Unending Devotion (Michigan Brides #1)(89)

They’d spent the last few evenings trying to clean up the newspaper office and salvage what they could. They were fortunate that amidst the destruction, the printing press hadn’t been damaged too badly.

“At least you have enough witnesses that Carr can’t accuse you of libel.”

“I’m sure he’ll try, but what harm will it do me now?” He grinned, but Connell could see past the false bravado to the fear flitting in Stuart’s eyes.

“He could break a lot more than your arm this time.”

“I can’t back down now—not when I’ve been looking for a way to frame him for his crimes. I thought I could nail him on the jail fire. But murder is even better.”

They would do all they could. But would it ever be enough?

Stuart rubbed his broken arm, as if thinking the same thing. Then he sighed. “I’d hate to be the one to tell Lily the news about Frankie.”

A fresh wave of weariness washed over Connell. “I’d hate to be the one too.” But he had a feeling he would have to break the news to her eventually.

She was going to be devastated.

And would likely despise him all the more.



Lily didn’t want to leave Daisy alone for any length of time while she went looking for a job. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her sister, she told herself. It was that she didn’t trust Tierney.

Even though he’d stayed away the rest of the week—or at least she thought he had—she had the feeling it was only a matter of time before he came back and tried to ensnare Daisy again.

Lily wanted to make sure they were long gone before that happened.

With a pattering heart, she stopped on the second-floor landing and listened, every nerve in her body alert for the sound of the two of them together.

For a second she imagined she heard Daisy’s soft laugh of pleasure, and the unbidden picture of her sister’s passion filled her mind.

Lily couldn’t keep from thinking about the pleasure she’d found in the brief moments of closeness with Connell. Warmth spread through her stomach.

She shoved it aside, the shards of embarrassment and guilt slicing through her.

Who was she to condemn Daisy for taking pleasure in Tierney’s touch when she’d relished each instance with Connell and longed for more?

She didn’t want to admit she was a hypocrite. After all, she hadn’t allowed Connell to ravish her so intimately. They’d kept their distance even though the attraction had been strong between them. She liked to think she would have stopped him if he’d wanted more from her when they’d been stranded alone during the snowstorm.

But the truth was, her curiosity and longing always made her lose reason when she was with him. His strong commitment to purity had kept them both from indulging in intimacies they would have later regretted.

Through the dumbwaiter in the wall of the hallway, she could hear Mrs. McCormick speaking to the maid in the kitchen on the ground floor. Other than the rapid thump of her own heartbeat, she couldn’t hear anything else. The house was silent.

She bounded up the steps the rest of the way to the third floor. All the way she tried to tell herself she was different from Daisy, that she was strong and pure and virtuous. But with each step, she couldn’t keep from thinking the line that separated her from Daisy was much thinner than she cared to acknowledge.

At the doorway to their room she paused. Hopefully, they’d have their own place soon, away from the McCormicks. They could both start fresh. Tierney wouldn’t be a temptation for Daisy, and Connell wouldn’t be one for her. She’d never see him again.

With a long sigh, she tried to breathe out the disappointment that came whenever she thought of Connell and how much she missed him.

“Daisy?” she said softly, opening the door. “What if we moved to Saginaw?”

Lily stepped over the girl’s untouched lunch tray, still on the floor where the maid had left it.

“I’m not having any luck finding work here. And I heard someone say there are more factories in Saginaw.”

She wouldn’t tell Daisy what else she’d heard—that there weren’t many jobs available for single women. In fact, everywhere she’d gone, she’d been told the saloons were hiring pretty waiter girls. She’d have no problem locating work down on Water Street.

But she knew most of the time “waiter girl” was just another term for prostitute. And she knew as well as any other decent citizen that Water Street was “Hell’s Half Mile.” She’d heard the rumors of the catacombs, a winding labyrinth of rooms and tunnels that existed in the bowels underneath the saloons and hotels. Just the reference to the crimes and illicit activities that took place within the dark, damp hallways was enough to make Lily’s skin crawl.

She couldn’t—absolutely wouldn’t—take Daisy into such an environment, not even if they became desperate.

“What do you think?” she asked, dodging the piles of discarded clothes on the floor and making her way to the window. “We could start fresh in Saginaw, where no one will know us or anything about the past year.”

She yanked open the curtains, letting daylight into the room. She hadn’t given up hope—she wouldn’t give up hope—that everything would work out for her and Daisy.

“Come on. Time to get up, sleepyhead.” She turned toward the bed, and even before the words were completely out, fear pricked the back of her neck.