Unending Devotion

by Jody Hedlund

  But his hold didn’t budge. “I probably don’t have any right to stop you.”

  She tugged again, this time harder. “Then leave me alone.”

  He wavered, almost as if he would let her go, but then with a growl he yanked her against his body. The strength of his grip held her captive. But the hard width of his chest against hers and the nearness of his face—only inches away—held her in greater captivity.

  For a long moment she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think. The crashing thud of her heartbeat and the soft rasp of his breath filled the space between them. His gaze lingered upon her cheek, her chin, her other cheek before moving to her lips.

  Spring butterflies awakened in her stomach, and she couldn’t keep from studying his mouth, so close, so warm, so firm. But the boldness of such an inspection sent embarrassed heat through her, making her want to duck her head.

  “Lily,” he whispered. His eyes turned into a forest at midnight. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. I can’t let you go up to the Stockade. It’s too dangerous.”

  The dreadfulness of what had likely happened to poor Frankie crashed over her again. “Too dangerous? Then all the more reason I need to go rescue her.” The girl was probably shaking in absolute terror and praying to God for a deliverer—if it wasn’t already too late.

  Connell shook his head in protest.

  “Imagine if Carr had kidnapped me instead,” she said quickly. “I’m just as innocent as Frankie. What if he held me captive and forced me to do the unimaginable?”

  Connell’s breath was warm against her skin. His grip around her upper arms grew tighter.

  “I made a vow to God long ago,” she whispered, “that I would never turn away from anyone or anything that needed rescuing.”

  His dark gaze probed her, and the seriousness of his expression told her that he wasn’t taking her words lightly, that he was trying to understand her position.

  Could he see into her heart to her needs? Her passion? Her own losses?

  She quivered. She’d never been in such close proximity to a man before. His body was solid and his arms strong. She could almost hear the pounding of his heartbeat against her own.

  Her breath stuck in her chest. She knew she ought to back away and put a proper distance between them. But there was something exciting about being in his arms.

  For an instant a light flickered in his eyes that said he was thinking the same thing. But just as quickly as the spark ignited, he wrenched her back and set her an arm’s length away. Then he folded his arms across his chest and tucked his hands under his armpits, almost as if he were pinning them there in an attempt to keep from reaching after her.

  A gust of cold wind struck her, and she hugged her arms against her body. A strange mixture of disappointment and relief swirled through her.

  “I’ll go up there,” he said.

  “You will?”

  He nodded. “I’ll see if I can find out what happened to her.”

  Hope sprang to life, along with something else—something she couldn’t define—something that made her want to throw herself back against him and feel the solidness of his chest and arms again.

  “But only if you promise you’ll stay here.” He leveled his gaze at her. “Promise you won’t go anywhere near the Stockade. Not now. Or ever.”

  “I promise I’ll go back inside the hotel and wait for you.”

  He studied her face for a long moment.

  She couldn’t promise him she’d never go near the Stockade. Because the truth was, she’d go inside the pit of hell itself in order to find Daisy.

  “All right, then.” He glanced toward the Stockade. Through the growing darkness the sharp points of the fence were like fangs waiting to capture anyone who came near.

  “I’ll be praying for you,” she said.

  “Good. I’ll need it.”

  Chapter

  9

  Lily paced back and forth across the dining room until Oren barked at her.

  “Sit down, girl, before you wear out my last nerve.”

  She dropped to the nearest bench, perched on the edge, and drummed her fingers against the table. “He’s been gone for too long. What if Carr did something to him?”

  Oren pushed his empty plate aside and reached inside his vest pocket for his pipe. He muttered under his breath, his overgrown mustache muting most of what he said.

  “Don’t you worry about Connell.” Vera swiped at the table covering, brushing crumbs onto the floor. The stale scent of her overused dishrag lingered on every surface. “He’s strong. He’ll take care of himself.”

  “I’m hoping he comes back with a broken arm.” Oren packed a pinch of tobacco into the bowl of the pipe with his thumb. “Then I won’t have to be the one to break it when he finally gets up enough nerve to touch Lily.”

  “Oren!” Lily scolded through a smile. Good thing Oren didn’t know Connell already had touched her—even if it had only been brief.

  “I see the way that man’s been looking at you,” Oren mumbled, adding another layer of tobacco. “Even a blind man could see that he can’t keep his eyes off you.”

  Her inexperienced heart flushed with pleasure at Oren’s words.

  “Connell McCormick’s a good boy.” Vera wiped her arm across her forehead, brushing her frazzled hair into greater disarray. “I haven’t met too many boys as good as Connell.”

  Lily had to agree. She’d never known a man like Connell—someone so thoughtful and considerate.

  “All I have to say is he’s lucky I haven’t poked out his eyeballs yet for all the liberty he’s takin’ looking at Lily.”

  “He’s attracted to her,” Vera retorted, never afraid to give Oren the guff he deserved. “You can’t blame the boy. Lily’s probably the prettiest girl he’s ever laid eyes on.”

  “Well, ’course she is.” Oren packed a last layer into his pipe.

  Mr. Heller shyly nodded from his spot near the fireplace, where he was whittling on his usual stick.

  Lily ducked her head at the words of praise. She wasn’t used to compliments. There hadn’t been much of anything but harsh words where she’d come from.

  And was Vera right? Was Connell really attracted to her?

  A small flame, like the one in the oil lamp hanging above the table, flickered in her stomach. Why would a man like Connell be interested in a girl like her?

  But even as she tried to silently deny the validity of Vera’s declaration, she couldn’t keep her heart from warming at the thought of their encounter outside.

  The door swung open and Lily jumped to her feet.

  Connell stepped out of the blackness of the evening, and a blast of cold wind burst in with him.

  She scanned him from his hat to his boots. The tension in her muscles evaporated. He was safe—not a scratch in sight.

  He shoved the door behind him, fighting against another gust of wind. When it was finally closed, he swiped off his hat and blew out a long breath.

  That’s when Lily realized he was alone.

  Disappointment tumbled through her. “Where’s Frankie?”

  His brow crinkled. And the sadness in his face only made her pulse patter faster.

  “What happened?” She crossed to him, rubbing her arms to ward off the sudden chill.

  His fingers fumbled with the edge of his hat. “She’s not there.”

  “Really? Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive.”

  A whisper of hope wafted through her. “Then maybe she decided to leave Harrison. Maybe she took the train back to her home. Maybe she just didn’t know how to say good-bye.”

  Connell didn’t say anything. Instead, his chin dipped and he stared at the brim of his hat, where his fingers twisted at the hard felt.

  A cold shiver chased away the tiny voice of hope and left in its place a blaring warning. Something had gone wrong. Terribly wrong.

  She took a step back, not sure she wanted to hear.

 
It was then Connell lifted his gaze and met hers straight on. “I’m sorry, Lily.”

  Everything within her screamed to run to her room, bury her head in her pillow, and avoid the bad news. She’d had enough disappointments in her life, and she didn’t want any more.

  Vera stacked the remaining plates into a wobbly pile. “So tell us what happened to the girl. Did Mr. Carr sneak in here and steal her right from under our noses?”

  “I’m not sure how Carr managed to get ahold of her.” Connell’s voice was low. “But he did.”

  “And?” Vera prompted.

  “And he took her up to Merryville to the Devil’s Ranch.”

  Vera whistled under her breath.

  Lily could guess what the Devil’s Ranch was. She had no doubt it was another whorehouse. But Merryville? Maybe there was still a chance to go after Frankie and rescue her. “Where’s Merryville?”

  “It’s about six miles northeast of here,” Connell said. “Won’t be long before the Pere Marquette line runs all the way from Harrison to Merryville. And when it does, Carr will be ready for the boom the railroad will bring the town.”

  “Six miles isn’t far.” Lily’s mind began to whirl. She and Oren often had to drive several miles to reach a camp for their picture taking. Surely they could drive six. Especially to rescue Frankie.

  “Six miles is six too many for this time of year.” Connell shrugged out of his coat.

  “Not when an innocent life is at stake.”

  “I’m sorry to say that even if we went, we’d probably come away empty-handed.”

  “We won’t know unless we try.” Determination took root inside her. For a minute all she could think about was Daisy. By now her sister had surely realized her dreadful mistake. She was probably crying out and begging to leave her prison. But she was trapped, like most of the girls. And she would remain that way until Lily was able to find and rescue her. Frankie would be trapped too. Unless she helped her.

  Connell hung his coat on a peg in the wall near the door.

  “We have to do something,” Lily said. “Now. Tonight.”

  Slowly Connell turned to face her. His face was solemn. “Even if I thought it would help save her, we couldn’t go tonight.”

  “Why not? If we leave right now—”

  “It’s too dangerous at night.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I think you just don’t want to go.”

  He sighed. “It’s a complicated issue, Lily. We’re in Clare County. Carr knew that if he took her up to the Devil’s Ranch, which is right over the border into Gladwin County, we wouldn’t be able to press charges against him—if we even tried to.”

  “So you’re giving up? Just like that?”

  He tossed up his hands. “What do you want me to do? March up there, force my way in, and take the girl back at gunpoint?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now, now, children,” Vera said. “Stop your squabbling.”

  Oren had lit his pipe, and the familiar sweet tanginess of the tobacco rose into the air with each cloud he exhaled. The fire crackled with a cozy warmth that didn’t reach her.

  “I’m sure we can figure out some way to help Frankie,” Vera added. “But we won’t be able to do anything more tonight.”

  Lily wanted to shout that it might be too late if they waited until tomorrow. She knew the desperation Frankie was feeling at that very moment as she waited for someone to save her. Lily had felt it once too. She’d waited day after day at the orphanage for someone to rescue her and Daisy, for anyone to take them away from the loveless sterile building.

  But no one had ever come.

  She couldn’t let that happen to Frankie. Especially when she was in a brothel.

  “So you won’t take me tonight?” She gave Connell her most pleading look.

  “I already told you. It’s too risky—”

  “It’s worth the risk.” Frustration made her voice sharper than she intended.

  “Sakes alive, girl!” Oren finally sat forward. He glared at her, but deep in his eyes was a gentle pride. “Get on up to your bed, and before the crack of dawn I’ll drive you on up there and you can do one of your foolish rescues.”

  Lily smiled and her heart filled with gratefulness. She couldn’t forget to thank the Lord for blessing her with a friend like Oren. Maybe he wouldn’t take her right away like she wanted, but at least he was willing to help her.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for the two of you to go up to the Devil’s Ranch alone,” Connell said.

  “We’ll be fine. The two of us make a good team.” She crossed the room toward Oren.

  “The place is at least ten times more dangerous than the Stockade,” Connell added.

  “Lily’s done this rescue business a couple of times already,” Oren retorted. “And she’s fiercer than a mother wolf defending her pups.”

  She planted a kiss on Oren’s derby hat.

  He waved her away with his pipe. “Now, don’t you go thinking I won’t expect you to make up for the lost day of work—especially since I reckon we’ll need to take the girl on down to Molly May’s to keep her safe once and for all.”

  She turned away, and her smile faded.

  Was Connell right? Was rescuing Frankie too risky of a venture?

  Oren was a good man. She’d learned that in spite of all his grumbling, he would give his life to help others too. He’d put himself in danger for her already that winter.

  But now—this time—if Connell was right, maybe the danger was too great. Maybe it was finally time to go alone, to do what needed to be done on her own. Over the months Oren had come to mean the world to her, and she couldn’t bear to think of anything happening to him because of her.

  There was no need to jeopardize both of their lives. Was there?

  Besides, how could she wait . . . when every minute could make a difference in saving Frankie’s innocence?

  A rap on the door startled Connell awake. He jumped up from the corner chair and glanced toward his bed, still perfectly made.

  He hadn’t planned on dozing. He’d only wanted to rest and be ready whenever he heard Oren and Lily start out. Everything inside him protested the thought of them attempting such a foolish rescue mission on their own. He knew he could do nothing less than follow at a safe distance to make sure they were safe.

  Another knock sounded at the door, this one louder.

  He strode across the room, and instinctively his hand slid to the knife sheathed at his rib cage. He cracked the door and peered into the hollow blackness of the hallway.

  Instantly the cold tip of a rifle rammed into his temple. “Where’s Lily, you worthless piece of pond scum?” Oren growled at him.

  “I haven’t seen her.” Connell shoved the rifle away and refrained from pulling out his knife. He wouldn’t. Not on Oren. “I thought she was going with you.”

  Oren lowered his gun and muttered several oaths under his mustache.

  “Isn’t she in her room?” Connell had been listening for the squeak of the floorboards, for the click of her door down the hall from his room. How had he missed the sounds?

  Oren muttered again.

  Cold fear jabbed into him like the sharp end of a pike pole. “She didn’t start off to Merryville on her own, did she?”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.” Oren’s voice wavered, all bluster suddenly gone.

  Connell’s fear exploded into near panic. Without stopping to think, he grabbed the blankets from his bed and rolled them into a tight bundle. “What time do you think she left?” he asked, stuffing the bundle into one of his bags and then cramming in a pair of socks, his ax, and anything else he could find in his hurry.

  “I’m guessing she had no intention of letting me drive her,” Oren said. “She’s too impatient.”

  “So she got a sizable head start?”

  Oren didn’t say anything. But his silence spoke volumes.

  Connell shouldered the bag. Then without waiting to see if Oren follo
wed, he headed down to the kitchen. Through the darkness, he rummaged through the food stores, stuffing as much as he could into the sack.

  “Lily’s gone.” He heard Oren explain to Vera, who’d appeared in her nightgown. She wasted no time lighting a lantern and helping fill Connell’s bag.

  “There’s already an inch of fresh snow on the ground,” she said, bringing him his coat. “And with the way my foot’s been paining me all night, I’m guessing we’re in for a lot more.”

  They all knew the urgency of the situation. Travel would have been dangerous enough for a woman alone in the wilds of the Michigan wilderness on a calm winter evening. Of course there was the cold and the possibility of getting lost in the darkness. But with a snowstorm brewing, the danger had quadrupled.

  And then there were the wolves. In the dead of winter, they were more than a little hungry. Every winter a shanty boy or two disappeared. Sometimes in the spring after the thaw, they’d find a few scattered bones, all that remained after the pack’s meal.

  “You can take my sleigh,” Oren said, his shoulders stooped at least three inches more than usual.

  Connell pulled on his thick leather gloves. “I’ll be able to go faster on my horse.”

  “Then take my rifle.” Oren shoved the Winchester at him, along with a leather bullet pouch. The man had aged twenty years in twenty minutes.

  Connell tucked the gun under his arm, slung his pack across his back, and with lantern in hand, stepped into the snow. It was already blowing sideways and pelted him in the face. The sharpness of the wind took his breath away.

  He met Oren’s gaze one last time. The thick furrowed brows drooped low. “I’ll find her,” Connell reassured him, praying he was right, that it wasn’t too late.

  Within minutes, Mr. Heller had helped him saddle his horse, and he headed toward the Pere Marquette railroad line. He figured Lily was smart enough to follow the tracks as far as they would lead her. But the snow was blowing hard, and if she’d left any footprints, they were long gone.

  He quickly calculated that if Lily had left the hotel shortly after midnight, when all the lights had finally been extinguished, she’d likely gotten a two-hour head start. If she’d walked swiftly, he’d have to do some hard riding before he’d get within distance of her.