She seemed to know of Candy’s problems, but didn’t let it stop the friendship. Well, when you turned out to be a son that triggered something within Candy that I have never figured out. She had to have a boy. We tried for a long time for a child and with each new month she would get angrier. First with God, then with all her friends. She wouldn’t let your mama come any more with you, and whenever anyone mentioned a child or having a boy she would fly into a rage.

  “After five years, we finally became pregnant. The house calmed down and we waited with expectation. I prayed for a little boy that would cure my Candy of her delusions. Nine months flew by and on that night, she was so excited. The midwife came and said it was one of the easiest births she’d ever seen…right up until she presented Candy with her little girl.”

  Mr. Donaldson’s large shoulders heaved a great sigh, then continued to tremble. He looked at his lovely daughter, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. “She tried to throw you. I was there and caught you. I wasn’t supposed to be in the room, and Lord knows, I didn’t want to be, but the Lord gave me this feeling that if I wasn’t there, something terrible would happen.

  “I know you have not had an easy life, maybe not even such a good life. But, at least you had one. I had to stay home for the first few months. I couldn’t leave her alone with you. I just didn’t trust her. I lost my job and the town began to whisper.” He flushed deep red.

  “Candy brought you to the church a few weeks after you were born and she asked Reverend Lasch to pray for the Lord to turn you into a boy. He refused. She has not stepped foot in a church since then. But…” He sucked his breath in hard and fast. “The worst is my fault. When we were waiting at church with you, before she brought you to the altar to ask for prayer, I asked her not to go. I told her the embarrassment would ruin the family name. That was the second time she hooked onto something I said and ran away with it. Now, every time someone talks about us, to her it is bad enough to destroy our family. I am so sorry, Lillian.”

  James stared at Mr. Donaldson. “Well, that’s wonderful. You saved your wife from a mental institution so she could make your daughter’s life a nightmare and kidnap my son. I’m not unsympathetic, but this is not the time for stories. Where is she so I can go get David?”

  Lillian reached over and grasped James’s hand in her petite one. She looked at him, and her eyes pleaded with him to listen. He pulled his hand away and scowled at Mr. Donaldson.

  “She is probably at her father’s house.”

  “The man with mauls for hands! This is supposed to comfort me and make me want to leave her to come back on her own? You are just as befuddled as she is!”

  “Father, can I take Mr. Cahill out to Grandfather’s and talk Mama into letting the little one go. She won’t run any further without going somewhere she doesn’t know. She would never do that.”

  Mr. Donaldson nodded and looked up at James. “God be with you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lillian wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and led the way through the town and out past the chapel. She longed to go in and quiet her thoughts, but it was more important to press on. She could pray while she walked. James’s anger came off him in waves; if she got too close he’d leave her smoldering.

  They left behind the scant light from Cutter’s Creek, and Lillian shivered. A coyote howled off toward the river and she picked up her pace. James had no trouble keeping up with her. She looked over at him and stumbled. He reached over and righted her without missing a step. He let her go immediately, as if touching her was painful to him.

  “James. I’m so sorry. I know you won’t see it this way, but my father and I had no idea she would do this.”

  “So her incredibly erratic behavior in inviting me to not only come to your home, but to come in as well, was not noteworthy to you? My mother certainly thought it was.” His jaw clamped shut and he would not look at her.

  Her eyes adjusted and soon the night didn’t seem quite so dark, though it was frightening. She’d never been allowed to venture far from home and never at night. They walked over two low hills and Lillian could see a lamp in the window of her grandfather’s cabin. It had been empty since he’d passed, that could only mean her mother had planned this in advance. By the wild look James shot at her, he was thinking along the same lines.

  Just outside the cabin door, the buggy sat waiting for them. Lillian looked inside to find all the blankets had been taken inside. It was chilly, and they couldn’t smell or see the smoke of a fire. The poor infant would be cold. James didn’t wait for her. He rushed inside and Lillian followed in his shadow.

  “Candy Donaldson? Where is my son?” James yelled from the door.

  Lillian scooted behind him and went to the back of the small cabin, where the bedroom was. She found her mother sitting in the rocking chair, wrapped in a blanket, snuggling little David to her neck. She rocked forward and back in a comforting motion. Lillian wondered if she was comforting David or herself.

  “Mama, you can’t keep him. He isn’t yours.” Lillian took two small steps into the room. She could feel James just behind her. She held her arm out to hold him back. If he scared Mama, there was no telling what she might do.

  “He should have been. You two can make your own, but I’ll never have one if I don’t keep him.”

  Lillian gasped. “No, Mama. We can’t make another. There will never be another David, and he belongs to his father, Mr. Cahill. You need to give him back.”

  James tried to step forward, but Lillian side-stepped in front of him. He was angry already. Lost to her, it seemed. So, if keeping his son safe made him angrier, at least she would lose him for a good reason.

  “Mama, look at him. Isn’t he precious? But he needs to eat. It is past his feeding time, and you don’t have a goat or anything here to give him nourishment. You don’t want to hurt him. Let his father take him home.”

  “His own mama didn’t want him. I do.” She held the child closer and the tension made David stiffen. He whimpered and the air seemed to suck out of the entire cabin as he filled his tiny lungs with air and let out a scream fit to burst eardrums. Candy held David out at arm’s length, and her face squeezed tight at the noise.

  “Mama, you said I could have my turn after you held him. I still haven’t had my turn. Can I, please?”

  Candy pulled her head back and grimaced as if she’d just discovered a dirty diaper, and held him toward Lillian. She rushed forward and collected David. He was swaddled perfectly, and warm, wrapped in his bundles. Lillian handed him back to James. Without a word, he took his son and left. She couldn’t blame him.

  Lillian turned to find her mama staring ahead of her at nothing on the wall, and rocking back and forth in the chair.

  “You let him take my boy. How could you let him take my boy? I never wanted you. You were a girl. Broken. Just like me. Paddy always said I was broken because I was a girl. Nothing special.” She rocked harder. “Paddy always said I didn’t have the sense God gave a rabbit. I was a shame to the family. It’s God’s fault. He didn’t give me no sense and he didn’t give me a boy. I’m broken. I still don’t want you.” Her thoughts tumbled out of her mouth, but her eyes remained fixed on the wall and unfocused.

  “Mama. I don’t mind if you don’t want me. I understand. I don’t think you’re broken, but I do think you should come home to Papa. He can help you feel better.”

  “He couldn’t give me a son, either. No one wants me to be happy.”

  “Please, Mama. Come home.”

  Lillian reached out for her mother’s arm and helped her st
and. They walked back to the town without a word, the chilly night keeping them close. She opened the door to their home to find her father in the same place on the sofa where she’d left him. He looked up and sighed, standing to collect his wife. Neither of them noticed that Lillian did not come in. She closed the door behind her mother and crept off the porch, tears streaking her face.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lillian picked up her skirts and ran. Every move she’d ever consciously made had been for her parents, conscious of every word that came from her mouth so she didn’t shame them. They didn’t want her, and never had. No one did. Even James had left her, and no longer cared. All because of her parents.

  She yanked open the door to the chapel and the dark silence called her within. She stepped gingerly over the threshold, on her tiptoes, afraid to disturb the silence. She took measured steps to the front of the small chapel, touching each pew as she walked by until she reached the front. Her father’s voice sounded in her head, not to cross the invisible line between congregation and where the men of God stood. She held her foot mid-stride, then closed her eyes and crossed the line.

  She walked to the steps of the dais and knelt on them, tears blurring her vision.

  “I did everything you asked,” she sobbed. “Everything.” Her body shuddered. “I lived by faith and walked by the Word!”

  No.

  Lillian raised her head. No one else was with her in the chapel. “Reverend Bligh? Are you there?”

  You did not live by faith, but by the edicts of your parents.

  Lillian stood and clutched the neck of her shirtwaist. She turned slowly, squinting into the shadows. The voice had seemed to come from deep within her, but was not her own; yet it didn’t frighten her.

  “I was honoring my father and mother…” She looked around and listened, then hung her head, knowing that she could not pin those faults on them. “I’m so sorry, Lord.” She turned and looked at the cross hanging behind the pulpit, the white walls making the dark wood visible. “Will I ever know love? Will anyone ever care about me? Sometimes I think it would be better if—”