“I was mortified when I learnt you were still living here. Major Maximus might be a gentleman of the highest order, but to have a young woman and a child here unchaperoned is disgraceful.” She fanned her face with a lace handkerchief. “You had no right staying here. If this ever gets out. The disgrace will be ruinous.”
“I had no choice, I couldn’t get work anywhere else. There was no money left after we paid for Ma’s funeral.”
“Ma? Good heavens, you sound like that uncouth father of yours. Good for nothing Irishman he was.”
Normally Lily would have jumped to her father’s defense, but she was so desperate not to upset Aunt Mildred she ignored the insult.
“Where’s your sister?”
“She’s at school.”
“Well, where is the Major?”
“I’m not sure, he spends a lot of time away from here.”
“I’ll leave him a note. Pack all your things and be ready in two hours, I’ll send George over to collect you.”
“Would you like a cup of tea?” Lily suddenly remembered her manners.
“Certainly not. Two hours.” She minced out of the room and down the hallway, leaving Lily to scuttle after her.
It would be no bed of roses living with Aunt Mildred; anything was better than this hell on earth.
****
Once Lily was at Aunt Mildred’s house, she placed her own and Julia’s meager possessions in the huge wardrobe, she tidied herself up and waited for George, her aunt’s driver and gardener, to drive her to the school.
Julia would be pleased to live here. She liked pretty things and this place was so full of them it almost had a cluttered appearance. The house wasn’t anywhere near as large as the Major’s, although it was a well-kept double story place. George’s wife, Maggie, was the housekeeper. It was adequate staff as Aunt Mildred spent most of her time in Charleston. A shame for such a nice house to be empty so often. Still, living between here and Charleston would be no hardship for her and Julia.
At the two roomed school, Lily waited for Julia who skipped out giggling and with her arm linked to that of another girl.
“What are you doing here?” She let go of her friend and stepped over to Lily.
“We’ll be living with Aunt Mildred from now on.”
“I love Aunt Mildred’s house.” Julia waved at her friend and grabbed Lily’s hand and did a little jig.
Lily nearly said, you’ve only been there a few times. Why dampen the child’s enthusiasm?
George was very taken with Julia, who wouldn’t be? She was a bright and pretty child with blonde curly hair and enormous cornflower blue eyes. She looked like an angel, and everyone loved her. I’m as dull as dishwater in comparison Lily thought with a twinge of - was it jealousy? She hated herself for being so mean spirited.
At least they were out of Major Maximus’ clutches. He was a twenty minute drive away from Aunt Mildred’s, so it was unlikely their paths would ever cross again.
She would never get over what had happened in the run-down mansion, what he had made her do. The best she could hope for was to push it to the deepest recesses of her mind and hope it stayed there. Only she and the Major really knew what happened. It was the only comfort she could cling to.
****
Life over the next few years settled into a pattern. Aunt Mildred had taken Julia under her wing and lavished attention on her, and like a sponge the child had soaked it all up. While Aunt Mildred and Julia spent a lot of time in Charleston and travelling the world, Lily stayed at the house in New Orleans.
It hurt because her aunt lavished everything on her younger niece and practically ignored her older one. More than ignored Lily thought, if truth be known she acts like she hates me even though I’ve never done anything to displease her.
After George and Maggie had moved to the house in Charleston, Lily had taken over the running of this place. She didn’t mind working hard, but was it too much to expect a little praise and gratitude, and decent, regular wages?
All she ever got were complaints and ridicule. Aunt Mildred treated her worse than the lowliest servant. What really hurt was Julia now treated her in the same way, expecting to be waited on hand and foot, her every whim catered for.
Doesn’t she remember how hard I worked at Major Maximus’ place to keep a roof over our heads? She didn’t know about the nocturnal activities, and never would, but life had been hard for them and she had been old enough to remember that. Aunt Mildred had turned a sweet little girl into a demanding, petulant brat.
Lily closed her eyes to erase the pain in her heart at her sister’s desertion. Julia had only travelled to New Orleans to buy material and lace for her wedding gown. Nothing more, nothing less.
How had they found out about her deep, dark secret? Julia must have discovered what happened each time she had left their bed in the middle of the night.
Chapter Three
Matt and Lily – New Orleans
Matt Brayshaw hesitated outside the ramshackle red brick building just off Toulouse Street in New Orleans. It might have once been a factory by the looks of it. Peeling paintwork on the front door, and small, dirty windows, surely Rachel wouldn’t live in a place like this. His sister had always been so fastidious.
He pulled her letter out of his pocket and checked the address again, he was at the right place. Shuddering with distaste, he banged on the door with a clenched fist. No wonder she had wanted to leave. Please Matt, come and get me and Annie, I want to go home.
He thought of her no-good husband, Roger Dunbar and gritted his teeth to stop himself cussing out loud. She never should have married him and left Texas.
The door creaked open and he was confronted by a Creole woman, the largest female he had ever clapped eyes on. She was six feet tall and three axe handles wide. She stared at him with suspicion and dislike. “What yer want?”
“I’m Matt Brayshaw, I’m looking for my sister Rachel Dunbar.”
The woman grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the dingy hallway. “Were yer followed,” she growled.
“Not that I know of.” Was the woman loco?
“She’s passed.”
“What!” Matt felt like he had been gut shot. “What happened? When?
“A few days ago.”
He was too late to save his sister. Tears welled in his eyes. They had always been close until she met Dunbar and fell for his honeyed lies.
“Annie!” He suddenly remembered his niece.
“She’s being well taken care of.”
Matt belatedly took off his Stetson now he was inside. “What happened to Rachel?”
The woman was only an inch or two shorter than him, and her animosity was tangible.
“Yer took too long to get here.”
“I got here as soon as I could, I had to come from Texas.”
He wondered why he was justifying himself to this woman. Well, to be honest he hadn’t rushed here like he should have. He would have hurried had Rachel said she was in trouble.
“I befriended Rachel when Mr. Dunbar moved them here. He spent most of his time in the gambling dens. Accused a southern gentleman of cheating and they drew on each other.” The woman’s mouth twisted with distaste. “He was never as fast on the draw as he thought he was.”
“I don’t care about the sonofabitch, only Rachel and Annie. I came to take them back home.”
“I’m Delores. Yer sister caught the fever and died. I saw a Baptist Pastor and made sure she had a decent Christian burial.
“I was too late even for that.” Sorrow filled his voice. “If only I’d have got here sooner.”
She knew yer was coming, and it gave her great comfort knowing Annie would be taken care of. I think she knew her time on earth was coming to an end. If the fever hadn’t taken her life, her no good husband would have, that’s why she begged me to hide little Annie.”
“Hide her?” Matt was feeling more confused with every passing moment.
“The evil cre
ature sold her to pay a gambling debt. His own daughter, barely five years old and he sold her, may he rot in hell.”
“Sold her?” Matt rocked back on his heels with the shock. He couldn’t believe he was hearing right. Roger had always been a low down varmint, but this. It was diabolical.
“Yes, that’s why Rachel wanted to get away from here. She was frightened the Thompson man, would try to get her. When Rachel died I smuggled Annie out to my sister’s place just in case. An orphan child would be easier to steal than one with a mother. My sister has six little ones of her own to worry about, but she was prepared to help out.”
“Thank you for looking after them.” It should have been me caring for them he thought bitterly. Maybe Rachel might still be alive. Why had he been stupid enough to believe there was no desperate rush?
Delores poked him in the ribs. “Are you listening to me, cowboy?”
“Yes, sorry. Thompson? What was his Christian name?”
“Alvin I think. Why?”
Matt was reeling with the shock. Alvin Thompson, surely it couldn’t be the same man who had him kicked out of the Texas Rangers? He swallowed down on the bitter memories. If it was him, he was a vicious sonofabitch who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. The sooner he collected his niece and high-tailed it out of here the better.
He had to be cautious, think the worst and hope for the best.
“I’d like to be able to see Rachel’s grave, but daren’t risk it. If this man is the Alvin Thompson I know, he’s the devil incarnate.”
“I’ve never seen him,” Delores said. “He’s got a bad reputation, owns several gambling halls and bordellos. I’ve heard of dozens of soiled doves who worked at his place and disappeared, never to be seen again. Collect little Annie and leave New Orleans and don’t come back.”
“Um,” he didn’t know how to say it, except straight out. “How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing, Rachel was a friend who did me some favors. You can say the debt has been paid now.”
“Thank you.”
Matt was glad of the twin guns he carried, it was somehow comforting to feel them against each thigh.
“There’s a woman I know who lets out rooms. Her place is near the station, nothing grand, though clean and comfortable.” She gave Matt the address. “Go there and wait. Leave your bag here, I’ll get it brought over. I’ll bring little Annie to you this afternoon. Be careful.”
“Thank you, Delores, I’ll be real careful.”
Matt checked to make sure no one was loitering around before stepping out into the street. Tension surged through him tightening every muscle in his body. He forced himself to stroll along a couple of streets, before turning right and heading toward the Mississippi River.
He watched a paddle steamer pass by, the giant wheel churning through the water. To any passerby he didn’t have a care in the world.
He sauntered around the French quarter, stopping to have a coffee. Fragrant and strong as it was, every mouthful gagged in his throat. If anyone had been following him surely his three hours of meandering would have shaken them off.
Casting a furtive glance in every direction he stood and strode off. He had only been here a couple of times and didn’t particularly like New Orleans because it was crowded and noisy, with an overpowering scent of spices and flowers.
The place Delores had recommended was a double story house with a pretty, slightly overgrown garden.
His knock at the door was answered by a smiling elderly lady. He swept off his Stetson. “I’m Matt Brayshaw, Delores said you would have a room available.”
“Yes, come in, I’m Mrs. Jones. I don’t take in many boarders now, too old to be bothered. I have an upstairs room, which would be suitable. It has a single bed and a double bed in it. It will cost you two dollars a night including breakfast and supper.”
“Thank you, sounds perfect.” He wasn’t sure how pricey things were in New Orleans now, although it didn’t seem unreasonable. Not that he cared, he would have paid twenty dollars if he had to under the circumstances.
The hallway smelled of beeswax polish, triggering memories of his mother using it. This small bird like woman walked with a slightly lopsided gait.
“I don’t do lunch. Breakfast and supper are served in the parlor.” She threw the words over one shoulder as he followed her up a flight of stairs. “Your bag was brought over a while ago.” She hardly paused for breath. “I only have a couple of guests staying here at the moment, one of them is permanent and there’s a young lady who is passing through like you.”
Matt didn’t know why the woman felt obliged to tell him about the other people staying here. He nodded politely.
“Come to the kitchen whenever you like, the coffee pot is always hot, so help yourself at any time.” She left with a swish of her skirts.
The room was clean and quite spacious. The beds had matching yellow patchwork quilts. There was a dresser with a China jug and bowl resting on it. Basic, but it suited his needs.
He removed his gun belt and boots before stretching out on the double bed. Closing his eyes he let his mind drift to happier times.
He and Rachel had always been close, now she was dead because of her sonofabitch, no good husband. He had never liked Roger Dunbar, and had begged his sister not to marry him. Roger was too handsome and vain for his tastes and a liar to boot. He had claimed to belong to one of New Orleans grandest families, and headstrong, stubborn Rachel couldn’t see beneath the debonair charm. It was as fake as Roger was. In truth, he was a gambler who had lived on his wits and skill at cards.
I’m glad the stinking polecat is dead.
If only Rachel had contacted him earlier his poor willful sister might still be alive and his niece wouldn’t be an orphan. The last time he had seen Annie she was only two years old, so she wouldn’t remember him. It was a terrible thing to admit, that he doubted he would recognize her, either.
He knew nothing about children and lived on an isolated ranch miles from the nearest decent town. A man on his own couldn’t bring up a little girl. Look at how the Guilford girls had turned out. Ruth and Steve McDonald would be perfect parents for a little orphan.
Steve was a circuit preacher whose flock stretched out over four different towns. He conducted services once a month at each place. After he had been kicked out of the Texas Rangers Steve had been a staunch friend. He knew the full story of what had happened to him. How he had been set up by Alvin Thompson for a crime the man had committed himself.
Matt cringed every time he thought about what he had been accused of. No-one except Steve had believed in his innocence. When the truth had finally come out, it was too late. His life was ruined. He had lost his job as a Texas Ranger and the respect of everyone he had known in Austin, not to mention Lucy, the girl he had been stepping out with.
Steve and Ruth would be perfect parents for Annie. They lived just out of La Grange, which wasn’t too far away from his own ranch so he could visit regularly. He was Annie’s only relative now and wanted to stay in her life. It was the perfect solution. Steve and Ruth had no children of their own, and Annie had no parents. They would love and cherish her, give her everything a lone man like him couldn’t.
His plan had been to catch the train to Houston then collect the wagon he had left there, no reason to do anything except make a few minor changes to his plan now. Once he got Annie to the McDonalds, he could stay for a couple of days to make sure she got settled, then head home.
Chapter Four
Matt awoke with a start to loud knocking on his door. He must have dozed off.
“Are you there, Mr. Brayshaw?”
“Coming.” He slid off the bed and stepped over to the door. On opening it, the breath caught in his throat. Mrs. Jones stood holding the hand of a little girl who had dark curls and the same blue eyes as Rachel.
“Delores’ sister dropped her off, safer that way. There you go child, meet your Uncle.”
Mrs. Jones placed a small, b
attered carpet bag inside the room. “Supper will be served in an hour.”
“Thank you.”
She hurried off, leaving him with Rachel’s daughter. The child’s eyes swam with tears and she was trembling.
He squatted down so he was on eye level with her. “Howdy, Annie, I’m your Uncle Matt.” He put out his hand and she backed away.
“I want my Ma.”
He swallowed a lump in his throat. “I know you do, darlin’, so do I, but you can’t. She’s in heaven now playing with the angels.”
He picked her up and carried her into the room, pushing the door shut with his foot. She was wearing a blue dress covered by a white pinafore.
He didn’t know what to do, what to say, so said the first thing that came into his head. Even if it was pretty stupid. “Um, er, which bed do you want, the big one or the little one.”
She didn’t answer.
“How about I take the big one and you have the small one because you’re littler than me.”
She nodded.
“Did your Ma ever talk about me?”
The child shook her head.
“Do you want to ask me anything?”
“No, I want Ma.”
“Oh, darlin’, I know you do.” He picked her up, sat in a chair and held her tight. She rested her cheek against his chest and sobbed.
Now what was he supposed to do? He only had experience caring for motherless calves and other baby critters, not a human one.
“Would you like to live on a ranch with cows and horses?”
“Chickens?”
“Yes, lots of chickens.”
“Ma lived on a ranch once.” She sniffed.
“Yes, your Ma lived on a ranch with me. Your Ma was so smart and she could ride a horse better than most men. Everyone loved her.” It wasn’t a lie, everyone who met Rachel fell under her spell. She didn’t have an enemy in the world until Roger’s enemies had turned out to be her enemies also.
“How about we go downstairs for supper?” He slid her off his knee, running distracted fingers through his hair as she stood silently staring up at him. Did she need to wash up? Fix her hair? He didn’t have the faintest idea, although she looked all right to him.
Lily Page 2