Lily and the Major
Page 12
“I am in favor,” Mrs. Tibbet insisted.
“Lily, you’ll ruin your hands,” Sandra put in with a concerned frown. “All that lye soap.” She paused to shudder. “And of course everyone will think you’re selling yourself as well as your services.”
“Poppycock,” said Mrs. Tibbet.
“Gertrude,” warned the colonel, “I will thank you not to use strong language.”
“If you don’t let Lily have that house,” pressed his wife, “I will invite her to live here and conduct business from our kitchen!”
Both Sandra and Lily sat tensely in their chairs while invisible darts flew back and forth between the Tibbets.
Finally the colonel pushed back his chair and grumbled, “Very well, Lily may have the house. But I’m warning you, Gertrude—there will be trouble, and you’ll have yourself to thank for it.”
Lily wanted to shout for joy. She was in business! Soon she’d have all the money she needed. When the Pinkerton man she meant to hire located Emma and Caroline they would find her to be a woman of property, with her own pigs and chickens.
Life was glorious.
Sandra was gazing at Lily in amazement. “What will Caleb say?”
Lily was about to respond that she didn’t care what Caleb would say when he came strolling into the dining room and demanded good-naturedly, “What will Caleb say about what?”
“Dratted women,” the colonel muttered, tossing down his napkin and bolting out of his chair. “They don’t know how to listen. They don’t know how to obey. If the army were made up of them, we’d all be British subjects.”
Caleb grinned at his superior officer’s disgruntled remarks and helped himself to a cup of coffee from the silver pot standing on the sideboard. The colonel sank back into his chair with an exaggerated sigh.
“Sit down and have some breakfast, Caleb,” Mrs. Tibbet said, but his eyes were on Lily now, curious and wary.
He drew back a chair beside Lily and sat. “Thank you,” he said to the mistress of the house, “but I ate at the mess hall. What’s going on here?”
“Lily’s starting up a business,” Sandra piped, her eyes dancing at the prospect of an uproar in her aunt and uncle’s dining room. “Uncle John is going to let her live in the schoolmaster’s cottage.”
Lily braced herself, but when she managed to meet Caleb’s gaze she was surprised to see that he was smiling.
“You’re not going to like the laundry trade, Lily,” he said evenly. “But I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t glad you were staying.”
Lily had to avert her eyes because she was remembering the night before and the way she’d behaved with this man. It all seemed so brazen in the bright light of day. “Of course, I will have to go back to Tylervill have t to get my things and resign my job,” she said. “I don’t know what Mrs. McAllister will say about my coming to live on an army post, however.”
“If we’re going to make the trip and get back within the day,” Caleb remarked, finishing off his coffee, “we’d better be leaving.”
Lily squirmed slightly in her chair. Caleb already thought he had the right to tell her what to do about everything. If she didn’t take a firm approach with him, he was going to have her dancing at the end of a string like a puppet. “I’ll just remain here and take the stagecoach tomorrow,” she said sweetly. “But thank you all the same.”
In the distance church bells began to chime.
“Oh, my goodness,” Mrs. Tibbet fretted, squinting at the watch pinned to the bodice of her brown sateen dress. “If we don’t hurry, we’ll miss the opening prayer.”
“Heaven forbid,” said Sandra, who was watching Lily and Caleb avidly.
“Come along, Sandra,” the colonel said gruffly.
“I’ll clear the table while you’re gone,” Lily offered, hoping that Caleb would leave the house with the Tibbets and Sandra and give her a little time to plan. She hadn’t really expected the colonel to give in on the issue of the schoolmaster’s cottage so easily; his capitulation had left her with a great many things to think about.
As luck would have it, Caleb remained behind.
Lily’s hands were unsteady as she cleared the table, despite all her practice at such tasks. She could feel Caleb’s eyes on her, and she knew he was remembering the night before, just as she was.
“You needn’t think I’m staying at Fort Deveraux because of you,” she said without looking at him. “In fact, I believe it would be better if you just tended to your own business and left me completely alone.”
“Do you?” he asked, and, catching hold of the back of her yellow dress, he hauled her easily onto his lap.
Lily spread her hands on his chest, her brown eyes widening, but she didn’t push herself away. She couldn’t quite work up the impetus to do that. “Y-yes,” she answered belatedly.
He touched her breast with the tip of one index finger, causing her nipple to harden beneath her clothes. “Perhaps you need some convincing,” he said, his voice at once soft and ragged.
“Wh-what sort of convincing?” Lily asked, because she was by nature adventurous and just a bit on the impulsive side. She had to know what he’d say.
Caleb pretended deep thought. “Well, since there’s nobody here but us—and there won’t be for at least two hours, because the chaplain is a long-winded man—I could spread you out on this table and have you for breakfast.”
Lily was shocked, but she was also intrigued. It was her abrupt understanding of this latter fact that gave her the power to bound out of Caleb’s lap and cross to the other side of the room. “You would force me?”
“I wouldn’t have to force you,” Caleb said easily, “and we both know it. In five minutes I could have you volunteering for duty.”
Lily knew he was right, and that infuriated her. She turned away and began slamming lids onto the various dishes on the sideboard. “Don’t you know when to give up?” she snapped.
Caleb came up behind her, turned her into his arms, and held her close. “When was the last time you gave up on something you wanted, Lily?”
“I never give up. It’s cowardly.”
He smiled, his hands resting lightly on the sides of her waist. “Persistence is an admirable quality. Perhaps you’ve noticed that I have it, too.”
Lily was desperate for a barrier to throw between them; she was beginning to have thoughts of lying on Mrs. Tibbet’s tablecloth in total surrender. “I couldn’t love a man who keeps a mistress,” she threw out.
He withdrew slightly. “What?”
“Sandra told me. She said the woman lives in Tylerville.”
Caleb looked taken aback, but only for a moment. “She does,” he answered. “But when we parted company, she was talking about going back to San Francisco. She has a prospective husband there.”
Lily’s eyes widened. “You parted company?”
“Of course,” Caleb replied. “Did you think I was going to go on visiting Bianca while I was seeing you?”
“You weren’t faithful to Sandra,” Lily pointed out.
“I also wasn’t sleeping with her.”
Lily lowered her eyes. “I don’t understand.”
Caleb lifted her chin. “Sandra is my little sister’s best friend,” he said gently. “She’s family to the Tibbets. I married her because she was in trouble. Is it getting any clearer?”
“You’re really a very honorable man,” Lily allowed with a sigh.
Caleb arched an eyebrow. “That’s bad?”
“It makes it much harder to resist you.”
“Resisting me will prove impossible, Lily.”
“You are the most presumptuous—”
He turned his head to glance back at the table. “You’d just fit between the biscuits and the butter dish,” he commented idly.
Lily resisted an urge to smash his instep with her foot. He’d gotten his way. She was going to agree to let him drive her back to Tylerville. And the reason was simple: If they stayed here, she might end up doin
g something scandalous. If they were in a moving buggy, there would be less chance of that.
“Just let me finish clearing the table,” she said, pretending the decision had been hers alone, “and then I’ll get my valise and write a note for Mrs. Tibbet.”
Caleb’s hands cupped her bottom very lightly and very briefly. “I’ll clear the table,” he said. “Go ahead and get ready to leave.”
Lily was flabbergasted. She’d never known a man to voluntarily undertake a household chore before. Why, even Rupert, as kind as he was, had always expected the female members of the family to take care of such things.
“Go on,” Caleb said gently.
Lily hurried upstairs and packed her things. Then, after finding paper and pencil on top of Mrs. Tibbet’s writing desk in the parlor, she composed a note thanking her hostess and explaining that she had gone with Caleb.
She doubted that her friend would be surprised.
The dining room was spotless when Lily returned, and Caleb was standing at the window with his back to her, looking out on a temperamental spring day.
“I hope it won’t rain,” Lily said, feeling very shy all of a sudden.
Caleb turned and smiled at her. “Whatever happens, Lily,” he said, “I’ll take care of you.”
Soon they were in Caleb’s buggy again, heading through the fort toward the great gates. Since most everyone was in church, there were only a few Suds Row urchins to stare at them as they passed.
Caleb sensed Lily’s pain at seeing them and reached out to lay one hand over hers. “What are you thinking?”
Lily was silent until the gates had been opened and Caleb had been saluted and waved through. “I know how they feel, Caleb—always on the outside of things.”
He squeezed her hand and brought it to rest on his knee. “Is that how you felt, growing up?”
Lily had told Caleb a little about her separation from her sisters and her adoption by the Sommers family the day of their picnic, but she’d never admitted what it had really been like living with them. In fact, she’d never discussed that with anyone—not even Rupert.
“The Sommerses wanted me as a playmate for their daughter, Isadora. She was the light of their lives—beautiful as a fairy princess.”
“Was she unkind to you?”
Lily shrugged. “Sometimes, but Isadora was too shallow to be really cruel.” She paused to reflect. “But I was a doll to her, not a person.”
Caleb’s silence was an encouraging one.
“When we were ten, and Isadora died of diphtheria, Charles and Bethesda—Reverend and Mrs. Sommers—were furious with God. They couldn’t believe, after all their dedication, that He’d taken their cherished daughter to heaven and left them burdened with me. They treated me accordingly.”
Caleb’s hand tightened on Lily’s.
“If it hadn’t been for Rupert, life would have been intolerable. When he left home I went with him and served as his housekeeper—until I ran away to Tylerville and filed my homestead claim.”
“You never saw the Sommerses again?”
Lily shook her head. “They’re dead.”
“How long have you been trying to find your sisters?”
“Ever since I learned to write,” Lily sighed. “Not one of my letters was ever answered. Besides, Caroline and Emma wouldn’t look the way I remember them, so my descriptions probably aren’t very helpful.”
Caleb lifted her hand to his mouth, kissed the knuckles lightly, and let her go. “Have you ever thought about hiring a detective?”
Lily nodded. “I mean to engage a Pinkerton man,” she said, “even if I have to wait another year to build my house.”
“I’ll pay for the investigation, Lily.”
She looked at him in amazement. “I couldn’t be obligated.”
“You wouldn’t be.”
Lily shook her head. “Thank you for offering, Caleb, but it really wouldn’t be proper.”
“What about last night? Was that proper?”
Lily blushed. “Are you suggesting that you should pay me for that?”
Caleb’s grin was slow and arrogant. “Of course not. That would make you a—laundress.”
Another gibe about her business plans. Determined not to allow him to bait her, Lily turned her attention to the cloudy sky. A chilly wind blew over the prairie land that surrounded them, and Caleb produced his uniform coat from behind the seat. With one hand he draped it over Lily’s shoulders.
“Thank you,” she said grudgingly.
Caleb laughed. “It will take a lifetime,” he said.
Lily looked at him curiously. “What will?”
“Never mind,” he replied.
Fifteen minutes later the rain began. Although it was only a drizzle, Lily knew that the road would soon be wet and muddy and the traveling difficult. She half expected Caleb to turn the horse and buggy around and head back to Fort Deveraux, but he didn’t.
When, after an hour, the weather grew really bad, he pulled the rig into a copse of pine trees to wait out the storm.
“We could go back to the fort,” Lily suggested uneasily. She wondered what the chances were of their being set upon by hostile Indians.
“It’s just a cloudburst,” Caleb said in a dismissive tone, getting down from the buggy to stretch his long legs.
The horse nickered and began nibbling contentedly on the moist spring grass.
Lily, wearing Caleb’s coat over her dress, folded her arms impatiently. She wanted to be moving, whether it was toward the fort or toward Tylerville. Stopping under a bunch of trees was nothing but a waste of time. And suppose there was lightning?
At that moment a blast of thunder rent the sky, and Lily fairly flung herself out of the buggy and into Caleb’s arms.
He lowered her slowly to the ground, making her feel every inch of his torso as she passed. With one finger he traced her jawline, his mouth drawing closer to hers with every passing second.
Lily whirled away from him, nearly slipping in the grass. Although the air was moist, the rain did not reach them.
“Are you afraid of me, Lily?”
She hugged herself and shook her head, aware that she must look very silly in that oversized coat. “No. I don’t believe you’d ever hurt me or force me to do anything I didn’t want to.”
He spread his hands. “Well, then?”
“But I am afraid of your power over me,” Lily went on. “Sometimes I think you could make me do anything.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that you might have the same kind of power over me?”
Lily shook her head. “I know I don’t.” Suddenly she started to cry. “Any woman could do what I did last night.”
Caleb came to her and drew her close. “Lily, that isn’t true.”
She let her forehead rest against his shoulder and wept. “It is!” she wailed.
Caleb held her face, hooking his thumbs beneath her chin, and made her look at him. She closed her eyes, only to have him gently kiss her lids. “Lily, listen to me. I’ve got feelings for you that I’ve never had for anyone else. Ever.”
Her hands were drawn to his shoulders, where they rested lightly. “But why? Why me, Caleb?”
He kissed her lips lightly. “Because you’re beautiful—because you’re strong—because somewhere, sometime, an angel wrote our names in a book. I don’t know why, Lily. And the why of it doesn’t matter.”
Lily liked the idea of an angel writing her name in a book, but she still wasn’t convinced that Caleb wasn’t using her. Maybe she had been an innocent until just the night before, but she’d known for a long time that a man would say anything to get a woman to lie down with him. The smart ones, like Caleb, could come up with some very pretty words. “You’re right. It doesn’t matter, because you’re going to stay in the army, and I’m going to homestead my land.”
Caleb’s expression was one of pure exasperation. “You little idiot. How the hell do you propose to plow fields, fend off Indians and outlaws, and build
a house all by yourself?”
Lily was wounded. “Maybe 1 won’t be by myself,” she said, wanting to hurt him in the same way he’d hurt her. “Maybe I’ll meet a soldier at Fort Deveraux—one who wants to be a farmer. We could get married, and I wouldn’t be alone.” She started to turn away from him, intending to go back to the buggy, but he grasped her arm and wrenched her back.
“You’re mine,” he breathed through his perfect white teeth. “And I’ll kill the man who lays a hand on”
“I’m not yours!”
“You are,” Caleb argued. “I saw to that last night.”
Lily was outraged. He was treating her like a piece of land, one he’d homesteaded and laid a permanent claim to. “I told you, last night was a mistake.”
Deftly, he turned her so that her back was pressed to his chest. Lily was angry, but she wasn’t afraid. Even in anger she knew she had nothing to fear from Caleb.
“What are you doing?” she spat.
Although Caleb’s arms held her like a giant manacle his hands were gentle on her breasts. Her nipples responded instantly, traitorously, to his touch. “I’m convincing you,” he said, his lips moving along her neck.
Lily struggled, but it was useless. “Caleb Halliday, you let me go!”
“All right,” he said huskily, and he relaxed the pressure of his arms, though his hands remained on Lily’s breasts, caressing her. “Go ahead, Lily. Step away.”
It was humiliating, but Lily found she couldn’t move. What he was doing felt too good; it was meeting some deep and mysterious need. A need as old as womankind.
“Go on,” he said, and Lily felt the front of her skirt rising as one of his hands clasped it. “Walk away, Lily.”
“Damn you,” she gasped. She felt the cold, drizzly breeze through her drawers as her skirt was lifted.
“Hold this,” Caleb ordered softly, and she did. She actually clasped her skirt in one hand and held it for him, and her defiant obedience brought a low chuckle from his throat.
He untied her drawers, and, because they were too big in the first place, they fell unceremoniously to her ankles. She kicked them away.
Caleb put one foot between Lily’s feet and made her broaden her stance, and she quivered as his hand massaged her bare abdomen. “Caleb,” she pleaded.