Unending Devotion (Michigan Brides #1)(76)

She’d hoped he’d changed, that he would want to keep on doing the right thing—fighting against injustice and evil. But instead, he’d fled back to Hell’s Waiting Room, ready to get back to business as usual.

Besides, even if he had a mind to fight against the problems, how could they possibly make a relationship work if they lived in two different places? She couldn’t move back to Harrison—or to any of the lumber towns—not with Daisy, not now after all that had happened with her.

“Maggie was always nice to me.” Daisy rolled onto her back and gazed at the ceiling, papered in a print that coordinated with the walls. “She was like a mother to many of us.”

Lily pushed herself up and sat against the tall headboard, the raised wood carvings pressing into her back. Mrs. McCormick was the kind of mother she’d always dreamed about—the sweet considerate mother their own would have been.

“Did you know a lot of the girls at the Stockade were orphans, Lily?” Daisy peered at her with wide trusting eyes.

Lily swept her fingers across her sister’s forehead and then down her cheek, tracing her beauty spot above the edge of her chin. For all the pain she felt over losing Connell, she couldn’t forget to count her blessings. She had Daisy back again. They were together. And they could start over building a new life.

It didn’t matter that Connell was gone. She didn’t have room for him in her life anyway. Not now that she had Daisy to take care of. They would be busy getting work and looking for a place to live.

“Most of the girls are really good girls at heart,” Daisy continued.

“I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for each of you to have to degrade yourself night after night.”

“It was hard at first.” Daisy’s voice grew faint, and pain flashed through her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Lily smoothed the fair cheek of the girl, wishing she could as easily wipe away the painful memories.

For a long moment, the crackle of the fire was the only sound in the cozy bedroom. The dark mahogany of the bureau and armoire, along with the thick draperies closed against the light of day, deepened the shadows of the room. The dim light from the lamp on the bedstead table reached out to touch the silver decorations around the room and made them glitter—the leaf-patterned edge of the pedestal mirror, the tall candelabras on the mantel, a tiny decorative box.

The room couldn’t even begin to compare to the cramped, barren bedrooms of the orphanages they’d lived in for so many years, with rows of beds made of sagging, urine-stained mattresses and rusting metal frames.

She didn’t doubt Mr. McCormick had worked hard over the years to accumulate his wealth and the beautiful possessions she’d seen in every room and hallway of the house. But at what cost? The destruction of thousands upon thousands of acres of prime forestland? The callousness to the vile way of living that had accompanied the devastation?

And now Connell had chosen to follow in the same footsteps as his father. Apparently the success of the business was more important than anything else—including her.

Pain swirled through her again, as it had since she’d left him in the front parlor hours ago. As the morning had passed, she’d finally given up hope he would barge through the bedroom door and tell her he’d changed his mind.

He was gone.

If there had ever been a whisper of anything between them, it was gone now too.

Daisy gave a long sigh and stared at the ceiling, as if gazing into her past.

“Why did you do it, Daisy?” The question slipped out before Lily could stop it. She didn’t want to scold the girl. And she didn’t want to make her feel any worse than she already did. But the question had nagged her all winter, and she wouldn’t be at peace until she knew why Daisy had sold herself, body and soul.

“I told you in the letter I sent you last fall.” Daisy flipped away from her.

Lily reached for a strand of the girl’s hair, but then hesitated. “I know you wanted to earn money so we could be together again. But why didn’t you come to me first before you ran away?”

She shrugged.

“I would have figured out some way for us to be with each other.”

Daisy was silent.

“We could have gotten factory jobs or we could have gone back to New York—or something. Anything besides . . . giving your innocence away.”

The idea of her sweet little sister lying with countless strange, dirty men made her stomach ache. The pounding fist of depression threatened to overwhelm her every time she allowed herself to think about it.

Daisy’s innocence was gone. And now she could never get it back.

“Oh, Daisy,” she whispered, wishing she could turn back time and keep her sister from making such an enormous mistake.

“I didn’t give my innocence away,” Daisy said sullenly, as though sensing the condemnation that Lily was trying so hard not to place upon her.

“It’s okay.” Lily combed the girl’s hair with her fingers, but Daisy stiffened under her touch and pulled away.

“Someone took it from me.”

Lily froze. Her heartbeat slowed like wagon wheels in slush, and her fingers became tangled in Daisy’s hair. “What do you mean?”

“The nice, normal, wonderful Mr. Wretcham? He wasn’t so nice after all.”

“What?” Dread crashed through Lily.