Unending Devotion (Michigan Brides #1)(2)
“You’re going to be just fine now.” She gave the girl the same smile and reassurance she used to give her sister on the many dark and lonesome nights when it had been just the two of them, when she’d been the only one to comb the tangles from Daisy’s hair, hold her tight, and wipe the tears off her cheeks. She’d had to be both mother and father for as long as she could remember.
The ache in her heart squeezed painfully. Who was wiping Daisy’s tears now?
A gust of frigid air slipped under Lily’s collar and slithered down her back. She shivered and drew her coat tighter. But the cold tentacles of guilt gripped her insides and wouldn’t let go.
How could she have let this happen? It had always been her job to protect her little sister and to make sure she was safe and happy. How could she have failed so horribly?
Lily climbed into the open sleigh and tucked the blanket under Edith’s quivering chin. She grazed the girl’s cheek. “It’s all over now.”
The girl nodded, but her focus darted to the open window of the hotel, where the edge of a tattered curtain blew through the opening like a crooked finger beckoning Edith to return.
“By the time the cookee blows the nooning horn,” Lily said softly, “you’ll be settled safe and warm in your new home.”
Home . . .
Tight anguish pushed up Lily’s throat.
If only someone had rescued her and Daisy long ago . . . and if only she and Daisy could have had a real home . . . and a real family . . . then maybe Daisy wouldn’t have had to run away.
Lily ducked her head to hide the sudden pool of tears that the bitter January air had already turned cold.
The slam of a door somewhere down the street echoed in the hollowness of dawn, and she quickly wedged herself into the tight space left on the seat.
“We best be going.” She kept her gaze straight ahead.
Oren grunted. “Now that I’m packed in here like a dill pickle in a pill bottle, I won’t be needing this.” Before Lily could protest, he shoved aside his buffalo robe and tossed it toward her.
She caught the heavy fur, and a waft of sweet tobacco enveloped her. Of course Oren wasn’t smoking his corncob pipe at such an ungodly early hour of the morning, but once the sun rose above the tips of the white pines, the older man was rarely without it.
“You’ll be needing the blanket soon enough.” Lily pushed the robe back his way. Just because she’d covered Edith with hers didn’t mean she expected Oren to suffer.
Oren ignored her outstretched arm and picked up the reins. “I’ve got more blubber than a bear in hibernation.”
“This was my doing, and I’ll bear the responsibility.” She held her outstretched arm rigid.
He flicked the reins at his team and the cutter lurched forward. “If anyone’s going to need the warmth this morning, it’s you two bean poles. Especially now that I’ll have to go out of my way to drop your new friend off at Molly May’s.”
Lily sat back and tugged the robe across her lap. A smile tickled the corners of her lips. Even though he’d grumbled like usual, she’d known he would help. He always did.
Oren caught her gaze above Edith’s head. His eyes shone with admiration. And something else, gentler. He might never say the words, but Lily knew he understood her agony and would do anything in the world to help her.
“Thank you,” she mouthed.
“Oh, don’t thank me,” he muttered. “I’ll be making you work your hind end off at the next place to make up for this here delay.”
“I always work hard. And you know it. Besides, if it weren’t for me dragging those shanty boys over to the camera, you wouldn’t have half as many customers.”
He just snorted.
This time her smile broke free. She might not have a real family, but she had a good friend. And she couldn’t forget to thank the Lord for that.
And she couldn’t forget to thank the Lord that he’d helped her save another poor young girl. If He’d made it His mission to save lost sinners while on earth, then certainly she could do no less with her life. Besides, if she could steal Edith away, then she couldn’t give up hope that someday, somehow, she’d find her sister too.
She’d rescue her or die trying.
Lily tramped up the plank step of the hotel and read the bold capital letters painted above the door: Northern Hotel Est. 1881. Out of four hotels in Harrison, the Northern was the only one with temperance leanings. She prayed there would be rooms available.
She refused to stay in any establishment that was “wet.” She’d just as soon set up a tent and sleep in the woods before she supported the drinking and carousing that too many of the lumber-town hotels offered. Even if that meant she’d have to freeze to death or face a pack of wolves.
Of course she was more than ready to get out of the sub-freezing temperature. After traveling most of the day from Midland, where they’d left Edith in the capable hands of Molly May and her home for young girls, Lily was stiffer and colder than one of the long icicles hanging from the slanted eaves above her head.
With a determined set of her shoulders, she pushed the door open. A whoosh of warmth greeted her, along with the thick odor of woodsmoke and overcooked beans.
A gush of wind swept into the room with her before she wrangled the door closed. She swiped off her hood and used her teeth to tug snow-crusted mittens from her numb fingers. She stuffed the mittens into her coat pocket, and only then did she realize how silent the room had grown.