Lily (Song of the River)

by Aaron McCarver

  Nor did he want any part of the discussion sure to come about how wonderful the pastor was and how inspiring his sermon had been. Eager to escape the cloying atmosphere, he tapped a foot as the others chatted together in the front yard of the church.

  The sun was beginning to warm the air. Prickles of sweat trickled down his back, making him long for the deck of the Hattie Belle. Would their infernal talking never end? Blake’s jaw was so tight it ached.

  Finally Lily walked over to him. “Is something wrong?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Nothing much.”

  A frown appeared on her brow. “Why am I not convinced?”

  “I have no idea.” He nodded toward the Thorntons. “How much longer do you think they’ll be?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Why? Do you have a pressing engagement?”

  “Do you have to control every aspect of my life?” He kept his voice low to avoid drawing attention. “Can I not have some tiny corner of my life that is safe from your prying questions?”

  Her face paled, and Blake wanted to kick himself. When had he become the kind of man who attacked women?

  “I–I’m sorry, Blake. I didn’t realize. …”

  “No, I’m the one who’s sorry.” Reaching for her hand, he tucked it into the crook of his arm. “I’m hot and hungry, and I’m taking it out on you. It’s not your fault.”

  Sorrowful brown eyes stared at him, looking into his very soul. “Apparently it is.”

  “No.” He took a deep breath. “As soon as we get back to the house, I’ll tell you about it. You and I have very different backgrounds. Perhaps it’s time for us to sit down and talk. Maybe if I explain a little of my past, you’ll understand better why we don’t always see eye to eye.”

  “I’d like that very much.” The color had returned to Lily’s cheeks. She looked around for Camellia, Jasmine, and David. The Thorntons appeared to have finished their conversations. “Let’s start back.”

  As they walked, Blake tried to organize his thoughts. He wanted Lily to understand enough to leave him alone about certain things. He didn’t want to risk repeating this day. Nor did he want her nagging him about going to church. He was never going to be a churchgoing man. Once he explained why he was so reluctant to attend, he hoped she would acquiesce and leave him out of her religious nonsense. It wasn’t too much to ask. He’d given way in so many things since they became business partners, surely she would yield once she knew the truth.

  When they returned to the Thorntons’ town house, Camellia, Jasmine, and David went to their rooms to change clothes before lunch, but Blake and Lily hung back, explaining that they had business to discuss.

  “Business?” The lilt in Mrs. Thornton’s voice made Blake want to groan. She was raising questions he’d rather avoid. He and Lily did not have any romantic feelings for each other, but if he protested, those in the foyer would begin to share her suspicions. The way Lily’s cheeks reddened, they might anyway.

  He raised one eyebrow. “Yes, the repairs are winding down, so we need to prepare for our voyage back to Natchez.”

  “I see.” Mr. Thornton looked from his wife to Blake before shrugging and turning to the staircase. “We’ll see you shortly.”

  Blake opened the parlor door and motioned for Lily to precede him.

  She sat down on the sofa, removed her hat, and waited for him to begin.

  Unable to sit, he swung his arms back and forth a few times. Where to start? “I told you I left home years ago, and I’ve never been back.”

  She nodded.

  “What I didn’t tell you is that my father is the reason I left.” He hesitated. “My father, Reverend William Matthews.”

  Her eyes widened. “Your father is a minister?”

  “Yes, that’s right.” He could hear the bitterness creeping into his voice. “And he’s a cold, uncaring man who thinks the word Christian is a synonym for tyrant.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Blake considered what he should tell her. The back of his throat burned in reaction to the memories. How could he share such things with anyone, even Lily? “I don’t want to drag you through all the sad occurrences from my childhood, but suffice it to say that my sister and I had to sacrifice every comfort for the sake of my father’s religion.”

  “What did your mother say about your father’s treatment?” Her voice was a blend of sympathy and caring.

  Lily’s question touched on another sore point. “Not much. She was a ‘good Christian,’ the perfect submissive wife as defined by Paul.”

  She said nothing, apparently digesting his statements. “Was there no one you could turn to? Grandparents? Cousins? People in the church?”

  “None of our relatives lived close enough to know what was going on.” He shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “As for the church, who wants to challenge a preacher? A man called by God to lead the flock? They must have felt it would be blasphemy. At any rate, no one crossed my father. No one but me, that is.”

  “Is that why you don’t like going to church?”

  Relieved at her quick understanding, he nodded. “I went this morning because it seemed so important to you, but I was not at all comfortable.”

  “I’m sorry for whatever pain your father caused you, but perhaps you should forgive him for his past deeds. To hold on to your bitterness only hurts you.”

  “You think I should forgive him?”

  Her nod felt like a betrayal.

  Would anyone stand up against his father other than himself? Could no one else understand what he and his sister had gone through? He turned from her, not wanting her to see how much her suggestion hurt him.

  “You should not condemn all pastors or all churches because of your experiences.” Her voice was gentle, but her words struck his heart with the explosive impact of a bullet.

  Lily didn’t understand what it had been like. Why was that? She was intelligent and caring. Why could she not understand the pain and anguish he’d been through?

  Pushing back his pain and anger, Blake took a turn around the room. Perhaps logic would appeal to her. “I’ve been doing fine without going to church for all these years.”

  “You may think you’re fine, but that’s only because you believe you can rely on your own strength. It’s not enough, you know.”

  He stopped pacing to look at her, his jaw slack. “What an odd opinion coming from one of the most self-reliant ladies I’ve ever met.”

  Her head dipped in acknowledgment. “I thank you for the compliment.”

  Blake wondered if it occurred to her that he might not have meant his statement as a compliment. Some men—most men—thought self-reliance was not necessary for a lady. Women were supposed to depend on the strength of their husbands, fathers, or brothers. Lily had none of those to rely on, but it didn’t make much difference.

  “You should know that God is the source for my strength.”

  “I see.” He raised an eyebrow. “So that’s why you spend every Sunday in church?”

  A hint of color appeared in her cheeks. “Whenever possible. I know my sisters and I have not been as faithful in our Bible studies or prayer life as we should be, but we’ve been rather busy.”

  Heat began to rise in his chest. “So you should attend church and read your Bible only when it’s convenient?”

  “At least I don’t spend my leisure time at gambling halls and cabarets.”

  How dare she judge him? “No, you spend your leisure time spending money on clothing and dragging your family and friends to parties. If you were truly moved by the Spirit, wouldn’t you be spreading the Gospel instead?”

  “I certainly am not perfect—”

  “That’s one thing we agree upon.” He couldn’t resist the chance to bait her. If he kept her on the defensive, she’d have no time to attack him.

  Her chin wobbled. Was she going to cry?

  Remorse overcame him. “I’m sorry, Lily. I was only teasing.”

  She turned h
er head. When she faced him again, her expression was composed. “At least I don’t fidget and fuss the whole time I’m listening to a sermon.”

  “I agree that I’m not a good Christian, Lily. So why don’t we leave it at that? All I’m asking is that you consider my feelings. Show me the courtesy of letting me decide how and where I spend my time.”

  “If the only reason for attending church was to sing hymns and listen to a sermon, I might be able to do that.” She stood and crossed the room, stopping directly in front of him. “But the reason is to draw closer to the One who made you, the One who loves you, the One who wants you to turn your life over to Him.”

  She looked so lovely standing in the light from the parlor window, her gaze earnest. Something inside him wanted to agree with her. Then sanity returned. Lily didn’t know what she was talking about. She’d been raised in the lap of luxury. Buying a boat was the action of a spoiled child who was determined to live her life in opposition to the wishes of her family.

  Lily was typical of the type of women he usually steered clear of—the reformers who wanted to save the world. She would never understand how someone could twist religion to suit his own needs. She had never seen the harsh realities he had experienced. Not that he would wish that on anyone, but he wanted to get his point across to her. She needed to stop trying to reform him.

  He steeled his heart. He had to put a barrier between them or she would never give him any peace. “You can dress it up any way you wish, Lily, but this is really just another attempt to direct my life.”

  She stepped back, a frown crossing her face.

  Realizing he was finally getting through to her, Blake continued. “I’ve never met a woman who was so determined to control every action and thought of everyone around her. You may own fifty-one percent of our boat, but you don’t own any part of my private life, and I’ll thank you to stay out of it.”

  Blake left her standing there. He knew he had to get out of the room before he recanted every word he’d just said.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Jasmine stuck out her tongue at Camellia, who promptly glared back.

  “Please don’t argue. We don’t have time for it.” Lily folded her nightclothes and placed them in the trunk. She had allowed the younger girls and David to sleep while Tamar helped her dress. After making sure Camellia was packed, they made short work of getting David and Jasmine ready for their departure, which was slated for noon.

  Blake had sent a note the evening before, the only contact she’d had from him since their argument two days earlier. The message had been brief and businesslike.

  We have four first-class passengers, eight deck passengers, two new crewmen, and a captain. Will leave dock at noon sharp.

  He hadn’t signed the note, apparently in too much of a hurry to waste time with niceties.

  “I don’t want to go.” Camellia’s steps dragged as they descended the staircase. “Can’t I stay with the Thorntons?”

  “Of course not.” Lily frowned at her. “We’re sisters. We belong together until the day you fall in love and get married.”

  Camellia made a face and continued her slow progress toward the dining room. Jasmine seemed more eager to face the day’s adventures. She bounded down the stairs like a rubber ball. By the time Camellia and Lily made it to the breakfast table, Jasmine was already seated and had filled her plate with preserves and a flaky croissant.

  “I cannot believe it’s your final morning with me.” Mrs. Thornton offered a sad little smile. “I’m going to miss all the energy and excitement you’ve brought to our home.”

  “Yes, we will.” Mr. Thornton folded his newspaper and reached for his coffee.

  “I could—”

  “We’ll miss you, too.” Lily interrupted Camellia’s statement, kicking her under the table in warning.

  Camellia sent her an injured look but subsided.

  The rest of their breakfast was uneventful. David joined them, as did Jonah. When they had eaten their fill, Mr. and Mrs. Thornton called for their carriage.

  David rode up front next to the driver. Lily and her sisters settled on the comfortable seats inside the carriage and waved at their hosts until they could no longer see them.

  “Where is Tamar?” Jasmine asked.

  “She went ahead with our trunks and some food the Thorntons sent.” Lily’s explanation eased the concern on her youngest sister’s face.

  Camellia slumped back against the velvet carriage cushions. “I wish we didn’t always have to leave.”

  “Would you rather stay here without me and Jasmine?”

  Camellia shrugged. “You could stay, too. Mrs. Thornton said she wished we would.”

  “She is a dear friend, Camellia, but she is not our mother. We cannot impose on her.”

  Lily tried to keep the hurt out of her voice. She knew the desire to accept Mrs. Thornton’s unconditional love, to revel in the warmth of their home. But it wasn’t the Hattie Belle. It wasn’t home.

  Blake’s accusation came to the forefront of her memory, and she lifted her chin. She wasn’t determined to control everything and everyone. She just wanted her sisters to be happy.

  When they arrived at the boat, pleasure filled Lily’s heart at the sight of white decks, black smokestacks, and the red-edged paddle wheel. The mighty river rushed beneath their feet as they crossed the gangplank.

  Lily wondered where Blake was. She dreaded seeing him, but there was no way around it. They were partners and likely to remain together for quite some time.

  David, Jasmine, and Camellia went inside, but Lily lingered on the first-floor deck. She wanted to see the repairs, check for herself that everything was shipshape.

  Smiling a little at the pun, she heard footsteps on the deck above her and looked up to see Tamar and Jensen strolling together. Deep in conversation, they didn’t see her. Lily was about to greet them when Jensen leaned forward and brushed a finger across Tamar’s cheek. Was a romance blooming between them? Was Tamar falling in love? How wonderful that would be. The two of them could be married on the Hattie Belle. They would have a pastor come aboard and perform the ceremony. She couldn’t think of a more beautiful setting.

  Smiling, Lily crept away to give them privacy. She was about to search for Blake when she heard his voice coming from the boiler room. Following the sound, she discovered him talking to someone, probably a new crewman. He wore a red shirt reminiscent of the clothing captains used to wear in the wild days when flatboats and canoes were the only vessels on the Mississippi. Her father had often talked of the red shirts, the larger-than-life characters who carved out livelihoods before steam-powered engines made them obsolete.

  Pushing away the memory, she bent her lips into a welcoming smile. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

  Blake jerked as though he’d been shot and turned toward her. Circles darkened the skin under his blue eyes. “Hello, Lily.” He looked tired, and she got an impression of vulnerability.

  A gasp from the other man drew her attention. She looked toward the stranger and noticed his face had gone pale. Was he ill? She took a step forward, ready to catch him if he fell over. “Are you all right, sir?”

  His mouth opened and closed twice before he managed to make a sound. “Water Lily? Is it really you?”

  She gasped and grew faint. “Father?” The two syllables spun out from her mouth for what seemed forever. To stop herself from fainting, Lily took several deep breaths. Then she balled her hands into fists and turned back to Blake. “What have you done?”

  Blake looked from Lily to the man he’d recently hired. “What’s going on here?”

  “I can’t believe you did this,” Lily hissed. Her brown eyes blazed.

  “Calm down, Water Lily.” The captain held up both hands. “You don’t have to fly off the handle. We’ll figure everything out.”

  “Don’t you call me that.” She pointed a finger at Captain Henrick. “You may be my father, but you don’t have any right to call me that.”
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  Realizing he needed to defuse the situation before something went terribly wrong, Blake stepped between Lily and the older man. “I don’t understand. I thought your father was dead. Didn’t you tell me you and your sisters were orphans?”

  His words seemed to hit her like a bucket of cold water. The fiery sparks in her eyes dimmed. Her cheeks reddened. She seemed unable to look at him. Her gaze focused on the floor. “It doesn’t matter what you thought. I won’t allow him to remain on board for another minute.”

  “Oh no, you don’t. We have an agreement. I spent a great deal of time and energy finding someone we can depend on. Captain Henrick is the best of the lot. No matter what you say, he’s taking us to Natchez.”

  Lily shook her head. Her face hardened into a look of belligerence. Blake wondered if he’d ever met a more stubborn woman.

  “I can leave.” The quiet voice reminded Blake that he and Lily were not alone.

  “You stay put.” He didn’t bother to look at the man. The real problem was the persnickety, demanding, unforgiving woman in front of him. “I don’t care if he’s the first cousin of President Buchanan, he’s staying on this boat.”

  When she looked back up at him, fire had returned to her brown eyes. “This is the man who deserted me and my sisters. We couldn’t depend on him then, and we can’t depend on him now. If you think we had a bad captain before, I can’t wait to see your reaction when he jumps ship because a better offer has come along. And then we won’t see him for another decade.”

  “I don’t want to cause trouble, Wa—Lily.” The captain pushed his way past Blake’s shoulder. “I didn’t realize this was your boat when I agreed to take over. I can understand your reluctance to have me here.”

  Lily crossed her arms over her chest and raised her chin.

  Before she could reiterate her position, Blake needed to point out a few things to his business partner. “If he leaves now, we won’t have anyone to take us to Natchez. Our paying customers are going to demand a refund so they can purchase tickets on a boat that will leave the dock as advertised. Be reasonable, Lily. There’s not much chance he’s going to desert us between here and Natchez.”