Fire Lily (A Dangerous Hearts Romance)

by Deborah Camp

  Lily took the reins from Orrie, giving the woman a rest and giving herself something more to do than dwell on ridiculous dreams. The buggy jostled over an uneven but well-traveled road. Ahead, Griffon and Balthazar rode side by side.

  “Look at the way Mr. Griffon sits that horse,” Orrie whispered. “Don’t he look regal?”

  Lily examined Griffon’s straight back, loose wrists and hands, relaxed shoulders. The black stallion he rode had started off prancing but had settled into a more sedate stride as the day wore on. Balthazar’s chestnut plodded, its anvil-shaped head moving up and down with each step. Lily glanced at Orrie, noting that the woman was waiting for an answer.

  “He rides well,” she conceded.

  “How come you’ve set your mind against him?”

  “When have I said that?”

  “You don’t have to say it. The thing is, I think you try to hate him, but it’s a real chore for you.”

  “I’m not trying to hate him,” Lily objected. “I hope he’s what he says he is and that this trip won’t be wasted. Just think, Orrie, we could have Cecille seated between us on the journey back. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

  “Sure would.” Orrie clasped her hands in her lap and a wistful expression bathed her face. “That would be a prayer answered, it would. I do believe if anybody can find Cecille, it’ll be Mr. Griffon. That man is no fake, Lily. That man has been blessed with a seeing eye.” She pulled down the lower part of her left eye to illustrate a phenomenon that Lily found hard to embrace. Sounded like more of Balthazar’s carnival talk to Lily. “Zar says he’s had it since birth,” Orrie explained. “Says that when Mr. Griffon was just a sprout he and his grandmama could talk to each other by just using their minds. His grandmama was a Gypsy queen and she had the seeing eye, too. That’s probably where he got it. Inherited it through her blood.”

  “You’d be wise to believe only half of what Zar tells you. He strikes me as a man who stretches the truth.”

  “Oh, he’s a bit of a braggart, it’s true, but he believes in Mr. Griffon’s powers. He says he’s seen him find everything from lost letters to lost children. In England he was famous. Headed up that psychic society that’s spread over here now.”

  “What are they supposed to do at that society?”

  “From what Zar told me, they study all kinds of mysterious goings on. Ghosts, haunted houses, psychics, all those spooky things.”

  “Right down your alley, Orrie.”

  “Not only me. You listened to your share of scary stories. You used to beg me to tell you the headless horseman story.”

  Lily experienced a lovely chill. “Oh, yes. My favorite,” she admitted with a giggle. “How I love to be frightened.”

  “He frightens you some, don’t he?” Orrie nodded at Griffon.

  “No,” Lily said, attempting a laugh. “Why would he?”

  “ ’Cause he has the power and that scares you.”

  “You’re mistaken, Orrie. I’m leery of him, but not frightened.”

  “If you’d get to know him, you might find that you two are a lot alike.”

  “We’re nothing alike.” She regretted the sharpness in her voice and laid a hand on Orrie’s arm to show it. “That’s an odd thing for you to say. What on earth could I have in common with a Gypsy?”

  “You both live by your senses,” Orrie said, her voice gentle, her gaze lingering on Lily’s face. “Now don’t go getting upset, but you know as well as me that you got good instincts. Didn’t you tell me just the other day that you was sure Cecille was still alive because you felt it deep in your bones?”

  “Orrie, dear, everyone has such feelings about loved ones. It’s a hunch, not a mystic power.”

  “Call it what you will, but yours can be counted on. I’ve never known you to be wrong about whether a baby’s going to be a boy or a girl. You touch the mother-to-be’s stomach and you can tell, just like that. And you’re always right. Always. That’s not guessing. You know somehow.”

  Lily faced front, letting the statements hang between them. She couldn’t deny that what Orrie had said was true. But it wasn’t sensory perception. Just luck.

  “You and Zar seem to have had quite a few heart-to-heart conversations.”

  Orrie blushed and grinned broadly. “I admit he makes my body twitch.”

  Lily glanced at her, shocked. “Why, Orrie. What a thing to say!”

  “Oh, you’re growed. You know about such things. No need in me treating you like I used to when you was a child. You surely can see that me and Zar are sweet on each other.”

  “I … I knew you were friendly, but I wouldn’t presume—”

  “Well, go ahead and presume.” Orrie pushed some escaped corkscrew curls back underneath her bonnet. “I don’t care who knows that I like Balthazar. And he likes me.” She grinned suddenly. “Feels good to have a man sparking with me again. It’s been a while.”

  Lily laughed to hide her embarrassment. “We’ve never talked like this before.”

  “It’s time we did.”

  “Yes, I suppose so. We’re both grown women.”

  “That’s right.”

  “To be honest, I never thought about you having gentlemen callers,” Lily admitted.

  “Haven’t had too many. I was married once.”

  “Married? You?”

  Orrie nodded. “Married when I was but sixteen. He was twenty. Got kicked in the head by a mule two years later and that killed him. That’s when I started hiring out as a maid, then later as a nanny. A few years later I got on with the Meekers and I stuck with them. Guess I just fell in love with you and Cecille. You was the babies I never had. I almost married again a few years back, but he was too nice.”

  “Too nice?” Lily repeated. “That’s why you didn’t want him as a husband?”

  “I want a man I can’t read like some book. Elmer—that was his name—was as sure as summer drought and just about as much fun.” Her eyes moved to find the two men ahead. “But Balthazar … now he’s one big, old surprise.”

  Lily smiled. “He certainly is that.”

  Orrie blinked as if coming out of a dream. She straightened and looked around at some children walking along the side of the road. A wagon, heavy with hay, rumbled past. Ahead of them another wagon, this one full of dusty men and tired-looking women, rocked from side to side.

  “Traffic’s picked up,” Orrie said. “Is that Van Buren ahead?”

  Lily nodded. “That’s it. Don’t expect too much, Orrie. It’s smaller than Fort Smith.”

  “Oh, I do so love to travel. Isn’t this excitin’? New places, new faces. Makes the blood run freer.”

  Lily laughed lightly, caught up in Orrie’s delirium. Griffon turned in the saddle and pointed ahead. Orrie waved at him, almost jumping up and down.

  “We’ll go straight to the hotel,” he called, and Lily nodded to let him know she’d heard.

  Orrie pointed out every building they passed—bank, mercantile store, post office, saloon, an impressive train depot. The hotel was a two-story affair on a corner of the busiest intersection. Balthazar tied off the horses while Griffon helped both Lily and Orrie to alight from the buggy. Twilight gathered quickly, and a few windows showed yellow lantern light already.

  Lily noticed that the wagonload of people had stopped in front of the bank. Several men jumped over the sides and went inside the institution. Payday, Lily thought, and felt sorry for them for having to work so hard for so little. She’d never had to labor in the fields, had never picked cotton or vegetables or fruit. If nothing else, her father had given her a life of leisure.

  The hotel clerk had Griffon sign the registry and then he and his son carried the luggage upstairs. Lily and Orrie were shown to one room, Griffon and Balthazar to another right across the hall.

  “Is there a place to eat around here?” Griffon asked the clerk.

  “Let’s see … it’s getting late. Our dining room has closed down for the night.” The clerk screwed up his mouth i
n consideration, then nodded. “The Lucky Spoon is still open for business, but you’d better hurry. If Gladys don’t have any customers, she’ll close ’er up by seven. It’s across the street, halfway down the next block.”

  “Thanks.” Griffon pressed a coin in the man’s palm. “What’s the sheriff’s name here?”

  The man regarded him for a few moments. “Macinaw. Delbert Macinaw, but we all call him Sheriff Mac. Got yourself a problem?”

  “We’re looking for someone.”

  “Do you happen to know the Jeffers family?” Lily asked, drawing a scowl from Griffon for barging in. “I believe they live outside of town.”

  “Sure, I heard of them. I think they live out in Devil’s Den country.”

  “Devil’s Den?” Orrie repeated, eyes wide. “What’s out there?”

  “Just woods,” the clerk said, tugging at his bow tie. “Hills and trees. Lots of them hill people live out yonder. Them Jeffers come into town every so often for supplies. They got themselves a family band and they travel some. Play at barn dances and the like.” He made a scoffing sound. “I heard ’em once and they sure weren’t nothing special. Just made a bunch of noise with spoons and washboards. Sure weren’t pretty soundin’.”

  “Is Devil’s Den far from here?” Griffon asked.

  “Not too. Take you a day’s ride to get there.” He pocketed the coin. “Fresh linens on the beds and that room at the end of this hallway is the water closet. Bath’ll cost you ten cents extry, but you can fill your washbasins for free. Chamber pots under the beds, and we’ve got an outhouse ’round back.” He grinned at the women, tugged at his bow tie, and turned to leave. “If’n you need anything and I’m not around, ring the bell on the desk.”

  “Why don’t you ladies freshen up and meet us downstairs in, say, ten minutes? Will that give you enough time?” Griffon asked.

  “Long enough for me. I’m mainly interested in getting some food in me,” Orrie said.

  “Ten minutes,” Lily agreed, then stepped into the room ahead of Orrie. It had one bed covered with a pink chenille spread. Lily tested the springs while Orrie opened the luggage and removed their toiletries, placing them on top of the bureau. “It’s been a long time since I slept in a bed with you.”

  Orrie glanced at her in the mirror and smiled. “You was about ten, I do believe. You and Cecille both slept in my room during a storm.”

  “After you told us a horrendous story about ghostly riders who appeared during thunderstorms,” Lily recalled. “We couldn’t possibly sleep in our room that night. Not after that story.” She removed her bonnet and smoothed a hand over her hair, checking the loose chignon. “Devil’s Den. Ominous sounding, isn’t it?”

  “Sure is. Like something out of my stories.”

  Lily sprayed some toilet water across her throat, then checked her appearance in the mirror.

  “Isn’t this excitin’?” Orrie asked.

  “What?”

  “Going to eat in a restaurant with gentlemen,” Orrie said. “It’s been a month of Sundays since I’ve eaten any food but mine.”

  Lily felt a stab of pity for the faithful maid. Orrie draped a shawl around her shoulders and pinched her cheeks to put color in them.

  “You’re having a grand old time, aren’t you?” Lily smiled, touched by Orrie’s exuberance.

  “Of course! I’m itching to look this place over. You ready?”

  “I suppose I’m presentable enough for a place called the Lucky Spoon.”

  “Why, honey, you could take tea with the queen.” Orrie linked arms with her and they left, the room to join the men downstairs.

  * * *

  Sheriff Mac looked like a bullfrog to Lily. Slumped behind his desk, he studied her and her companions with bulging eyes.

  “So, y’all are all planning on parading out to the Jeffers place?” he asked, a smile displaying a row of brown teeth.

  “Yes,” Lily said.

  “No,” Griffon said, cutting his eyes in her direction in a blatant warning. “We’re going out there.” He indicated Balthazar with a nod. “The ladies are here because Miss Lily felt the trip would settle her nerves. Naturally, she’s been distraught over her cousin’s disappearance.”

  “Naturally,” Sheriff Mac said, clearly mocking the way Griffon talked. “What makes you think her cousin’s out at the Jeffers place?”

  “Just a feeling,” Lily spoke up, gaining another sharp glance from Griffon.

  “We have reason to believe that she and one of the—”

  “Their name came up,” Lily interrupted Griffon. “The Jefferses were in Fort Smith and Cecille was seen with them.”

  “Lily, why don’t you and Orrie take yourselves off and do some shopping?” Griffon looked from her to the open doorway. “Leave this business to me and Zar.”

  “I want to talk to you—privately.” Lily stood up and marched outside, then waited for Griffon to follow more slowly.

  “What is it?” he almost hissed at her.

  “I don’t think it’s necessary to air dirty laundry in front of that man,” she whispered, glancing inside to the sheriff.

  “I’ll tell him what I think he should know. This is his town, his territory. I might need his help before this is over.”

  “But if you tell him about Cecille seeing a married man, he’ll think she’s fast company.”

  “What do you care?”

  “I care because she’s my cousin.” Lily tried to check her temper. “I don’t want her reputation damaged any further.”

  “Listen to me, Lily.” He grasped her forearm and leaned close so that she could take note of the anger flaring in his blue eyes. “I’ve been hired to investigate this, not you.” His fingers bit into her arm when she started to interrupt. “And I know your family hired me, so save that particular speech. I allowed you to tag along—”

  “Allowed?”

  “Correct. All I had to do was to tell your uncle I didn’t want you underfoot and you’d be pacing the floors in Fort Smith right now. You know it. I know it.”

  “Take your hand off me,” she said, trying to escape his hot, hard hold.

  “Not until I’m finished. Now shut up and listen.”

  “You can’t speak to me in that manner!”

  He stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the sheriff’s office and the sheriff’s view of her. “I’m in charge. I’ll fill you in when I find out anything. Until then, I want you to let me do my job. You and Orrie go shopping or go back to the hotel. I shouldn’t have let you come with me this morning, but I thought you’d keep quiet. I should have known better.”

  “I won’t be excused like a child.”

  “And I won’t be supervised like one. Either you make yourself scarce for a while or I’ll head back to Fort Smith today and tell your uncle I can’t work with you hovering over me like a buzzard. Now what will it be?”

  “A—a buzzard!” She narrowed her eyes. “You’ll pay for that.”

  He released her by pushing her away from him. “I’m waiting for your decision.”

  Lily ran the flat of one hand along the side of her hair, then fussed with her bonnet. She scowled briefly at him before stepping sideways to motion for Orrie.

  “Let’s leave this business to the men, Orrie.”

  “Yes’m.” Orrie bounded from the chair and joined her.

  “I want a full report,” Lily said before striding off, Orrie in tow.

  Griffon went back inside and took his chair. “Sorry for the interruption, Sheriff. Miss Meeker is rather headstrong.” He glanced at Balthazar. “Where were we?”

  “You were telling the sheriff why you think the Jefferses might be involved with the disappearance of Miss Cecille.”

  “Ah, yes. We gather she’s been trysting with one of them.”

  Sheriff Mac pulled his bushy brows together. “Trying? Trying what?”

  “Trysting,” Griffon repeated, sounding the word more clearly. “Romancing, in other words.”

 
“Oh, I follow you.” Sheriff Mac chuckled, leaned forward, and spat brown juice into a rusty can. He seemed more at ease with the women gone. “Which one was she giving it to?”

  “The eldest son. He’s married, I’m told.”

  “That’ll be Anson. Yup, he’s a good-looking devil. Most of them Jeffers boys are, though. But they ain’t no-’count. Lazy layabouts like their old man. They got some kind of family band and they bring in some money that way. Otherwise, they do a lot of nothing.”

  “How many of them are there?”

  “There’s old Butch and his wife, Eva. Six or seven sons. Got some grandbabies out there, too, I think. And a few in-laws. Anson, Ham, and Jasper still live with Butch and Eva, I do believe. The other boys married and moved to their own shacks.” He spat again. “You got any experience with hill people, son?”

  “Very little,” Griffon admitted, which he thought was just what the sheriff wanted to hear.

  Sheriff Mac lounged back in his chair and hooked his thumbs behind his suspenders. “Well, let me educate you. They’re tight-knit. Don’t cotton to anybody snooping around their places. Some of them marry cousins and throw off their share of idiots. They got their own law and order, and they’ll shoot atcha if you come ridin’ up on their property without an invite. Gotta call out to them, let them know you’re coming and that you ain’t looking for trouble. Otherwise they’ll wing ya. I sent one of my deputies out to the hills after one of them once—not a Jeffers, a neighbor of theirs—and he come back with three bullet holes in his hat. Scared the peewaddlin’ outta him.” He laughed, and tobacco juice oozed down the corners of his mouth. He wiped it off with the back of his hand and spat again into the can.

  “Sounds a little like Gypsies,” Balthazar noted.

  “You Gypsies?” the sheriff asked, looking from one to the other.

  “I am,” Griffon said, then pressed on, not giving the sheriff a chance to question him about his background. He’d learned that most people thought of Gypsies as problems, and he wanted to keep his dealings with Sheriff Mac friendly. “Could you give me directions to their place? I’d like to talk with them.”