Lily and the Major

by Linda Lael Miller

  It was one of Mrs. McAllister’s rules that all lady boarders attend church faithfully. If Lily had had another place to live, she would have questioned the fact that male lodgers were allowed to sit in the front parlor and smoke of a Sunday morning, never giving the state of their souls a serious thought.

  Clutching her Bible, Lily wrenched open the door and greeted her landlady with a slightly frantic smile and a breathless “Here I am!”

  The plump, middle-aged woman replied with a “harumph.” Her brown hair, streaked with gray, was pulled into its usual severe knot at the crown of her head, and her dark eyes moved over Lily with a look of suspicion. “I daresay the choir will be through the first hymn before we even reach our pews,” she said. Then, with a sniff, she turned and led the way down the narrow staircase to the kitchen.

  Although she knew it was anything but polite, Lily fell to watching Mrs. McAllister’s wide hips brush the walls as she descended. It wouldn’t be long, she reflected, before her landlady had to use the front stairs exclusively.

  The sun was shining, and Lily noted with pleasure that the sky was the same deep blue as Mrs. McAllister’s sugar bowl. The lilac bushes beside the back gate were just beginning to bud, and a spring rain had come during the night to nourish the awakening grass.

  Lily drew a deep breath and wished devoutly that she might spend this morning on the half section of land that lay midway between Tylerville and Fort Deveraux. She’d have been closer to God there than in any clapboard church.

  The musical “Amen” of the choir swelled out onto the spring air to meet Lily and Mrs. McAllister as they approached the front steps.

  Inside, crowded onto the benches that held schoolchildren during the week, the townspeople closed their hymnals with a series of claps. Lily and her landlady took seats near the door, one on either side of the aisle.

  Having registered this indication of Mrs. McAllister’s disapproval, Lily squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and focused her attention on the pastor, who was taking his place behind a makeshift pulpit. She started slightly when someone settled into the pew beside her, forcing her to move over.

  Lily’s brown eyes narrowed when she recognized Caleb Halliday. The major was dressed in a crisp blue uniform, his boots were polished, and he held his campaign hat respectfully in his lap.

  He glowered down at her for a moment, as though she’d taken his seat, then turned his gaze toward the front of the church.

  Once or twice during the next hour Caleb’s muscled thigh actually brushed against Lily’s skirts, and she felt as though she’d just dipped a ladle into a thunderstorm and taken a drink.

  Because of the crowd, Lily wasn’t able to escape quickly enough to evade Major Halliday. He was right behind her in the crush of people, and she was painfully conscious of his proximity.

  Once outside under a maple tree she gulped fresh air and fanned herself with her Bible.

  “Fine sermon, wouldn’t you say?” the major drawled, his eyes dancing as he took in her flushed face and frazzled manner.

  If Reverend Westbrook’s sermon had been devoid of a single redeeming feature, Lily wouldn’t have known it. She hadn’t heard a word for worrying about Major Halliday and the odd feelings he produced in her. “it was fine indeed,” she agreed grudgingly.

  “I’ve always thought the Book of Proverbs to be particularly uplifting,” he went on.

  Lily longed to flee, and yet she seemed rooted to the spot like the tree she leaned against. “Y-yes,” she said uncertainly. “Proverbs has much to inspire us all. Reverend Westbrook was wise to choose it as a topic.”

  Caleb’s grin was slow and slightly obnoxious, and it caused a strange melting sensation in Lily’s knees. “Perhaps he will someday,” he said. “Today, of course, he talked about Jonah and the whale.”

  Lily felt color throbbing in her cheeks. “You delight in making a fool of me,” she accused in a furious whisper.

  “Not true,” Caleb replied smoothly. “But I do like watching the sparks catch in your eyes when you realize you’ve just been had. May I walk you home, Miss Chalmers?”

  “Certainly not. In fact, I would deem it a great favor if you would simply stop bothering me, Major.” With that Lily thrust herself away from the tree and started toward the road.

  Caleb reached out and caught hold of her arm, and she was forced to choose between turning to face him and making a scene. Since she knew Mrs. McAllister would be keeping a weather eye out for unseemly doings, she pretended that meeting Caleb’s gaze had been her own idea.

  “Come on a picnic with me,” he said. It wasn’t an invitation, but an order.

  Color pulsed in Lily’s cheeks, and she blinked, astounded at the man’s arrogance. “I don’t think that would be proper,” she replied when she’d recovered a little. “After all, we hardly know each other.”

  Caleb sighed and replaced his hat. “And you obviously mean to see that we never do.”

  He sounded resigned and slightly wounded, and in spite of herself Lily was srry about that. She did find the major attractive, if entirely too tenacious. “I’ll go if you can get Mrs. McAllister’s permission,” she said, feeling proud of her resourcefulness.

  The twinkle in Caleb’s eyes said he knew she expected her landlady to refuse the request without mincing words, but he turned and sought out that good woman in the crowd, where she stood chatting with two members of the choir.

  Lily watched in mingled amazement and ire as Caleb made his way toward Mrs. McAllister, carrying his hat. He spoke politely to the woman, who rested one hand against her breast in delighted surprise and beamed up at him.

  Presently Caleb returned, looking damnably pleased with himself. “She says I’m to have you back before sundown,” he announced.

  If Lily had been holding anything other than a Bible, she would have flung it down in pure exasperation. At the same moment, inexplicably, she wanted to kiss Mrs. McAllister for giving the picnic her blessing.

  “Just how did you manage that?” she demanded as Caleb put his hat back on with a cocky flourish.

  “I’m a very persuasive man,” he replied, offering his arm.

  Grudgingly, Lily took it. “And a very arrogant one.”

  Caleb chuckled. “So I’ve been told.”

  They’d reached a smart-looking buggy drawn by a coal-black gelding, and Caleb graciously handed Lily inside. She settled herself on the seat, making a great business of smoothing her skirts so that she wouldn’t have to look at the major.

  “Where would you like to go?” he asked.

  Lily was caught off-guard by the question, since people rarely inquired about her preferences. A little shyly, she gave him directions to the plot of land she considered her own.

  Caleb set off in that direction without hesitation, and Lily liked him for that. To keep him from finding out that he’d pleased her, she turned on the hard, narrow seat to glance behind her. Sure enough, a picnic basket was wedged into the narrow space. Tentatively she lifted the lid, and the scent of fried chicken tantalized her.

  She couldn’t help an appreciative little “ummmm,” even though she was annoyed that Major Halliday had been so confident of her response to his invitation.

  Caleb grinned. “So you like chicken, do you? You’d better watch out, Lily Chalmers—before you know it, I’ll know all your deepest secrets.”

  Lily turned again and looked straight ahead at the rutted trail that led off into the countryside. The major’s remark had given her the most unnerving feeling of intimacy. “You are too sure of yourself, sir,” she replied stiffly.

  “We’ll see about that,” he answered.

  Lily squirmed on the seat. It appeared that nothing would do but the most straightforward approach. “If you’re courting me, Major Halliday,” she said, “it is only fair to tell you that I have no intention of marrying. Ever.”

  He unsettled Lily completely with a cckle. “I’m not courting you,” he answered, with such assurance that Lily was stung.
“But you’ll never make a spinster,” he added.

  “I will,” Lily insisted through her teeth.

  Caleb stopped the buggy and, with the black leather bonnet hiding them from the prying eyes of Tylerville, cupped Lily’s chin in his hand and lifted it. His grasp was not painful, but it wasn’t gentle, either. “You’ll marry,” he replied, “and here’s the reason why.”

  Before Lily could make a move to twist away he kissed her. Those lips she’d found so appealing shaped hers effortlessly to suit them. Her breasts were pressed to his chest, and she could feel her nipples budding against him like spring flowers.

  She gave a soft whimper as his tongue touched hers in a caressing flick, and the kiss went on. Endlessly.

  When Caleb finally broke away Lily found her hands clutching his shoulders. Shamed, she let go of him and made to smooth her hair.

  He took up the reins without a word and set the horse and rig in motion again.

  They’d gone some distance before Lily could bring herself to speak. “You really should take me back to Mrs. McAllister’s.”

  Caleb’s eyes glowed like amber coals. “Not a chance, Miss Chalmers. We haven’t finished our argument.”

  They had finished, as far as Lily was concerned, and he’d won. Never in her wildest dreams had she guessed that being kissed would feel like that. She could hardly wait to do it again. “What argument was that, Major?” she retorted.

  “You said you’d never marry.”

  Lily sighed in spite of herself. “You were very forward just now.”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you care to be forward again, please?”

  Caleb laughed. “That’s one thing you won’t have to worry about,” he answered.

  Lily waited, but he made no move to stop the buggy and kiss her a second time. She remembered how brazenly she’d behaved and flushed. If Mrs. McAllister ever found out, Lily would be out of the rooming house on her ear. “Do you like the army?” she asked when some considerable time had passed.

  Caleb removed his hat and set it behind him, on top of the picnic basket, then ran splayed fingers through his hair.

  “I’ve been a soldier since I was sixteen,” he said, and there was a serious expression on his face now. “It’s not a matter of liking it. I don’t know any other kind of life.”

  Lily couldn’t believe her own boldness. “Have you ever considered being a farmer?”

  He turned his head to look at her, and Lily was startled by the amused rancor she saw in his face. “I’d sooner lead a raid on hell itself,” he told her.

  “Farming is good, honest work,” Lily protested, incensed—and strangely wounded—that he didn’t share her dream.

  “If you’ve got no imagination,” Caleb replied.

  Lily bridled, folding her arms. “But soldiering is an art, I suppose. Well, you just try eating a sword for your Sunday supper—”

  “Calm down,” the major said, and though the words were spoken softly, they had the crispness of an order. In fact, Lily was as intimidated as the rowdy infantrymen had been the day before in the hotel dining room.

  “Farmers are necessary to all of us,” Lily pointed out “Without them, we wouldn’t eat. Soldiers, on the other hand…”

  “Yes?” Caleb prompted when her voice fell away.

  Lily cleared her throat. “I’m not claiming we don’t need soldiers,” she said diplomatically. “It’s just that they do seem rather a luxury in a time of peace.”

  “You wouldn’t say that if you’d ever been through an Indian attack.”

  Lily shivered at the images that came to mind. Unwittingly, the major had touched upon one of her deepest fears. “I thought the tribes around here were friendly,” she said, her eyes widening as she looked up at Caleb.

  His broad shoulders moved in a shrug. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about the red man, it’s that he’s unpredictable.”

  Lily bit her lower lip, thinking of all the nights ahead, when she would be alone on her little farm with no one to protect her.

  Caleb favored her with an indulgent smile. “You don’t need to worry, Lily. You’re safe as long as you don’t go wandering off into the countryside by yourself.”

  The reassurance didn’t help. How on earth could she run a homestead single-handedly and not be alone? “I’ll just have to buy a rifle and practice my shooting,” she reflected aloud.

  Even though they hadn’t quite reached the valley, Caleb stopped the rig again. “What did you say?” he asked.

  Lily sighed. “I want to practice shooting. I used to hunt grouse with Rupert, and—”

  Caleb was staring at her as though she’d just said she planned to ride to the stars on a moonbeam. “A lady’s got no business fooling with a weapon,” he interrupted.

  Lily sat up very straight. “You’re certainly entitled to your opinion, Major Halliday,” she said primly, “however antiquated and stupid it might be.”

  Caleb started the rig rolling again with a lurch, slapping the reins down on the horse’s back. “What would you want with a gun?” he asked after a few moments had passed.

  Although Lily knew her answer would start more trouble, she could no longer hold it back. “I’ll need it for hunting, of course—and to protect myself, should the need arise. I mean to farm for a living, you see.”

  “By yourself?” There was a note of marvel in Caleb’s voice.

  “By myself,” Lily confirmed as the horse and buggy topped a grassy knoll. Below lay the valley—her valley—dappled with purple and pink and yellow wildflowers, resplendent with spring.

  For a few moments Lily had had doubts. But now, seeing her land, and her creek sparkling in the sunshine, she knew she would build her house and plant her fruit trees and crops. She could make it all come true if she just kept on working and planning, and she wouldn’t need a man to help.

  Especially not a soldier.

  Chapter

  2

  There,” Lily said happily, drawing a deep breath and pointing. “Let’s have our picnic right there, by the creek.”

  Caleb was silent as he guided the rig down the hill to the stream, and there was a look of surprise on his face. The horse drank thirstily of the pure water flowing from some distant spring while his master unloaded the picnic basket and a worn woolen blanket.

  “Don’t you like it?” Lily asked, climbing down from the buggy on her own and approaching Caleb. “Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”

  Caleb gazed around him at the land, ran the fingers of his left hand through his hair, and took the basket from behind the seat. He flipped the blanket open to spread on the ground, then he looked at Lily in an odd, distracted sort of way. “Very beautiful,” he answered gruffly.

  Lily was pleased. Obviously Caleb was moved by the sheer grandeur of the landscape, just as she was. “I’m going to put my house right here,” she announced, gleeful as a child as she extended both arms and turned in a circle. “The clothesline will be there, and the garden over here—”

  Caleb was shaking his head, a look of sad amusement in his eyes. This was quickly displaced by a certain wariness. “You’re not saying you mean to live here?”

  Lily’s good spirits deflated. “Of course I am. This is my property—or at least half of it is. I couldn’t get a whole section because I’m not married.”

  Caleb folded his arms. The air between them seemed to hum. “You’ve filed a homestead claim on this place?”

  Lily nodded. “I have the deed and everything,” she answered proudly. “And I’m saving all my money. In another six months I’ll have enough to stake myself to a good start.”

  Caleb sighed. His tone was indulgent; he might have been speaking to a child who wanted to play on the edge of a cliff. “It’ll be October then,” he pointed out. “The snow will only be a couple of weeks away.”

  Lily hadn’t thought of that, for all her planning and scheming, but she didn’t want Caleb to know. “I’ll manage.”

  Caleb s
at down on the blanket, and Lily joined him there, carefully smoothing her skirts. When he brought out the chicken Lily immediately helped herself to a drumstick.

  div height=“0em”>

  Then she proceeded to make conversation. “Where did you grow up, Major?”

  He smiled at the question, though Lily saw some old sadness move in his eyes. “Fox Chapel, Pennsylvania,” he answered. “What about you?”

  Lily looked away for a moment. “A little town outside of Lincoln, Nebraska,” she said softly. “But I was born in Chicago.”

  “I know you have a brother in Spokane. Any sisters?”

  For a moment the sorrow was nearly unbearable, coming upon her so suddenly the way it did. It was like a storm inside her spirit. “Two—Emma and Caroline. We were separated as children.”

  Caleb stopped eating to reach out and touch the back of Lily’s hand. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “What happened, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Lily bit her lower lip, recovering. Finally she replied, “There was a new man in Mama’s life—a soldier—and he didn’t want any children around, so she put us on an orphan train headed west.”

  Caleb listened in silence, and if he felt pity for Lily, he didn’t show it. She was grateful.

  “Caroline was the oldest,” she went on sadly, “then Emma, then me.” She stopped to swallow. “When the train stopped they trooped us all out on the platform, and people could choose a child and take it home, no questions asked. I—I was young and naive. I thought we’d all be chosen together, but it didn’t happen that way, of course. Caroline got adopted somewhere in Nebraska, and Emma went the next day. I—I was all alone.”

  Caleb’s hand closed over Lily’s, the thumb making a soothing yet sensuous circle on her palm. “How old were you?” he asked, his voice gruff.

  “Six,” Lily answered, with a smile that soon faltered and fell away.

  The major’s grip tightened on her hand, but he didn’t speak again. He just waited for Lily to go on.

  Lily struggled against hopeless tears. She’d trained herself not to cry years before, but for some reason her resolve was weakening. “It was the soldier’s fault,” she said in a low, bitter voice. “Mama would never have sent us away if it weren’t for him.”