11th Hour Rose (16 page)

Davy shook his head, jamming his hat on his head and grabbing his sidearm before leaving the house. He had some serious decisions to make.

*              *              *

Later that afternoon Davy grimly ascended the wooden steps of the Hudson’s house. He rapped formally on the door and George answered within moments.

“Good afternoon, Sherriff.” Davy nodded curtly, removing his hat. “Is Lilly at home? I was hoping to speak with her for a minute.”

“Certainly.” George smiled in his ever kind way and rocked back a step admitting him entrance to the charming little cottage. “No flowers today.”

“Oh, uh, no.” Davy shifted uncomfortably, more than a little guilty after his midnight escapade to her bedroom.

“Lilly,” George called. “Marshal Langston is here to see you.”

“I’ll be right down,” her lilting voice drifted down the stairs. A moment later she appeared on the stairs. She wore a high-necked sable hued dress with long sleeves to disguise the bruises from her attack, and the length of her hair was tied back with a simple ribbon. Her brilliant smiling face fixed on him and he was a little boy again. His pulse quickened, the blood rushed hot in his veins, and she just looked so damn happy.

Davy gulped.

Dear Lord forgive him for what he was about to do.

*              *              *

Thrilled that Davy had come to call, Lilly hurried down the stairs. She couldn’t wait to give him her answer. After he’d left last night she’d read Daniel’s letter one more time and come to the conclusion that life was too short to remain undecided. She loved David, he loved her, and the rest would fall into place with time and hard work. Perhaps there would be opportunity for a woman with a good legal mind in the west.

David regarded her seriously, the stern furrow present in his brow. “Would you like to step outside for a moment?”

“Yes.” She grinned, and quickly sashayed forward, slipping a hand through his arm. He stiffened beneath her touch, and Lilly was a little disconcerted when he failed to return her welcoming smile.

He led her off the porch and into the yard to the swing beneath her flower trellis. She perched on the wooden bench, and he sat heavily beside her, rocking the swing back with his long legs. He rested his hat on one knee, and raked a hand through his golden hair.

“Lilly, I’ve been thinking on what you said,” he began. “You were right to refuse me. I’m moving west. That is no place for you. I can’t keep you safe there.”

Lilly’s spine stiffened. “But, Davy—”

He held up a silencing hand. “No, buts. Forgive me if I’ve pressured you unduly…” he hesitated, washing a broad palm over his face. “Jesus, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Lilly’s heart stumbled and threatened to shatter. “You said you loved me.” The swing rocked back and then forward again, her arm pressed against the corded muscle of his arm.

He sighed and looked her directly in the eye. His handsome face appeared pale and haggard with dark circles surrounding his eyes. A glimmer of panic lived within the blue depths. “I truly care for your welfare, Lilly, but it’s best if we’re not together in that way. You were right.”

You were right.
Three words she’d never expected to hear from his lips. She certainly never imagined they’d ferry so much despair. Lilly squared her shoulders, refusing to give in to the desolation welling up inside her, swallowing the joy she’d secured just moments before. She’d survived worse than David Langston’s rejection.

For a moment each of them sat unmoving. Lilly did not know what to do. Should she fight? Argue? Or was her initial instinct about his hasty proposal correct?

Finally he stood, setting his hat low on his brow. “I’ll see you around, Lilly.”

*              *              *

For two days Lilly refused to cry over the failed
almost
engagement with David. She’d survived invasions, bombings, military occupation, the death of her first love, and would
never
be broken by a man.
Never.
Even so, her firm resolve hardly kept the sadness and hurt at bay. She holed up in her room, refusing every visitor that came to call—even Lavinia—but when her father announced the doctor had arrived for her follow up visit she was given no choice but to acquiesce and see him.

“Dr. Langston, could I ask you a personal question?” Lilly inquired after he’d given her a clean bill of health.

“About my brother?” he asked astutely.

She blushed and nodded.

“You can ask. I can’t promise a suitable answer.” Craig Langston sat on the narrow desk chair across from her.

Lilly folded her hands in front of her, wondering how best to voice her questions. “Has Davy always blamed himself for his wife’s death?”

Craig blew out his breath in a whoosh, slouching down in the chair. In an instant he transformed from the professional well-adjusted physician she was familiar with to a haunted young man.

“No more than I’ve blamed myself.” Craig shook his head, meeting her gaze with sad eyes. “Laura’s death wrecked him. He hasn’t been the same since that day.”

“What happened?” Lilly asked quietly. “I only ask because I care and I want to help him.”

Craig sighed, and for a moment Lilly feared he would not relate the facts of Davy’s past to her. “Laura was beautiful. Good hearted and kind. In all the years I knew her I never had a single occasion to see her raise her voice. Davy adored her and she him, but her health failed shortly after they married and Laura never fully recovered.” He paused for a moment shifting in his chair. “I’m not certain Davy fully understood her weakened condition because he was gone so frequently with his army career. She put on her best face when he was home. When Laura became pregnant we all worried, but she managed well enough.” Craig stopped, his gaze drifting off and growing distant. “There were complications with the birth. Laura’s midwife called for me but too late. I tried,” he murmured. “I tried for both of them. It wasn’t enough. There must have been something more I could have done.”

“No,” Lilly said adamantly. “You did everything. You were put in a terrible position. It is only natural you’d feel a heightened sense of responsibility for your own family.”

Craig smiled. “You sound like my wife. She tells me the same thing.”

Lilly smiled in return. “Your wife is a very smart lady.”

“That she is.”

They lapsed into an amiable silence. Lilly processed what she’d learned, gaining new understanding of David’s overprotective nature and his compelling need to keep everyone safe.

“Could I ask you a personal question now?”

Lilly snapped her attention back to the doctor. “I suppose it’s only fair.”

“What is going on between you and my brother? Marissa, my wife, was convinced he’d propose marriage.”

Lilly sighed. “I wish I knew. But what you’ve told me today sheds some light. Thank you for that. Thank you very much.”

11
^th
Hour Rose

Fourteen

David stood on the train station platform as a sleek black engine chugged into the station. His eyes flicked across the train yard, searching for Marcus Brady who should have met him there near thirty minutes ago. Jason Donovan, and former New York City Mayor, Carl Potter, were due on the two o’clock train. The men had booked the earliest possible passage to bring every shred of potential evidence from Jessica Potter’s murder near eight years ago.

“Langston!” A voice called from his left, the voice nearly lost as the massive engine groaned to a halt, brakes squealing.

Davy turned to find Marcus jogging toward him. His gaze instantly honed in on a few red drops splattered across Brady’s shirt. “What the hell happened to you?”

Marcus glanced down at the stains on his shirt. “Bloody nose.”

Davy seriously doubted that. He’d seen a great deal of blood in his life and the drops on Brady’s shirt looked like splatter, not drips.

“I wish I could say I pissed off the husband of a beautiful woman, but the truth is I ran into a door.”

Davy didn’t reply. He still didn’t trust a word out of Brady’s mouth. The reporter had become quite popular for his daily articles regarding the
Charleston Serial Killer.
Davy clenched a fist. If he saw one more newspaper with the words
Murderer Strikes Again
splashed across the front headline, he’d drive that fist into Brady’s pompous mouth.

Grinding the dour thoughts down, Davy turned his attention to the parade of travelers scattering onto the loading platform. A man of about thirty stepped off the train and swept a woman—presumably his wife—into a warm embrace. A vision of Lilly meeting him with passion and excitement flashed through Davy’s mind.

“Donovan!” Marcus called, waving to a man with a thatch of thick dark hair and a black traveling suit.

The other man quickly raised a hand in acknowledgement. He strode across the loading dock followed by a middle-aged man near as tall as David, trim of build and wearing a pale gray suit. “Brady, it’s been a long time.”

“That it has.” The men clasped hands warmly. Donovan gestured to the gentleman standing behind him. “May I introduce Carl Potter?”

Within moments the introductions had been made.

“So you’re Brigadier General David Langston?” Carl Potter shrewdly assessed David’s form.

“Not for some time now.” Davy hadn’t been recognized by his wartime military rank in years. He preferred it that way.

“Alabama, 1864,” Potter said curtly. “You had my boys holed up for over a week. Hell of a fight.”

Davy simply nodded. “I recall.” He offered his right hand. “I am just glad we find ourselves on the same side of this cause.”

The former mayor—and apparently former union soldier—took David’s proffered hand with a steady gaze. “When can we get started? I want to see the son of a bitch that killed my daughter at the end of a noose.”

*              *              *

Shocked, Lilly stared through the parlor window as Davy’s athletic, godlike figure strode through the white gate and up the path toward her front door. One hundred different emotions tumbled through her—anger, surprise,
panic!
She had not seen or spoken to him since that day on the swing… the day he’d withdrawn his offer of marriage.

Her heart twisted painfully as his cool blue gaze fixed on the window. She let the curtain drop and flattened her back against the wall.

Now what should she do?

She still hadn’t forgiven him the offense, and in truth had never expected him to grace her front door ever again. She’d expected him to slink west, head held low, and tail tucked securely between his legs.

Turning to peek back through the window she noted that he was not alone but flanked by Marcus Brady and two other gentlemen she didn’t recognize.

A knock sounded at the door and she groaned aloud, wishing she could crawl beneath the rug and never see the light of day again. Steeling her nerves she pasted a smile on her face and answered the door. Instantly her gaze collided with David’s.

By the grace of God she maintained the false smile. “Good afternoon, Marshal Langston. How can I help you?”

“Miss Lilly,” he replied, voice painfully indifferent, eyes cold. “I would like you to meet Jason Donovan, a reporter for the
New York Times
and a friend of Marcus Brady.”

“Mr. Donovan.” She nodded to the younger of the men, noting he rather looked like Marcus with his tall wiry frame and dark wavy hair. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The man flashed a grin that was positively rakish and clasped her fingertips. “Ah, Miss Lilly, I can assure you the pleasure is all mine.” His dark eyes locked with hers as he leaned over her hand to drop a light kiss on her knuckles.

A wobbly smile touched her lips, and she withdrew. Beside her David stiffened.

“And this is Carl Potter.”

“Mr. Potter.” She smiled as this gentleman merely nodded in response to her greeting.

“His daughter Jessica was murdered in New York City about eight years ago by a man fitting the description of our killer.”

Personal distress all but forgotten her eyes flew to the older man. “I am so sorry for your loss, Mr. Potter. Do come inside. I will fix some coffee.”

Lilly quickly ushered the gentlemen into the parlor, and then rushed to the kitchen. Once there she rested both palms on the table and sucked in a ragged breath, steadying herself. From down the narrow hall Davy’s deep voice rumbled, resonating inside her. His presence in her home overwhelmed her. She didn’t know what to do about it. He’d claimed to love her and then spooked at the thought of sharing his life with her. Part of her truly empathized with the loss he’d experienced and his fear of losing her as well, but wasn’t that the coward’s way out? To never take a chance or give into love?

Lilly had loved and lost, but she was also strong enough to take the risk again.

Deep in thought, she took a few moments to prepare the refreshments, utilizing the time to take her emotions firmly in hand. When she passed back into the parlor with a pot of fresh coffee and a platter of biscuits, she was the picture of composure.

After serving the drinks Lilly seated herself on a wooden rocker directly across from David. “Forgive me, gentlemen, I was not aware that you’d be coming to take part in the investigation.”

Davy’s stony blue eyes flicked briefly to hers. “You were recovering from your attack when we learned about Jessica Potter. We believe she may have been the first victim of our serial killer, and I wanted you to hear what Mr. Potter has to say.”

Lilly shivered, inadvertently tugging at the sleeve covering her bruised wrist. “I see.”

Davy shifted his attention back to Carl Potter. “Is there anyone you can think of who may have had a romantic interest in your daughter?”

“Oh, there were plenty of young bucks interested in my Jess, but I only became concerned a few days before she died. I learned that she’d been secretly corresponding with a man named Bram Cusday for several months.”