Beneath the Apple Leaves(103)

He pulled her cold hand into his and it was without life, lay limp in his warm palm. “You’re not making any sense.”

The fight was gone. The tears were drying in clear lines and leaving pink edges along her soft face. Her eyes were sleepy and listless as she stared through him. “I didn’t want to do it. Be with that man. I swear to God, I didn’t want to do it.”

Andrew remembered the smug face of Dan Simpson. “Dan made you do this?”

“Dan?” She looked disoriented. “I haven’t seen Dan since I hit him with that rock. This has nothing to do with Dan.”

They stared at each other for a long while until Lily shook her head, long and low. “Don’t you see?”

“No.”

She started to cry again like he was hurting her, pinching her skin. “I gave my body to a man, Andrew.” Lily’s mouth stayed open with the sound. “I’m no more than a whore. It didn’t matter that I tried not to, that I fought and I cried. I did it.”

Suddenly, Lily’s face froze and her eyes went blank. “I didn’t want to do it.” The words siphoned of life, the tones muted. “Frank made me. Told me I had to do it. He was in a bad way. Got in a heap a debt from his gambling. Told me I had to clean it up. Said he’d make Claire do it if I didn’t. Said he’d beat her raw, if I didn’t do it.”

Her voice quieted and she spoke to herself. “I couldn’t let Claire get hurt. I couldn’t. She protected me all her life.”

Her hazel eyes turned to him, glistening green pools with emerald depths. She placed her hands gently on her belly. “And now, I got a little one.” Her chin dimpled. “Got this little one to take care of. It isn’t her fault, being made the way she was.”

The young woman smiled now, a sad, rueful smile that cracked with sorrow. “I’m no good, Andrew. Never was. I’m sorry I hurt you. But you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re like an angel and I had no right bringing blackness to you and your family.”

She looked at him, her face so soft and tender in open despair. “Now you see. You see why I wasn’t good enough for you. That day we were going to be together I wanted nothing more in the whole world, but I kept seeing what I had done, how I had no right being with you after what I did with that man. How you deserved somebody smart and beautiful like those girls that always come to church with their white dresses and pretty shoes.

“At least you know now. You can go and move on and not give me a second thought. You can marry one of those pretty girls and pretend I was just a bad dream from long ago. And . . . I hope you’ll be happy,” she said in a soft voice. She pulled herself up, cradled her growing baby and looked toward the steel door of the restaurant. “I’m sorry I brought you pain. I—I just want you to have the very best in life. It’s what you deserve.”

Lily turned. The smoke from the crusted chimney swirled and blended with the poisoned sky, a mingling of grays that suffocated the forgotten blue. She stepped away from Andrew toward the clanging, filthy building, her body pulling without a fight.

The fire burned again. Not the flames that rippled through his arm to cut down the tree but a power just as strong, a white fury of knowing that flashed through the chest and under the skin.

Lily reached for the door of the kitchen.

“Lily.”

She squeezed her eyes closed and turned the handle.

The knowing thrust him forward and then he was beside her. The sky was clean again, the air fresh, and the decision beamed bright enough to wash away the grime of all that came before. Andrew grabbed her arm, cupped her limp hand in his large palm. “Marry me.”

She bent her neck in defeat. “Please,” she begged plaintively. “Don’t be cruel. I’m sorry and maybe you got every right to be cruel, but please don’t tease me like that.”

“Marry me, Lily.” He pulled her against his chest and smiled into her hair, held on to the thin shoulders with all his might. “My God, Lily, don’t you see I love you? None of this was your doing. None of this was your fault. You didn’t have any more choice in this than that baby did.”

“No.” She pushed at him. “You’re not thinking straight—” But her words were cut short by his lips. And he kissed her between smiles because he had been wrong, because it had never been him, and then he kissed her nose and her forehead gently, worked to erase the suffering she had endured. And the hope rushed, flooded in an eddy, and he kissed her until she giggled with disbelief.

He stopped abruptly and put his palm against her cheek, his forehead against hers. He fumbled with the ring in his pocket and slid it on her finger. “Marry me, Lily. Come back to the farm with me and we’ll raise this baby together. Claire can come, too. You’ll be safe. I swear I’ll never let anything happen to you; I’ll protect you all. I swear it.”

“But what about what I did? What about—”

“None of it matters. None of it.”

“We can’t go back. If Frank finds out, there’s no telling what he’ll do. He’d have you thrown into jail or worse. Make up something awful just to make you pay.”

“We’ll figure it out. You’ll be safe. You have my word.” He kissed her again. “I love you, Lily. Say you’ll marry me.”