Unending Devotion Quotes

“When things don't turn out the way we want, about the only thing we can do is know God is still there piecing together all the scraps of the events in our lives the way He has planned. He sees the big picture even when we don't.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“You don't have to let his definition of success be yours”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“Maybe we won't have the beauty of a perfect summer. But neither do we have to endure the callousness of an uncaring winter. Instead, we can all look for our own spring- we can discover where God wants to use us. Do you hear the whisper of spring?”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“Her heart pattered faster. She longed to feel the warmth of his summer-green eyes upon her, as they’d been so many times since she’d met him. “Can I come in?” a muffled voice said from the other side of the door. “Only if you’ve washed your hands,” Vera called, pouring the hog’s foot oil onto the spoon. The door opened a crack, but before Lily could see who it was, Vera lowered the medicine to her lips and forced it in. Lily pinched her nose and tried to swallow the mucous-like mixture without it coming back up. “And how’s Lily this evening?” a cheerful male voice asked. The medicine sank—along with her spirits. It was only Stuart. Again. Where was Connell? When Vera backed away, Lily peered beyond Stuart to the empty doorway. Why wasn’t he coming? If she didn’t know better, she’d almost think he was avoiding her. Stuart followed her glance to the door, and some of the brightness of his smile faded. She stuffed down her disappointment, knowing she wasn’t being gracious to Stuart, who’d come faithfully every evening to see her. She pulled her attention back to him and forced a smile. “I need you to help me convince Vera I’m better and can get out of bed.” “I’ll do no such thing.” He crossed to the side of the double bed. “Vera’s the best nurse in all of Clare County. In fact, she could open a pharmacy with all the medicine she has.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“She wasn’t sure how much time passed—it could have been hours—when something roused her. With a start she opened her eyes. It took her a moment to realize Connell was sitting next to her and that he’d tucked her into the crook of his arm with her head against his chest. The steady thud of his heartbeat echoed against her ear. His face was haggard with weariness, a testimony to the sleeplessness and danger he’d endured all night. She had no doubt it was well into the morning and that the threat of wolves was over for at least the time being; otherwise he wouldn’t have allowed himself the luxury of breaking his vigilance. Her parched tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and her body ached with feverish chills. She was sick. The peril of their predicament returned with a fresh wave of fear. One glance across the shack to the door, to the dead wolf, to the blood now crusted brown, and the terror of the night crashed back through her. How could they survive another day? Or another night?”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“He leaned forward and tucked a blanket back around her feet. “When are you going to tell me about your striped socks?” “Why, Connell McCormick.” She gave a mock gasp. “Have you been peeking at my feet?” “I haven’t meant to. But there’ve been a few times—” “Few!” Again she pretended shock, but her smile gave away her playfulness. “So not only have you been peeking, you’ve made it a regular practice to glimpse under my hem.” “It’s hard to miss those bright colors—” “Come on. Admit it. You like seeing my ankles.” He poked at the fire and ducked his head. She gave a soft laugh. Pleasure from his obvious attraction wove through her like a sweet summer breeze. She shifted her legs and let the blanket slide from her feet again, revealing them once more. He glanced sideways for only an instant before focusing his full attention on the fire, prodding the logs and sending the flames higher—almost as if their lives depended upon how hot he could get them. She laughed again. A slow grin made its way up his lips. “Well, if you must know,” she said, “Oren’s wife, Betty, made them for me.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“What about you?” he asked, ready to take the focus off himself and his parents. “What kind of mom did you have?” She hesitated. Her hair was unraveled and lay in a glorious display of long dark curls around her face. The muscles in his hands tensed with the need to thread his fingers through the thick locks. Instead he grabbed his ax and poked the fire, sending more sparks flying. “I don’t remember much about my mother,” she said. He stared at the flames, trying to keep a rein on his thoughts about Lily. “She died giving birth to Daisy.” Her voice dipped. “I’m sorry.” He stilled and glanced at her again. Her forehead crinkled above eyes that radiated pain. “My father couldn’t take care of us, and for a few years we were shuffled between relatives. Until he got into an accident at work and died within a few days.” An ache wound around his heart. “After that, no one wanted us anymore. I suppose without the money my father had provided them, they couldn’t afford to take care of two more children—not when they struggled enough without us. So they dropped us off at the New York Foundling Hospital.” She paused, and he didn’t say anything, although part of him wished he could curse the family that gave up two girls with such ease. “We lived at the hospital in New York City until there was no longer room for us. Then we moved to other orphanages.” She turned to look at the fire, embarrassment reflected in her face. “I made sure they never separated Daisy and me. I kept us together all those years, no matter where we were. And finally we had the option of moving here to Michigan. They said families needed boys and girls. We’d get to live in real homes.” The grip on his heart cinched tighter. “When we got here, I thought I was doing the best thing for Daisy by giving her a real family to live with. The Wretchams seemed nice. They lived on a big farm. Needed some extra help—” “So you and Daisy didn’t stay together?” “There weren’t any families needing two almost-grown girls. But I consoled myself that it was only temporary, that we’d only be apart until I could find a good job and a place for us to live.” “That must have been hard on both of you.” “Letting her go was like ripping out a piece of my heart.” He wanted to reach for her, pull her into his arms, and comfort her. But everything within him warned him against even a move as innocent as that. “When I learned she’d run away from the Wretchams, she ripped out the rest of my heart, and it hasn’t stopped bleeding since.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“Hunger gnawed at Connell’s stomach. He handed Lily another slice of dried apple. “Come on now, one more piece.” She pushed his hand away. “I’m too tired to eat any more.” He’d managed to stuff half a loaf of bread, a few dried apples, and a wedge of cheese into his sack, enough to tide them over for one missed meal, but certainly not enough to sustain them long term. And now, after just one day, their supply of food was low, even though he’d rationed himself to the barest minimum. “You need to eat a little more,” he urged, kneeling next to her. “I’m not hungry.” “Bet you’d eat it if it were a cookie.” She managed a small smile. “Probably.” Worry gurgled with the acid in his stomach. She’d grown pale and listless as the day had worn on. “You eat it,” she said. “No,” he insisted, holding it out to her. He’d taken Oren’s rifle with him during one of his forays for firewood. But he hadn’t figured on finding any game. With the intensity of the storm, every living creature was holed up, safe and warm where it belonged—unlike them. Still, his stomach would have thanked him for a hare or even a squirrel. Lily finally took the brown, shriveled piece of apple. “You need it more than I do. And you shouldn’t have to suffer for my mistake.” “My mam taught me to take care of a woman’s needs above my own.” Her lips formed into another protest. “Besides, I wanted to help you,” he said. “I made the decision to come out here of my own free will.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“Is it time to go?” she asked, propping herself onto her elbow. He tugged up the collar of his coat and slipped his feet into his boots. Then he looked at her with a seriousness that sent a jolt of fear through her. “We can’t leave.” “Sure we can.” She pushed herself up but was immediately overcome by a wave of dizziness. “Even if you were up to leaving, which you’re not”—he nodded at her weak attempt at sitting up—“I let the horse go last night. It was her only chance of surviving. Hopefully she made her way back to the stable.” “We could walk—” “Not without snowshoes. The snow’s too deep and the wind too harsh.” She leaned back again, suddenly weary and cold. “Then we’re stuck here?” “Until a rescue party comes for us.” He pulled on his gloves. “Or until spring. Whichever comes first.” He gave a halfhearted grin at his attempt at a joke.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“Thank you for coming after me,” she said softly, her mind beginning to comprehend the magnitude of what he’d done and the risks he’d taken—even putting his own life in jeopardy—to find her. “I don’t know what I would have done without your help.” “You’re welcome.” A slow smile worked its way up his lips. The flames from the fire reflected on his face, highlighting his pleasure at her words. “After all the times I’ve had to bail you out of trouble, I have to admit, it’s kind of nice to hear you finally admit you needed my help.” “All the times?” “Yes, all the times.” His grinned widened. “Starting from the first night you stepped into the Northern Hotel.” “If I remember right, I didn’t do such a bad job taking care of myself.” A smile twitched her lips. “But I suppose if it makes you feel like a knight in shining armor, I’ll let you take the credit for saving me from doom.” “Oh, come on, admit it.” His voice was low and edged with laughter. “You know for a fact I’m your knight in shining armor.” Her heart swelled. “Since you’re forcing a confession out of me,” she bantered, “then yes, I admit you’re my hero.” Little did he know just how much he was winning her heart. “Well, then that’s settled.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“Are you warm yet?” He reached for the blanket and draped it across her. She couldn’t get her voice to work but instead watched him, wondering why he’d pushed her away so quickly, wishing she didn’t feel the sting of his rejection. He hovered above her as if sensing her hurt. His fingers lingered on the blanket, and desire flitted across his face again. “I’m sorry, Lily,” he said hoarsely, ripping himself away from her. He glanced everywhere in the small hut but at her. “You have to believe me. I wasn’t trying to take advantage of you. I was just trying to save your life. That’s why we were the way we were . . .” “It’s all right,” she whispered. He cleared his throat and reached for a piece of wood out of the pile next to the door. “I didn’t mean for things to get so . . . so intimate.” “It wasn’t your fault.” He’d only done what he’d had to. She couldn’t fault him in the least. He moved toward the fire, once again turning his back toward her. He added the log and used the blade of his ax to stir the coals. When he finally sat back, he’d put obvious distance between them. “I won’t take advantage of you, Lily.” Again his voice was hoarse with emotion. “It wouldn’t be right.” She grasped the blankets closer. She shuddered to think what could have happened if any other man had found her. And her heart swelled with gratitude that Connell was such a good man. “You’re an attractive woman.” His voice was almost a whisper. His words sent a fresh burst of warmth over her skin. He stared at the flickering flames, and the muscles in his jaw worked up and down. Finally he spoke. “My mam taught me that I’d show my admiration best if I used restraint and respect. She told me a woman needs to be cherished, not used for the pleasure of the moment.” Was he telling her he admired her?”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“Lily shuddered. The thick arms surrounding her pulled her tighter. She couldn’t make sense of where she was or what was happening. But then she lifted her eyes. Connell’s face was only inches away. His eyes were closed. Weariness creased his forehead. And his breath rose and fell with the steady rhythm of exhausted slumber. He’d come after her. For the first time in her life, someone had cared enough to rescue her. A surge of gratefulness rose up swiftly and brought an ache to her throat. She had the urge to lift her fingers to his cheek and brush the tips along the day-old scruff that had grown over his normally clean-shaven skin. At the crackling of the fire behind her, she became aware of the heat against her back and the fact that she was warm—something she’d thought would never happen again. From what she could tell, she was lying on the floor, bundled under several blankets with Connell, and wrapped in his arms. Her gaze dropped again to the view directly before her eyes, and her mind registered what it hadn’t before: Connell was not fully clad. He’d stripped off his shirt and trousers and wore only a wool union suit. Her body sparked with the acute reality that she was partially unclothed too, that Connell had taken off her dress and left her in only her camisole and drawers. She knew why. Her coat and dress had been damp from the snow. And of course, being the considerate man he was, he’d shed it to save her. And he’d discarded his garments to give her his body heat, to warm her frozen body back to life. But she sucked in a hiss anyway, knowing she was in a completely improper, indecent situation, and that she should move away from him as fast as she could. She was plenty warm now, and there was no reason to continue to lie next to him. She began to wiggle away, but then stopped. He was likely exhausted. If she moved, she would wake him. For an agonizing moment, she held herself rigid, the uncertainty and embarrassment of the situation paralyzing her.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“Another knock sounded at the door, this one louder. He strode across the room, and instinctively his hand slid to the knife sheathed at his rib cage. He cracked the door and peered into the hollow blackness of the hallway. Instantly the cold tip of a rifle rammed into his temple. “Where’s Lily, you worthless piece of pond scum?” Oren growled at him. “I haven’t seen her.” Connell shoved the rifle away and refrained from pulling out his knife. He wouldn’t. Not on Oren. “I thought she was going with you.” Oren lowered his gun and muttered several oaths under his mustache. “Isn’t she in her room?” Connell had been listening for the squeak of the floorboards, for the click of her door down the hall from his room. How had he missed the sounds? Oren muttered again. Cold fear jabbed into him like the sharp end of a pike pole. “She didn’t start off to Merryville on her own, did she?” “That’s what I’m afraid of.” Oren’s voice wavered, all bluster suddenly gone. Connell’s fear exploded into near panic. Without stopping to think, he grabbed the blankets from his bed and rolled them into a tight bundle. “What time do you think she left?” he asked, stuffing the bundle into one of his bags and then cramming in a pair of socks, his ax, and anything else he could find in his hurry. “I’m guessing she had no intention of letting me drive her,” Oren said. “She’s too impatient.” “So she got a sizable head start?” Oren didn’t say anything. But his silence spoke volumes.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“I’m hoping he comes back with a broken arm.” Oren packed a pinch of tobacco into the bowl of the pipe with his thumb. “Then I won’t have to be the one to break it when he finally gets up enough nerve to touch Lily.” “Oren!” Lily scolded through a smile. Good thing Oren didn’t know Connell already had touched her—even if it had only been brief. “I see the way that man’s been looking at you,” Oren mumbled, adding another layer of tobacco. “Even a blind man could see that he can’t keep his eyes off you.” Her inexperienced heart flushed with pleasure at Oren’s words. “Connell McCormick’s a good boy.” Vera wiped her arm across her forehead, brushing her frazzled hair into greater disarray. “I haven’t met too many boys as good as Connell.” Lily had to agree. She’d never known a man like Connell—someone so thoughtful and considerate. “All I have to say is he’s lucky I haven’t poked out his eyeballs yet for all the liberty he’s takin’ looking at Lily.” “He’s attracted to her,” Vera retorted, never afraid to give Oren the guff he deserved. “You can’t blame the boy. Lily’s probably the prettiest girl he’s ever laid eyes on.” “Well, ’course she is.” Oren packed a last layer into his pipe.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“I guess I’m left with only one option.” She spun out of the kitchen into the pantry. “I’ll have to be the one to go and get her.” She stomped toward the back door and banged it open. As she rushed outside, a gust of wind slapped her cheeks. “Where are you going?” Connell caught the door before it slammed shut, and he followed her outside. A hill of dark clouds had pushed in with the growing darkness. She pulled her coat tighter and started toward the front of the hotel, trying to ignore the long shadows of the evening that reached out to haunt her. “I’m heading to the Stockade to see if Frankie’s there.” “You can’t go up there by yourself,” he called after her. “I’m certain God would want me to do whatever I can to rescue the girl, even if it means going by myself.” She picked up her pace, and her boots sloshed through the muddy snow that remained after the past week. She made it only a half a dozen more steps before Connell’s hand gripped her upper arm and dragged her to a stop. “I won’t let you go.” He spun her around so that she had no choice but to face him. “How dare you? What right do you have to stop me?” She jerked her arm and tried to break away. But his hold didn’t budge. “I probably don’t have any right to stop you.” She tugged again, this time harder. “Then leave me alone.” He wavered, almost as if he would let her go, but then with a growl he yanked her against his body. The strength of his grip held her captive. But the hard width of his chest against hers and the nearness of his face—only inches away—held her in greater captivity. For a long moment she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think. The crashing thud of her heartbeat and the soft rasp of his breath filled the space between them. His gaze lingered upon her cheek, her chin, her other cheek before moving to her lips. Spring butterflies awakened in her stomach, and she couldn’t keep from studying his mouth, so close, so warm, so firm. But the boldness of such an inspection sent embarrassed heat through her, making her want to duck her head. “Lily,” he whispered. His eyes turned into a forest at midnight. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. I can’t let you go up to the Stockade. It’s too dangerous.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“What are you going to do?” Stuart kept pace with her. “I don’t know.” He grinned. “Sounds like my kind of plan.” “You should know my motto is to act first, think later.” “I think I’m beginning to catch on to that.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“If you dislike Michigan winters so much,” Connell said, “why did you move here? Why didn’t you stay in New York?” At least there she’d be away from wild lumber camps and towns. The sunshine in her face disappeared. She took a longer drink of coffee before looking at him. The heartache in her expression socked him in the stomach. “I wish we could have stayed. Then maybe Daisy wouldn’t have gotten herself into this predicament.” Her voice was soft. “If you find her, do you think you’ll move back?” “There’s nothing left for us there. No one who wants us. No one who ever did.” She spoke so low, he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. And he couldn’t help wondering what had happened to the rest of her family and how she had ended up with the cranky old photographer. “When I find Daisy—not if,” she said, her voice growing louder and ringing with the passion he’d heard before. “When I find her, I’ll never let her go. And I’ll give her the kind of home she deserves—finally.” He took a slurp of coffee, not quite sure how to answer her. If he did the math, he could come up with the slim percentage she had of finding her sister, especially alive. But he didn’t think she’d be too happy with the statistic. “I’m old enough now that I’ll be able to get a job and find a place for the two of us,” she said, looking him directly in the eyes, as if somehow she could convince him. “I’ll take care of her. We’ll make it this time.” He prayed she was right. But he had the gut feeling she was in for far more challenges than she expected. But who was he to contradict her and discourage her plans? He hardly knew her. In a few short weeks, she’d move on with Oren to another town and Connell would likely never see her again. And yet, down in the dark depths of her eyes, there was a spark that drew him in, a flicker of loneliness and longing, and it tugged on him, pulling him deeper. . . . And he was afraid”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“Oh, how can you say such a thing,” Lily cried behind him. He spun, surprised she’d followed him through the cookshack instead of waiting by the door. Her eyes widened with dismay. At the sight of Lily, Duff’s ambidextrous flipping came to a halt. He stared at her as if she were the first woman who had ever stepped foot in his kitchen. But she had fixed her big eyes on Connell. “With as little sun as we’ve had this winter, how can you possibly wish it away?” “Because we depend upon the ice and snow for production.” “You would begrudge us all the bright and beautiful sunshine so you can earn a bigger profit?” Was he destined to clash with this woman on every issue—even something as insignificant as the sunshine? He sighed and handed her the hot cup of coffee.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“I’m guessing this one is about a hundred years old,” he said. “Then it’s ancient.” He nodded. “If I’m lucky, I’ll get twenty thousand feet of board out of it. Twelve feet long by an inch thick. Good solid board.” She took a step away from him, her face a mask of shock. “What’s the matter?” “How could you even think about destroying this glorious, magnificent, beautiful tree?” For a long moment he could only stare at her, baffled. “It’s my job. What did you think we’re doing out here? Digging for gold?” “Oh, I know perfectly well what you’re doing. You’ll take all you can get from this land, and then you’ll leave behind a chaotic mess.” “We parcel off the land and sell it to farmers.” “You know that’s not happening.” “Maybe not everywhere.” She planted her fists on her hips. “I’ve traveled around enough of Michigan this winter to see what the land looks like after lumber companies pull out and head somewhere else.” “Oh, come on, Lily.” Exasperation tugged at him. “What would our country do without the supply of lumber we’re providing? If we stop our operations, we’ll deprive the average family of affordable means for building homes.” She arched her brow. “Affordable?” “Compared to brick homes? Yes.” She obviously didn’t know anything about the industry. “As a matter of fact, hundreds of thousands of people in growing midwestern towns rely upon our boards and shingles for their homes. And on the other products that come from these trees.” He patted the pine. “I don’t care.” She reached for the tree, caressing it almost as if it were a living being, trailing her fingers in the deep grooves of the bark. “These trees, this land—they don’t deserve to be ravaged.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“He had to admit, she was one of God’s finest creations. After watching her all morning—and all week, for that matter—he couldn’t keep from admiring the quickness of her smile, the sparkle in her eyes, and the pertness of her steps. His focus lingered on the loose curls dangling against her ear. With her head tilted back, the long expanse of her neck taunted him. The rich shade of her complexion and the smoothness of her skin reminded him he’d gone too long without the affection of a woman.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“Lily fought like a lynx caught in a steel trap. She scratched and bit and kicked with a force that took Connell by surprise. Her teeth sank into the sensitive flesh of his palm and forced him to let go. “Calm down, Lily. It’s just me, Connell.” The beginning of her scream died away, and she spun on him, her eyes flashing with fury. “Why did you sneak up on me like that?” “I didn’t mean to.” He brought his smarting hand to his mouth and sucked at the blood she’d drawn. “When you didn’t hear me approach, I thought I might startle you. And I didn’t want you to scream—a sure way to get every shanty boy in the camp to come running.” The tempest in her eyes turned into a low gale. He glanced at the teeth marks she’d left in his hand. “You sure know how to greet a fellow.” “And you sure know how to scare a girl half to death.” “Why exactly were you so scared?” “Because I thought you were someone else.” “And what if I had been someone else?” She paused, her pretty lips stalled around the shape of her next word. “Any number of the rough men from this camp could have followed you out here.” He’d seen the way the men were looking at her, how they hadn’t been able to take their eyes off her from the moment she’d arrived. “What would you have done then?” When she’d run off into the woods after the stupid cat, he’d had to yell at several of the men to stop them from chasing after her. “I would have screamed.” She pulled herself up to her full height, which he estimated to be five feet six inches. “Since apparently I’d get lots of attention that way.” “I’m serious,” he started. But then at the glimpse of the twinkle in her eyes, his ready lecture stalled. He stuck his aching hand into his pocket and pressed his wound against the scratchy wool. “I appreciate your concern,” she offered with the hint of a smile. “But I’m a much stronger woman than you realize.” She’d be no match for any of his strong shanty boys. “You were reckless to wander off by yourself.” He tried to soften his accusation, but he wanted her to realize the constant danger she was in simply by being an attractive woman in a place populated by lusty men. “I strongly suggest you refrain from doing so again—especially if you hope to avoid any further run-ins.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“How much for a picture with the girl?” one of the men called, nodding at Lily. Another man whistled and others chortled. Oren stiffened. He tipped up his derby, and his eyebrows narrowed into a scowl. “I’ve got two rules here today, boys.” Lily stifled a smile. She’d heard Oren’s lecture plenty of times. She could only imagine what he’d say if he found out about Jimmy Neil’s attack of the night before. He’d never let her go anywhere by herself again. Oren pulled his corncob pipe out of his mouth and pointed the stem at the men. “One—you keep your filthy hands off Lily, and I’ll keep my hands off your puny chicken necks.” Except for the rhythmic ring of hammer on anvil coming from the crudely built log cabin that served as a shop for the camp blacksmith, silence descended over the clearing. “Two,” Oren continued, “you keep your shifty eyes off Lily, and I’ll keep from blowing a hole through your pea-brain heads.” With that, he toed the rifle, which he always laid on the ground in front of the tripod. She saw no need to tell them Oren had never shot anyone, at least not yet.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“Well, well, if it isn’t the little spitfire herself.” Lily glanced up with a start and found Jimmy Neil standing two steps above her. A slow grin spread across his face, and the black gaps where he was missing parts of his top teeth seemed to stare at her. He’d leered at her several times that past week during the meals he’d taken in the dining room. But she’d made a point of ignoring him. And that’s exactly what she planned to do this time too. He moved one step closer, and the stench of the alcohol on his breath filled the space between them. He’d likely already been out at the taverns long enough to drink too much but would continue with the drinking as long as he was conscious. So why was he back at the hotel? “Ran out of money,” he said too softly, as if he’d seen the direction of her thoughts. “The night’s still young, and I aim to get my fill of women.” His eyes glistened with brittle lust. A man like Jimmy Neil didn’t deserve a response, not even the briefest acknowledgment that she’d heard his lurid words. She turned her head and pushed past him in the narrow stairwell. But before she could get by, his arm shot out and blocked her path. “Where you goin’ so fast?” “Get out of my way.” She shoved his arm, but it didn’t budge. She tried to duck under it, but he stuck out his knee. He leaned into her. The sickly heat and sourness of his breath fanned her neck. “Maybe I don’t need to go back out, not when I can have a little spitfire right here, right now.” She stifled a shudder and the shiver of fear that accompanied it. She might have broken free of him last time, but he was drunk now, and there was no telling what he was capable of doing. Better for her to play it safe. She spun and tried to retreat the way she’d come, but his other hand slapped against the wall, trapping her into an awkward prison within the confines of his arms. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere except up to my room with me.” He pushed himself against her in such a carnal way that she couldn’t keep from crying out in alarm. His hand cut off her cry, covering her mouth and smothering any chance she had at calling for help. A rush of fear turned her blood to ice. For an instant Daisy’s sweet face flitted into her mind. Was this the way men treated her sister? How could she possibly withstand such abuse day after day? As if seeing the fright in Lily’s eyes, his gap-toothed smile widened. “It’s always more fun when there’s some scratchin’ and clawin’.” His hand against her mouth and nose was beginning to suffocate her. She swung her head, struggling to break free and jerked up her knee, trying to connect it with his tender spot. But he was pressed too close, and he only strengthened his grip. She tried to scream and then bite him. But she was quickly losing strength in the dizzying wave that rushed over her. Suddenly his smile froze and fear flitted across his face. “Let go of her. Now. Or I’ll shove this knife in all the way.” Connell’s voice was low and menacing. Slowly Jimmy’s grip loosened. She caught a glimpse of Connell, one step down, his face a mask of calm fury.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“could always dance with Connell,” Vera said, following Lily’s gaze. It was Lily’s turn to feel embarrassed. “Oh no, I couldn’t.” “Why not?” Vera smiled, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “I’m sure Mr. Heller won’t mind playing another song. And I know Connell wouldn’t say no to the chance to put his hands on your waist and twirl you in his arms.” She wiggled, her insides blushing. She highly doubted Connell would want to twirl her. Connell lowered his head further into his book. “And don’t you dare contradict me, Connell McCormick.” Vera wagged her finger at the man. “What?” He sat up straighter and arched his eyebrows at them, as if it were the first time he’d noticed them in the room all evening. Lily smiled at the feigned innocence on his face. “Now, young man,” Vera scolded, “you’ve had your eyes on Lily all week. Don’t you deny it.” “I’ve been doing what I always do—sitting over here minding my own business and doing my work.” Vera shook her head. “You’re in trouble now, boy. I was going to give you a couple more cookies, but”—she pushed the plate of treats toward Lily—“now only Lily gets more.” The sugary sweet scent of the freshly baked molasses cookies had bathed the room, driving out the lingering acridness of burnt coffee. Lily had already indulged in several in place of the usual fare of beans and salt pork. She picked two more from the plate. “You’re a dear, dear woman.” Connell snorted. Vera’s lips twitched with a smile she was holding back. “That’s enough from you, young man. If you stopped all your nonsense, got up and danced with Lily like a real man, then maybe I’d give you the rest.” Connell sat up taller and eyed the plate that was still heaped with cookies. Lily wanted to giggle but hid the smile behind her hand. Then his eyes lifted to hers, the mirth within them turning the green into the same shade as summer leaves fluttering in a warm breeze. The warmth captured her and drew her in. For a long moment she basked in their private exchange of amusement over Vera’s audacity. But then the green of his eyes darkened and the jollity of his expression faded, replaced with a determination that sent Lily’s heart chugging forward like a locomotive. Without breaking his eye contact, he pushed back from his spot and stood. Would he really listen to Vera’s silly challenge to dance with her? Her heart picked up speed. Everything in his expression said he would—that he wanted to dance with her more than anything. Although she’d been in plenty of situations where she’d had to rebuff the advances of shanty boys, she’d never met one like this man—one she didn’t want to rebuff. Did she actually want his attention? A tingle of fright pushed her off the bench and to her feet. He stopped. “I’d best be heading up to bed,” she said, refusing to meet his gaze.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“Lily had to admit, she liked the way Connell McCormick peeked at her over the rims of his spectacles. From his corner spot of the deserted dining room, behind his stacks of books, he pretended to work. But she could feel his gaze upon her, tickling her, making her insides flutter. There was something about his intense green eyes and his attempts to hide his obvious fascination with her that warmed her and made her feel womanly in a way she hadn’t experienced before.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“Work?” Stuart grinned at him. “Since when do you actually do any work, you lazybones?” Connell forced a smile. “That’s true. I can’t work today, not after inhaling all of the deadly sock fumes last night. I’m still recovering.” The reserve fell away from Lily’s face, and a smile crept up her lips. “I would have thought breathing in the odor of dirty socks was like smelling roses to a shanty boy like you.” He stopped. Did she think he was just a regular shanty boy? Surely she could tell he wasn’t an ordinary man. After all, he was boarding in town instead of living at one of the camps. Stuart’s expression grew playful. “Yeah. Why don’t you put on your smelly socks and get out there and cut some trees, you tough old shanty boy?” For a quarter of a second Connell was tempted to explain who he was. He wouldn’t mind watching her eyes widen in awe when she learned that he was the boss man of three of the area’s largest lumber camps, the oldest son of Kean McCormick, one of the wealthiest lumber barons in central Michigan. Instead, he merely tossed her a grin before turning to leave. As much as he’d enjoy impressing Lily Young, he wouldn’t do it that way—not by boasting of his importance and wealth. If he was going to win her favor, he’d do it like a man. But of course he didn’t care about winning her favor. Not in the least.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“You shouldn’t be visiting the saloons by yourself,” Connell said. She pulled off her knit cap. “I didn’t hear you volunteering to come with me earlier.” “If I’d known you were going to march around to all the saloons, I would have offered to tag along.” Her curly hair tumbled down around her face and framed eyes that widened. “I have a hard time believing you’d tag along with anyone.” “Next time try me.” She hesitated and her eyes flickered as if she wanted to believe him but couldn’t. “For your information, I’ve been searching the dregs all winter, and I’ve been taking care of myself just fine.” Connell shook his head. “You’re just asking for trouble.” “I’m not afraid of trouble.” “I can see that.” He liked her spunk and her bravery.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“Just wanted to introduce myself,” Stuart continued, “and let you know that if you need any help—with anything at all—I’m the man for the job.” Her rich brown eyes were framed by lashes that were long and thick enough to sweep a man off his feet. And when she turned her attention upon Stuart, she seemed to do just that—sweep him off his feet and up into the air. “Well now, that’s mighty nice of you, Mr. Golden—” “Stu.” He regarded her like a puppy its master. Connell wished he were standing next to Stuart and could sock him in the arm. Of course, he couldn’t begrudge Stuart the attention of a woman, not after having lost his wife during the diphtheria epidemic that had ravaged Michigan back in ’80. Stuart had lost his son too, and for all practical purposes had given up on the baby daughter he’d handed to the care of his parents who lived down in Saginaw. If anyone deserved the company of a good woman, it was Stuart. Why, then, did the sight of him going soft over Lily irritate him?”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“Stuart muttered, “Why don’t you say something?” Connell wanted to, but his lips felt like they were frozen shut. He’d never been all that suave around pretty girls. And not only was this girl pretty, but she had enough spunk to knock a man off his feet—literally. Stuart jabbed his ribs with his bony elbow. “At least go over to her.” Connell couldn’t make his feet work either. Lily stepped into the street and headed in the direction of the next closest tavern. “You big chicken,” Stuart said under his breath.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion

“Or should I say, she’s why we’re out here.” Connell refused to give his friend the satisfaction of an answer. “Word’s going around town that she got the best of two big men last night. Jimmy Neil and another strong man, who happens to be standing in the middle of Main Street, ogling at her—” “I’m not ogling at her.” Connell looked far off to the south, to the puffs of black smoke billowing in the air, the distant signal that the train—a branch of the Flint and Pere Marquette Railroad—would make its daily appearance in Harrison. “And she didn’t get the best of me.” Stuart slugged him in the arm. The point of Stuart’s middle knuckle jabbed Connell hard enough to throw him off balance. Stuart wasn’t a big man. In fact, everything about him was thin. His face was a narrow oval covered with a scraggly beard. His arms and legs were as skinny as the branches of a sapling. If Connell hadn’t witnessed the man’s enormous appetite on occasion, he would have guessed Stuart wasn’t getting enough to eat. “Sounds like she’s got quite the spirit if she can get the best of you.” “I was rescuing her from Jimmy, and she fell on top of me.” “Rescuing?” Stuart gave a snort. “From the way I heard it, she did a pretty good job taking care of herself.” “No telling what could have happened to her if I hadn’t stepped in when I did.” Stuart laughed. “Okay, big guy. Whatever you say.”
― Jody Hedlund, Unending Devotion