by Jody Hedlund
Most of the men who boarded in town were other camp bosses, businessmen, railway engineers, mill workers, and laborers who worked at the loading station—like Jimmy Neil—unloading logs the narrow gauges brought out of the various camps and reloading them onto the beds of the Pere Marquette railroad.
Very few of the men brought their families to the remote lumber town and so had little better to do in the evenings than frequent the places of debauchery.
Lily glanced in disdain to the many taverns she’d visited over the past several weeks. If only the town had more wholesome diversions—like a church or a school.
Ahead of Lily, the bell jingled on the pharmacy door as it swung open. Maggie Carr stepped out, tossing one end of her scarlet scarf over her shoulder. She carried a parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied with string.
When she glimpsed Lily, she stopped. Above the edge of the scarf that covered her mouth and nose, recognition flared in the woman’s eyes.
Lily’s footsteps faltered. “You had no right to take Frankie.” The words burst out before she could stop them.
Maggie’s cheeks rose and her eyes narrowed in the telltale signs of a self-satisfied smile. “You had no right to interfere.”
Lily’s insides curdled. “I had every right to step in. And I won’t rest until I find a way to run you and your husband out of town.”
“Don’t waste your energy, sugar.” Maggie’s voice was laced with cold contempt. And before Lily could say anything more, the woman flipped the other side of her scarf over her shoulder and turned away.
Lily had the sudden urge to grab her, hold her hostage, threaten to pull off the scarf, and reveal her deformities unless she promised to let Frankie go. But instead, Lily watched with frustration as Maggie marched across the street, heading in the direction of the Stockade.
“Maggie Carr is a wicked woman,” Lily said as she walked into the Harrison Herald moments later. The air was heavy with the metallic scent of ink and oil. The steady thump-thump of the hand-fed printing press added to the pounding of her determination.
Stuart lifted his foot from the treadle of the jobber, and all the various wheels whirred to a standstill. His brow lifted with surprise. “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be out of bed yet.”
Lily crossed the room to the only chair, which was piled with old newspapers. “If I have to stay in bed one more day, I’m going to wither up and die.” She hefted the papers onto the already littered desk.
“You need a couple more days of recuperation, at least.” Stuart’s voice rang with worry.
“I’ve weathered worse.” With her teeth, she tugged off her mitten. “Besides, I’m a strong woman.”
Stuart grabbed a rag and wiped his ink-blackened fingertips. “Come on. I’m taking you back.”
She dropped into the chair.
Haunted fear rimmed his eyes, as if he were seeing someone else instead of her. Was her illness bringing back too many memories of the wife he’d lost?
She wanted to tell him to stop worrying, that she wasn’t his wife and she wasn’t going to die—at least anytime soon. “I promise I’ll go back to bed just as soon as you agree to my plan.”
“What plan?” Connell’s voice came from the doorway.
Her heart skittered forward like a young colt learning to walk. She shifted in the chair, eager for another chance to see him. The encounter in the dining room the evening before had been too brief and had only left her longing for more of him.
He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his fair hair was jabbed into an unruly mess, almost as if he’d spent a sleepless night in his office.
She gave him a smile, one that likely let him see all her desire. At the moment, she didn’t care if he knew how much she’d missed him.
But he didn’t smile back—not even to give her the barest hint of pleasure that he was as glad to see her as she was him, like he had last night. Instead, he looked tired, almost sad.
Her heartbeat tripped and stumbled over itself. What was wrong? Where was the sweet heat in his eyes that had recently reached out to caress her whenever they met?
“So what’s your plan?” he asked again.
Her smile faded, and what was left of it felt brittle. “I’m ready to start a Red Ribbon Society here in Harrison.”
Connell didn’t say anything.
“I know you don’t think it’ll make much of a difference,” she hurried. “But if we want to fight James Carr, we need to stir the public opinion against him. A Red Ribbon Society could be one way to do that.”
Stuart rubbed his beard as though pondering her suggestion. But Connell’s eyes only narrowed.
“Since we can’t use the law to stop that villain,” she said more emphatically, “our only choice is for all the God-fearing citizens of Harrison and the surrounding area to rise up and drive him out.”
Both men were quiet. The only sound was the pop of wood in the corner stove.
Had she grabbed their attention? Would they go for her plan? Her blood spurted with a burst of anticipation. “Of course you’ll still need to investigate Carr’s dealings and see if you can find something concrete against him. But in the meantime, we can begin to expose his corruption to everyone in the county.”
Stuart nodded. “Okay. I see where you’re going with this. And it just might work.”
“Maybe you could print up flyers announcing the start of the Red Ribbon Society along with the date and time of our first meeting.”
“If we rally everyone against him,” Stuart continued, “it’ll be a lot easier to bring him down when we finally do have solid evidence.”
“Exactly.”
His eyes took on a spark that matched the fervor inside her.
Connell’s tired expression only drooped. “Your idea has potential,” he finally said. “But you have to remember Carr is a dangerous man, and he’ll find a way to hurt anyone who takes a stand against him. I doubt you’ll find many who will want to risk making an enemy of him.”
“That’s why we’ve got to band together against him,” she said. “There’s power in solidarity. And usually once a few people make a stand, the rest will follow.”
“Good luck getting even a few,” Connell said. “People are afraid of him.”
“You mean you’re afraid of him.” Sudden irritation pushed her straighter in the chair.
Connell didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then he sighed. “I’m not afraid of him personally. But he has the power to damage McCormick Lumber.”
“Then you won’t join in the crusade?”
“I’m not willing to jeopardize everything my father’s worked for all these years just for the slight chance that we can raise public awareness and dislike of Carr. What good will it do?”
Anger needled her, driving her to her feet. “How can you say such a thing?” Her voice trembled. Even though she’d expected less enthusiasm from Connell for her plan, she’d hoped with all that had happened to Frankie that he’d had a change of heart about fighting against the evil.
“I want to see Carr brought to justice as much as you do,” Connell said quickly. “But a bunch of angry townspeople won’t be able to make a dent against him. We’re going to have to wait until we have something big to use against him.”
“I can’t wait!” When she’d lain in bed and formulated her plans, she’d been so sure she was doing what God wanted. He was putting the pieces of her life together—like Vera had mentioned. And surely He wouldn’t mind her stepping in and moving things along more quickly. Oren would finish his picture taking in another week or two. Her time in Harrison was numbered. “I need to do all I can right away.”
“If we rush, we’ll only bring trouble upon ourselves. Haven’t you learned that by now?”
“The lives of precious young girls are at stake. What’s more important? Your father’s bank account or saving lives?”
“Aw, come on, Lily. That’s not a fair question.”
She shot a glance at Stuart, hoping for his support.
He reached absently for a wooden box on the table next to the press. An assortment of lead type clinked together within the cases.
“Stuart knows how much trouble he’ll bring down on himself if he faces off against Carr,” Connell said. “Don’t you, Stu?”
Stuart hesitated. Then he looked at Connell. “I understand what you’re saying, but if Lily is brave enough to fight against the devil, don’t you think we should too, no matter what it might cost us?”
“You could end up losing a lot of business,” Connell said. “And if Carr gets mad enough, you’ll risk losing the newspaper altogether.”
“Maybe that’s a chance I’ll have to take.” Stuart glanced at her as if seeking her affirmation.
She gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “We all have to make sacrifices in the fight for what’s right.”
“Think about it, Connell,” Stuart pleaded. “As a man with status in this community, if you join in the fight, you’ll set a great example to many others and give them courage.”
Connell was quiet for a long moment. Finally he sighed. “As much as I’d like to see Carr get what he deserves, I can’t throw away everything I’ve worked so hard to build in the McCormick business for the slim chance you’ll be able to stop the man.”
Lily didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until it swooshed out, taking all her anger with it. All that was left was an empty ache—regret that Connell wasn’t the man she wanted him to be, the kind of man who would sacrifice for things that really mattered.
As though sensing her frustration with him, he lifted his head. “Don’t worry. You won’t have to put up with me any longer. I’m moving out of the Northern today.”
“You are?” she said at the same time as Stuart.
She didn’t want to care where he went or what he did—but she did care. A whole lot.
“With all the recent rumors . . .” he started but then stopped and kicked a wadded paper across the littered floor.
Oren had been muttering under his breath all week about nasty rumors men were spreading about her and Connell, but she’d hoped he was being overprotective like he usually was. “Tell me what they’re saying,” she said. “I can handle it.”
Faint streaks of red crawled up his neck.
She waited for a moment for Connell to elaborate. When he didn’t, she turned to Stuart. “They better not be jumping to the worst kinds of conclusions. They know Connell’s a good man and wouldn’t take advantage of me.”
Stuart dug his fingers around in the case of type and peered at the various pieces intently, as if nothing were more important at that moment than finding a particular letter.
“What are people saying?” she asked, glancing from one man to the other. But neither would meet her gaze.
Wariness settled in her stomach. “I guess that means people are assuming the worst?”
Finally Connell’s eyes met hers. The apology in them only made her more uneasy. “The rumors are ugly, Lily. And I’d rather you didn’t have to hear them.”
“I’m sure I’ll find out eventually.”
Anguish mixed with the apology in his eyes and wrinkled his brow. “They’re saying that I’m living with you in sin—that you’re my harlot.”
Even though his words came as no surprise, they crashed into her anyway with a force that left her reeling with embarrassment.
His sad expression told her he wasn’t exaggerating.
“Well then, we’re just going to have to tell everyone they’re mistaken.”
“It’s not that easy. Especially not when the rumor has already reached my dad over in Bay City.”
A new kind of horror added to the chaos in her gurgling stomach. Connell’s dad? Bay City? She reached a trembling hand for the chair behind her and lowered herself into it. How completely awful. She’d never expected to meet his parents, never even once considered it. But, even so, she didn’t want them to know her as a prostitute.
A prostitute.
She shuddered and pressed shaking fingers against her temple. She’d always taken care with her reputation. Wasn’t she fighting against the very thing for which she was now being accused?
“That’s why I’m moving out,” Connell said. “If I keep my distance from you, then hopefully the rumors will die down.”
How could this have happened? Had she brought this upon herself with her foolish headstrong ways?
Her heart pounded against her chest. If the townspeople thought she was a prostitute, why would they join with her in trying to rid Harrison of Carr? They wouldn’t trust her. They’d consider her a hypocrite. They’d hesitate to join her efforts to start a Red Ribbon Society—if they would give it any thought at all.
“I’m sorry, Lily,” Connell said softly.
“It’s not your fault.”
“I take full responsibility. I should have moved out earlier in the week.”
“Busybodies will always find ways to spread gossip.” She pushed a hand against her heart, trying to fend off the pain and the shame. She’d never let discouragement defeat her in the past. She’d always stood strong against adversity.
Why should she do any differently now? She couldn’t let a few bad rumors ruin her plans.
With a burst of heated passion, she shoved herself back to her feet. “I don’t care what anyone thinks about me. I won’t let the rumors stop me from starting the Red Ribbon Society.” Her heart thudded forward, not with the usual fervor, but forward nevertheless. She might be having a slight setback, but she couldn’t let it change her determination to do all that God was calling her to do.
She could feel Connell’s gaze upon her, but she couldn’t bear to look in his eyes, not when she knew what people were saying about them—that they were lovers, that she’d lain in his arms and shared intimacies with him.
A flush stole over her. It was a good thing no one had to know she really had lain against him. But even as another wave of embarrassment coursed through her, warmth followed in its wake.
She was ashamed to admit how much she’d enjoyed being with him. And the truth was she couldn’t stop from dreaming about being in his arms again.
Chapter
15
From his second-story office, Connell stared down at Stuart and Lily standing together on Main Street in front of the Harrison Herald. They’d been in and out of businesses for the last hour, passing out the flyer Stuart had printed yesterday announcing the start of their Red Ribbon Society.
With cheeks flushed from the cold, Lily beamed at Stuart, apparently pleased with their efforts. And Stuart grinned back, adoration lighting his face.
Connell’s fingers tightened with the need to run down and pull Stuart away from Lily. His friend obviously cared about her. From the way he rushed to do her bidding every time she uttered a word, it was clear he found great pleasure in being with her.
The question was, did Lily feel the same way about Stuart?
Connell’s gut twisted at the thought. He didn’t want Lily to care for Stu. He didn’t want her to care about anyone—except for him.
Yet, what hope did he have of winning Lily’s heart when they had such different goals and aspirations? On the other hand, she and Stuart seemed to work well together. And Stuart was such a decent guy.
He’d even invited Connell to move into his house with him—at least until Lily and Oren left Harrison.
Connell didn’t have the heart to refuse the kindness of his friend, even though he’d had to wade through the clutter and disarray that covered every square inch of floor in Stuart’s home. Connell doubted the place had been cleaned since Stuart’s wife had last set about the task before she’d become ill.
The modest two-story home sat on the edge of Harrison with a cluster of other residences. When Connell had shoved his bag under the single bed in the room Stuart had pointed him to, he had to fight back a depressing shudder.
A wooden rockin
g horse sat in one corner, the red paint of the saddle chipped and peeling away. A child-sized cowboy hat and a hand-carved gun lay on the floor next to the horse.
Connell wanted to gather all the reminders of Stuart’s past life and put them into a crate. It was time for the man to move on and find a woman who could make his house a home again, who could clear out the traces of pain and bring him new joy.
A weight pressed against Connell’s heart. Yes, Stuart deserved a good woman like Lily. They were alike in so many ways. She would most certainly bring him joy.
Connell leaned his shoulder against the window frame and watched the way one of her curls tickled her pink cheek.
If only he didn’t want Lily for himself.
“So I talked with Carr last night.” Tierney sat at the desk, pretending to flip through the books and take an interest in the figures. It was the first time his brother had made any attempt to think about business since he’d arrived. Of course, he couldn’t put it off any longer, since he was planning to leave in an hour.
Tierney’s eyes were glazed from the past several sleepless nights of drinking and whoring. And Connell doubted he could even read the careful calculations within the ledgers, much less make sense of them.
“Please tell me you didn’t go to the Stockade.” Connell glanced in the distance to the tavern towering on the hill above town. “After all I told you about the way Carr is tricking girls into working for him, I’d expect you to boycott him.”
“You’re exaggerating. As usual.” The chair squeaked under Tierney’s weight as he leaned back and combed a hand through his disheveled hair. What would Rosemarie think when Tierney returned home hung over, with bloodshot eyes and the sour stench of liquor in every pore? Would she notice? Or was she used to it by now?
“You know as well as I do that Carr is a scoundrel.” Connell didn’t care that his voice was testy.
“He’s a powerful businessman.” The legs of the chair thumped against the floor. “And according to him, you’ve been stirring up trouble lately.”
“I’d say it’s the other way around—he’s the one causing the trouble.”