Sold on a Monday - Kristina McMorris Page 0,95

thing, given its god-awful taste. Problem was, it splattered an orange-and-green mess all over our sheets hanging to dry.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, envisioning the scene. “Did you get in a heap of trouble for it?”

“Got a doozy of a lecture. Would’ve been the belt for sure, but I was so bruised from the recoil that I managed to get a mercy pass.” He grinned at her. As if on cue, laughter burst from patrons across the pub, turning Ellis toward them. Inches below his hat, a terrible scrape marred his cheek. Was it a scuffle that had caused his delay?

She reached for the wound without thinking, and stopped herself when he angled back to her. “What is that from?”

Ellis went to answer, but more laughter arose. He swept a look around, seeming disconcerted by listeners within earshot. A reminder of their situation.

He tipped his head toward the exit. “Let’s talk on the way.”

• • •

A faint sprinkling dotted the windshield as they drove, the clouded sky darkening. It wasn’t yet eight but looked to be ten. The stickball players were gone. The porches were vacant. All of this, Lily noted, would serve as an advantage.

Ellis parked down the road from the old tannery and shut off the engine. Among the orphanage windows, a few upstairs glowed with lights. Those of the sleeping quarters would be the last ones out.

On her own, Lily would have been antsy with impatience. Instead, she was wholly engrossed, listening to Ellis’s highlights from the past two days: the plea from Ruby, his arrest at the school, the confrontation with the Millstones, and a surprising deal with a mobster named Max.

Geraldine hadn’t heard any of this yet; there hadn’t been time, Ellis said. Besides, he was plainly digesting events more befitting a picture show with Pinkerton agents and spy rings than real life.

“At least Pop and I are on better footing.” He offered a half smile. “We just might be living together again soon.” It was a bare attempt to lighten the mood, burdened by looming consequences that could now be far worse.

Respectfully, Lily played along. “Well, Geraldine will sure be grateful to have Ruby back, especially once she’s heard the full story. By then, hopefully we’ll know where Calvin’s gone. And if needed, goodness, I know my parents would gladly make room for the Dillards until they’re settled.”

Ellis nodded with another smile. He set aside his hat, and a wavy lock of his black hair fell over his temple.

For several seconds, Lily tried to leave the topic at that, but she couldn’t. “Aren’t you afraid of Sylvia, though? That she’ll seek revenge of some kind?”

He ruminated a moment. “I guess I’ll find out.”

“If they’re really the ones controlling your savings, could you ask that fellow—Max—about it?”

Ellis spurted a laugh. “When it comes to money, I get the feeling he’d be less sympathetic. Never mind on the heels of another favor.”

Frustration kept Lily from relenting. Yes, she had given Ellis a piece of her mind when she feared the lure of materialism and flashy headlines were changing him for the worse. But to have it all stripped away was utterly unfair.

And having him help her tonight could severely compound the situation, she realized. “If you’re already facing charges… Ellis, you shouldn’t be here.”

“And give you all the glory? Fat chance.”

“I’m serious. You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes. I do.”

“But the risks you’d be taking—”

“Aren’t all that different from yours.”

She could argue about his higher stakes, yet the resolve on his face said there was no point. Then he looked at her through the fuzzy grayness, his features softening. “It’ll be okay. Whatever happens, we’re doing the right thing.”

At the gentleness of his tone—a true reflection of him, she had learned—the buffer around her heart closed in. He parted his lips as if sensing this, and over the steering wheel, his hand eased downward. The possibility that he would reach out and touch her cheek, kissing her as he once had, trapped the breath in her throat. The sensations of that moment flowed back: the feel of his fingers in her hair, of trailing down the side of her neck.

But his fingers suddenly curled under, settling on his leg.

A message, unintended or not.

She shifted toward her window. With a discreet exhale, she wiped the images from her thoughts, grateful he couldn’t see them.

Would the lights in the orphanage ever turn off?

“You do realize,” he said after a bit, “if we pull this off, it could make

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