The Five Dollar Mail (Book 1: The Green & Book 2: Lynch's Boys)

53: Defending the Gate

Cover painting by Angela Taratuta. Chapter artwork of Lily by Diego Candia. All graphics by me.

I'm sorry, you guys, I was out of town and I completely lost track of what day it was on Monday. The sad part about that is that I actually had the forethought to prep this chapter so that all I had to do was post it. And then because I was out of my routine, I totally forgot what day it was and that I was supposed to post something. Sorry about that. But at least we are back on track now.    -gina

Is that...?  Lily got up from the bench on the jailhouse porch and stared warily down the street. A rider in a worn, travel stained duster was briskly riding a gray mare up the street towards her. His black hat obscured his face, and nearly black hair brushed his shoulders as he approached.

Saint.

Part of her was glad it, at least, that it was not poor Mr. Bender. She didn't know how she and Fiona would ever face him after what they'd done to him. It had been Fiona's idea, and Lily had been shocked, but she'd gone along with it. She felt terribly guilty...and also terribly impressed with the apparent deftness with which Fiona had fastened Mr. Bender's door shut. She couldn't help but think it was not the first time Fiona had ever pulled such a prank.

She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, watching Saint dismount and hitch his horse to the rail. He looked up.

Lily saw him deflate slightly, saw the tense angle of his shoulders relax a bit. "Little Miss..." He walked slowly up the stairs, his gaze connecting with hers from under his unruly forelock. He shoved his hair back under his hat, squinting in the sunshine. "Wha'd are you doin' out here?"

"I'm wondering the same thing about you," she said, taking a wary step backwards. She saw that his lip was split and wondered if he'd been fighting since the last time she'd seen him. He'd also shaved and washed his hair, she noticed unhappily. It was much easier to remain angry at Saint when he looked and smelled like an unwashed, ungroomed animal. It was a little harder when he looked...well, when he looked...

Well, like that.

She scowled, crossing her arms.

His eyes crinkled expressively at the corners. Lily wasn't sure if the look was a smile or not, but it was clear he was enjoying some private joke nonetheless. "I asked first, Little Miss."

"Fiona asked me to keep you out of there until she's ready to leave." Lily gestured to the door with her thumb. "She doesn't want any of you interfering."

Saint seemed to think about this, his eyes narrowing and his face becoming serious. "You think you're up to that?"

Lily felt her cheeks burn. She suddenly felt tiny under his dark gaze, unsure whether he was teasing her or not. She stepped in front of him on suddenly shaking legs, close enough to smell the soap and musk and fresh tobacco of his skin. Tilting her head back, she raised an eyebrow and looked him in the eye.

"Do you think I'm not, Mr. Bari?"

He held her gaze and Lily willed herself not to flinch. "Got no doubt that you are, Little Miss," he said softly. There was no mocking in his voice, no hint of the dimple in his cheek. He nodded, then glanced away, sidestepping her and sitting down quietly on the bench. "After seein' what you two did to Hungerford, I guess it's important to you."

"Oh." Lily cringed. "Mr. Bender." She let out a long, drawn out breath and sat down on the other end of the bench. "Was he angry?"

"Who knows? I didn't actually see him. I mean, he sounded like he..."

"You mean you didn't let him out?"

Saint leaned back in the bench and smiled broadly, letting the sun warm his face.

"Mr. Bari." Lily was stunned. "You just left him there?"

"Hey, what are you so shocked about? You and England are the ones that put him there in the first place." He closed his eyes, stretching out his long legs and sighing as the sunlight soaked into him.

Like a snake on a rock. Lily stared helplessly at him, taking in how his thick, sooty eyelashes lay against his skin like feathery smudges and the sensuous softness of his lips. Something flared in her chest, tingly and burning and altogether unwelcome and she looked quickly away. More like The Snake in The Garden. She forced back the memory of his sturdy shoulders under her hands. I cannot let him get to me like this. He will make it impossible for me to stay here. She took in a deep breath, clearing her head. Men like this are not attracted to...plain, four-eyed farm girls. It would be a joke to him if I...if he thought that I....

He was teasing me when he kissed me.

Her face flooded with embarrassed heat, and fresh anger. Of course, he wouldn't do such a thing to Fiona...the idea that he might want to kiss Fiona is not absurd. She felt a foreboding lump forming in her throat and she swallowed it hard.

"Little Miss?"

Startled, she looked at him, her eyes wide and burning. He had sat up straight, and was looking at her with concern.

"Miss Lily...you alright?"

Don't look at me like that, you bastard. Don't you pretend you give a damn, while you're looking at me with those...those... eyes.

She looked quickly at the worn letters on the abused jailhouse door, studying them intently. "I'm fine," she whispered.

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