Linda Lael Miller Quote

When she stepped out into the cool spring evening Major Halliday was waiting for her. He tilted his hat. Evening, Miss Chalmers, he said. Lily glowered at him. What do you want? The major smiled that insolent, melting smile of his. He had bathed, Lily noticed, and his uniform was fresh. He hesitated for a moment, then said, I’d like to walk you home. It’s dark, after all, and a town full of soldiers is no place for a woman alone. Lily squared her slender shoulders. My rooming house is nearby, she said in dismissal. So I don’t need an escort, thank you. It was as though she hadn’t spoken. Major Halliday fell into step beside her, settling his hat on his head with a practiced motion of one hand. Where did you live before you came here? he asked. Lily sighed. The man was over six feet tall, and he probably weighed twice what she did. There would be no getting rid of him if he didn’t want to go. Nebraska, she replied, quickening her pace. The major frowned. That’s a long way off. Do you have family in Tylerville? An old grief sounded inside Lily like a far-off bell as she thought of her lost sisters. Maybe, despite all her prayers and her letter-writing and her traveling from place to place, she’d never find them. She shook her head. No family. Anywhere? the major pressed. Lily glanced at him. I have an adopted brother living in Spokane, she answered. She wouldn’t tell him about Emma and Caroline; that would be like baring a freshly bandaged wound. Why are you so curious about me, Major? He smiled. My name is Caleb, he corrected, ignoring her question. That’s more than I care to know, Lily replied haughtily, and he laughed at that. I suppose it is. May I call you Lily? No, you may not. I’m to be ‘Miss Chalmers,’ if you must address me at all. He laughed again, and the sound was warm and richly masculine. You’ve got all the warm congeniality of a porcupine, Miss Chalmers. Thank you.