by Peterson, Tracie; Davis, Mary; Hake, Kelly Eileen; Stengl, Jill; Warren, Susan May
Heinrick approached her dressed in a muddy ankle-length duster, and holding the reins to his stomping bay. He smiled, but his eyes betrayed worry.
“Where have you been?” She clamped a hand over her mouth, ashamed at the desperation in her voice.
“Roundup.”
Lilly felt like a fool. All this time she thought he’d been ignoring her, hiding somewhere in a clump of Holsteins.
“I’m sorry, Heinrick. I just, well, missed you.” There, she’d said it. And it was the truth. She could have used his kind words, his wisdom, and his nudges to trust in the Lord.
Heinrick looked stricken. He grabbed her by the arm. “I need to talk to you.” Flinging his reins over a hitching post, he led her to the alley between Graham’s Pharmacy and the armory. Lilly frowned as he stepped into the shadows, but followed. Camouflaged in the semidarkness, Heinrick blew out a heavy breath, turning her to face him. His hat was pushed back on his head, and his hair was an inch longer, caught in the collar of his coat. Thick, white-blond stubble layered his cheeks, and something disturbing darkened his eyes.
“Lilly, I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you the whole truth.”
Her brow knotted in confusion.
“I saw you when you came out to the Torgesen T the last time. But…well, I didn’t want to see you, so I rode out, away from you.”
Lilly’s frown deepened, and she crossed her arms under her wool cape.
“I didn’t want to hurt you, Lilly, or confuse us.”
Us? “What are you talking about, Heinrick?”
He swept off his hat, rubbed the brim with his hands, and stared at the ground.
“I’m talking about you belonging to another man, Lilly. I’m talking about the fact you are pledged to marry someone else, and…I’m in love with you.”
Her jaw dropped and a tremor rippled up her spine.
“But I can’t have you.” Heinrick’s voice was hoarse, and he avoided her eyes. “And every time I see you, it feels like a knife turning in my chest.”
Shock rocked Lilly to her toes. Then, like a fragrant breeze, the joy swept through her heart. Heinrick loved her. That was why his eyes twinkled with delight when she was with him, why his voice always turned tender, and why he now looked more afraid than she’d ever seen him, even when facing the Craffey brothers. And she knew why her own heart now felt suddenly, wonderfully, alive.
“Oh Heinrick,” Lilly blurted, unable to stop herself. “I love you, too.”
Heinrick’s blue eyes probed hers, searching for the truth.
Lilly smiled broadly, love coursing through her veins with every beat of her heart. “Ya, Heinrick, I do!”
His eyes shone as a lopsided grin appeared on his face. He closed the gap between them in one smooth step. Then he slid a gloved hand around her neck. She jumped, then leaned into his strong grip.
Heinrick studied her for a moment, as if imprinting her face on his memory, examining her eyes, her hair, her nose, finally her lips. The expression in his eyes betrayed his intentions.
He wanted to kiss her.
Lilly’s breath caught in her throat and she tingled from head to toe. She felt frightened and hopeful all at once. She wanted to be inside his powerful arms, to feel the tenderness of his touch. But it was wrong. Despite her feelings and his, so vividly written on his face, she couldn’t allow him to kiss her. Lilly touched his chest, intending to push him away.
“Lillian Clark, what are you doing?”
The voice ripped them apart. Heinrick stepped away from her as Lilly whirled. Marjorie Pratt stood on the street, next to the armory, staring at them as if they had planted a bomb on Main Street. “What are you doing?” she repeated, her voice rising in horror.
Lilly felt sick. “Marjorie, please.”
“You are engaged to Reggie! And this man”—Marjorie pointed wildly at Heinrick—“is a German! His kind murdered Harley and Chuck and almost killed Reggie, and you are kissing him?” Her voice reached a shrill pitch, and Lilly stepped toward her.
“Marjorie, I’m not kissing him. We’re just talking.”
“That’s not what it looked like to me!”
Lilly shook her head, “Marj, please listen….”
“I will not listen, you…you…traitor!“Marjorie glared at her, shaking with fury. Lilly saw Marjorie’s rage and realized her friend was beyond reason. Then Marjorie bolted, plunging into the darkness. Lilly started after her, groaned, and let her go.
She turned and shot a helpless look at Heinrick. His defeated expression terrified her more than Marjorie’s fury. Heinrick replaced his hat, his mouth set in a muted line. His eyes were distant. “I’ll take you home.”
Lilly wanted to scream, weep, throw herself into his arms, and make him affirm his love for her. But his emotions were locked safely behind the same tortured, lonely expression she’d seen back at the Torgesen T. This time, however, instead of reaching out to her, pulling her into his world, he pushed her away. Her eyes filled.
Heinrick helped her into the saddle, then mounted his horse behind her. His arms wrapped around her, and she let herself enjoy the strong, safe place inside his forced embrace. He said nothing the entire ride home, but Lilly felt his chest move in heavy sighs as she leaned against him. When she glanced up into his shadowed face, hoping to find a glimmer of the love he’d unveiled in the alley, she saw only stone blue eyes peering into the darkness.
The wind moaned, along with her heart. The smell of wood fires lingered in the air, and perhaps the smoke singed her eyes, for tears edged down her cheeks.
When they reached her road, Heinrick reined the bay. “Should I take you to the house?” His voice seemed pinched, as if pushed through a vise.
Lilly’s throat burned. “No. I’d better get off here.”
Heinrick nodded and dismounted. Lilly let herself slide into his arms. He held her one moment longer than necessary, or maybe she imagined it. Then he released her, and she stepped away. She lifted her chin, waiting for him to remount his horse. A thousand words formed, but she couldn’t get them past the sorrow flooding her heart.
Heinrick grabbed his saddle horn and stared out across the prairie. “You were right, Lilly. I should have listened to you from the beginning. I seem to bring you nothing but trouble. I’m sorry.”
Lilly longed to refute his words. Oh no, Heinrick, you’ve brought me nothing but joy. But she saw in his eyes the futility of argument.
“I think, for your sake”—Heinrick’s voice turned stiff—“and for mine, this is good-bye.”
Lilly bit her lip and nodded woodenly.
“Lilly, don’t forget God loves you.” He kept the rest unspoken, but oh, how she wanted to hear it: and so do I.
She shivered as she watched him climb into the saddle. He spurred his horse and, in violent abruptness, was gone in a full gallop toward the Torgesen T.
Then there was just the terrible roaring of emptiness in her heart.
By Lilly’s estimation, the shelling started shortly after midnight. The first rock shattered one of the glass windows on the front of the house and landed in the living room, next to her mother’s willow rocker. The second volley destroyed the other window and smashed a stack of fine china her mother had carted west from Chicago.
By the time the third rock hurtled through the parlor window and crushed the mantle clock, her father was in the living room, pulling on his cotton workpants and flipping suspenders over his shoulders. Lilly watched from the doorway of her bedroom as her mother flew down the stairs, despite orders to stay put. Lilly realized her mother’s intentions were not to save her collection of gel teacups from the old country nor the freshly caned straight-back chairs. No, she headed straight for Olive and Christian’s room, located in the lean-to on the main floor.
Olive appeared, clutching a screaming Christian, her face the color of chalk. “What’s going on?” she shrieked.
Mother Clark slung her arm around them. “Upstairs!” she commanded.
From the la
nding, Lilly clutched Bonnie’s hand and watched them race for the stairway. A rock blew through the kitchen window, scattering glass at their heels. Olive’s terrified scream shook the house.
“Hurry!” Lilly yelled.
Olive and her mother scampered up the stairs two at a time. Her older sister dove past Lilly and flew into her parents’ room. Lilly saw her throw Christian on the bed and cover him with her body. Mrs. Clark grabbed Bonnie by the arm, meaning to pull both her girls along with her, but Lilly broke away from Bonnie’s grasp and scrambled down the stairs.
“Lilly, come back here!” her mother called, racing down the hall to retrieve the boys.
Lilly skidded to a halt in the parlor. Her father was crouched below a window. He shot her a frown. “Get down.”
She dropped to all fours and crawled across the floor. “Who’s doing this?”
He put a finger to his lips.
Outside, Lilly heard slurred, enraged voices.
“That’s Clive Torgesen!” Her chest tightened. A rock ripped through an unbroken pane and glass sprayed the room. Lilly cried out as her father shielded her with his body. The rock thudded into a Queen Anne armchair.
“I’m going out there,” he said.
Lilly grabbed his arm. “No, Father, they’ll kill you!”
He jerked his arm away. “I’ve got to stop them before they do real damage, like set fire to the house.”
Lilly’s heart froze in her chest.
Jumping up, she scuttled behind her father.
“Lilly, get upstairs!” He opened the front door.
She backed away and hid behind the parlor door frame.
Her father stepped onto the porch. Lilly tiptoed to the front door, sidled to one side, and peeked out. In the moonlight, she could make out four men: Clive Torgesen, two of his cattle hands, and an older man. Lilly gasped. The last was Harry Bishop, Marjorie’s cousin, and from latest accounts, an outlaw. Marjorie had obviously raced straight home and informed her family what she’d seen in Mobridge.
Mr. Clark held up a steady hand and spoke in a loud voice. “Howdy, boys. What seems to be the problem?”
Guilt edged Lilly onto the porch. This was her doing, and she had to face it.
Clive balled his hands on his hips and swayed. “Your daughter’s a Benedict Arnold, Clark!”
“I have three daughters, boys, and all of them are loyal to the Red, White, and Blue.” Her father’s calm voice mustered Lilly’s courage.
Harry pointed a quivering finger at him. “That ain’t true! Marjorie caught her kissing a German right here in this very town!”
Lilly’s breath caught, but she propelled her legs forward and darted behind her father, clutching his arm. The wind whipped through her cotton nightgown and even from five feet away, the pungent odor of whiskey hit her with a stinging force. Lilly’s eyes watered from the stench. Her father didn’t spare her a glance.
“My daughter is engaged to Reggie Larsen, boys. She wouldn’t go near another man.” His voice sounded so sure, Lilly was sickened to think he was about to be made a fool.
“You need to keep a shorter leash on her!” Clive stumbled forward and threw a bottle onto the porch. It smashed at her father’s feet. He didn’t even flinch.
“This here is a warnin’—you keep that girl of yours under lock and key and away from the enemy, or we’ll teach her and your whole family a lesson in patriotism!” Clive curled his lip and spat on the ground. He waved at Lilly, who shrank behind her father. “I see you there, missy. And I know what ya done. Your friend Henry is gonna git a reminder about keepin’ his paws off American girls!”
Lilly went cold. Heinrick against Clive and three drunken brutes? She closed her eyes and buried her face in her father’s back.
“Get outta here, boys.” Her father’s voice carried on the wind and must have seemed like thunder to the inebriated men because they spooked and backed up.
“You remember what we said, missy! You stay home!”
As her father stood there, Lilly saw him as a lone wall of protection between a prejudiced world and his family. She was horrified to know she’d brought it on, but profoundly thankful for her father’s courage. He was stoic as the four men rode off. Then he whirled, grabbed Lilly by her thin cotton-clothed arm, and marched her back into the house.
That’s when she began to tremble.
Chapter 22
We’ll clean up, then we’ll talk.” Her father’s voice was tight.
Lilly instantly discovered untapped energy. She swept the broken glass and fastened the shutters. Her mother, Olive, and Bonnie worked silently beside her. Lilly shed noiseless tears as she watched her mother pile the broken china on the kitchen table. Bonnie occasionally frowned in her direction, but it was Olive’s unmasked glare that made Lilly want to crawl under her bed and hide.
Finally, the house was put in order. Their mother sent Bonnie, DJ, and Frankie to their rooms. Olive stomped upstairs and slammed the door to her parents’ bedroom. Lilly’s mother sank into the willow rocker and folded her hands on her lap, her mouth a muted line. Her father ran his hand through his brown hair and paced in a circle near the sofa. Lilly knew he fought a swelling anger.
“What’s this all about, Lilly?”
“I know what it’s about!” Olive snarled from the top landing. A scarecrow in her white nightgown, fury blazed in Olive’s dark eyes, and her face twisted in rage. She stormed down the stairs, waving a parchment envelope.
Lilly went numb. “Where did you get that?”
Olive ignored her. “It’s a letter from him. From that German spy she met in town!”
Lilly clenched her teeth and glanced at her father. A muscle tensed in his jaw as he looked between his two daughters. He frowned at Lilly, and she shrank into a hard-backed chair.
Olive wore a crazed look. “You’ve been getting letters from him, haven’t you? Letters from the enemy! You’re a traitor! You’ve betrayed us all.” She threw the letter at Lilly. It spiraled to the floor. Lilly ducked her head.
“Go to bed, Olive.”
Olive recoiled from her father’s command as if she’d been slapped. She stabbed a finger at Lilly. “She doesn’t deserve Reggie.”
Silence threw a thousand accusing jabs as Lilly weighed those words. Then Olive’s wretched sobs broke the stunned quiet. She covered her face with her hands, and her body shook. Her father held her.
Lilly’s heart twisted and tears flowed as she watched her sister suffer. She’d never meant to bring this kind of grief to her family.
Olive finally disentangled herself from her father’s grasp. Without a glance at Lilly, she turned and climbed the stairs, every thump echoing through the house. Lilly heard her parents’ bedroom door close.
Her father turned to her. His lips were pinched in suppressed fury. She sucked a deep breath and glanced at her mother, who offered her a slightly pitying look. Mr. Clark sat on the edge of the sofa, clasped his hands together, and raised his brows.
Lilly gulped. Then, working her fingers into knots, she spilled out the story. She started with the fight on the street, included the English lessons, the horseback ride, the butterfly comb, and her confrontation with Marjorie.
“But I didn’t kiss him,” Lilly insisted.
Her father shook his head. “You didn’t have to—you already gave him your heart. That’s betrayal enough.”
Lilly caught her breath. He was right. She had given Heinrick her heart. And in doing so, she’d been unfaithful to Reggie. But they were all missing the most important part of her story.
“Father, Heinrick opened a door to God. Somehow, through his words, I saw that I feared God, as if He were a wolf waiting to eat me if I did something wrong. But Heinrick showed me that isn’t true. God loves me and has a good plan for my life. And when I make mistakes or don’t do everything right, I am still loved. Heinrick taught me how to trust God, no matter what happens. He showed me the keys to freedom, to joy, and God unlocked my prison.”
&nb
sp; Her father’s face softened, and Lilly was relieved to see his anger dissolve. “Lilly,” he said in his controlled bass, “you’ve cost this family a great deal this evening by your impulsiveness. You’ve shown bad judgment—”
“But what about—”
He held up a hand and silenced his daughter with a piercing look. “You’re engaged to another man, Lilly. You’ve made a commitment to him, and you owe him your promise.”
Lilly glanced at her mother. Her mother’s eyes were wide, and she leaned forward in the rocker.
“I forbid you ever to see this Heinrick again, Lilly. You will stay home, and if you leave the house, you will be with Bonnie, Olive, or your parents.” Her father lowered his voice. “When Reggie gets home, you will plead his forgiveness. And we will all hope and pray he forgives you and decides to marry you anyway.”
Lilly felt as if he had slugged her. “Father, you can’t want me to marry someone I don’t love!”
He leaned back into the fraying sofa and put his wide weathered hands on his knees. “You do love Reggie, Lilly. You haven’t seen him for over a year. You were lonely, and we can understand your vulnerability. But that’s over. Reggie is coming home, and you’ll see I’m right.” His eyes kneaded her with a sudden tenderness, and Lilly’s eyes filled with new tears. “Honey, I am doing this for you. For your own good.” He glanced at his wife. “She’ll thank me later.”
Lilly couldn’t look at her mother. Tears dripped off her chin, and she felt as if she’d just been dressed down like a six-year-old. She had less freedom than Frankie did. And her father was going to give her to a man she didn’t love.
The realization hit her like a winter blast. She didn’t love Reggie. How could that be? She’d grown up with him, practically worshiped him from the day he started teasing her at school. She thought he’d made her dreams come true when he asked her to marry him. Reggie was her life. How could she think she didn’t love him?