Lily and the Major

by Linda Lael Miller

  Lily had never seen trapeze artists or lion tamers—or lions, for that matter—and she was openmouthed at the spectacular entertainments. The clowns made her laugh until she cried, and when Caleb bought her a caramel apple she wondered that such treats weren’t reserved just for angels.

  By the time Lily and Caleb returned to their room that night Lily was practically walking on air. If such wonderful things as circuses could exist, she reasoned, then Caroline must surely be alive and well somewhere. And so must Emma.

  “At least I know Caroline wanted to find Emma and me,” Lily said with a sigh when she and Caleb were settled side by side in their bed that night, too tired to make love.

  Caleb sounded surprised. “You doubted that?”

  Lily shrugged. “When a woman gets involved with a man, sometimes other things don’t matter to her anymore. And Caroline is involved with a man.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just do. That man with the drunken dog—well, I think perhaps he didn’t kidnap Caroline at all. She might have gone with him willingly.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Caleb answered, settling deep into his pillow and giving a great, noisy yawn. “Good night, Lily of the circus. I love you.”

  Lily bent and kissed his forehead. “And I love you,” she answered.

  Chapter

  24

  The house outside of Fox Chapel was a sprawling place built of red brick and covered with ivy. A long gravel driveway lined with venerable maple trees stretched from the main road to the base of the sloping green lawn.

  Caleb had rented a horse and buggy at the livery stable in town, and he drew back on the reins just as they would have passed beneath the archway of the gate. His left arm was still in a sling from the shooting, but he’d insisted on driving anyway.

  Lily waited, her hands folded in her lap. It had taken Caleb a long time to come home and face his brother, and he was in no hurry now.

  “I loved him,” he admitted hoarsely.

  Lily nodded. She certainly understood that. Sadness touched her spirit as she wondered if she would ever see either of her sisters again.

  Caleb swallowed. “I don’t know why I’m doing this,” he went on, stalling. “Joss won’t be interested in anything I have to say.”

  Lily was looking at the splendid house. As likely as not, Joss and Caleb would work out their differences—they were brothers, after all—but it might take time. She slipped her arm through Caleb’s and let her head rest against his shoulder for a moment in silent reassurance.

  In the distance the front door opened, and Lily could see a form standing on the long, pillared porch. The man strode down the steps after a moment’s pause and started up the driveway.

  Caleb brought the reins down on the horse’s back with a resolute slap, and the buggy jolted forward. Lily held onto her new straw traveling hat, thinking, And nation shall rise against nation, and brother against brother….

  The man and the buggy met midway between the house and the road. Lily saw that Joss was as tall as Caleb, with the same golden-brown hair, though his was curly. His eyes were a deep blue, and his build was so powerful that his missing left arm didn’t diminish him in any way.

  He glared at Caleb. “Get off my land.”

  Caleb sighed and climbed awkwardly down from the buggy. Lily caught the reins, or they would have slipped to the ground.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Caleb answered at his leisure. His voice was low, even, and wholly defiant.

  Joss’s seething mood put Lily in mind of boiling jam and the way it stung it when spilled over on a person. She watched the rise and fall of the big man’s broad chest as he struggled to control his emotions. “Damn you,” he whispered. “Damn you for coming back here, Caleb, and making me remember how it was before!”

  Caleb said nothing.

  Joss’s midnight-blue eyes moved to Lily, and she saw a distinct and probably involuntary softening in his expression. “Your wife?”

  “Lily,” Caleb said with a nod, “this is my brother Joss.”

  “How do you do?” Lily said uncomfortably. The air was charged with violent emotions, and she felt like an intruder. Besides, it was hot, and she was tired and thirsty.

  Joss was silent for a long time, just gazing at Lily. Finally he said, “You take this man of yours, little Mrs. Halliday, and you get him out of here before I fetch my shotgun and shoot him where he stands.”

  With that, he turned and walked proudly away, his broad shoulders making a barrier against the brother he hated.

  Lily’s mouth dropped open, but before she could call after Mr. Joss Halliday that that was a fine greeting to give his own brother after fifteen years, a pretty young woman with honey-colored hair came bounding out of the house and ran up the driveway. She held her blue sateen skirts in both hands as she approached.

  “Caleb! Caleb, don’t you dare leave!” she cried. Lily knew without being told that this was Abigail, the sister Caleb barely knew.

  Tears poured down the girl’s cheeks as she flung herself at Caleb. He caught her up with his good arm and swung her around once before planting a kiss on her forehead. “You’ve grown up,” he said.

  “Of course I have,” Abbie said with good-natured impatience. “Did you think I’d still be a child?”

  He set her down, and she turned her attention to Lily, smoothing her butternut hair and then her skirts. “You must be Caleb’s bride,” she said, and the eagerness in her face was heartening. Here was a iday who wanted to like Lily and was ready to accept her.

  Lily nodded, relieved. “And you’re Abigail.”

  For the moment the greeting was enough. Abigail turned her amber gaze back to her brother again. “You’ll stay, won’t you? You belong right here with the rest of us, and this land is as much yours as it is Joss’s.”

  Joss was now a small figure in the distance, disappearing around the corner of one of the outbuildings. Caleb stared after him solemnly. “I don’t know why, but I expected it to be easier than this,” he said, his voice low and distracted.

  “Go after him,” Abbie urged. “He’ll listen to reason—I know he will.”

  But Caleb shook his head. “Let him have some time to absorb the fact that we’re here.”

  Lily got down from the buggy, wanting to walk the rest of the way to the house and stretch her legs. She was disappointed in Joss’s cold reception; just as she had fantasies about her own reunion with Emma and Caroline, she’d had expectations for Caleb’s with Joss.

  “Let’s go inside,” Abbie said, linking her arm with Lily’s.

  “I’ll be in later,” Caleb muttered, climbing back into the buggy and taking up the reins.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t have come here,” Lily said softly when he was driving the rig away toward an enormous red barn.

  Abbie’s bright curls glistened in the late afternoon sunshine as she shook her head. “Everything will be all right—you’ll see.”

  Lily hoped her sister-in-law was right, but she had her doubts. She knew she’d rather not find Emma and Caroline at all than have them rebuff her the way Joss had Caleb.

  After taking the horse and buggy to the stables and turning them over to one of the hands, Caleb avoided the magnificent house where he’d grown up and walked through the orchard instead. Behind it, beyond a stone wall that dated back to Revolutionary times, were the gravestones of Hallidays who had gone before.

  With painful effort he removed his suit coat and slung it over one shoulder, holding it by a finger. He stopped first at his mother’s grave.

  It was well tended, and there were fresh flowers lying at the base of the stone.

  Caleb crouched and ran one hand over the lettering of her name and the dates that enclosed her life like brackets.

  “She would have sided with the Confederacy,” remarked a voice behind him. “Her people were southerners.”

  Caleb rose gracefully to his feet and turned to face his brother. “I don’t think it matters wh
at side she would have taken,” he said evenly. “In case you haven’t noticed, big brother, the war is over.”

  “Not for me it isn’t. And not for you.”

  Caleb was growing weary, and his patience was wearing thin. “I don’t expect you to apologize for joining up with the rebs, Joss. D doexpect me to regret fighting for the Union. I’m not going to debate you, and I’m sure as hell not going to let you goad me into a fight. I came here to make peace with you.”

  “You’re wasting your time,” Joss answered.

  Caleb shook his head. “You’re still as stubborn as Adam’s ox, and about half as bright. If you’re not willing to meet me halfway, then go away and leave me alone. I want a few minutes with Mama and Papa.”

  Joss glared at him for a few moments, and a muscle tensed in his bull-thick neck. “I could throw you off this place, you know,” he said, raising his one arm to rest his hand on his hip.

  Caleb smiled. “You’d better get started right now, then,” he said evenly, “because you’re going to be at it for a while.” The elder brother gestured toward the sling Caleb wore. “You’ve only got one good arm,” he pointed out.

  “I guess that makes us just about even,” Caleb replied. He could see that Joss wanted to hit him—indeed, he probably wanted to tear him apart—but something stopped the big man from advancing on the younger brother he hadn’t seen since the war.

  He clenched his massive fist once, twice, then turned and strode away again.

  “That’s it, Johnny Reb,” Caleb challenged. “Turn tail and run.”

  With a bellow Joss whirled and came at Caleb with all the restraint of a runaway freight train. His powerful fist caught Caleb squarely under the chin and sent him flying backwards into the grass, past his mother’s headstone.

  Blood trickled down Caleb’s chin, but he grinned at his brother as he got to his feet. “I’m still here, Joss,” he said. “And I’m not going anywhere until you sit down and talk with me like a sane man.”

  Joss’s thick chest heaved with the effort of his breathing. Sweat glistened on his face, and his hand was still knotted into a fist, but his eyes were wet. “Damn you,” he spat, and then he walked away.

  This time Caleb didn’t try to taunt him into coming back.

  An hour had passed when he went back to the house, no closer to reconciliation with Joss than he had been that long-ago day in battle when Joss had lost his arm and Caleb had lost his brother.

  During the coming week Joss avoided Caleb completely, refusing to remain in a room with him, let alone sit down at the same table.

  Caleb got to know his sister, and Joss’s wife, Susannah, and his nieces and nephews. He depended on the comfort Lily gave him with her words and with her body, and his thoughts began to turn back to Washington Territory and the house by the creek.

  He was out behind the orchard again, sitting on the stone fence and gazing over the sun-warmed graves of his parents and grandparents, when he felt a strong hand strike his shoulder.

  Caleb barely kept from losing his balance, and he was poised to fight when he turned to find the elusive Joss standing on the other side of the waist-high wall.

  “Susannah tells me you’re heading for Chicago,” Joss said.

  Caleb nodded, watching his brother, still daring to hope there might be some part of their relationship they could save. “That’s right. We’ll be here another week or so—until I can get rid of this damned sling.”

  Joss braced himself against the wall and leaned forward. “Do you know what it was like in that goddamn hellhole of a prison?” The words were torn from his throat.

  Caleb shook his head. “I wouldn’t presume to say I did.” “There were rats the size of house cats. Toward the end we ate them just to stay alive.”

  Caleb closed his eyes against an image that would never leave him. “I’m not sorry that I let you live,” he said after a brief silence.

  Joss glared at him in rage. “You’d put me through that hell all over again, wouldn’t you?” he demanded. “Damn you, you would!”

  “If it meant your life? You’re damned right I would. I’d put you through it a thousand times.” He paused and drew a deep, tremulous breath. “Joss, step into my boots for a minute. Go back to that day. Remember the screaming, and the cannon fire, and the sound of bullets whistling past your head. This time you’re the one that’s on your feet, and I’m lying on the ground with my arm gone. I ask you to shoot me—hell, I beg you to shoot me. What are you going to do?”

  Joss’s throat worked as he swallowed. He hesitated for a long time as a variety of emotions moved in his face. Then he said, “I’d shoot you.”

  “You’re a liar,” Caleb answered.

  The giant, the man he’d loved and admired from the first day he’d known what it meant to have a brother, glared at him. “God damn you, Caleb—”

  “You wouldn’t have been able to kill me, because I’m your brother. Because you taught me to ride and shoot, because the blood in your veins is the same blood that runs in mine. You would have done exactly what I did, Joss, and somewhere inside yourself you know it.”

  Joss shook his head as if to fling off an image. “You listen to me,” he yelled, waggling a finger in his brother’s face. “I hate you. Do you hear me? I hate your miserable Yankee guts, and I plan to go right on hating you from now until they put me in a box and throw dirt on top of me!”

  The sun was getting hotter by the moment. Caleb dragged his sleeve across his brow. “Fine.”

  “I’ll buy out your share of the land.”

  “Go to hell,” Caleb replied. “It’s mine, and I’m keeping it. And I’ll be back, Joss. You haven’t seen the last of me.”

  Joss’s massive shoulders moved in a sudden, tearing sob, and he lowered his head, gripping the old stones of the wall.

  Caleb stepped closer, daring to lay his good hand on Joss’s shoulder. “I’d have gone to prison in your place if they would have let me,” he said, and the words were wholly true. He’d envisioned it a thousand timeover the years, felt Joss’s pain and rage. In some ways he’d been as much a captive as his brother had.

  Joss shook Caleb’s hand away. He wouldn’t come around easily, Caleb knew that, but the worst of his anger was spent. He wept for a time, and Caleb waited, absorbing the sound like blows to the midsection.

  Presently Joss recovered himself, dried his eyes with his sleeve, and said, “Your Lily is a pretty little thing, but she’s as fractious as my Susannah.”

  Caleb grinned. “It’s going to take two hands and all my wits to keep her in line,” he confessed.

  Unwillingly, rawly, Joss chuckled. “Come on in, then, and we’ll talk.” And he led the way toward the house.

  Caleb vaulted over the fence and fell into step with his brother. Neither of them spoke as they approached the place that had once been home to both of them.

  Joss’s littlest child, a girl with her father’s curly hair, came bounding down the path toward them. “Papa, is Uncle Caleb really a damn Yankee?” she chirped.

  Joss didn’t so much as glance in Caleb’s direction. “Yes, Ellen,” he said gently. “He’s the damnedest Yankee I ever saw.”

  Caleb smiled. “You wouldn’t have Susannah and all these beautiful kids if I’d done what you told me to do that day,” he pointed out. “You’d be nothing but a pile of bones moldering in the brush somewhere.”

  Joss glowered at him. “I guess that’s so,” he conceded. “But don’t get the idea things are settled between us, little brother, because they aren’t. I’m still going to beat the living tar out of you the day your arm comes out of that sling.”

  This was the old Joss, the Joss whom Caleb remembered and loved. “Don’t be too confident, big brother,” he replied. “Just in case you haven’t noticed, I’m all grown up.”

  Lily and Caleb had been at Fox Chapel for two weeks when Lily awakened one hot night in early August to find her husband standing at the window, looking out.

  “What is
it?” she asked.

  He turned slowly to face her, his features in shadow. “It isn’t the same.”

  Lily pulled back the sheet that covered her and patted the mattress. “Come back to bed, Caleb, and tell me what you’re talking about.”

  Reluctantly Caleb came to sit on the edge of the bed, his back to Lily. “This is Joss’s place,” he sighed, running one hand through his hair in a distracted gesture. “He built it into what it is now, not me.”

  Lily began to massage the knotted muscles in his shoulders, carefully avoiding his rapidly healing wound. “You were born here, Caleb. This land—or half of it, at least—is your birthright.”

  “I want to go back, to build something with my own hands, something that’s yours and mine. Our homestead seems like the best place to start.”

  Lily was so haphat she rose up on her knees and flung her arms around Caleb’s neck from behind. “I do love you, Major Halliday!”

  He laughed. “Damn it, woman, you’re choking me.”

  Playfully Lily bit the back of his neck. “I don’t care!”

  Caleb whirled on her, flinging her down onto the mattress. “Don’t you?” he teased, and he began to tickle her ribs through her lightweight nightgown, causing her to writhe and shout with laughter.

  “Stop!” she gasped finally, and Caleb relented, though only to bend his head and take a nip at the peak of one of her breasts, which was pressing taut against her nightgown.

  Lily moaned in delicious reluctance. “I swear, Caleb Halliday, you’ll wear me out.”

  He had taken the hidden nipple full in his mouth, and it throbbed beneath its covering of thin muslin. With one hand he parted Lily’s thighs.

  She gave a little whimper when he found the nest of curls and invaded that moist and secret place, and her hands tugged at her nightgown. She wanted to raise it, to be bared to Caleb, but he wouldn’t allow her that for the time being. He continued to suckle until the muslin clung wetly to Lily’s distended nipple.

  When he moved toward the other breast Lily wrenched her nightgown up so quickly that the nipple was bare when he reached it. He chuckled as he took it into his mouth.