Unending Devotion (Michigan Brides #1)(57)

In the blackness of the early morning, the pale light from the tavern windows illuminated the barren, gnarled limbs. They reached toward her like claws of a devilish monster. She had no doubt they would snatch her and devour her if they could.

Every shadow, every dark moving shape was a demon. She’d heard the flap of their thin translucent wings. And she’d even seen the flash of fire in a pair of eyes.

She was sitting at the doorstep of hell itself. She’d braced herself for the pit, had told herself she was willing to enter hell for Daisy and to die if need be.

Even so, she couldn’t keep from wondering—was she doing the right thing?

The question had only grown louder with each passing hour, swirling through her blood, chilling it, making it sluggish, until dread had reached every vessel in her body.

Should she have waited to attempt the rescue with Connell and Stuart?

The open gate in the Stockade’s palisade whispered to her, urging her to slip back through it while no one was looking. She still had time to retreat down the hill to the safety of her room in the Northern. No one would have to know she’d gone.

She could wait for Saturday night as the men had planned.

“Get out of here, you good-for-nothing piece of scum!” The rear door of the tavern banged opened, and the shout shattered the eerie silence of the night.

One of the dogs in a pen on the opposite side of the yard began to bark.

Lily shrank against the trunk, trying to make herself invisible. The slight movement sent sharp pains into her cramped limbs and her frozen fingers and toes.

Though it was an early February night, the temperature still belonged to the deep freeze of winter. At least it had lost the arctic frigidness that had blown in with the last storm. The milder sleet and snow showers earlier that night had made the conditions perfect for an escape. Among all the other obstacles, they wouldn’t have to battle blizzard conditions or frostbite.

Yes, she was doing the right thing. The men’s plan had been foolhardy. If she’d gone along with it, she would have sent them to their deaths. She wouldn’t have been able to live with herself knowing she’d saved Daisy’s life at the expense of two brave, kindhearted men.

“You ain’t nothing but a worthless drunk!” the same voice bellowed.

Lily peeked around the edge of her hiding spot toward the back door in time to see one of Carr’s wide-shouldered bouncers carrying a shanty boy by his suspenders. The bouncer dug through first one pocket of the man’s pants and then the other, likely emptying them of every dollar the man owned.

Then the bouncer made his way across the yard that was covered with shattered bottles, broken chairs, and refuse Lily couldn’t begin to distinguish. When he reached the gate, he tossed the man outside the compound onto the rocky hill, discarding him like dirty dishwater.

The dog’s barking grew more persistent, and it lunged at the fence of its pen as if it would jump it in one bound if it could.

The bouncer muttered several profanities before closing the gate and turning toward the dog. “Aw, shut up and go back to sleep.”

He grabbed a chain hanging loosely from the gate, wrapped it through the nearest stake of the palisade, and locked it.

Lily allowed herself a breath of relief. Her wait was nearly over.

The clink of the metal chain signaled the end of tavern business for the night. It effectively blocked anyone from coming in or leaving the Stockade. The yard would finally be deserted enough for her to come out of hiding.

When the bouncer made his way back inside, Lily waited until the twang of the piano ceased and the last strains of bawdy laughter faded before she pushed herself up. She winced and hoped her numb feet would hold her weight.

She needed to make her move now or never.

From several other rescues she’d orchestrated that winter, she knew she had only a brief window of opportunity. She needed to act while the majority of men were still inebriated but before dawn brought them out of their beds to start another workday.

She quickly shed the buffalo-skin robe. Oren’s extra trousers hung like a tent from her waist over her thin legs. They were still stiff from the recent washing she’d given them, but her disguise in his clothing had worked. No one had paid attention to her entering the compound earlier.

With frozen fingers, she fumbled in her bag for her molasses cookies. She’d laced them with Vera’s sleeping medicine and prayed the trick would work.

Cautiously she made her way out from behind the tree, hefting her sack onto her shoulder. Only one of the hounds was awake, sniffing along the slats of the fence. When Lily moved, it lifted its head, ears perking and nostrils flaring.

Even on her tiptoes, in the crunch of the freshly fallen ice-snow mixture, her footsteps sounded as loud as a heavy team of oxen.

The dog lowered its mangy head and growled. The jowls pulled taut, revealing sharp fangs.

If the beast started barking again, she was afraid to think what might happen.

Her heart plummeted into a wild dash, and her feet moved just as quickly. She had to silence the beast before it alerted the bouncer to her presence.

In an instant, she was close enough to toss a couple of cookies into the pen. The dog’s growl faded, and it turned to inspect the food. Two more dogs crawled out of the shadowed doghouses and approached the cookies.

The first dog growled again, but this time as a warning for the newcomers to stay away.

Lily threw the remaining cookies toward the other two dogs. “Eat ’em up, boys.”