Unending Devotion (Michigan Brides #1)(65)

She grew quiet. “I don’t think I really know what normal is.”

His own thoughts turned sober. What would she do now that she had Daisy? What kind of life could she possibly make for herself and the girl?

They rode in silence, the chill of the night slithering around his feet and legs, sending a shiver over his skin.

“Have you ever thought about having a normal life, Connell?” she finally asked.

“With all your dangerous rescues, mine seems tame compared to yours.”

“No. I mean a real life. Away from the lumber camps.”

A real life? What was real anyway? A big home with a wife and a baby and a job as the supervisor over his father’s sawmill like Tierney? Was that real? That could have been his life—would have been his—if Tierney hadn’t stolen it all away from him.

Instead, he lived with Stuart Golden in a cluttered house, ate his meals at a hotel, and had nothing to show for his work. He calculated numbers day after day, always with the stress of trying to make those figures add up to something bigger.

But deep inside he knew it was a losing battle. Eventually McCormick Lumber would cut down every profitable pine and be forced to move on. The hunger for more would never really be satisfied, and he would always have to race to find more fuel to feed that insatiable appetite.

“What would you do if you didn’t work in the lumber camps?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Lumbering is all I’ve ever known.”

“Didn’t you ever want to do anything else?”

“It’s never been about what I wanted. It’s always been about the business. McCormick Lumber. And what’s best for the company.”

“You’ve never really thought about doing anything else?”

Had he? He honestly couldn’t remember that he’d ever had one thought about pursuing any other ambition except the lumber business. From his earliest memories, Dad had drilled into him the importance of succeeding, of working hard, of doing his part. And he knew Dad was counting on him or Tierney to someday take over the business.

“There has to be something else you’d like to do besides lumbering,” she persisted. “Something you’ve secretly dreamed of doing.”

He shook his head. “In a family like mine, the only dreams that matter are those of my dad.”

Daisy stirred.

Lily pulled her hand back into her lap, leaving him wishing he could hang on to her and her passion for life just a fraction longer.

“Maybe it’s time for you to start making your own plans and having your own dreams,” she said softly.

Daisy pushed herself up from her resting place against Lily’s shoulder. “I’m so cold and hungry.”

Lily lifted the blanket off her lap, shifted it onto Daisy’s, and tucked it around the girl.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so cold in my life.”

“We’re almost there.” Lily lifted her sister’s feet back onto the warming box.

“And I’ve got a horrible headache.”

Connell clamped his lips together to keep from saying anything. The girl’s complaining had worsened as the day had progressed. She was likely experiencing alcohol withdrawal. From what he’d heard, most prostitutes drank heavily. Some even drank themselves to death.

Even so, his frustration had mounted with each passing mile. The girl obviously took Lily for granted and expected her to take care of her every whim—and probably always had.

“Where are we going?” Daisy asked as Lily tucked her under the crook of her arm like a little girl.

“We’re in West Bay City,” Connell said. They were no longer passing the small farmhouses that dotted the countryside but had entered the residential neighborhoods of the western side of town.

Through the darkness of the evening, the lamplight from the windows of many new houses cast a glow on the snow-covered dirt road. Most of the houses were simple two-story structures made of scrap lumber. Brightly painted, they sat close to the streets and belonged to immigrants—Germans, Poles, French Canadians—who provided cheap labor to the many mills, lumberyards, and factories along the river, including McCormick Lumber Company.

Every time he returned, the city sprawled larger. No longer was business confined to the Saginaw River waterfront and Lower Bay City on the east side. Industry was booming everywhere—restaurants, hotels, clothing stores, boardinghouses, churches, new schools.

As the lumber industry had expanded, so had the city. The problem was that eventually Michigan was going to run out of white pine, and when it did, what would happen to the city that had relied upon the logs for its life?

“And where exactly are you planning to take us?” Daisy’s voice was irritable, as if she needed someone to blame for her misery and decided Connell should be the scapegoat.

Only then did he realize Lily had never once asked him where they were going. She trusted him. Believed in him. Had utterly and completely placed her life in his hands.

The thought frightened him and made him marvel at the same time. When he glanced across Daisy’s head and met Lily’s gaze, her brows lifted, no doubt waiting to hear the answer to the question.

“I’m taking you home,” he said.

Her brows arched higher.

“You’ll be safe there.” And if she were in his house, she’d still be very much a part of his life. Maybe then she’d forget her idea of taking Daisy someplace far away. Maybe she’d like his home. Maybe she’d stay.