Lily and the Major

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Lily and the Major Page 34

by Linda Lael Miller


  “It’s not as if I’m going to New York or somewhere,” Lily pointed out. “I’m only returning to the homestead, where I belong.”

  “You know damned well that Caleb will be furious!”

  “I don’t care,” Lily answered, and she meant it. “I mean to bear that man girls as well as boys, and I won’t have him treating my daughters like idiots.”

  Rupert looked as though he might be suffering from a headache, and he sighed. “What a fine kettle of fish this is,” he muttered. “Lily, you can’t leave like this. It isn’t safe.”

  Lily remembered the last time she’d left Spokane without Caleb. She’d ended up with ants crawling all over her body, and she hadn’t thought to bring matches for a fire. If Caleb hadn’t come along when he had, she’d have spent a long, cold, and hungry night. Her conviction wavered for a moment until she settled on the idea of finding another place to stay until morning.

  Her pride would not allow her to go back to the hotel like a meek little wife now that her course had been set.

  “Do come and visit us soon,” she said, patting Rupert’s cheek. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you at the hotel tonight for supper.”

  “You are impossible,” Rupert said. “I have half a mind to take you straight to the woodshed and blister your behind.”

  Lily wasn’t worried; she knew her brother didn’t have a violent bone in his body. “Good night, Rupert,” she said, and then she turned and walked down the path to the gate.

  “Lily!” Rupert shouted after her. “You come back here this instant!”

  “Do give my regards to Winola!” she called back, practically singing the words.

  Finding a boarding house took time, but Lily managed. When nightfall came she was seated at the table of a Miss Hermione Cartworth eating lamb stew, her hired horses and surrey safely stowed in that lady’s backyard.

  Several times during the night Lily had cause to regret her decision, but she was too stubborn to go back to the hotel and face Caleb. Besides, she wanted him to know that he couldn’t treat her like a brainless concubine and get away with it.

  Early the next morning Lily hitched horses and surrey together and started out for home, carefully avoiding the center of town. It was a bright, sunny June morning, and as she traveled she thought happily of the new dresses she would make.

  She was a little surprised to find that Caleb had reached home ahead of her, and she had to gather up all her courage to drive the surrey across the creek and face him, but she did those things.

  Caleb’s expression was tnderous. “Where the hell have you been?” he growled, his arms folded across his chest.

  “I stayed the night in a boarding house,” Lily answered as she climbed down from the surrey. “Did you and Winola and Rupert have a nice dinner together?”

  He glared at her. “Get in that house!”

  “And do what?” Lily retorted. “Write ‘I will not disobey my husband’ a thousand times?”

  “Move!” Caleb roared.

  Lily’s aplomb fled in an instant, and she dashed toward the door of the cabin. “I’ll thank you to remember that I’m in the family way,” she was quick to say. She was recalling that other time, when Caleb would have paddled her if Velvet hadn’t happened along just in time to prevent it.

  Inside the cabin Caleb set Lily in a chair and proceeded to deliver a lecture that was, in many ways, worse than a spanking. He shouted, he listed the perils of traveling alone, he swore by all that was holy that if Lily ever did such a stupid thing again he’d wring her neck.

  Lily’s eyes were wide by the time he began to wind down, and when he sent her to the bedroom she went.

  When Caleb came to her it was from a different direction than expected. A terrible racket arose on the other side of the bedroom wall, and Lily watched in horrified amazement as an ax bit through the new wood.

  Furiously Caleb shaped a rude door. “Now,” he said, tossing the ax behind him, “it’s all one house. Welcome to our bedroom, Mrs. Halliday.”

  Lily was convinced she’d married a madman. “You stay away from me,” she said, scooting backwards on the bed.

  She didn’t move fast enough. Caleb caught hold of one of her legs, lifted it high, and began untying her shoelace. “There isn’t a chance in hell of that, sodbuster,” he said, and then he began rolling Lily’s stocking down. She trembled as his hand caressed her inner thigh for the briefest moment. “Not a chance in hell.”

  Only when the lovemaking was over and Caleb had risen from the bed did Lily’s pride come back into its own. The moment he stepped through the hacked-out opening into his side of the house she moved the bureau in front of the opening.

  “You stay on your side,” she said when she saw him through the opening above the chest of drawers, “and I’ll keep to mine.”

  As usual, Caleb had expected his romantic attentions to make everything all right between them. “Damn it, Lily,” he growled, bracing his hands on the bureau top and leaning forward ominously, “we’re married!”

  “As far as I’m concerned, we can just forget that unfortunate fact.”

  “That’s fine with me,” Caleb snapped. And then he turned and stormed away.

  Lily returned to the kitchen and began washing dishes. When she finished she carefully carried the dirty water outside and flung it over Caleb’s property line.

  Since he wa saddling his horse in the side yard, he saw the gesture. Although he glared at her, he didn’t speak; he simply mounted his horse and rode off toward Fort Deveraux.

  He probably meant to reenlist, Lily thought contemptuously. Heaven knew the major wasn’t happy unless he had somebody to boss around.

  At noon a freight wagon arrived, bringing Caleb’s new stove and a number of other things in boxes and crates. Without setting foot on Caleb’s side of the property Lily explained to the men where to put things.

  When Caleb returned from the fort hours later he was carrying another wriggling burlap sack. He frowned at Lily, daring her to object, as he led the horse across her part of the land and into the combination stable and chicken coop.

  After he came out he carried the burlap sack to the chopping block.

  Lily was sewing—cutting out the pattern had been a far more difficult task because she’d had to give up the use of Caleb’s dining room table—when he began rattling and banging next door. He was setting up the stove, Lily figured, and she got a little wistful when she thought of that big hot-water reservoir. Why, a person would be able to take a hot bath any time she wanted.

  The pounding soon subsided, only to be replaced within a short time by the delectable smell of boiling chicken.

  Lily put aside the dress she was stitching to go and close the door of her bedroom, but the delicious aroma still wafted through.

  By then it was late afternoon, and the bread and butter Lily had eaten for lunch had definitely worn off. She wondered what to fix for supper.

  She was putting away the dress, too hungry and tired to sew anymore, when she saw Caleb through the bedroom window. He had a fishing pole in one hand, and he was headed down the creek.

  Lily’s stomach grumbled in accompaniment to her thoughts. Here was her chance to raid Caleb’s kitchen.

  After taking one more look to make sure he wasn’t doubling back Lily scrambled over the bureau she’d used to bar the door and entered enemy territory.

  There were soft, colorful rugs rolled out on the floor, and in the kitchen chicken and dumplings bubbled on the surface of that wonderful stove.

  Lily sneaked up and lifted the lid of the reservoir to look inside. Sure enough, Caleb had filled it with water, and it was steaming now. She thought with a sigh of the luxurious bath she might have taken that night, using that very water.

  Dishes lined the shelves of Caleb’s well-organized kitchen, so Lily helped herself to a large bowl. She filled it with chicken and dumplings—whatever else he might have been, Caleb was a creditable cook—and sat down at his table, bold as brass.
The luscious delight of sampling the forbidden filled her as she began to eat.

  She consumed two bowlfuls of the delicious food; then, leaving her dish on the table to let Caleb know she’d flouted his property line, she started back through the house.

  She had one knee up on the bureau and was just about to crawl through when she felt two hands close around her waist and pull her down. She turned her head and saw Caleb grinning at her.

  “Trespassing, were you? Well, sodbuster, there’s a penalty for that, you know.”

  Lily put out her chin and turned to crawl over the bureau. She wasn’t about to dignify his remark with an answer.

  “If that’s how you want it, fine,” he said, and he pinned her right to that bureau, with her bottom making a plump cushion against his masculinity.

  “Caleb Halliday,” Lily sputtered, “you let me up!”

  Caleb was lifting her skirts. “I don’t deal lightly with trespassers,” he said in a conversational tone of voice. “Give ’em an inch, and pretty soon they’re swinging from the rafters.”

  Lily felt her drawers begin to slide downward. She squirmed, but she was stuck between Caleb’s thighs. “Caleb,” she said, “I am not amused.”

  He laid a brazen finger to the rosebud between her legs and chuckled when she started with a little moan. He continued to caress her, making her go all warm and moist. Considering that he’d already had her, and well, earlier that day, her involuntary response was doubly humiliating.

  “You know,” he remarked, “in some places they hang a chicken thief. I think the penalty’s probably even stiffer when dumplings are involved.”

  “I hate you!” Lily sputtered, her hips twisting. His fingers slid into her femininity in one deft move. “Do you?”

  “Oh, Caleb—”

  “Yes, dear?”

  Lily didn’t want to like being touched, and she definitely didn’t want to love Caleb. She didn’t get her way in either case. “Take me to your bed.”

  His answer was immediate. “Oh, no. I’m going to take you right here, Mrs. Halliday. And right now.”

  Lily imagined what a picture she must make, doubled over that dresser with her skirts up. “That’s awful!”

  “No worse than some of the other places we’ve made love,” Caleb sighed. He removed his fingers and replaced them with just the tip of his shaft.

  “Oh, my God,” Lily gasped, clutching the edge of the bureau in both hands.

  “It’s a religious experience for me, too,” Caleb commented, giving her another small ration of what she craved.

  “You—are—reprehensible!”

  “And what else?”

  “Hard. Oh, God, Caleb, you are so hard.”

  He chuckled and gave her most of his length in a gentle stroke.

  Lily whimpered as he parted her legs to enter her even more deeply. A sweet tingle, stemming from the core of her womanhood, fanned out into her thighs and torso. Her breasts ached for his touch. “Faster,” she whispered. “Oh, Caleb, please—do it faster.”

  For once . He remomplied with her request instead of making her wait until the waiting became unbearable. He gave himself to her in hard, fast strokes, and she flung her head back, her back arching with each powerful tremor of release.

  Caleb made a ferocious thrust and emptied himself into her, groaning. When it was over he stood trembling against her, squeezing her bottom gently in his hands. Within a matter of minutes Lily felt him growing hard inside her again.

  “I’ll want you in my bed, Mrs. Halliday,” Caleb said formally, pulling back just when Lily wanted more of him. “Go there and wait for me.”

  Lily’s brief rebellion was over, and she knew it, but since defeat was so delicious, she unbent herself from the bureau, pulled up her drawers, and crossed the large room to Caleb’s bed. Her knees were so pleasure-weakened that they would barely support her.

  When he came to her, she held out her arms to him.

  Chapter

  23

  Lily’s corn stood a head taller than she did on that hot day in early July when she and Caleb were to leave for the east. Dressed in her traveling clothes—a green and white striped shirtwaist with an emerald skirt—Lily walked up and down the rows, inspecting the rich green stocks and touching the tassels of yellow-white silk. She’d planted and weeded and watered this corn, and she wasn’t even going to eat any of it.

  Deciding there was no use in fussing, since she’d made up her mind to go with Caleb wherever he went, Lily strode resolutely back between the rows, moving toward the house. She almost screamed when she encountered Charlie Fast Horse among the whispering stalks. He was backing toward her, and when they collided he gave a yelp.

  ‘If you’re looking for the major,” Lily said stiffly, “he’s gone to the post to say his farewells.”

  Charlie put a finger to his lips. “Keep your voice down, missus,” he said. “There’s outlaws on the way. They aren’t more than a mile or two down the road, and sound carries on a day like this.”

  Lily felt the color drain from her face. “Well, a lot of use you’ll be, hiding in a cornfield!” She grasped her skirts and started for the house. She meant to get a rifle from Caleb’s gun cabinet while there was still time.

  Charlie followed, whispering and gesturing. “It’s best we just stay here, missus—let them take what they want and move on. If they get a look at you, there’s no telling what’ll happen.”

  They were going to get a look at Lily, all right. They’d see her staring back at them, right down the barrel of a gun. “How many are there?”

  “Five, six,” Charlie responded. “Too many.”

  “Some Indian you are,” Lily complained. She raced up the steps of Caleb’s fancy veranda and through the side door, with Charlie right behind her. “Can you shoot, at least?”

  “Ofcourse I can shoot,” Charlie grumbled.

  “Then where is your rifle?”

  The Indian sighed. “My horse ran away, and the rifle was in the scabbard.”

  Lily found the key to the gun cabinet, unlocked it, and took out a shotgun. She’d been practicing her shooting, and while she was never going to be invited to perform in wild west shows, she could at least fire without falling down. “Here,” she said, shoving the shotgun at Charlie. She gave him some shells from a drawer before selecting a thirty-thirty for herself and loading it the way Caleb had taught her to do.

  “How do you know these men are outlaws, and not just men out riding?” she asked practically, marching to the window to scan the horizon. She wondered if Caleb was nearby, and if he’d spotted the riders.

  “They’ve got a look about them,” Charlie answered. “Besides, white men don’t ride in groups bigger than two, usually, unless they’re part of an army detachment.”

  Lily could see the visitors in the distance, beyond the creek. The hooves of their horses raised dust, which swirled in the hot July breeze. Counting five of them, Lily cocked her rifle. “You’d better ride to the fort and fetch Caleb,” she said without looking at Charlie. “If these men are outlaws, they should be arrested.”

  “I told you,” said Charlie. “My horse ran off.”

  “Then take mine. He’s in the shed.”

  Still Charlie hesitated. “I don’t like leaving you here alone, missus. You’d better come with me.”

  “And let those rascals rifle my house? Not on your life, Charlie Fast Horse. Now get out of here.”

  Reluctantly Charlie left, hurrying noiselessly out through the part of the house that had been Lily’s. It was mostly used as a storage room now, and she hoped to change her bedroom into a newfangled bathroom one day, provided she and Caleb ever returned to Washington Territory.

  The sun was bright, but Lily didn’t let herself squint as she watched the five riders approaching at a steady pace. She tensed a little when one of them pointed—having spotted Charlie dashing for the fort, no doubt—but none of them gave chase.

  Lily gnawed at her lower lip as she waited. Wha
t did Charlie know? These men probably weren’t outlaws at all. They could be a posse, for one thing, or a band of politicians going to visit the fort.

  Perspiration tickled between Lily’s breasts as she waited.

  Finally they were crossing the creek. The leader, a fair-haired man riding a pinto gelding, swept off his broad-brimmed hat and assessed the homestead.

  “Hello the house!” he called.

  After drawing a deep breath Lily opened the door and stepped outside, the thirty-thirty in hand.

  The men chuckled and grinned at the sight of the rifle.

  Lily cocked it, just to show them she wasn’t some greenhorn trying to bluff her way out of a bad situatio. “What’s your business?”

  The leader rode forward a little way. “We’re just looking to water our horses and rest a spell, ma’am. That’s all.”

  “Go ahead, then,” Lily said, and soon the horses were drinking thirstily from the creek while four of the men splashed their dusty faces and the backs of their necks with the cold water.

  “You alone here?” the leader asked.

  Lily managed a taut smile. “For a little while, yes.”

  The stranger took a step closer, and Lily responded by training her sights on him. He held both hands out from his sides in a nonchalant gesture of peace. He was a slender man clad in dark trousers, a vest, and a shirt that had once been white.

  “Don’t shoot, little lady. We ain’t here to hurt you.”

  Lily didn’t lower the rifle. “I’ve heard you’re outlaws. Is that true?”

  “Word gets around fast in these parts,” one of the other four seedy travelers put in. He was fat, and he wore a Chinese mustache and a dusty top hat that might once have graced a gentleman’s head.

  “Shut up, Royce,” said the man in the vest.

  “Your horses have been watered,” Lily put in. “I think it would be best if you just moved on now.”

  They all laughed as though Lily had made a joke, and in the next instant someone grasped her from behind, covering her mouth with one hand and wresting the rifle away with the other.

 

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