Wild Lilly (24 page)

He whistled and fingered the thick envelope before sliding it into his vest. “That’s a lot for one hit. Who is the sinner that needs judgment?”

“Well, this is not exactly what you’re used to. I know you’ve been complaining about how easy your jobs have been.”

“Out with it, man. I don’t have all day.”

Both men waited until a rather drunk sailor ordered his beer and left the bar. Cìarán sucked on the end of the cigar and stared at the sailor’s retreating back with dead eyes.

“You need to kidnap a young woman, and bring her back to Kansas. She’ll be visiting her family in Hartford in a few days. I want you to go there and watch her. Grab her if you have the chance. If you can’t get her there, she’ll be coming to Boston next. After you get her, you’ll need to help your client convince her to sell him her land. The transaction has to be all proper and legal.”

“I don’t kill women.”

Thomas fluttered a chubby hand at him. “I didn’t say kill her. I said kidnap her. You work the job out however you want, but she has to sign that land over. I owe my friend in Kansas for taking care of a problem for me, and now he’s calling in the favor.”

Cìarán ground out the end of his cigar into the cut-glass ashtray. “Interesting. Who is she and where will she be?”

Thomas toyed with the thick gold chain of his watch. “Lilly Brooks, a young lady from Hartford who inherited some land in Kansas. She will be at Lady Catherine Sutherland’s mansion in Boston.”

Cìarán let out a low whistle. “So this isn’t any random cherry. She has some powerful friends.”

Thomas took a deep breath and his gaze skittered nervously back to Cìarán’s face. “There’s another woman coming to help you.” Silence met this statement and he rushed onwards. “She knows the fiancé of this target and will help you find her.”

“I work alone.” He offered the words as a statement, in a low and cold voice.

Pale patches showed beneath the red of Thomas’s cheeks. For a moment, Cìarán was afraid he had scared the man into a heart attack. “Don’t worry. My friend said the woman coming out to help you is a professional. She won’t be in your way.”

The thought intrigued him. He had met one or two mercenaries of the fairer sex in his time, and each had been as tough as nails and ugly as sin. What kind of woman would be coming from the frontier? His lips twitched in a grin. She probably had fewer teeth than toes and a mustache thick enough to comb.

At the very least he could use her for reconnaissance, and if she proved stupid as well as ugly, he’d just restrict her to the hotel.

Thomas took another gulp of his beer. “Will you do the job?” His fat fingers did a nervous dance over the scarred surface of the bar.

Cìarán stroked a hand over his mustache. He was getting bored with the coast, and New York held too many harsh memories. The assassinations he’d completed lately did nothing for him. He was a man who lived for the thrill of the hunt, and boredom was akin to death.

“I will. Any ground rules?”

“Yes. You cannot violate the girl or hurt her too badly. Remember, she has to willingly sign over the land. Or at least put on a good enough act in public for the courthouse to buy her decision. You’ll need to convince her, but that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I am no despoiler of women. You know that. And I always found charm works better with women than slapping them around.” Cìarán’s lips lifted in a half smile at Thomas, who tried to suppress a shiver. The smile fell from Cìarán’s lips and his cold eyes made Thomas shift his bulk nervously on the chair.

***

Lilly tried to stop fidgeting with the cranberry-red ribbons on her cream blouse, but words wouldn’t stop spilling out of her mouth in a nervous torrent. “Over there is the park we used to go riding in on Sundays. They have the loveliest rose garden in the summer. And that’s the street that leads to where my best friend used to live. See that lamppost? My sister Gretchen ran into it while she was ogling a boy. Gave herself a nice black eye right before Easter. My mother was furious!”

Both men looked where she pointed but neither spoke. Sleeping Bear hadn’t said much during their trip. She thought his silence was mostly likely because he was building up his walls. Everywhere they went, people gave him a double-take.

Not only was he an Indian, but his large size made him stand out in any crowd. Right now, he was dressed in a double-breasted black suit, and his long hair fell over his shoulders beneath his cream-colored Stetson with its rough band of blue turquoise. His exotic good looks also attracted a good deal of surreptitious female attention. Sleeping Bear ignored the fluttering eyelashes of women the same way he ignored the narrow-eyed stares of the men.

Paul watched her in amusement as she worked off some steam with her chatter. The warmth of his love was the only thing keeping her from coming completely unglued. He added a word every now and then, which would just set her off on another tangent. Paul wore a tan cowboy hat and the dark blue suit fit his athletic body like a glove. He had grumbled when Lilly insisted he put his guns in the trunk, but complied after a good kiss.

“And there’s my parents’ house,” she pointed out, her voice cracking into a peep at the end. She tucked a stray curl into the matching cranberry red bonnet adorned with small, white silk flowers.

“Amazing,” Paul said in a low voice. “You can stare down a group of tribal elders, but the thought of your mother reduces you to a squeaking mouse.”

Sleeping Bear laughed from the other side of the carriage, and Lilly stuck out her tongue at both of them. “Just wait. You’ll see,” she promised in a mournful tone.

They pulled in front of the elegant three-story cream-colored townhouse, followed by the wagon with their luggage. In addition to Lilly’s trunk, there was the trunk full of Indian goods and Paul’s smaller trunk.

She exited the carriage with an impatient jump and shifted back and forth on her boot heels. Nervous hands smoothed an imaginary wrinkle out of her ruffled chestnut skirt.

The air smelled different here. She forgot how much the streets stunk like horse dung and human sewage. A clear sky shone down on trees burning deep with fall color. A few hardy roses bloomed crimson against the side of the townhouse and an elegant autumn wreath graced the front door. She pulled the cranberry-red shawl over her shoulders and wished she had dressed more warmly.

Holding Paul’s hand, Lilly sucked in air all the way to her toes and marched to the black-painted door with its bulky brass knocker. Before she could lift her hand, the door flew open and her mother grabbed her in a huge hug. The smell of her mother’s powdery perfume enveloped her in a cloud as Rosetta crushed her to her chest.

“Lilly! I’ve missed you so much!” Rosetta squeezed her tight enough to make drawing a breath impossible. Behind her mom stood her dad with a bemused expression on his face as he fiddled with his pine-green waistcoat. At Lilly’s questioning glance, he rolled his eyes and mouthed the word ‘later.’

She was released as swiftly as she was snatched and Rosetta threw herself on Paul, pulling him into an equally fierce hug that almost knocked his Stetson off. Paul’s eyes got big and round as he returned her hug with a hesitant pat on the back. Lilly shrugged her shoulders at his confusion. She had no idea what had gotten into her mother, either.

“Oh, Paul. It’s so good to meet you at last! Naughty boy, asking for Lilly’s hand in marriage before we could approve.” Her mom released him and waggled a finger with a teasing grin.

Lilly’s jaw dropped further. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her mother grin. Smile, yes, simper yes, smirk, oh yes...but grin?

“My apologies, ma’am, sir.” Paul tipped his hat and settled it back on his head and looked very uncomfortable. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you must be Lilly’s...business partner?” Rosetta stared at Sleeping Bear, a shocked expression filling her green eyes. Her hands fluttered up and down from her sides as she debated if she should hug him or not.

Sleeping Bear gave her mother a charming smile, and Rosetta blushed like a schoolgirl. “Yes, my name is Sleeping Bear, of the Comanche.” His long black hair flowed over his shoulder in the wind.

“Comanche, how interesting.”

Lilly covered her laugh with a cough as her mother continued to stare at Sleeping Bear in a fashion most unbecoming of a married woman.

“And this is my father, Mr. Abraham Brooks,” Lilly said in a loud voice. Rosetta jumped and moved back to her husband’s side, glancing back over her shoulder at Sleeping Bear.

“Pleased to meet you, sir. My apologies for not asking your permission for Lilly’s hand,” Paul said in a smooth voice. The men shook hands. Abraham studied Paul and Lilly in silence before his face crinkled into a welcoming smile.

“No need to apologize, but let’s get inside. The weather’s too cold out here for my old bones.” Lilly and her father shared an amused look as Rosetta kept stealing peeks at Sleeping Bear.

Lilly ducked into the kitchen, where her father was refilling his coffee. “What’s going on with Mother? Has she started drinking while I was gone? Not that I disapprove of her new zest for life, but it’s a little odd.”

Abraham snorted and dropped some sugar cubes into his cup. “Your fiancé’s sister sent your mother a nice note the other day. It expressed her pleasure at you becoming part of her family and invited us all up to Boston for a visit around Christmas.” He leaned back against the white marble countertop and watched her closely.

Scrunching her brow, she plucked some dead leaves from the plants in the windowsill above the sink. “Well, that was very nice of her.”

“Indeed, she must lead a very busy life as a former viscountess,” he replied in a dry voice.

“Huh?” The dry leaves fell from her lifeless fingers in a powdery drift.

His lips twitched in amusement. “Yes, Paul’s sister is the Lady Daniel Sutherland. She married an English viscount. Quite the socialite, from what I gather. Your mother’s friends are vying for an invitation to the wedding.”

“Her husband passed away a few years ago,” Lilly said in an absent voice, wondering how in the world she would convince Paul’s sister she was good enough for him. Paul said his sister raised horses near Boston. She was going to have to talk with him about what was considered important information regarding future sisters-in-law, like only describing Catherine as a bratty younger sister who married an English guy.

“Your mother nearly passed out when she saw the word ‘Lady’ on the envelope.” He took a drink, his blue eyes twinkling at the memory. “I don’t think she would care if Paul was ninety years old and crippled. She’s thrilled at the idea of being related to anyone with ties to royalty, no matter that those ties actually vanished with the death of Mrs. Sutherland’s husband. Your mother’s social status has risen considerably among her friends.”

“Ahhhh, that explains the hugs.”

“Yep. Though I don’t think she was expecting Sleeping Bear. He is rather...large.”

She laughed and looped her arm through her father’s, resting her head on his shoulder. “What do you think of Paul?” She feared her hand, playing with his watch chain, would betray her nerves. His opinion was very important to her, and she wanted him to love Paul as much as she did.

“Seems like a decent fellow. Raising his brothers and taking care of a prosperous ranch takes a lot of effort. Not an easy thing at his age. I like him, and more importantly, you love him.”

She let out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding and smiled at her father.

He gave her a gentle squeeze. “Does he treat you well, Lilly?

“Yes, he’s amazing.” She turned her cheek against his shoulder, hiding her blush. Paul had been very amazing indeed on the train ride east, repeatedly amazing...in a variety of positions.

“Back to Sleeping Bear. How is he your business partner?”

She straightened the edge of her father’s jacket. “Um….”

“Oh, Lordy. Nothing good ever comes out of one of your ‘ums’.” Abraham gave her a wink.

Ten minutes later, Lilly swung her feet from the edge of the counter she sat on. “So that’s what happened and why we’re here. We need some stores in Hartford to stock the Comanche merchandise. Paul’s sister said she would carry the dresses and moccasins in a boutique she owns in London, but I thought you might be able to carry them in your store as well.” Her father didn’t say anything so she continued in a worried rush, “The more we can sell, the more help it will be. You’ll make money off it, too. I’ll give you twenty percent of the profits I make.”

Abraham took a deep breath in through his nose. “Lilly, I....”

She closed her eyes against the disappointment, trying to think of other storeowners she could approach. “It’s all right. I—”

Abraham dashed away a tear. “I am so proud of you.”

“Huh?” Her feet stopped tapping against the cabinet.

“We’ll work out a business plan, and the prices, but I don’t think I’ll have a problem selling any of the items. Especially around Christmas. The west has become very popular and fashionable lately. There’s even a theater show called Scouts of the Plains that has been sold out every night in Boston.”

He gazed out the kitchen window at the pruned bushes, sucking on his cheek as he thought. “Your mother could do her part by insisting to her friends that those Comanche dolls are the must-have gift for their daughters.”