Unending Devotion (Michigan Brides #1)(59)

Had someone heard them?

Every muscle in her body tensed.

When Daisy finally tossed the rope back out the window and began the awkward descent, Lily silently motioned her to move faster.

In a thin nightshift, Daisy shuddered with the cold, hardly able to grip the rope. Her garment crept higher, revealing the glowing nakedness of her flesh beneath.

“Jump,” Lily whispered once the girl was close enough. “I’ll catch you.”

Daisy let go and slid down the rest of the distance, her bare feet landing in the snow. Lily’s arms enveloped the girl, bracing her fall and capturing her in a fierce hug, an embrace full of all the sorrow and pain of the long months of searching.

It was finally over.

Her throat closed with an overwhelming need to cry. “Oh, Daisy,” she managed, breathing deeply of the girl’s hair, rubbing her nose into the loose curls, remembering all the times she’d done the same thing when Daisy had been a little girl.

Daisy’s arms wrapped around her in a fierce hold, and she buried her face against Lily’s coat. “I didn’t think you’d ever come.”

At the agony in Daisy’s voice, Lily just hugged her tighter and pressed a kiss against the soft strands of her hair. Tears spilled over and made a frozen trail down her cheeks. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” The cold wetness of Daisy’s tears mingled with Lily’s.

She wanted to stop time and hold Daisy forever. Now that she had her, she didn’t want to release her. She squeezed her sister harder, and Daisy clung to her as if she would never let go again either.

But the spit of fresh sleet against her face and the shudder of Daisy’s thin body urged her into action. She pulled Daisy to arm’s length and in one quick glance took in the girl’s condition. Through the dim glow of light coming from the back of the tavern, Lily could see that her sister was as healthy as always and had apparently been well taken care of.

Only the bright fear glowing in her wide eyes testified to the nightmare she had lived through the past months. And the fact that she was standing before Lily practically naked, wearing a nightgown that dipped revealingly low and hardly reached mid-thigh.

“Quick, put this on.” Lily shrugged out of her coat and draped it across Daisy’s shoulders. Then she wrestled through her bag to find the extra boots she’d packed.

In a matter of seconds, Daisy was dressed sufficiently—at least enough to protect her from the winter temperatures for a short time.

Lily reached for her again, needing to hug her, needing to know her sister really was standing in front of her and that she wasn’t just dreaming. But a light flickered in one of the upstairs windows, and the curtain swayed.

Had someone noticed Daisy’s disappearance already?

“Come on.” Lily grabbed the girl’s hand and tugged her forward. They couldn’t waste any time. Every second counted.

Daisy gripped her and squeezed hard, but resisted the pull.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve missed you, Lily,” she said in a broken whisper.

The ache in Lily’s throat threatened to choke her with the pressure. She wanted to hold Daisy and tell her everything would be all right. She wanted to wipe away all the worries, all the horrible memories, and whisper that from now on they’d be together, that never again would she let anything or anyone split them apart.

But that would have to wait for the days to come, when they’d have plenty of time to talk. For now, she had to get Daisy out of the Stockade before anyone noticed them.

“I’ve missed you too.” She brushed her sister’s cheek, ready to cry all over again at the relief of finally seeing Daisy, of touching her, of knowing she was safe.

A long screech rent the air.

Lily’s heart crashed against her ribs. “We’d best be going. We need to get out of here.” They weren’t safe yet. Not until they made it to the other side of the wall and down Dead Man’s Hill.

She dragged Daisy along, leading her back around the building the same way she’d come. They crept low. And when they reached the back of the compound, Lily stopped and searched the dog pen.

The beasts were nowhere in sight. Had the sleeping potion worked?

She swallowed her fear. The only way to find out was to cross the yard to the gate. If the dogs were awake, they’d know soon enough.

“Run,” she whispered to Daisy.

They bolted through the refuse. The sleet pattered louder, thankfully drowning the slap of their footsteps. Lily slowed down only long enough to grab a broken bar stool. Even with a missing leg, it would still be enough to boost them over the gate.

With pounding heart, she reached the gate, the only part of the palisade without the sharp points, and the only place low enough for them to attempt to cross over. Daisy fell against the wood slats next to her, her chest heaving. Lily flattened herself and pushed a hand against Daisy, warning her not to move.

For a long moment, they stood as silent as the empty broken bottles that were half covered with dirty snow.

The dogs didn’t stir. And the tavern sat too quietly, the first-floor barroom windows still alight from the glow of a lantern or two within.

Had they really made it this far undetected?

Lily shoved the stool against the gate. “Climb up and I’ll help you over.”