“That is true.” River Woman nodded, backing off. Her nod slipped into a deep chuckle. “If you were found out.”
“Nonsense,” Lily muttered, reaching for a dirty plate. “Reckless nonsense. At a time like this.”
But even as her mind sought to dismiss the dangerous idea, her heart fluttered. People stayed indoors in the winter. Christian lived in a small house behind the courthouse. Few people had any reason to venture that way, particularly at night. It was feasible that she could steal right up to his front door without a soul being the wiser.
“See, I told you she has the spark in her,” River Woman said.
Snow In Her Hair agreed with a nod on Lily’s other side. “She may have lost some of her people’s ways, but not all of them.”
The comment, delivered so easily, struck Lily like an arrow in the gut. Swirls of hope and anxiety filled her. The dreams and nightmares of her childhood clashed in the space where she stood, between these two grinning, grounded women.
“I don’t know who my people are.” The confession rushed out of her so fast that she sucked in a breath, as if to shut the door of a thousand other confessions behind them. She handed the plate she had washed to Snow In Her Hair and gripped the edge of the sink.
A hand rested on her shoulder. For a moment she thought it was Christian, that he had walked across the room to touch her when she had been lost in other troubles. But no, it was River Woman.
She squeezed Lily’s shoulder. “It is a good thing, then, that your people know who you are.”
A dam of emotion cracked in Lily’s chest. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Her eyes stung with tears aching to be shed. Years of loneliness vanished to nothing faster than she could keep up.
“Lily, we’d better get started home now,” Christian’s deep voice broke through the wave that was about to crash. “It’s starting to get dark and I don’t like the looks of the clouds out there.”
Lily sucked in a breath. “Yes, yes, you’re right,” she said without turning to face him.
She raised her cold, wet hands to her face, wiping her cheeks and her eyes with a damp towel to hide what had almost happened.
“Thank you,” she said smiling as best she could at River Woman and Snow In Her Hair.
There was so much more she wanted to say, so many thank yous that needed to be said, but they were all beyond her. She pushed away from the sink and started across the room, hugging every child she came across along the way. They were all there, ready and eager to take a turn clinging to her and accepting her kisses on their foreheads. Each one of them was a unique blessing.
Christian was waiting for her at the door, her coat held out. Still he watched her, but now with a quiet look of approval that was as far from the arrogant man that she had been ready to thrash that morning. When he lifted her coat up over her shoulders and settled it in place, his arms lingered a heartbeat too long around her. She wished they would stay where they were, that she could stay in his arms.
“Want me to bring the wagon to the door so you don’t have to walk out there in the cold?” he asked her.
“No.” She shook her head. “No, I could use a walk.”
She could use a blast of cold was more like it. The warmth in Christian’s eyes as he opened the door for her was enough to set her ablaze right there. She should have been offended by his hand on the small of her back as he helped her out into the dimming light of late afternoon. Instead she reveled in it. Any touch of his was welcome.
River Woman was right. She had the spark in her. It would dance and burn and turn her life upside-down until she did something about it.
Chapter Twelve
The world had changed. Lily felt as strange and newly formed as a baby chick as she rode away from her conversation with Snow In Her Hair and River Woman and back into her day-to-day life. Tensions were still high over the robberies and the man sitting in the Cold Springs jail, people in town still looked at her longer than they should as she went about her errands and made her way to and from school, but it was all different.
She had friends now. Friends who would support her in a crisis. Friends who were encouraging her to scandalous levels of boldness where Christian was concerned. Instead of making her the object of ridicule, having talked with her friends about her feelings for Christian had made her consider the real possibility of a future with the infuriating man. It had also kept Christian in the forefront of her mind, even at the most inopportune times.
“I heard that Angus McGee is now taking bets as to whether that man in the jail is an actual thief or not,” Gladys reported with a grimace as the inhabitants of the boarding house and Jacinta Archer sat knitting on Monday night.
Lily focused on her work, praying none of the other women noticed the flush that came to her face. These women would probably rather be pilloried than suggest she slip off to visit a man in the dark of night. It was outlandish. She told herself that she too was appalled by the suggestion, that it was out of the question, dangerous, and inappropriate.
And she hadn’t stopped thinking of ways she could do it. She couldn’t stop the memories of what his weight had felt like above her in the hotel storeroom, what his hand had felt like on her thigh, his mouth on her breasts.
“Ugh!” Jacinta’s exclamation brought Lily out of her heated thoughts like a dose of cold water. Her heart slammed in her chest as though the unpleasant woman had caught her in the act, but Jacinta only said, “I’m out of yarn and nowhere near finished with this sweater.” She held up a hideous pea-green lump of knitting. “I’ll have to send Jed down to Billings to get more.”
“Billings?” Gladys sniffed. “Isn’t our home-spun Cold Springs yarn good enough for you?”
Jacinta shot her a nasty look.
“How is your brother, Jacinta?” Jessica asked.
Lily had the feeling the question was meant to soothe, but Jacinta’s face went more sour.
“He is useless,” she sneered. “Lazy as the day is long. He’s taken to getting drunk with those Turner men.”
“Bo Turner gives me the willies,” Gladys said with a shudder.
Jacinta tilted her nose up, possibly agreeing. “Yes, well, it’s all Eric Quinlan’s fault.”
“Eric Quinlan?” Miss Jones joined the conversation.
“Yes,” Jacinta nodded. “If he hadn’t fired Jed last year because that wretched wife of his told him to, Jed would still have a job and motivation.”
Gladys snorted. “I thought you were sweet on Mr. Quinlan.”
“I was not!” Jacinta snapped with such vehemence that Lily was certain it was true.
She studied Jacinta for a moment, short, skinny, and red-headed. Eric Quinlan was a friend of Christian’s, tall, handsome, and rugged. Lily could see how women would fawn over Eric, but he had never turned her head. He was too unrefined. She preferred someone with a certain manner, with authority and sophistication. Someone with laughing hazel eyes and a day’s scruff on his otherwise patrician jaw.
She could do it. If she could just figure out a way to leave the boarding house after dark she could steal across town and into Christian’s arms. She was certain he would welcome her and kiss her as he had in the storeroom. This time his hands would find their way—
“Miss Singer. Miss Singer!”
She gasped and pushed away from her thoughts, glancing around to find who had called her. “Yes?” All four of her companions were staring at her.
“I said would you mind giving Jacinta some of your yarn?” Miss Jones said.
“Why? It’s the wrong color.”
She winced inwardly as distraction caused her to speak before thinking.
“I don’t care.” Jacinta got up, crossed the room, and helped herself to a skein from Lily’s basket. “I’ll knit some sort of scarf for an indigent until I can replenish my yarn.”
“You can’t just take Lily’s things without asking,” Jessica defended her.
“Why not?” Jacinta sniffed. “Her kind take t
hings from others without asking on a regular basis.”
The room went silent. Gladys darted a glance between Lily and Jacinta as if waiting for a storm to break.
Jaw tight, Lily returned to her work. She would not stoop to Jacinta Archer’s level. She thought of Snow In Her Hair, of her solid, quiet pride. Friends could be a good influence too.
“Alicia Kuhn went out to that pile of hovels the local Indians call home the other day,” Jacinta said when no one else spoke. Her beady eyes flashed in Lily’s direction, deliberately throwing more fuel on the fire. “She told me they’re a mighty suspicious lot. They’re hiding something.”
“They can’t help it,” Gladys said. “It’s in their nature.” She spoke as though she believed she was defending the Flathead and arguing against Jacinta.
Jacinta glowed with delight at having two enemies to attack. “Well, Alicia says that once the army gets here, they will stop at nothing to do what she couldn’t.”
That was it. Lily folded her knitting and stood. Fury mingled with fear in her gut.
“Excuse me, I think I’ll go to bed now.”
She picked up her knitting basket and crossed the room to leave. Jessica gave her a mournful look of sympathy as she went. It didn’t come close to easing her anger or her anxiety. If she didn’t get away from Jacinta they would be accusing her of murder next.
Sleep eluded her and frustration was her constant companion, not only through the night but into the next day and the next. Suspicions were one thing, but thinly veiled threats nudged the latent conflict sitting over Cold Springs to a new level. In a bitter twist of personal irony, the only place Lily felt remotely at ease was at the courthouse while Christian taught his forfeit lessons.
“In Cold Springs, the justice of the peace is part of our judicial system,” he explained to her students as they sat in the front benches of the courtroom in rapt attention. Lily stood to the side, ready to add to the lesson. “The mayor—once we get around to electing one—will be part of the legislative system. Yes, Isaac?”
“Who’s in charge around here if we don’t have a mayor?” the wiry boy asked.
“The town council,” Lily answered.
“Who’s in charge of them?” Isaac asked on.
“Well, people will tell you it’s a council of equals,” Christian said. “But between you and me, we all listen to Mr. West who runs the general store.”
“Shouldn’t folks listen to you?” Samantha asked. She had taken the seat closest to Christian and gazed up at him with glassy eyes.
Christian rubbed his scruffy chin and considered the suggestion. “Maybe, but I don’t have a steady stock of candy like Mr. West does.” The children laughed. “I’m already justice of the peace,” he went on. “We wouldn’t want just one man holding all the power. Or would we?”
He followed his question with a grin that was so smarmy Lily wasn’t sure if she wanted to kiss him or slap him.
“A justice of the peace is a minor legal position.” She explained to her class, glancing sideways to Christian. “He needn’t have any formal legal training. In fact, he could be any man plucked off the street, if he is elected by the populous, or in our case appointed by the town council.”
“I happen to have a law degree though,” Christian rushed to add, standing taller.
He winked when Lily pivoted to glare at him. Her temperature soared.
Jimmy Twitchel raised his hand.
“Yes, Jimmy?”
“If you have a law degree, how come you’re not a lawyer?”
“I am sure it’s because Mr. Avery neglected to sit the bar exam,” Lily answered before Christian could. She sent him a triumphant smirk.
“What’s a bar exam?” Amos asked.
“It’s where you see who can drink the most without passing out, dummy,” Isaac answered.
The class bubbled with laughter.
“Isaac,” Lily scolded him.
“I passed that exam with flying colors,” Christian told the class, sending them into more peals of laughter.
This was a terrible, terrible mistake.
“The bar exam—”
Lily began her explanation but was cut off as Samantha asked, “Mr. Avery, do you think you’ll ever run for mayor of Cold Springs? Then you could be the mayor and the justice of the peace?” Her eyes shone with adoration.
“I supposed if I was ever asked to run I might consider it.” Christian’s smile only made the girl’s cheeks glow brighter.
Just as they made Lily bristle with irritation.
As she opened her mouth to steer the class back to its lesson, the courthouse door swung open. The man that strode into the room made Lily freeze on sight.
The class turned to see what she saw, a man in a soldier’s uniform coat and hat dusted with snow. He was tall, blocky, and wore a scowl that seemed etched in his face.
“Who are you?” Christian asked. He was instantly on the alert, back straight and arms crossed. Lily didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified.
The soldier squared his shoulders and frowned.
“Lieutenant Carl Wilkins,” he answered. “Who are you?”
“Christian Avery, Justice of the Peace. What do you want?”
“I’m looking for Samuel Kuhn,” Lieutenant Wilkins said. “I asked at his store and they said he’d come over to this side of town to do some business at the bank.”
“Well, this is the courthouse, not the bank,” Christian told him.
“Thanks, I can see that.” Lieutenant Wilkins nodded curtly and turned to go.
He hesitated when he saw Lily and the children.
“The bank is two doors down,” Lily said.
“Thank you, ma’am.” He touched the edge of his hat, but as he lowered his hand his expression clouded over. He stared at Lily long and hard.
“Excuse me, but you’re not Flathead are you?”
A rush of anxiety poured down Lily’s back. “No, I am not,” she answered.
Lieutenant Wilkins continued to stare at her. “Chippewa? Cree?”
Lily met his darkening glance with resolute grace. “No.”
“I’ve been informed that there have been problems with Indians leaving their reservations without license in Montana,” Lieutenant Wilkins told her. “That a couple of them might have robbed Mr. Kuhn.”
The prickles down Lily’s back increased.
“Someone’s been telling you stories,” Christian replied, even more unfriendly than before. He took a few steps closer to Lily’s side and stood solid, hands on his waist as though he had pistols to draw. “The men who robbed Samuel Kuhn were white and they’re long gone. As you should be.”
Lieutenant Wilkins scowled, but he took the hint. He touched his hat again, this time for the children.
“Thanks for your help,” he muttered before turning and marching back out into the cold.
A collective exhale sounded from the children.
“What kind of a soldier was he, Miss Singer?”
“Why was he looking for Mr. Kuhn?”
“Is he going to catch the robbers?”
“Is he going to take you back to a reservation, Miss Singer?”
The questions rang from the boys and girls faster than Lily could take them all in. She rested a hand over her chest to still her pounding heart, fighting to maintain her outward calm.
Christian touched the small of her back. “No one is taking Miss Singer anywhere.”
She had never been so grateful for an inappropriate gesture in front of a room of students.
“Good,” Amos exclaimed and was met by a chorus of agreement.
Lily took a deep breath. “The soldier’s business is no business of ours,” she said in a clipped, teacher’s voice. “Our concern is the ways and means of government in Cold Springs. Now, Mr. Avery has explained to you about the judicial branch and the legislative branch. Can anyone tell me how this mirrors the government of the United States as a whole?”
The children
were slow to shift back into their lesson. They twisted and squirmed on the court benches, a few glancing back to the door or at Lily or Christian for answers. Lily felt as though she might squirm right out of her skin herself. The rational knowledge that she was in no personal danger from one stern soldier did nothing to ease the bristling suspicion that sat on her stomach.
“No one?” She proceeded with her lesson regardless, not sure that even she could remember the answer at that point. She turned to Christian, sure that there was far too much pleading in her eyes. “Mr. Avery? Can you help us?”
He met and held her gaze with a firmness that said he would do far more than help her. He would get answers.
Christian paced across the front of his courtroom, arms tightly crossed, rubbing his chin.
“And that is why if you wish to open a business in Cold Springs, you must first apply to the town council for a permit,” Lily finished the lesson.
He had never seen her look so stoic, knowing she was simmering with worry underneath. He had also never wanted her to pack up her students and leave as much as he did right then. Not a single thing was right about the sudden appearance of Lieutenant Carl Wilkins. Samuel Kuhn had some explaining to do.
“Please put away your books now and fetch your coats,” Lily told her class. “Mr. Avery will walk us back over to the school.”
The students burst into activity, sliding books and papers into bags and scrambling to fetch their coats from the rack at the back of the room.
Christian ended his pacing by striding up to Lily and mumbling, “Mr. Avery has business he needs to attend to. Giving Mr. Kuhn a piece of his mind, for example.”
Lily shook her head. “He said he would call the army. Did you really expect him to hold off because you told him to?”
“This is my town, not his!” he exclaimed in a low voice, keeping one eye on the children.
He expected Lily to purse her lips and huff out a breath and tell him off. She crossed her arms and watched her children piling into their coats with worry in her eyes.
“He’s just one man, not an entire regiment.”
In Your Arms (Montana Romance) Page 15