Unending Devotion (Michigan Brides #1)(8)
Thankfully, with Oren scaring all the men away, she hadn’t had to worry about anyone showing ongoing interest in her.
Anyway, what kind of man would be interested in her, a poor orphaned girl with no family, no money, and nothing to bring to a marriage except herself?
Connell barely lifted his eyes, as if trying to peek at her without her knowledge, and for an eternity of a second their gazes caught.
A spark lit his eyes, almost as if he were remembering their encounter of the previous evening and the draping of dirty socks they’d both worn.
An odd flush of pleasure wrapped around her middle, and she wanted to smile at the memory of how silly they’d both looked. But she shifted her gaze to the bare walls and drummed her fingers against the table. This time it was her turn to pretend nothing had transpired between them.
“Here you are.” Vera ambled back into the room holding a pannikin in one hand and a coffeepot in the other. She dropped the pint-sized tin cup to the table, and inside was the promised doughnut.
Lily lifted out the doughnut before Vera poured a thick brew of coffee into the pannikin.
“You’re a dear.” Lily lifted the cup, and out of habit she blew on the steaming liquid.
“Don’t you worry none.” Vera bustled toward Connell, sliding another doughnut out of her apron pocket. “I’ve got an extra for you too.”
Connell reached for the doughnut, but Vera pulled it back and held it out of reach. She pointed to her ruddy cheek. “You know what you owe me first.”
To Lily’s surprise, Connell grinned, leaned toward the older woman, and planted a kiss in the spot she’d touched.
Vera handed him the doughnut and then gave the round flesh in his cheek a pinch. “You’re a good boy, Connell.”
Lily smiled at Vera’s compliment. Connell was definitely no boy. His shirt stretched across his shoulders and around his thick arms. He had the rugged build of a man accustomed to cutting and hauling heavy logs. He might have earned the nickname of shanty boy, like all the other men who came north to work in the woods, but he was all man as far as she could see.
She took a sip of her coffee, only to find it was gritty and strong enough to choke a horse. She nearly dropped the pannikin on the table and couldn’t keep from sputtering into her hand.
One of Connell’s eyebrows shot up and his grin turned lopsided, as if he knew from personal experience just how awful the coffee was.
She swallowed the bitter mouthful and smiled back—a secret smile that gave her a strange sense that maybe this man had the potential to be a friend.
“Mrs. Heller sure does make the best doughnuts this side of the Tittabawasee River.” He took a bite, easily chomping half the circle.
“You’re only getting one from me this morning.” Vera wagged her finger at him. “And no amount of flattery will get you more.”
He shrugged at Lily, still grinning. “Doesn’t hurt to try, does it?”
Vera pulled out the bench across from Lily, and her eyes danced from Connell’s compliment. She sidled in, bumping the table and causing coffee to slosh out of Lily’s cup.
Maybe with enough jostling, Vera would spill more and save her from having to drink it.
When she met Connell’s gaze, his eyebrow quirked again.
Lily nibbled on her doughnut and tried to stifle a smile.
Vera fished another doughnut out of her pocket, brushed off a stray potato peel, and then took a big bite—a bite that rivaled Connell’s.
“So tell me about yourself,” she said with her mouth full. Her dark hair, threaded with gray, framed her splotchy face in a frizzy disarray. The woman had likely been up since the wee hours of the morning and had already put in a full day’s worth of work. “Tell me where you’re from. And all that good stuff.”
Lily set her doughnut on the table. Where should she begin? How could she go about explaining the complexity of her past? And did Vera really care to know?
She looked into the woman’s eyes and read genuine kindness there.
“Well . . .” Lily hesitated and then opted to give the abbreviated version of her life history. “We came up from Bay City. Oren has a photography studio there.”
Vera stuffed the rest of the doughnut into her mouth and nodded at Lily to continue.
“He does good business during the winter months traveling around the camps taking pictures of shanty boys.”
“And?”
“And I help him.”
Vera brushed the crumbs off her hands and then folded them in front of her. “And . . . ?”
Lily smiled. She’d been right. She was going to like this woman. “And I’m trying to find my sister.”
Vera swallowed the last bite of doughnut but didn’t say anything.
“In her final letter to me she said she was heading north to the new lumber towns to look for work.”
“Work?” Vera’s eyes turned grave.
The ache in Lily’s heart flared to life. “She told me it wouldn’t be the kind of work I’d approve of. But apparently she’d heard girls could make a fortune during one winter season.”
Vera shook her head and pursed her lips.
“She wrote that she wanted to earn money so we could afford a place for the two of us to be together again.” Lily pressed the ball of her hand into her stomach to stave off the pain.