Unending Devotion (Michigan Brides #1)(36)

“When I learned she’d run away from the Wretchams, she ripped out the rest of my heart, and it hasn’t stopped bleeding since.”

No wonder she was so passionate about finding Daisy. “Why did she leave them?”

Lily shrugged. “From what I could tell the couple times I visited, they were taking good care of her. They had other children, and they made her feel welcome.”

“Sounds like it was a good family.”

Her face darkened and her eyes grew sad. “Since I never had a family of my own, I’m not very qualified to judge a family’s worth, am I?”

“Whatever happened, you can’t blame yourself—”

“I’ll blame myself until the day I die,” she said hotly. “I should have figured out a way to stay together.”

“But you couldn’t take care of her forever—”

“When I find her, I’ll never let her go again.” Her words rang with that fiery determination he was coming to admire. “I’m going to find a way to make a home for her the way she deserves.”

And just what was Lily planning to do? What kind of skill or training did she have that would enable her to support herself and her sister? He bit back the questions, not willing to be the one to discourage her or make her face reality. But the fact was, there wasn’t much a woman alone could do to earn a decent living except what Daisy was already doing—selling herself to men.

And he also wasn’t going to be the one to remind Lily it would take a miracle to find Daisy among the hundreds of illicit houses littering central Michigan.

Besides, what kind of life would Daisy be able to lead if she left prostitution? No decent man would ever want to marry her. And respectable society would shun her.

Daisy would be an outcast. And Lily would end up one by association.

As hard as it was to admit the truth, he had the feeling she was better off not finding the girl.





Chapter

11



The second night in the hut brought a new chill, an arctic wind that penetrated every crack and forced them closer to the fire.

The firelight flickered over Connell’s face, over the shadows of worry that he couldn’t hide.

From where she lay on the floor, Lily’s heart ached with the longing for him to gather her in his arms again.

But he’d done the honorable thing—he’d kept his distance. He’d shown her the utmost respect all day, as he’d promised he would. Without the slightest flicker of condemnation, he’d accepted her past, her homelessness, even her guilt over losing Daisy. He’d listened to her. She’d been able to bare her soul to him in a way she’d never been able to do with anyone else before.

Her admiration for him had only grown. As night crept in around them, she was certain she had never met a finer man than Connell McCormick.

“So Dad saved up every dollar he made working at lumber camps in Maine, and when he’d saved enough, he decided to come to Michigan.” Connell’s voice was soft. He’d stretched his long legs out in front of him and leaned against the wall. “He’d heard there was enough timber in Michigan to build a house for every grown man in America.”

A small part of her heart wanted to stay in the damp hovel forever—just the two of them.

But the other part of her knew the extreme danger of their situation. They were trapped. They’d eaten the last of the food. And there was no telling when a rescue party would be able start out or if they’d be able to find them.

“He started off as a land-looker for a mill owner downstate,” Connell continued. “But he was also a freelancer. So whenever he scouted out pine for the mill owner, he’d usually do a little buying on his own account.”

For once she didn’t have the energy or heart to argue with him about the destruction the lumber industry had caused. Instead, she watched the loose hairs that fell across his forehead and the way the firelight turned them to gold.

“One spring he located a fine stand of cork pine in the Saginaw Valley. But a rival lumberman was also looking at the same stand. Once my dad got the measurements and data he needed, he raced back to the nearest land office and registered his claim. The other agent showed up three hours later, but of course he was too late. My dad had won the race and established a small lumber camp there. Turned out to be a prime spot, the spot that turned him from a pauper into a very wealthy man.”

“Sounds like he was an ambitious man.”

Connell nodded. “And he’s still ambitious. Sometimes too ambitious.”

“Then you must take after him.”

Connell snorted. “My dad didn’t give me much choice. He’s always demanded much of my brother and me. He taught us to work hard, but sometimes I think he’s forgotten that we’re not in Ireland, we’re not in the middle of the potato famine, and we’re not starving to death.”

“I suppose he can’t forget his past.”

“Not when he had to watch every member of his family die of starvation in front of his eyes and not be able to do a single thing about it.”

“It’s hard when you want to be able to help your family and you can’t.” She knew that feeling all too well.

“They had nothing but dirt and grass to eat. He watched his three youngest siblings die in a corner of their shack, lying there because they were too weak to rise, their limbs emaciated, their bellies swollen, eyes sunken, voices gone. . . . After they died, he left.”