Lily and the Major

by Linda Lael Miller

  Lily cast a surreptitious glance around the crowded parlor and saw Caleb standing on the far side of the room, a cup of punch in his hand, speaking with Sandra’s friend, Lieutenant Costner. He met Lily’s look, as quick as it was, but there was time enough for her to see the lack of interest in his eyes.

  “Yes, please,” she said brightly to Corporal Pierce, who was still standing attentively at her side. “Punch and cake would be very nice, thank you.”

  While the corporal hurried off to the refreshment table Lily scanned the room again, this time slowly, her gaze deliberately skirting Caleb. Despite her cool demeanor, however, she felt bruised.

  Just a day before he’d brought her candy and demanded that she come and live with him. Now he didn’t seem aware of her existence.

  “My first name is Wilbur, ma’am,” the corporal confided, returning with a plate of cake and a cup brimming with pink punch. Lily spotted a nearby chair and wended her way toward it. Reaching her destination, she sat down, balancing her cake plate on her knees, and gazed up at her new friend with her most devastating smile.

  “Wilbur,” she echoed, saying the name as though it were somehow Olympian and anyone bearing it would surely have wings upon his feet.

  Wilbur crouched beside her. “I know those rumors aren’t true,” he said earnestly. “About your washing business, I mean.”

  Lily might have choked on her first bite of cake if she hadn’t seen out of the corner of her eye that Caleb was watching her. She set her punch on the figurine-cluttered table beside her chair and patted Wilbur’s cheek affectionately. “Thank you, Wilbur,” she said softly.

  The young man fairly beamed. “I’ll bring, my wash over tomorrow, if that’s all right with you.”

  Lily risked a glance at Caleb and found that he was concentrating on a conversation with a plump blond woman wearing a blue sateen dress. “That’ll be fine,” she answered distractedly. “Of course, if it’s raining again, everything will take longer.”

  Before Wilbur could make a response Gertrude Tibbet appeared. Lily thought she looked very nice in a gray silk frock with a matching jacket, and her blue eyes were bright with laughter. “Well, hello, Lily. I’m so glad you could spare a few hours from your laundry enterprise to come to our party.”

  Seeing Mrs. Tibbet, Lily recalled an idea that had been brewing in the back of her mind since her first encounter with the Suds Row woman. She returned her hostess’s smile. “It was kind of you to invite me.”

  Mrs. Tibbet put one hand to her forehead. “1 don’t begin to know how I’ll get everything back normal, though. It will take hours just to wash the dishes.”

  The older woman already looked tired; she’d probably spent much of the day preparing for the party. Sandra had been around to assist, of course, but there was no telling how much help she would be. “I’ll be happy to stay and lend a hand,” Lily offered. “There is something—or I should say someone—I’d like to talk to you about, however.”

  Mrs. Tibbet looked pleased. “Caleb?” she asked, causing Lily to wince and Corporal Pierce to frown.

  Lily was quick to dispel that notion. “No. I have a—a friend who might want a housekeeping position,” she announced. Considering that she hadn’t raised the subject to Velvet Hughes, it was a rash statement, but Lily didn’t care.

  The older woman’s face shone with interest and relief. “Oh, Lily—you must send her to see me at once.”

  “I will,” Lily promised, wondering what she was going to do if Velvet had no interest in the position.

  Mrs. Tibbet said a few more words and then moved on. A sidelong glimpse of Caleb showed that he was talking to Sandra now, and his eyes were full of that special laughter. Lily felt her throat go tight and sore.

  “Are you all right?” Wilbur asked, sounding really concerned.

  Lily recovered herself and smiled at her companion. “I wonder if you’d see fit to walk me down to Suds Row, Wilbur,” she said quietly. “There’s someone I want to see.”

  Wilbur’s eyebrows knitted together for a moment. “Suds Row?” he echoed.

  Lily nodded, swallowing another bite of cake.

  “I reckon you mean to go there even if I don’t escort you,” Wilbur said.

  Again Lily nodded. “Yes, I do, but I’d rather have your company, Wilbur.” She lowered her eyes for a moment. “I’d feel safer that way.”

  Wilbur rolled gracefully to his feet. “You just say the word when you’re ready to leave. Miss Lily, and I’ll take care of everything after that.”

  Lily reached out and squeezed his hand. She genuinely liked Wilbur, and she knew she’d have to be careful not to give him the wrong impression. Leading him on was the furthest thing from her mind, but she did want Caleb to see her leaving the party on the arm of another gentleman.

  The more scandalous the major’s thoughts on that subject, she reasoned, the better.

  There was another knock at the door, and Wilbur hurried off to answer. While he was engaged Lily finished her cake and punch and carried the dishes into the kitchen.

  Sandra was there, dressed in peacock blue, her face buried in a dish towel as she sobbed at the top of her lungs.

  “What is it, Sandra?” Lily asked, setting her dishes in the heaping sink so she could put an arm around Sandra’s shoulders.

  “I don’t want to go!” Sandra wailed.

  Lily’s voice was gentle, reasonable. “Then don’t.”

  Sandra lowered the dish towel with shaking hands. “I’ve fallen in love,” she confided tragically. Her beautiful violet eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, and the end of her nose was a glowing pink. She indulged in an inelegant sniffle.

  “Caleb?” Lily asked with a sinking heart.

  But Sandra shook her head. “Not at all. It’s Lieutenant Costner I love, and he’s asked me to marry him.”

  “Then what is the problem?” Lily asked, annoyed to feel so relieved.

  “Uncle John won’t give us his blessing. He says I’m impulsive, that I haven’t thought this through.”

  Lily believed the colonel was probably right, but she still felt sorry for Sandra. “You’ll just stay, then. In time your uncle will know your feelings for the lieutenant are real.”

  Sandra dabbed at her eyes with the dish towel. “There may not be any time, Lily,” she said miserably. “I think I’m expecting.”

  Lily was shocked, but she did a good job of hiding the fact. She said nothing, waiting for Sandra to go on.

  “The night of the ball Robert and I got carried away. We slipped away to his room in the barracks, and—and—” Sandra began to cry again, the sound muffled by the dish towel as she pressed it to her face once more.

  “Sandra, that was only a few days ago,” Lily reasoned. “How could you possibly know—”

  “I was supposed to get the curse,” Sandra broke in in a desolate whisper, “and I didn’t. It’s always just as regular as can be!”

  Lily sighed. “Perhaps you’d better tell your aunt,” she said, but Sandra shook her head wildly at the idea.

  “I can’t—not after what happened before.”

  “I don’t think you have any choice.”

  “You do it—you tell them for me!” Sandra cried. “They both like you. They’d understand if you explained it.”

  But Lily shook her head. “It’s your place to tell them, Sandra, not mine. But I will send Mrs. Tibbet in to see you if you’d like.”

  Sandra drew a deep, quivering breath, then nodded in reckless decision. “All right,” she snuffled.

  Lily went out, found her hostess, and sent her back to the kitchen. She was just rejoining the party when Wilbur appeared again.

  “The rain’s let up a little, Miss Lily. Maybe we’d better head for Suds Row right now, if we’re going.”

  Lily nodded her agreement, and before she could even make her excuses Wilbur was back with her cloak. He draped it over her shoulders in a solicitous way.

  The weather was still cool, and Lily lifted the
hood of her cloak as she and Wilbur moved down te walk to the gate.

  “Where are you from originally?” she asked, to make polite conversation.

  Wilbur smiled, revealing teeth as fine and white as Caleb’s. “Kansas,” he replied. “My folks have a farm there.”

  “Do you miss Kansas?”

  He considered, then nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I do. But a man’s got to make his own way in the world, and I’m no farmer.”

  Lily felt a twinge of disappointment at that, even though she hadn’t consciously considered Wilbur as a life partner. “That’s what I want to be more than anything,” she said. “A farmer.”

  It was plain that Wilbur was disappointed, too. “A farmer? You, Miss Lily?”

  She nodded. “I came west on an orphan train,” she explained. “Ever since then I’ve wanted a place all my own. I plan to raise my own crops and sleep under my own roof and not be accountable to anybody.”

  Wilbur’s stride was easy, his arms swinging at his sides, but his expression was troubled. “I don’t reckon you’re the type of woman that changes her mind very often, are you?”

  Lily shook her head. “No, Wilbur. I’m not.”

  He turned a bright smile on her. “Well, I was planning on courting you. But I guess we can be friends. That’s probably easier than courting anyway, and it won’t make my palms sweat.”

  Lily laughed and linked her arm through Wilbur’s. “We can be the best of friends,” she said.

  Caleb stood on the Tibbet porch, gazing after Lily through the thin veil of rain sliding down from the porch roof. He’d been employing the tactics the colonel had recommended, and he’d liked the results—until he’d noticed Lily leaving the house with Corporal Pierce.

  When he’d seen her take that green kid’s arm and look up at him as though he’d just cured all the ills of humanity in a single sentence, Caleb had wanted to vault over the porch railing and run after them, shouting protests like a fool. He ached, knowing Lily wouldn’t have made such a familiar gesture with him, even after all they’d been to each other.

  Saddened, Caleb turned and opened the door to go inside. He almost collided with Gertrude Tibbet.

  “There you are,” she said somewhat breathlessly, fanning herself. “Mercy, but it’s warm in there, with all those people crowded in like pickles in a crock.”

  Caleb smiled and stepped back, knowing from long experience that Gertrude wanted to talk.

  “Where’s Lily?” she asked, still fanning herself with one hand as she sat down on the porch swing.

  Caleb leaned against a pillar, his arms folded across his chest, his back to the disappearing figures of Lily and her friend. He moved his shoulders in a shrug. “How would I know?”

  “I’d guess you know exactly, Caleb Halliday.”

  div>

  He chuckled ruefully. “Guilty,” he said. “I just saw her leave with Corporal Pierce.”

  Gertrude frowned for a moment, but then the disturbing thought, whatever it was, moved on, and her face was all mischief and amusement. “She was watching you, you know. Stealing glances whenever she thought you weren’t looking.”

  The knowledge made Caleb feel better. “What was it you wanted to talk to me about?” he prodded.

  Gertrude sighed. “It seems Sandra isn’t going back to Fox Chapel after all. She and Robert Costner are in love.”

  “I see,” Caleb said noncommittally. He wished Sandra every happiness, but he had little confidence in her judgment; the woman didn’t know her own mind.

  “She believes she may be pregnant.”

  Caleb refrained from commenting.

  “Considering what happened last time, I have to take into account the distressing possibility that she’s right. She wants to stay, Caleb, and marry Robert.”

  Had they been discussing anyone else, Caleb might have suggested that marriage could settle a woman down. Since they were talking about Sandra, he said nothing of the kind. “Is Costner the father?”

  Gertrude smoothed her skirts, modestly lowering her eyes at the delicacy of the subject. “Yes, according to Sandra, he is.”

  Caleb felt sorry for the young lieutenant because he knew how flighty and irresponsible Sandra could be. “I wish them all the best,” he said with resignation. “That’s kind of you, keeping in mind all that’s gone before. I’m afraid I still need a favor, though.”

  “What?” Caleb asked, and his voice sounded wary even though there were few things he would refuse this woman.

  “Sandra decided, during our discussion, to go home to Fox Chapel for the wedding. Lieutenant Costner will join her there in a few weeks, when he has completed his tour of duty. I’d like you to see my niece safely to the train in Spokane.”

  Even though Caleb dreaded the prospect, he agreed readily. And he had other reasons for cooperating besides his fondness for Gertrude Tibbet. For one thing, in Spokane he could make arrangements to hire the Pinkerton agency to find Lily’s sisters.

  “Lily’s brother lives in Spokane, you know,” Gertrude said in an offhand tone.

  Lily had mentioned her adopted brother to Caleb, but he couldn’t remember the man’s name. “Any idea what he’s called?”

  Gertrude smiled as though some cherished secret suspicion had been confirmed. “No, but if you asked Lily, I’m sure she’d tell you.”

  Caleb had his doubts that Lily would even speak to him, but he nodded an acknowledgment anyway, his gaze straying down the street in the hope of seeing her return.

  Gertrude chuckled. “It’s wonderful to see you falling in love at last, Caleb. I was beginning to think I’d never dance at your wedding.”

  Caleb went to the porch swing and sat down beside her, taking her hand in his and giving her knuckles a brief kiss. He didn’t know if he was in love, but he wasn’t about to spoil Gertrude’s delight. “If I can’t have you,” he teased, “I’ll have to settle.”

  “She’ll still be giving you trouble when you’re ninety, you know. Lily’s exactly what you need, Caleb. She’ll try your patience many a time, but she’ll also bring out the best that’s in you. And she’ll give you fine, handsome children.”

  Caleb allowed himself to imagine Lily bearing him a child and felt his groin tighten. “Are you suggesting that I court her?” he asked in a light voice, to cover the sweet despair he felt.

  “I know what John told you,” Gertrude answered, “and to a great degree I think he’s right. Lily’s the kind of person that’s got to be challenged; she doesn’t believe that anything worthwhile comes easily.”

  Caleb got up and walked to the porch railing again, bracing his hands on the whitewashed wood, searching the distance for Lily, but there was no sign of her. “I think she may drive me crazy before too long,” he said.

  Gertrude laughed, and the swing hinges creaked. She came and patted him gently on the back. “That’s a sure sign she’s the right one,” she said. And then she went back inside to the party.

  Caleb remained outside. He had an idea that, for him, the party was over.

  When Lily and Wilbur reached Velvet’s ramshackle house on Suds Row Judd Ingram wasn’t in evidence.

  Lily was mightily relieved about that. “May we come in?” she asked as Velvet gazed at her callers in bewilderment through the rusted, torn screen door.

  Velvet sighed and stepped back. She was wearing a wrapper, and there was a high flush to her face. “Lord knows why you’d want to,” she muttered.

  “I’ve come to talk to you about another kind of work,” Lily ventured bravely, looking around the one-room cottage. Although it was shabby, and in such poor repair that it looked as if it might fall over, the place was spotlessly clean.

  “What kind of work?” Velvet asked, tightening the belt of her worn wrapper and eyeing Lily with suspicious hope.

  “Housekeeping. Mrs. Tibbet is badly in need of someone to clean for her, and cook meals—”

  Velvet let out a guffaw of rude laughter. “Mrs. Tibbet, is it? The wife of the colonel hims
elf? She wouldn’t let nobody like me come to her back door, let alone dust the gewgaws in her fancy parlor!”

  “You won’t know that until you talk with her, will you?” Lily challenged, folding her arms and jutting out her chin. Wilbur stood uneasily at her side, and it occurred to Lily that he was probably no stranger to this place.

  “Can you get me a in-tro-duction, Miss Snooty Shoes?” Velvet countered.

  “Yes, I can, as a matter of fact. That’s why I’m here—to ask you to come back with me right now. Mrs. Tibbet’s having a party, and there’s going to be a mess to clean up afterwards. This is your chance to show her what you can do.”

  At last a hopeful look came over Velvet’s face. She narrowed her eyes at Lily. “Is this a trick?”

  Lily began to tap one foot in impatience. “It would serve you right if it was, after what you did to my wash, but the fact of the matter is that Mrs. Tibbet has need of a housekeeper. Someone she can count on.”

  “Wait outside, the both of you, while I put on some clothes,” Velvet grumbled, waving Lily and Wilbur toward the porch.

  They went to stand on the steps. The rain was coming down hard again, and Lily looked forward to going home to her little place. She’d have a light supper, then heat water for a nice hot bath. And after the bath she’d read more about Typhoon Sally.

  “I’m ready,” Velvet announced gruffly, appearing on the porch in a neatly pressed black and white dress and carrying an umbrella with one bent spoke. “This better not be no joke, little Miss Lily, because if it is, I’ll sell you to the first Indian that comes down the road.”

  Lily stifled a smile at that and squeezed Wilbur’s arm, since he was glowering at Velvet. “It’s all right,” she said softly. “She doesn’t mean any harm.”

  “We’ll see about that,” put in Velvet, who evidently had very good hearing.

  They reached the Tibbet house just as the drizzle became a downpour and they dashed in through the back door.

  Mrs. Tibbet was there, frantically trying to wash up a few dishes so that newly arrived guests could be served.