Unending Devotion (Michigan Brides #1)(35)

“You need to eat a little more,” he urged, kneeling next to her.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Bet you’d eat it if it were a cookie.”

She managed a small smile. “Probably.”

Worry gurgled with the acid in his stomach. She’d grown pale and listless as the day had worn on.

“You eat it,” she said.

“No,” he insisted, holding it out to her.

He’d taken Oren’s rifle with him during one of his forays for firewood. But he hadn’t figured on finding any game. With the intensity of the storm, every living creature was holed up, safe and warm where it belonged—unlike them.

Still, his stomach would have thanked him for a hare or even a squirrel.

Lily finally took the brown, shriveled piece of apple. “You need it more than I do. And you shouldn’t have to suffer for my mistake.”

“My mam taught me to take care of a woman’s needs above my own.”

Her lips formed into another protest.

“Besides, I wanted to help you,” he said. “I made the decision to come out here of my own free will.”

Her words died away, and she searched his face, as if trying to understand why he’d risked his life for her. But he couldn’t find an answer for her any more than he could for himself.

What was it about her that made him rush headlong into doing things he normally wouldn’t consider?

Certainly not just because she was an attractive woman.

He glanced at her lips, and his gut heated with the memory of lying next to her and how much he’d wanted to kiss her. He tore his gaze away. He couldn’t let his mind dwell on the intimacy. He’d already had a hard enough time wrenching himself away from her earlier. If he let himself think of how soft and warm she’d been in his arms, he’d only feed his appetite for her—an appetite that didn’t need any more fuel.

He reached for another log he’d split and tossed it onto the fire. Sparks flared into the air, crackling with power. If he wasn’t careful, he could easily let the sparks he’d felt with Lily turn into out-of-control flames.

She situated herself on the blanket and took a nibble of the apple. “It sounds like you had a wonderful mother.”

He nodded and sat back, putting a safe distance between himself and the temptation to pull her into his arms. “My mam is about as sweet as they come.” The complete opposite of Dad.

“Tell me about her,” Lily said wistfully.

“She probably would have joined a convent if she hadn’t met my dad. But Dad was fresh off the boat and starving, like most of the other poor Irish immigrants fleeing from the potato famine. She took pity on him and helped nurse him back to health. And, of course, he convinced her to marry him.”

Sometimes he wondered if she would have been happier at a convent.

Lily didn’t say anything and instead watched his face.

“What about you?” he asked, ready to take the focus off himself and his parents. “What kind of mom did you have?”

She hesitated. Her hair was unraveled and lay in a glorious display of long dark curls around her face.

The muscles in his hands tensed with the need to thread his fingers through the thick locks. Instead he grabbed his ax and poked the fire, sending more sparks flying.

“I don’t remember much about my mother,” she said.

He stared at the flames, trying to keep a rein on his thoughts about Lily.

“She died giving birth to Daisy.” Her voice dipped.

“I’m sorry.” He stilled and glanced at her again.

Her forehead crinkled above eyes that radiated pain. “My father couldn’t take care of us, and for a few years we were shuffled between relatives. Until he got into an accident at work and died within a few days.”

An ache wound around his heart.

“After that, no one wanted us anymore. I suppose without the money my father had provided them, they couldn’t afford to take care of two more children—not when they struggled enough without us. So they dropped us off at the New York Foundling Hospital.”

She paused, and he didn’t say anything, although part of him wished he could curse the family that gave up two girls with such ease.

“We lived at the hospital in New York City until there was no longer room for us. Then we moved to other orphanages.” She turned to look at the fire, embarrassment reflected in her face. “I made sure they never separated Daisy and me. I kept us together all those years, no matter where we were. And finally we had the option of moving here to Michigan. They said families needed boys and girls. We’d get to live in real homes.”

The grip on his heart cinched tighter.

“When we got here, I thought I was doing the best thing for Daisy by giving her a real family to live with. The Wretchams seemed nice. They lived on a big farm. Needed some extra help—”

“So you and Daisy didn’t stay together?”

“There weren’t any families needing two almost-grown girls. But I consoled myself that it was only temporary, that we’d only be apart until I could find a good job and a place for us to live.”

“That must have been hard on both of you.”

“Letting her go was like ripping out a piece of my heart.”

He wanted to reach for her, pull her into his arms, and comfort her. But everything within him warned him against even a move as innocent as that.