Velvet edged the older woman away from the sink with a motion of her broad hips. “I’ll take care of that, missus,” she said.
Mrs. Tibbet stared at Velvet, and then at Lily. “Who is this?” she demanded. She sounded stern, but there was a note of hope in her voice.
“May I present Miss Velvet Hughes,” Lily answered, tying an apron around her waist and reaching for a dish towel even as Velvet brought the hot water kettle from the stove. “She’d like to be your new housekeeper.”
“I can speak for myself,” Velvet said, blushing and avoiding Mrs. Tibbet’s gaze. “It’s true I want a job, ma’am.”
“You may work for me today,” Mrs. Tibbet said. “We’ll discuss the future after all these people have gone and I’ve had a chance to put up my feet and take a sip of tea.”
“Here, soldier,” Velvet said gruffly, thrusting a bucket into Wilbur’s hands. “Go get us some water.”
Wilbur started to shove the bucket back at Velvet, but after a glance at Lily he went to the pump in the backyard and began working the lever.
“Here, now,” Mrs. Tibbet protested as Lily started drying and putting away the dishes her hostess had managed to wash. “You’re a guest in this house.”
Lily smiled and continued to work. “You wouldn’t take away the first real chance I’ve had to repay you for all your kindness, would you?”
Mrs. Tibbet was about to protest, but then she saw that it was no good. She left the kitchen to entertain her guests, Wilbur went back outside for another bucket of well water, and Lily set to work. Beside her Velvet hummed a little tune as she scrubbed dainty crystal dessert plates.
Chapter
10
Good luck,” Lily said to Velvet when the last dish was washed and they were alone in the kitchen. Wilbur had gone to the barracks, and they could hear the final guests saying their farewells to the Tibbets.
Velvet looked panic-stricken, standing there in her best dress, her hands dripping soapy water. “You’re not going to leave me to talk to her all alone, are you?”
“Yes,” Lily replied firmly, raising both hands to smooth back her steam-dampened hair. “You’re perfectly capable of winning the position on your own.” With that, she took her cloak from the peg beside the back door, draped it over her shoulders, lifted the hood, and tied the strings under her chin.
She was opening the door when Velvet stopped her with a hoarse “Lily?”
Lily stopped and looked back over one shoulder. “Yes?”
“Thank you.”
Lily smiled. “You’re welcome, Velvet.”
It was very dark, except for pools of light from the street lamps, and Lily hurried along the sidewalk, anxious to get home. When she arrived at her tiny house smoke was curling from the chimney and the windows glowed golden.
Lily went up and stood in the empty flower bed to peer in through the glass, and she was incensed to see Caleb sitting at the table, smoking a pipe as if he owned the place.
She shoved open the door and stormed inside to demand, “What are you doing here, Caleb Halliday?”
He gave her a distant, noncommittal glance. “You were almost out of firewood,” he said, “so I brought you some from my place. I’ll have more delivered in a few days.”
“Couldn’t you have told me that without walking into my house and making yourself at home?”
The insolent grin she expected did not curve Caleb’s lips. He only sighed and drew once on his pipe before saying, “April evenings can be cold. I wanted to make sure you were warm, that’s all.”
Lily felt foolish, and she was strangely disappointed in Caleb’s reaction. “Well, I don’t like smoking in my house,” she snapped.
“When you get a house that belongs to you, and not the army, I guess you’ll be able to dictate things like that,” Caleb responded evenly. He sounded abjectly bored. “Sit down, Lily. We have some things to talk about.”
Too weary to argue, Lily took off her cloak and sat, her chin propped in her hands.
“Have you had your supper?”
“I’m not a child, Caleb. I’ll eat when I’m hungry.”
His powerful shoulders rose in a shrug, and he got up to help himself to coffee from the pot on Lily’s stove with not so much as a by-your-leave. “Fine. Tell me about your brother.”
Lily narrowed her eyes as Caleb sat down again, coffee mug in hand. Not only was the man presumptuous, he was thoughtless, too. It wouldn’t have hurt him to pour a cup for his hostess. “His name is Rupert Sommers, and he’s a schoolteacher,” she said wearily.
“And your sisters?”
Lily got up and went to the stove for coffee of her own, mostly in order to hide her reaction to the question. On nights like this, when she was tired and a little discouraged, it seemed she’d never find them. “I’ve told you about them. What more do you want to know?”
“I’m just generally curious,” Caleb replied. “Indulge me.”
“Their names are Caroline and Emma. Caroline is the eldest—she’d be twenty-one by now. She has dark hair and brown eyes. Emma is twenty, and her hair is the color of copper and gold mixed together. Her eyes are blue.”
“Is that all you know about them?”
“I haven’t seen them in thirteen years, Caleb.” Lily came back to the table holding her coffee mug in both hands. “We used to sing together,” she recalled wistfully as she sat down again. The words of the special song trailed through her mind.
Three flowers bloomed in the meadow … heads bent in sweet repose … the daisy, the lily, and the rose …
“Emma had the truest voice,” she said aloud. “And Caroline liked to boss everybody around—especially me.”
For the first time Caleb spared a slight grin. “That’s natural, since you’re the youngest.”
Lily heard Caroline’s voice in her mind, husky and brisk. Hurry up and button your shoes, Lily-dilly … don’t cry, everything will be all right, I promise … when I get big I’m going to be rich and buy you the prettiest dresses in the world…. “Do you have brothers and sisters?”
The expression in Caleb’s eyes was one of profound sorrow, though he quickly disguised it. “I have an older brother. Joss, and a younger sister, Abigail.”
“Do they live in Pennsylvania—in Fox Chapel?”
Caleb nodded remotely, then countered with a question of his own. “You and Emma and Caroline all had the same father?”
That seemed rather personal, but Lily was too weary to spar with Caleb. She just wanted her supper and a bath. “I don’t know,” she said honestly, because the shame had worn off a long time ago. “But we all went by the same last name.”
Caleb shoved back his chair and stood. “Sandra and I have to get an early start tomorrow,” he said lightly. There was still that strange distance about him, as though he’d never held Lily in his arms, never moved inside her in unrestrained passion.
She was relieved, but she was also hurt. A woman’s virtue was a precious thing, and she’d given it to him. Now he seemed to have no more than the most superficial interest in her. “Good night, Caleb,” she said as he went to the door.
He didn’t even meet her eyes directly, much less kiss her. “Good night,” he answered, and Lily knew from his tone that his mind had gone on without her, like a train she’d just missed.
Lily told herself it was just as well that Caleb’s ardor had cooled, since she had no intention of marrying him anyway. She got the bucket from behind the stove. The water for her bath might as well be heating while she made herself supper.
After she’d had her potato and two thick slices of bacon Lily fetched the largest wash kettle from its peg by the back stoop and set it in the middle of the floor. Soon steam was rolling up as she poured pot after pot of hot water into it.
Because she had only thin calico curtains to cover the windows, Lily blew out all the lanterns but one before taking off her clothes and stepping into the tub. She was standing there, naked as a Greek statue, when the doo
r suddenly opened and a gust of cool night air raised goosebumps all over her body.
“I forgot my hat,” Caleb announced flatly, but his amber eyes burned as they moved over Lily’s naked form.
She covered both breasts with her arms and lifted one thigh in an attempt to hide herself. She was so angry that for a long moment she just stood there, staring and shivering. Then she snapped, “Get out.”
“You should lock the doors at night, Lily,” Caleb reasoned, collecting his hat from the peg beside the door. “I could have been a client.”
Lily was seething. “Believe me,” she ground out, “I’ll lock it the moment you step outside.”
Caleb chuckled and walked around behind Lily for another perspective. She turned, of course, but she wasn’t quick enough.
She watched in helpless fury as he tossed his hat onto the table and raised his hands to his hips. “You know, Lily,” he remarked easily, “if you don’t get on with that bath of yours, the water’s going to get cold.”
“I’d be happy to finish my bath,” Lily hissed, “if only you’d leave!”
He laughed, then caught her suddenly around the waist with his hands. He raised her out of the water, and she was trapped against his chest. “I want a good-bye kiss first,” he said.
“You’ll be lucky if I don’t bite off your nose!” Lily spat. She prayed no one was passing by the window and seeing her naked body silhouetted against Caleb’s frame.
“Will I?” He carried her across the room and tossed her onto the bed.
Before Lily could get up he was stretched out beside her, his hand makng a tantalizing circle on her bare stomach. She whimpered and turned her head to one side, searching inside herself for the power to resist him and finding nothing there but yearnings of the most primitive kind. He took advantage of her motion to trail his lips along the length of her neck.
“Tell me to go away, Lily,” he challenged in a velvet whisper. “Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll leave.”
Lily moaned and dragged in a gasping breath when he left her neck suddenly and closed his lips over a distended nipple. Sweet fire raged through her as Caleb reached down to part her legs with his hand.
“What’s the matter, Lily?” he asked between greedy forays at her breast. “Could it be that you have even more passion than pride? Remarkable.” His hand caressed her until she was warm and wet and twisting.
He stopped her by thrusting his fingers deep inside, and she arched her back and uttered his name in a low, lusty cry.
“Take me,” she whispered, writhing as he ministered to her with a gentle ferocity that singed her very soul. “Oh. Caleb, please …”
He reached out to turn down the wick on the last lamp, then quickly removed his clothes. When he stretched out over Lily he raised her hands above her head and closed her fingers over the iron bars of the bedstead.
She held on tighter and tighter as he slid down her body, pausing here and there to kiss, to suckle, to caress. She was thrashing from side to side like a wild creature, entrapped, by the time he caught her hips between his commanding hands and forced her to lie still for his entrance.
Her palms perspired, making her grip on the bedstead tenuous, and she tilted back her head in ecstasy as he slowly filled her with himself. Instinct caused her to bend her knees so that she could take more of him.
Lily could tell by the quivering in Caleb’s long, muscular body that he was barely able to control himself, and she wanted to push him over the edge. Still holding onto the bars above her head, Lily raised her hips in a quick upward thrust, and the motion dragged a fevered groan from him.
The bedsprings creaked as he drove into her once, twice, a third time, and Lily bit down on her lower lip to keep from shouting her desires and needs for everyone in the fort to hear.
With each joyous collision of their bodies Lily became more and more excited. When the friction became too sweet and too fiery to be borne any longer, Caleb caught her cries in his mouth and sent his own back to her.
In one ferocious moment his forceful body tensed, and his groan echoed through Lily to curl her toes.
For a long time they lay still together, naked, gilded by the strained moonlight pouring in through the curtains. Then Caleb got up without a word and put his clothes back on.
Lily pulled the quilt over her and rolled to one side so that her back was to him. Now that her passion had been appeased, her pride was back in force, and it was painfully bruised.
She heard the clank of metal against metal, then felt a cold rush of air as Caleb opened the back door and went out. She knew he’d gone to the pump for more water.
Lily didn’t move until much later, when he crossed the room to swat her lightly on her quilt-covered bottom. “Your bath water is hot again,” he said quietly. “Lock the door when I go.”
Lily turned to look up at him. “Caleb—”
He laid an index finger to her lips to silence her. “There’s been enough nonsense,” he told her matter-of-factly. “I’ll be away for a day or so. When I get back I want to find you living in my house, where you belong.”
Before Lily could recover enough to respond, he was gone.
She immediately dashed across the room and drove the bolt home, though it struck her, even then, that it was a little like locking the barn door after the horse had gotten away.
Without bothering to light any lamps Lily found the steaming tub in the darkness and sank into it. She could wash away the scent of Caleb, she knew, and the traces of his passion. But the need of him was a pounding ache deep inside her, where she couldn’t reach.
She took a long, thorough bath, then dried herself off and put on a prim flannel nightgown. If it hadn’t been for the soft glow of satisfaction within her she might have been able to pretend that Caleb Halliday had never existed.
In bed Lily pulled the covers up to her chin and cried, damning Caleb with everything that was in her and, at the same time, hurting because he’d left her to sleep alone.
First thing the next morning Velvet arrived at Lily’s door wearing her good percale dress again and carrying a single tattered suitcase. “I’m movin’ in with the Tibbets this mornin’,” she told Lily, with as much exuberance as if they’d been friends forever. “And I’ve got you to thank for it!”
Lily, who couldn’t do wash because the weather was even worse than it had been the day before, was writing another letter asking for information about her sisters. “Nonsense,” she replied. “You’re a good worker, and Mrs. Tibbet needed a housekeeper, so you got the job. It wasn’t anybody’s doing but your own.”
Velvet set her suitcase down and smoothed her skirts. “Do I look all right?”
Lily nodded. “I’ve got some coffee made, if you’d like a cup.”
But Velvet shook her head. “No time. I don’t want to be late.”
Lily felt disappointed, since company was especially nice on a rainy day. “I imagine you’ll have a room of your own at the Tibbets’,” she said.
Velvet nodded proudly. “It’s got the prettiest lace curtains, and those folks have a bathtub and a commode right inside the house.”
Lily smiled. “Impressive, all right.” Her expression sobered. “What about Judd?”
“I don’t want no more truck with the likes of him,” Velvet vowed with an angry motion of one hand. “And I figure he’ll leave me alone, since he’s scared of the colonel.”
Lily had a feeling Judd might not be that easily intimidated, but shedidn’t want to spoil Velvet’s good cheer, so she just nodded.
Velvet took up her suitcase and opened the door to go. “You watch out for Judd,” she warned earnestly. “He can’t be trusted nohow.”
Lily promised to be careful, and for good measure she left the table and locked the door as soon as Velvet had gone. Standing at the window watching her new friend hurry down the walk, Lily was possessed of a strange loneliness, a yearning for things she didn’t have, people she didn’t know, and places she’d never seen
.
Turning back to the table, she finished the first letter. After consulting her geography book she sighed and began another.
“I know what I’m doing, Caleb Halliday,” Sandra insisted, clutching the edges of the buggy seat as the rig jostled over rain-rutted roads.
Caleb favored her with a sidelong look. “I hope so,” he answered. “You’ve been able to get by with one faiied marriage, but two would put you on all the wrong lists.”
Sandra let go of the buggy seat and tugged at one of her gloves. Caleb knew the gesture was born of habit, not necessity. “I don’t need any lectures from you,” she said. “You aren’t my husband anymore.”
“I never was,” Caleb pointed out with a shrug.
Sandra settled herself again and made an obvious search of her mind for something to talk about. Then she brightened. “I’ll be seeing Joss and Abigail soon. Is there anything you want me to tell them?”
Caleb stiffened on the seat and quickened the horse’s pace, even though he knew it was moving fast enough. He didn’t look at Sandra. “No.”
He felt a small hand come to rest on his arm. “Caleb …”
He forced himself to relax. “All right. Tell Abigail I miss her—and I liked the socks she knitted for me last Christmas.”
Sandra’s sigh was on the dramatic side. “Honestly, Caleb, you can be such a curmudgeon. What will it take to make you go home—a family funeral?”
Caleb glared at Sandra, purposely trying to intimidate her. He didn’t like talking about home, or even thinking about it. But there was no ignoring the fact that the war had split the Halliday family like a piece of dry firewood, and there would be no mending it.
“The war’s over,” Sandra pressed softly, “and your side won. Why can’t you go back and shake your brother’s hand and put the whole thing behind you?”
“You don’t understand,” Caleb bit out, and this time he succeeded in forcing Sandra to subside a little.
“I should think you’d want them all to meet Lily,” she muttered, gazing out at the land with its rolling prairies and distant fringes of pine trees.
The mention of Lily reminded him of the night before, when he’d interrupted her bath, and Caleb smiled. “Lily’s got no desire to meet my family,” he said. “In fact, she doesn’t want anything to do with me or mine
Lily and the Major Page 16