She let out a giant sigh. “The timing was strange. Not ten minutes earlier, Elijah told me how unsuitable my dress was for a future preacher’s wife. He didn’t think it was modest enough.”
Jesse let out a blustering scoff before he could censor himself. He tried to sound less rankled than he felt when he responded, but he wasn’t very successful. “Hogwash! You were draped from head to toe. How on earth was it unsuitable?” He managed to bite back what else he thought, which was how unkind it was of the preacher to suggest she looked anything but sweet and modest.
She gave him a wry smile. “He didn’t like the lace around my wrists. He said I looked like a saloon girl.”
Jesse laughed then. Lily watched him with the same wry smile until he finally stopped and shook his head. “I’m sorry for laughing, honey. I find that so ridiculous and at the same time ironic, considering that you were actually interested at one time in becoming a saloon gal.”
Sadness clouded her pretty face. “Yeah. But you convinced me otherwise, and I’ve done your bidding and found the attentions of one man.”
Her sadness distressed him, as did the fact that his advice contributed to her being with another man, a man who didn’t seem to make her very happy. Jesse didn’t like it, not one bit. “Hey,” he said, stepping forward. He pushed a stray lock of her soft brunette hair behind her ear, a tender gesture he probably shouldn’t have done, but he couldn’t resist. Nor could he resist cupping her chin gently with his hand and tilting it up so he could study her eyes. “Just because you’ve found the attentions of one man, doesn’t mean he’s the right one. If you feel unhappy with Elijah, you must tell him that and end it.”
Her eyes flashed with something resembling fear. “It’s too late. He already believes he will marry me. Everyone believes it will happen, and that it’s supposed to.”
Her fear worried him even more than her sadness. The pangs of regret over sending her away all those months ago stabbed at his chest. He slowly removed his hand from her face. “You’re not married yet, Lily. It concerns me that you look sad when you speak of him, and also a bit like a rabbit caught in a trap.”
“He’s a good man,” she said weakly, without conviction.
Jesse placed his Stetson on his head. “Sometimes, honey, the men you expect to be good aren’t good at all.” He ran the pad of his thumb along her flushed cheek, then cursed himself inwardly. What was he doing? He needed to stop touching her, stop complimenting her, and stop trying to see her. It wasn’t right. He turned and walked a few strides away before he heard her say something that made him stop.
“I suppose it works the other way too, doesn’t it, Jesse? You might expect a saloon owner to be bad, but he isn’t bad at all.”
He half-turned to look at her and smiled sadly. “I would agree that he isn’t bad. He is, however, a terrible fool.” With that, he departed, even more pissed off with himself and worried about Lily than before his visit.
His worry only grew. The next day he saw her again. He closed up the saloon after the last of the patrons left and decided to go on a quick walk to clear his head before retiring for the evening. The town was quiet, since it was the middle of the night. It brought him peace walking in the moonlight, with only the sound of the chirping crickets to keep him company. On that evening, however, he heard another person’s footsteps. When he rounded the corner at the edge of the block, he came to a stop.
He could hardly believe what he was seeing. There skipping along the sidewalk and humming to herself was little Miss Lily.
“Lily?” he said, incredulous.
She stopped and turned when she heard him. As she approached, Jesse saw a big smile on her face. She looked delighted to see him, and he was less than pleased to see her.
“Howdy, Jesse. What are you doing out here?”
Jesse folded his arms and frowned down at her. “That’s my question for you, young lady.”
Her eyes widened at his tone. “Oh. Well,” she stammered, “it’s a lovely evening. I’m just enjoying the fresh air.”
“Is that right? Do you often enjoy the fresh air in the middle of the night alone?”
She shrugged. “No, not often. Just whenever I feel like it.”
Her cavalier response rendered him speechless for a moment. When he found his voice, he said, “Surely your parents don’t permit this.”
She shrugged again. “My parents don’t really care what I do, so long as I get my chores done.”
“I see,” he said grimly, disturbed by her parents’ permissiveness. “Well, I happen to care, and I’m taking you home. Come along.” He held out his hand to her. She grinned and took it.