Lily (Song of the River)

by Aaron McCarver

  “It looks to me as though she’s had no shortage of partners.” Blake stepped in front of her. He looked every inch the gentleman. Her gaze wandered from the high points of his shirt collar to the intricate folds of his necktie. His broad shoulders were razor straight in his black frock coat, and his striped silk waistcoat, blood red in color, gleamed richly in the light of the Cartiers’ ballroom.

  Lily realized something in that instant. He was as much a gentleman as Jean Luc Champney. More handsome in some respects than the polished Mr. Champney, although perhaps not as well traveled.

  That thought led to another. Where was Blake from? Had he grown up in the lap of luxury? He certainly looked comfortable in the trappings of the privileged. But he’d never spoken of his home or childhood. She’d never really thought about it. She knew absolutely nothing about her business partner beyond his current lifestyle.

  Perhaps if she accepted his invitation she could ask him about his past. “I believe you are right, Mr. Matthews.”

  His smile rewarded her acquiescence. Blake held out a white-gloved hand, and she placed her own in it. As soon as they reached the edge of the dancers, he swept her into his arms and swung her into the rhythm of a waltz. “You look lovely this evening.”

  “I’m afraid I owe Mrs. Thornton a substantial portion of our money in payment for the new dresses we bought for Jasmine, Camellia, and me.”

  “The expenditure is well worth it.”

  Had he actually complimented her? What a novel feeling. Lily’s hand tightened on his shoulder as she and Blake moved around the room. The other dancers disappeared from her consciousness until all that remained was the music and the look in his deep blue eyes. She felt as though she were floating away on a melody as seductive as the song of the river.

  Forgotten were the questions about his background. Forgotten were the warnings she had given her sister. Lily allowed him to pull her a tiny bit closer until only inches separated them. Until his mouth was so close he could lean forward to brush his lips against hers.

  Panic struck her. She pulled away to a more discreet distance, racking her brain for some subject to introduce. Anything to avoid falling under his hypnotic gaze again. “How is the work going on our boat?”

  His smile widened, as though he knew the real reason for her question. “Don’t fret, Lily. We should be able to leave no later than Tuesday or Wednesday.”

  “Have you found a captain yet?” She pursued the subject of business doggedly.

  “I think I have.”

  Didn’t he think she would want to know more about the man who would take them back to Natchez? “Tell me about him.”

  “I haven’t quite decided which one to hire, but Mr. Thornton has sent me a couple of excellent candidates. As soon as I check out a few more things and make my final decision, you’ll be able to meet him.” He hesitated a moment. “But remember your promise. The man I choose will be the man we hire.”

  She stiffened. “I haven’t forgotten.”

  “Good.”

  Blake executed two more intricate turns, each in the opposite direction, a move that had her head spinning. Lily had to focus on her feet to avoid tripping. She was so overbalanced that she hardly noticed when he swept her through one of the open french doors and out onto the veranda. The sound of the music faded, and his steps slowed, winding down until they were standing still.

  Lily pulled away from him and turned to face the manicured lawn. She took two steps forward, standing next to the low wall that ran along the outside of the dimly lit area. He didn’t follow her, and Lily was thankful he gave her time to catch her breath. She opened her fan and used it to cool her face. When she finally turned to face him, her breathing had returned to normal.

  Blake was leaning against the wall next to the french doors, watching her like a panther stalking its prey.

  Another sprinkle of gooseflesh erupted. Lily pulled her shawl over her arms to counteract the effect. “Where did you learn to dance like that?”

  “Along the river.”

  She moved a step closer to him. “That’s an evasive answer.”

  “Maybe I don’t like it when curious women pry into my past.”

  “When have I ever pried?”

  He pushed away from the wall. “I have to admit, you’ve managed to avoid it … up until tonight, that is.”

  Lily decided a softer approach was needed. “I don’t know anything about you, Blake, except that you’re a hard worker and a dependable partner. Oh, and that you like to play cards.”

  Blake looked over her shoulder at something in the distance. She began to think he wouldn’t say anything at all, but then he cleared his throat. “I left home after a disagreement with my father, and I haven’t been back since. It was tough making my way for the first couple of years. One of my earliest jobs was in Oakdale, a little town in Missouri. The owner of the Oakdale Inn hired me to muck out the stables, cut timber for firewood, and do whatever jobs he didn’t want to do.”

  Blake stopped and sighed, his gaze refocusing on her face. “It was a friendly little town without much to do on long winter days once the river froze up. The innkeeper and his wife opened up their dining room a couple of times a week and invited the locals to come for a party. They’d charge everyone a nickel to attend, even the men who brought their instruments and played for the rest. We’d sing and dance and have a good time.” He shrugged. “I may not know the right steps to every song, but I can move with the music.”

  Something about his attitude made Lily melt. Blake Matthews was vulnerable. Uncertain of his skills. She wanted to reassure him. In all their weeks of squabbling and bickering, he’d never seemed to be anything less than supremely sure of himself. Of course she’d had to mount her own defenses to keep him from riding roughshod over her principles. Had she missed other evidence of his real nature? She looked at him with new eyes. “You’re an excellent dancer.”

  He smiled, a slow, dangerous smile that set her pulse jumping. What he might have said was lost as another couple walked out onto the veranda. It was probably a good thing.

  Lily gathered her skirts and moved toward the french doors. “We should return to the ballroom. I really do need to keep an eye on Camellia.” She rushed back into the ballroom without glancing back, even though she thought she heard him chuckling.

  Blake didn’t dance with anyone else that evening, nor did she. But Lily found herself wondering what might have happened if they had not been interrupted. And wondering if she was glad or sorry that it had not.

  Chapter Thirty

  Blake awoke with a start and looked around at his unfamiliar surroundings. It took him a minute to remember he’d stayed in the Thorntons’ garçonièrre, the apartment their sons used when in town, which boasted a separate entrance from the main town house. The opulence of this family made him wonder if Lily was right. Maybe they could make more money shipping goods than gambling.

  He dressed in the change of clothes Jensen had insisted he bring. Smart man. He would have to tell him so when he returned to the Hattie Belle. He was eager to get some work done before the weather got too hot. A twinge of guilt reminded him his father would not approve of his working on the Sabbath. But he was no longer living under his father’s roof. He could decide for himself what to do with his Sundays.

  A knock on his door made Blake shake his head. So much for a quick exit.

  “Are you awake, Mr. Matthews?1” The voice belonged to Jonah Thornton, the young man he’d met at the ball.

  He went to the door and wrenched it open. “Yes, I’m awake.”

  Jonah blinked at him. He wore more casual garb this morning, making him look younger than ever. “Good. Mother sent a note saying we are expected for breakfast.”

  Wishing he’d awakened half an hour earlier and made his escape, Blake nodded. “I’ll be right down.”

  “We usually eat in the courtyard on Sundays.” Jonah tossed this information over his shoulder as he clattered down the stairs. “Don
’t be late or you’ll miss the croissants.”

  Blake grimaced as he combed his hair. How was he to avoid attending church with the Thorntons without raising a ruckus?

  He was the last one to arrive for breakfast, and the only place left was between Jasmine and David. He greeted everyone as he slipped into the chair.

  Lily was no longer dressed in the finery she had worn the evening before, but she looked lovely. Ethereal. She glanced his way and smiled. Her gesture warmed his belly. He could grow used to sharing breakfast in a family group like this one. If only his childhood home had been as warm, his life might have turned out very differently.

  A basket of croissants occupied the center of the table. Next to it was a crock of butter and a large platter of scrambled eggs. He started to reach for the basket but halted when Lily shook her head at him.

  Mr. Thornton had been reading a copy of the Picayune, but he folded it and set it next to his coffee cup. “Good morning. I trust you slept well, Mr. Matthews.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Excellent.” Mr. Thornton bowed his head, and the others followed his lead. “Father God, we thank You for the bountiful food and many blessings You provide. Please keep us ever mindful of Your grace and help us to live more fruitful lives because of Your example. Amen.”

  David reached for the croissants, took one, and handed the basket to Blake, who followed suit and handed it off to Jasmine.

  “It’s wonderful to have you back with us, Jonah.” Mrs. Thornton beamed at her son who sat next to Mr. Thornton. “I don’t know when I’ve been more surprised than when you appeared at Sarah’s party last night.”

  Jonah ducked his head. “Thank you.”

  Mr. Thornton stirred cream into his coffee. “Did you stop and visit with Eli on your way back down?”

  “Yes.”

  Silence fell at the table as everyone waited to see if Jonah would add to his brief answer.

  Lily’s gaze clashed with Blake’s. Did she want him to do something? What could he do short of kicking Jonah under the table?

  She sighed and broke eye contact before turning to Mrs. Thornton. “Is Eli your oldest son?”

  “Yes, he runs the Memphis branch of our business.” Mrs. Thornton’s eyelids fluttered as though she was holding back tears. “We don’t get to see him and his wife, Renée, as much as we would like.”

  Their host cleared his throat. “I hope he’s come to his senses and stopped spouting that abolitionist nonsense.”

  Blake could see Jonah’s irritation in the reddening of his ears. He hoped they were not about to be treated to a family disagreement. Positions on abolition, slavery, and states’ rights divided many families these days. The whole country, for that matter.

  Mrs. Thornton stepped into the uneasy breach. “We correspond regularly, but I still miss them.”

  “They are fine, Mother. They send their love.” Jonah’s shoulders relaxed as he smiled at her.

  Blake could feel the tension dissipating. Relieved, he glanced around the table, the hair on his arms rising when he caught the look of intense yearning on Camellia’s face. Did she fancy herself smitten with young Thornton? Of course she did. He was not fawning over her as the other young men had done last night. A girl like Camellia would find his disinterest irresistible. Blake wanted to groan out loud. They didn’t need any broken hearts on the Hattie Belle.

  Galvanized by his thoughts, he pushed himself away from the table. The sooner they could get back on the river and put physical distance between Camellia and Jonah, the better for all of them. “Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. and Mrs. Thornton.”

  “Don’t forget it’s Sunday.” Mrs. Thornton’s voice stopped him from leaving. “We’ll be meeting in the foyer as soon as everyone has a chance to put on their coats and hats.”

  “I’m afraid I won’t be joining you.” He looked away from Lily’s shocked expression. “I need to get back to work on the Hattie Belle.”

  Lily got up and moved toward him, putting a hand on his arm. “Please come with us. You’ve been working too hard as it is. And you may find you have more energy after you spend your morning at church.”

  What was it about her eyes that made him want to agree with everything she suggested? Before he could summon the strength to turn her down, Camellia and Jasmine added their pleas. It was less trouble to give in.

  He would go this one time. But as soon as the service was over, he would explain to Lily why he was so reluctant to darken the doorway of any church. She was a smart girl. She would understand once he explained it to her. And even if she didn’t, he was determined to refuse the next time, no matter what tactic she used.

  “I hope you girls will like our preacher.” Mrs. Thornton nodded to a lady in a puce dress and matching hat. “He is rather young, but what he lacks in age he makes up for in delivery.”

  “I’ll say he does.” Mr. Thornton winked at them. “Some of our female members have swooned when he gets caught up in his sermon.”

  “Father, don’t tell them such things.” Sarah walked over to them, resplendent in a gold-and-white-striped dress. A dainty matching fan dangled from her right hand. “If Pastor Nolan hears you, we’ll be asked to leave the church.”

  Lily’s smile widened at the look on Sarah’s face. “It would be the church’s loss.”

  “I concur.” A well-dressed little man walked toward them. He had a gentle smile topped by a thin mustache, hazel eyes under thick brown eyebrows, and carefully combed hair that was several shades darker than Camellia’s. “We couldn’t bear to lose our most dedicated families, no matter their opinion of the preacher.”

  Sarah and her parents laughed easily.

  The man bowed. “Silas Nolan, at your service.”

  “I’m sorry, Pastor Nolan.” Mr. Thornton stepped forward, still chuckling. “Allow me to present our guests, Mr. Blake Matthews, Miss Lily Anderson, and her sisters, Camellia and Jasmine.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His warm glance touched each of their faces. “And I promise to control my … energy. If the Holy Spirit allows, of course.”

  They all laughed at his self-deprecating humor. Lily liked him immediately. She turned to look at Blake and was surprised to see him looking so stiff. He was usually comfortable in any situation. Why should the friendly pastor disturb him so? Or was something else wrong? Was he hiding something from her about their boat? Had they run out of money? Had he not been able to find a captain?

  The questions continued distracting her as the Thorntons and the Cartiers introduced them to friends who had not been at the ball the previous evening. She tried to concentrate on remembering names and faces, but it was impossible with the nagging questions.

  As they entered the church, Jasmine grabbed her hand. “Are you okay, Sissy?”

  “Of course I am.” Lily glanced around to see if anyone else was listening. “I’m sorry, Jasmine. I guess I’m a little distracted.” She took a deep breath. Whatever might be wrong, she would find a way around it. For now she would concentrate on the present. She would enjoy the service and let God take care of the future.

  The sanctuary was a large rectangle with two rows of pews that were mostly filled. Abraham, Noah and his ark, and Joseph in his coat of many colors were depicted in stained-glass windows on one side of the room. Jesus in various stages of His life from the cradle in Bethlehem to the Resurrection was the subject of the opposite windows.

  Tints of blue, green, and red painted Blake’s face as he walked stiff legged beside her. The feeling of unrest tried to grasp her once again until Lily directed her attention toward the large cross that hung on the paneled wall behind the pulpit. Peace settled on her shoulders as she slid onto a pew next to Camellia. A peace she’d almost forgotten, a peace she needed as much as she needed air to breathe.

  The murmur of voices died away as the pastor strode down the aisle and bounded onto the dais in two quick steps. He led the congregation in several hymns, familiar songs that brought Lily a
great deal of comfort, especially when she heard Jasmine’s talented soprano and Camellia’s softer contralto joining the others.

  How blessed they were to have each other. She smiled toward her sisters and thanked God for keeping them together. No matter what the future held, Camellia and Jasmine would always know how much she loved them. As long as she was their sister, she would find a way to provide for them.

  The pastor read to them from the sixty-eighth psalm, one of Lily’s favorites. After the death of her mother and the desertion of her father, she had often turned to verse five. She traced the words in her Bible as he read them to the congregation: “‘A father of the fatherless, and a judge of the widows, is God in his holy habitation.’”

  When the pastor spoke of singing praises to God and rejoicing in His presence, a desire welled up in her to set aside more time for the Lord than she had been doing lately. As Pastor Nolan began the closing prayer, she concentrated on praising God to the best of her ability. She would start as soon as they got back on the boat. She would organize a Bible study. It would be good for everyone on board—crew and passengers alike.

  Feeling better about the future, she raised her head and gathered her things. It was so rewarding to attend church. She would make a point to be in port on Sundays as they continued traveling the river. It was the best way to fulfill her most sacred duty to her sisters and ensure they were rooted in the faith necessary to sustain them throughout their lives.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Blake intended to make a quick exit as soon as they got back to the Thorntons’ town house. He had endured enough for one day.

  The sermon had been unnerving—especially the part about God being Father to the fatherless. He wasn’t fatherless. But sometimes he thought that might be better than having a father who ignored the needs of his family. What about children who had to escape their fathers in order to thrive? If God condoned that type of fatherhood, he wanted no part of it.