Lilly: Bride of Illinois (American Mail-Order Bride 21) (4 page)

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Authors: Linda K. Hubalek

Tags: #Historical, #Romance, #Fiction, #Forever Love, #Victorian Era, #Western, #Fifth In Series, #Saga, #Fifty-Books, #Forty-Five Authors, #Newspaper Ad, #Short Story, #American Mail-Order Bride, #Bachelor, #Single Woman, #Marriage Of Convenience, #Christian, #Religious, #Faith, #Inspirational, #Factory Burned, #Pioneer, #Illinois, #Sweden Emigrate, #Chicago, #Kansas Rancher, #Union Stackyards, #1890 Fat Stock Show, #American Horse Show, #Horseflesh, #Train Station, #Saloon, #Thugs, #Trouble, #Hunted, #Secrets

BOOK: Lilly: Bride of Illinois (American Mail-Order Bride 21)
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Lilly scanned the tables, then looked back to a certain one, because the man seated at it wasn’t making any noise, just staring at her instead.
He’s the tall cowboy I saw at the train depot!
He’d taken his cowboy hat off, but it rested on one knee which stuck sideways out from under the table. He gave her a solemn nod of acknowledgement, giving her a moment of sanity.

Realizing Mr. Boswell was waiting for her to start singing, Lilly sang the next song while looking at the man quietly watching her. It went better than the first song, only because she had a focal point this time.

Lilly clamped her fists tightly at her sides as she listened to another round of humiliating calls. Now she had to sing the song she still stuttered through. Lilly didn’t want to sing it, especially to the man watching her. She was supposed to do arm actions and sway her body while singing the embarrassing words, too.

When Mr. Boswell started playing this introduction, the men roared, apparently knowing the song she was about to sing. Lilly gritted her teeth and tried to stare at the ceiling through the smoky haze. She sang the song quickly so Mr. Boswell had to play faster to keep up with her. She stood defiantly at the end of the song, staring at Mr. Hardesty who leaned against the bar at the opposite end of the room. He had a smirk on his face, guessing Lilly had finally realized what her role was at the Emporium—and it wasn’t to be his loving bride.

Lilly scanned the room, and quickly decided the cowboy from the train station was the best man to approach for her next ‘act’ of the evening. She lifted her skirt enough to carefully walk down the four steps off the stage. Men stood on both sides of the steps trying to grab her, but she angrily slapped them away. She was fuming at Mr. Hardesty’s betrayal and her own stupidity.
Dear God in Heaven, please help me find a way out of this mess!

The man watched her weaving through the tables and his eyes widened when she stood before him. Another cowboy sitting next to him slapped him on the back, apparently congratulating him for his ‘luck’ at being chosen for her attention.

Lilly took a deep breath, took the hat off the cowboy’s knee and placed it on the table in front of him. She had a metallic taste in her mouth, then realized she was biting her lower lip so hard she was drawing blood. She licked her lips and swallowed a few times to clear her mouth. She glanced sideways, and found Mr. Hardesty watching her closely.

“May I sit on your lap, sir?” He acted like he didn’t hear her at first, but then uncrossed his legs so she could sit across his thighs. Lilly gingerly sat down, bracing for his hand to pinch her rear, but he gently placed his large palm on her waist to steady her instead. Next, she wrapped her arms around his neck, which brought her face close to his.

He intensely searched her face as she studied his handsome features. His strong jawline and chin were covered with a day’s worth of stubble. He had bushy eyebrows, slightly darker than his straight, auburn hair. His nose was large, but not like a beak to make his face look out of proportion. And he looked like a man she could trust.

He leaned close to her ear, but she wasn’t afraid of him doing something inappropriate. “I’m Seth Reagan, here in Chicago for the livestock show. I saw you at the depot when we both arrived and overheard the conversation you had with the person you met there. Are you in some kind of trouble, miss?”

Lilly wanted to lean her forehead against Mr. Reagan’s shoulder and cry. “Yes, I traveled here thinking I was meeting my fiancé, but apparently it was a one–way ticket to work in this
saloon
instead.”

“Do you want help getting out of here?”


Desperately
, but I’ve been warned I won’t be leaving by free choice, or alive,” Lilly shuddered and he squeezed her waist in sympathy.

“I’m staying at the Hough House. The hotel is five blocks straight east of here. It’s a five story building with an American flag waving from its dome top. I’m in room…” Mr. Reagan stopped talking when a hand clamped onto his shoulder.

“Either you take this gentleman
upstairs to your room,
Miss Lind, or you move on to someone else.” Lilly’s mouth gaped open at Hardesty’s meaning,
and
at his sudden change in personality. Gone was the charming gentlemen she first met. Now he was threatening her in a menacing tone.

“What’s the cost of enjoying this beautiful woman?” Mr. Reagan’s eyes didn’t leave Lilly’s as he asked Hardesty the price of going upstairs. Lilly stopped breathing, and looked back and forth between the two men.

“Because this is Miss Lind’s debut night so to speak, two dollars for an hour’s honor,” Mr. Hardesty declared, challenging Mr. Reagan, not expecting him to follow through with the high price.

“It would be my pleasure, sir,” he answered, while nodding to Lilly. “If this lovely lady will stand up so I can get my money out of my vest pocket, I’ll pay the fee and the two of us can proceed upstairs.”

Mr. Reagan squeezed her waist again and gently pushed her off his lap. He reached a finger into his vest pocket, pulled out two silver dollar coins, and held them out until Hardesty held his hand out, palm up.

Mr. Reagan’s smile wasn’t showing in his eyes as he dropped the coins onto Hardesty’s palm with one hand, while putting his other on Lilly’s lower back and gently pushing her forward to start walking. When they reached the bottom of the stairway, Mr. Reagan offered his bent arm, as any proper gentleman would do. After looking back at Mr. Hardesty, Lilly slid her hand into the other man’s arm.
Am I safe, or am I about to become a soiled dove?

 

Chapter 3

 

“You’re safe with me, Miss Lind. I only offered to pay for your services to get you alone to talk about your predicament—nothing else,” Seth said, and quickly wrapped his arm around Miss Lind when she sagged with relief.

“Which is your room, Miss Lind, so we can get away from prying eyes and eavesdroppers?”

“Last one at the end of the hall,” the woman whispered to him.

“Is there a back staircase we can leave from after we get your things?”

“Yes, but…”

“Are you finding your way to Miss Lind’s room, sir?” Seth took a moment to compose his face before turning back to the saloon owner who stood a few doors down from them.

“Yes, we are about to enjoy our privacy—if you don’t mind,” Seth said in a warning tone. “I paid my money for this privilege, so let me…
savor Miss Lind
. Seth drew out the words to put Hardesty in his place. He turned the knob on the door Miss Lind has pointed to and ushered her inside.

“Is there an inside lock to keep that man out of your room?” he whispered to the frightened woman hovering against the far wall of the room—which wasn’t that far away, being a small space. She shook her head, then murmured. “I’ve been shoving the chair under the knob at night, that’s all I can do. But someone has been locking me
in
the room when I’m not downstairs with someone watching me anyway.”

He crossed the room to look out the window, but couldn’t see anything but shadows. He tried opening the window but it wouldn’t budge.

“There’s always someone standing outside the backdoor at night, more often than not, it’s a policeman,” she softly spoke to tell him about the staircase he had asked about. When Seth stared at her in disbelief, Lilly continued. “The woman who helped me dress tonight told me the police are paid to do certain ‘jobs’ for Mr. Hardesty.” Then she told him what else Fannie has said about other women who had been drawn here under false pretenses.

“Miss Lind I promise to help you get out of this bad situation,” Seth put his hand over his heart, trying to prove his honesty to her.

“How do I know I can trust
you
?”

“My father is a minister. If you know your Bible, and can start a verse, I could probably say the rest of it. And if I e
ver
hurt a woman, I’m sure I could feel my ma thump my head all the way from Kansas,” Seth earnestly replied, thinking what his parents would say about him being in a soiled dove’s room. But they’d be proud he was here to help another human being.

“You’re from Kansas? Do you know any Swedish people?” Miss Lind relaxed a tad with her questions.

“Yes. We have a big population of Swedes about fifty miles southwest of us. And we have a Swedish family in our community of friends.”

Miss Lind narrowed her eyes and asked, “How do I now you’re telling the truth?”

“Let’s see…I prefer hot mustard on
lutfisk
instead of cream sauce—if I have to eat the smelly fish,” he grinned as she snickered.

“It only smells when you soak the fish to prepare it.”

“Yep, Taylor’s Mercantile gets their supply of the ‘dried fish boards’ in early October because you have the soak the stuff for six weeks in lye first before it’s soft enough to eat.”

“What else?”

“I’m okay eating
bruna bönor
—or brown beans—although I didn’t expect them to be sweetened with molasses instead of seasoned with chili powder the first time I ate them.”

“Now you’re making me hungry for Swedish food,” she held her middle, and he guessed she’d been just plain hungry since she left Boston by her thin stature.

“I know some simple words,
moder, fader
, for mother and father. The Hamner family makes a nice
smörgåsbord
of food, so I always accept their invitation for a meal.

“And…I use a Swedish word
dumskalle
when I get frustrated dealing with an ornery horse. I don’t consider it really cussing when I’m using the Swedish word, which means a dimwitted, blockheaded jackass.”

Seth liked how Miss Lind’s blue eyes brightened when he talked about the little Swedish he knew. Would this be enough to put her mind at ease?


Tack så mycket
, Mr. Reagan. Thank you. I feel I can fully trust you now,” Miss Lind quietly stated.


Varsågod
, you’re welcome. I promise I will help you any way I can.”

“Now if we can get out of here. I only have my reticule, a small bag and my cloak…” Lilly stopped mid–sentence as she looked around the room, and then pulled out the three drawers in the small dresser beside the window. “Now they’ve taken my cloak, hat and gloves! Earlier my shawl disappeared so I couldn’t cover up my shoulders and chest tonight,” Lilly closed her eyes, looking downright disgusted. “And my shirtwaist and skirt were taken the first day to be cleaned and haven’t made their way back to my room either. This blue dress is the only thing I have to wear,” Miss Lind cringed, apparently embarrassed at being seen in it.

“What about your reticule and bag?” Seth asked, wondering if they were missing, too.

Miss Lind opened a dresser drawer. “They are here. All I have in my carpet bag is my English translation book, my Swedish Bible, and an extra pair of underthings and socks. And I’m embarrassed to say only two dollars left in my reticule, but now I wouldn’t count on it being in there,” she whispered.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Lind.” Seth touched her shoulder in sympathy.

They both jumped when there was a sharp rap on the door. “Your time is about up!” the rat Hardesty growled. Seth wondered if he could overpower the man and sneak Miss Lind out the back way, but guessed Hardesty had a weapon on him.
Why isn’t my loaded revolver in my gun belt around my hips like I always wear in Kansas? I feel so inadequate and unprepared!

Seth pulled his wallet out of his pocket, opened it up and took a twenty–dollar bill out of it. “Here, hide this on your person now before he pushes his way in. If I can’t get you past him now, I’ll wait outside near the end of the alley for three hours in case you can get out yourself.”

Miss Lind turned her back to him, frantically pulling her skirt up to get under the tight corset to her chemise, where Seth assumed she was trying to hide the money. Seth was embarrassed to see her go through her clothing, but she had to hide the money under as many layers as she could.

Hardesty rapped louder on the door.

“Hey!”
Seth yelled. “Hold your horses! I haven’t finished using up my two dollars yet!”

Seth leaned down to stare into her eyes and whisper, “Remember I’m in the Hough House, room 217. If you can’t get there, I’ll be in the stockyards the next two mornings looking at the horses in the sale pens... If we can’t meet before I leave in four days,
keep trying to escape this place!
Use the money to get on the train and head for Clear Creek, Kansas. Remember
Clear Creek.
It’s opposite of the dirty stinking creek near here.
Clear Creek.
Go to my parents at the parsonage, or to Marshall Adam Wilerson. Remember
Adam is the first man with Eve.
He’s the first man you can trust in town.”

“Okay, I promise I’ll get out of this mess and to you as soon as I can.
Thank you so much for trying to help me!”
Lilly wrapped her arms around his waist and Seth wished he could hold her forever.
Why did that thought pop into his head?

“Now, how about a kiss on my cheek to smear a little of your paint on me? Got to make it look like we did something in here besides talk,” Seth said trying to give her a little hope.

Miss Lind stood on tiptoe, grabbed his face between her hands and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

The key turned in the lock and Seth jumped to the door and pulled the chair out of the way. He motioned for Miss Lind to get behind him as he prepared to mow Hardesty down when the man opened the door.

But when the door opened, two burly men stood three feet away from the door—with Hardesty behind them. Apparently the man was used to trouble in his saloon.

“Your escort is ready to see you outside, Mr.…?” Hardesty asked with calculating eyes.

“George Milner,” Seth said the first made–up name which came to him as he stuck his hand toward Hardesty, as if he wanted to shake hands. Hardesty ignored his gesture.

“See he gets outside now, Jones,” Hardesty pretended to say politely. “I need to have a little talk with my newest singer for a moment.” Now his lip curled in a snarl as he watched Seth’s face, but Seth kept all emotion clear of his features.

Seth turned to walk toward the front stairway. He took a quick glance over his shoulder to see Hardesty shut the door and the third man fold his arms and stand guard in front of it.

Jones grabbed Seth’s arm like a vise and pulled him toward the stairs. “Don’t worry about the lady. The boss really likes her looks and voice, so he’ll keep her around. He never hurts them where it shows anyway.”

Seth barely kept the bile down which erupted up this throat. He had to find a way to get Miss Lind out of this place.

***

“Well,” Mr. Hardesty said as he walked into the room and shut the door, “was Mr. Milner happy with your time together?”

Lilly glanced at the bed, then around the room before answering, “I think so. He…wanted to stay longer…but you chased him out.”

Hardesty walked up to her and lifted her chin with one finger so she had to look up at him. “Except for the red smear of lip paint on his cheek, neither of your clothes were altered, nor was the bed even sat on. It didn’t look like the two of you had much contact this evening.”

Lilly’s temper flared at his remarks. She was
not
going to cower to this loathsome man. “Well,
a lady
never tells such details, Mr. Hardesty. You got your money, and that’s what counts,
correct?

She guessed his answer when he raised his fist, but she wasn’t giving in to this bully.

The saloon was finally quiet upstairs and down at around four in the morning. She looked out the window and couldn’t see the night guard now. Was he leaning against the building, inside the doorway, or no longer on duty?

Lilly guessed it took at least fifteen minutes for her to pick the lock open with a hair pin. She took the gray blanket off the bed and put the top quilt back on so someone wouldn’t miss it right away. It would have to do for warmth since her outer clothes had been taken. She slipped her reticule and bag on her arm, then wrapped the blanket around herself, being careful to wrap it high enough around her shoulders so she wouldn’t trip on an edge.

She turned down the lantern wick until the flame went out, stood a minute to let her eyes adjust to the darkness, then carefully opened the door and looked down the hall.

She slowly stepped out of the room, holding her breath in case a floorboard squeaked and gave her escape away. Should I go down the back staircase or the front one?
Which one would they expect me to use if I could escape?

What about a weapon to protect herself? The two times she’d passed through the kitchen—of course with someone escorting her—she hadn’t seen any knives or knife blocks out on the table or sideboard. She could guess why the cutlery was locked away.

Better to go down the front steps because they were carpeted. Lilly kept her hand lightly touching the wall while tiptoeing down the hall. She saw a bit of shadow when she got to the top of the stairs. She eased down to sit on the first step, listening for any sound from the first floor. She slid down another step. There was a little light coming in from the street lamps outside the saloon’s windows, showing the main room and bar area was quiet. She slid another step down. Unfortunately she hadn’t paid any attention to the front double doors when she’d been in the saloon, nor had she ever gone through them. The top half of each door had a frosted glass window, but she didn’t know what kind of handles and locks they had.

She slowly slid down to the next to the last step, then stopped when she saw the outline of a person to the left of the door. Someone was watching her descend the steps! When the person didn’t move, she realized the shape wasn’t right for a body.

It’s a coat rack!
Lilly stepped down to the floor, pulled up her skirt and bent over to tiptoe to the rack. Maybe there’d be a coat someone forgot. She felt up the pole rack, but only found a woolen scarf. She pulled it off the peg it was draped across, glad it would give her a head and neck a little protection from the cold.

Still in a crouching position, she ran her right hand across middle of the door to find the lock. Would it need a key or was it a knob mechanism? There was nothing on the first of the double doors, so she kept sliding her fingers on the second.
A knob!
She could open this door,
if
that was the only lock! What about a deadbolt? She felt nothing up to a foot higher than the knob. How about a foot bolt, or a chain bolt at the top of the door? Running her hand to the base of the door, she had to move her hand back to the first door to find it. So the first door had a lock at the bottom, and looking up, she saw the shadow of the chain to pull down the top bolt.

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