Lily (Song of the River)

by Aaron McCarver

  Jasmine reached out for Lily’s hand. “Of course we will, Sissy.”

  Lily sent a quick prayer heavenward. Her gaze met Tamar’s sympathetic one. Lily couldn’t wait to get back on the river. Even dealing with Captain Henrick and the likes of Mrs. Carlyle would be pleasant in comparison to her relatives’ homilies.

  As they topped the hill, she spied a man on horseback, waving in their direction.

  It was Jean Luc Champney. A smile teased the edges of her mouth. She reached forward and tapped on the shoulder of the hired driver to get him to stop.

  “Hello,” Jean Luc said as he pulled his horse up next to the carriage. He swept a bow. “How wonderful to see you.”

  “It’s nice to see you, too.” She could feel the weight of her sisters’ gazes on her. Were they shocked that someone so handsome had sought her out?

  Camellia peeped at him from under the brim of her hat, but Jasmine was more open in her perusal.

  “I trust your first voyage was successful.” His dark eyes never strayed toward Lily’s more handsome sisters.

  “Yes, it was.” Lily’s cheeks heated under his intense scrutiny.

  “Excellent. Perhaps you will have dinner with me so I can hear all about it.”

  She nodded. “I would like that.”

  “I’ll call on you this afternoon.” With a second bow, he resettled his hat and cantered away.

  “I think you have a beau.” Camellia’s voice sounded petulant.

  Lily supposed she was not used to having anyone ignore her. It was a novel experience for Lily, too. “Monsieur Champney has been very kind to me. I bought our boat from his father, you know. I think he just wants to help us succeed.”

  Why did all three of them look at her with varying degrees of surprise or pity? Lily stared at the countryside as the carriage began moving forward. Once again she felt she was being told she didn’t understand the world around her. Maybe they were the ones who didn’t understand things. They had not been at the dinner she and Jean Luc had shared. Nor had they been with them when he took her out to the boat—well, at least Camellia and Jasmine had not.

  “How long will we be staying at Grandmother’s home?” Camellia asked.

  “No matter how long our visit is, it will be too long for me.” Jasmine crossed her arms.

  “That’s no way to talk about your relatives.” Lily frowned, and Jasmine sat back against the seat cushion with a thump. Lily turned her attention to Camellia. “I doubt we’ll spend more than a day or two.”

  “A day or two?” Dismay colored both sisters’ words.

  “Can’t we stay a little longer?” asked Camellia.

  Jasmine shook her head in disagreement. “I don’t want to spend the night there. It’s so much fun on the Hattie Belle where we’re not cooped up inside all the time.”

  “We’ll be off as soon as we get another shipment. I am hoping to head north this time, toward Memphis.” Lily tucked several loose strands of hair behind her ear.

  “Really?” Jasmine bounced to the edge of her seat.

  Tamar put out a hand to stop her from tumbling to the floor. “Settle down, Miss Jasmine, before you hurt yourself.”

  “Yes, do settle down.” Camellia aimed a disdainful look at her.

  Lily sighed. Was she being fair to her middle sister? While Jasmine thrived with the easygoing lifestyle aboard their boat, Camellia was eager to abandon it. Every time they landed, she wanted to disembark immediately and delayed going back until Lily forced her to return. Yet what else could Lily do? She was determined not to let her sister grow too self-absorbed.

  The carriage turned into the drive leading to Grandmother’s house. Lily should feel excited, but she couldn’t summon much enthusiasm. Like Jasmine, she wished she were back on the Hattie Belle, floating on beloved muddy waters.

  Blake glanced at the floating island of boats lashed together for the night. Men moved from deck to deck, cooking, laughing, playing cards. He wanted to join them, but that wasn’t possible. Not tonight. He had more important duties.

  Blake turned to the interior of the boat. It was far too quiet aboard the Hattie Belle, as though the departure of Lily and her sisters had removed all the joy and laughter.

  He wondered how she was faring with her family. Were they welcoming or rebuking her? Of course she would be able to handle herself no matter how her relatives treated her.

  He loved the way she was so optimistic, so eager to embrace life on the river. It no longer mattered to him that her vision of that life was so different from the gambling salon he had imagined. He was rather enjoying himself. He might even try a little fishing during their next cruise.

  He opened the door of the cabin he shared with David. The boy was lying on his back in bed, his textbook spread across his chest. A warm feeling filled Blake’s chest. It didn’t seem too long ago that he was the one falling asleep at his lessons. Affection wrapped itself around his heart. Who would have thought he would so much enjoy the role of older brother? He was glad Lily had insisted on letting David stay on board. Another of her policies that had proven to be right. Blake shook the boy’s shoulder. “David?”

  A grumble answered him.

  “Wake up. You need to get out of those clothes.”

  David rubbed his eyes and pushed himself up.

  Blake rescued the textbook before it could slide off to the floor. “I suppose you were absorbing the information in here straight through your chest?”

  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  Blake loosed a smile. “That’s all right, David. We’ll work on your studies together tomorrow.” His smile disappeared. His father had said the same thing to him once upon a time. And had helped him the next day as promised. Why hadn’t he remembered that before? Had he only clung to the unhappy memories? Unable to deal with the emotion his thoughts stirred, Blake shut them out and concentrated on helping the younger boy find his nightshirt and climb under the covers.

  The light in the room was fading quickly now that the sun had set. He bid David good night and stepped back into the passageway. He wished Jensen had not gone into town. He needed a distraction this evening, something to keep his memories at bay.

  “Where are you going?”

  Blake stopped in midstride and turned to face Captain Henrick. “I thought you went to Natchez with the rest of the crew.”

  “No.” The older man shook his head, a smile wrinkling his weathered face. “I’m a bit old and staid to enjoy the kind of … ah … distractions that interest the others.”

  “With all the storytelling going on out there?” Blake pointed his head toward the deck. “I’m sure you could keep a group well entertained with stories of Mike Fink or some of your own adventures. A man who’s seen as much of the river as you must have a host of stories in his knapsack.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s not the same as spinning yarns for the little ones.”

  Blake raised an eyebrow. “You sound more like a father than a river captain.”

  “I am, son. Or at least I want to be. But it seems the good Lord hasn’t removed all the obstacles in my path even though He had to be responsible for leading me back to my girls.”

  The man’s statement raised several questions in Blake’s mind. “Are you interested in explaining what you mean?”

  Captain Henrick shrugged. “I suppose. Seems you have the time to listen.”

  Instead of returning to the deck, Blake nodded toward the dining room. He’d never heard Lily tell the story of why she and her sisters had been raised by their grandparents rather than their father. He assumed her mother was dead. Surely no woman would desert her beautiful daughters voluntarily. But how had this man made the decision to walk away from his children?

  Blake had grown to care deeply about all three of the Anderson girls. He couldn’t imagine abandoning them … and he was not their father.

  They sat at one of the empty tables. Captain Henrick leaned forward, placing his forearms on the tabletop. “What do
you want to know?”

  “Everything.”

  “That’s a tall order.”

  Blake sighed and leaned back against his chair. “Okay, why don’t you start with what happened between you and Lily?”

  “There’s a tale.” Captain Henrick’s brown eyes darkened. “It’s not an easy story to tell.” He sighed, seeming to steel himself to face something unpleasant. “I fell in love with Rose Blackstone. She was such a lovely, delicate, cultured young lady, but somehow I still managed to secure her affection. We married even though her parents never approved of me. Rose joined me on my boat. What a wonderful life we had.”

  He stopped as if reliving the early days of his marriage. “Then we had our first daughter, my Water Lily. She was a little sailor from the time she could walk. Her mother and I always took her with us on our trips. Then came pretty-as-a-picture Camellia. If you wonder what the girls’ mother looked like, gaze on my second-born child.” He sighed. “I have no doubt she’ll lead some poor man on a merry chase. She never took to living on the river like Water Lily. She was scared of everything—the noises, the smells, the strangers. Traveling as a family grew harder, and her grandparents offered to keep her for us. It seemed like the right thing to do back then, but I’m not as sure now.”

  Blake nodded. He knew how much perspective was gained when one looked back. He would change several of his choices if he could. “It’s better to concentrate on the present and plan for the future instead of spending too much time reliving the past.”

  “That’s true. But it’s also important to remember the past, or we run the risk of making the same mistakes over and over. I only wish I’d had more wisdom back then.”

  They sat in silence. Blake didn’t want to push the man. He’d learned that patience often yielded better results. He crossed one leg over the other and waited.

  The captain finally continued. “When my sweet Rose told me she was in the family way a second time, I knew we’d outgrown our boat. But we had managed to put some money aside, and we used that to purchase a bigger boat. One that would accommodate our children and hopefully bring us more income. After a few more years, our little Jasmine came. Violet eyes and a fluff of hair as dark as midnight. She looked just like a miniature I once saw of her grandmother, Miss Violet.”

  A faraway look and wistful smile softened his features. “I could hardly believe we had three girls who were so different in looks and temperament. You must have seen the differences—my headstrong Lily, my comfort-loving Camellia, and joyful, exuberant Jasmine. I’m truly blessed to have three such wonderful daughters.”

  “Then why did you leave them?” Blake’s question blurted out as though shot from a cannon.

  “I had no choice.” Captain Henrick’s eyes were moist. His face showed pain. “The summer after Jasmine was born, Rose and I decided to leave the children with her parents while we traveled upriver. We didn’t know a flood was bearing down on us. It hit during the middle of the night, the river rose twenty feet in minutes. Our boat didn’t stand a chance. It was ripped free of its mooring and thrown into the main current.”

  The man halted, untying the scarf from his neck and using it to dry his eyes. He cleared his throat. “We broke up on something—a rock or snag. I never saw it. We were dumped into the water and tossed around like bits of flotsam. At first Rose and I clung to each other, but the water ripped us apart. My sweet wife drowned—” His voice broke.

  Captain Henrick shook his head. “When I found her body, I wanted to die. And when I got back to Natchez and told her parents what had happened, they wanted me dead, too.” His gaze lifted.

  The pain in his eyes made Blake’s gut twist. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Me too, son. That was the darkest time of my life. I didn’t understand why God would allow such a terrible thing to happen. Why would He take Rose from her husband and daughters? Why didn’t He take me instead? Rose and the girls would have been much better off. Mr. and Mrs. Blackstone would’ve made sure they never had to worry about finances. Rose probably would have married again. Everything would have been better. If He thought it necessary to take one of us, He made a mistake in taking Rose and leaving me.”

  Blake nodded. He could understand questioning God. He’d done enough of that himself.

  “Old Mr. Blackstone told me that he and his wife would raise my daughters, give them every luxury, every opportunity. At first I refused to consider his offer, but finally I agreed. Then he told me he thought the children would adapt better to their new lives if I stayed away. What was I supposed to do? I was a riverboat captain without a boat. I couldn’t take three children with me. We’d starve. It seemed the final proof that God cared nothing about us.”

  Blake looked away from the captain, suddenly wishing he’d never asked the man about his past. He sensed he was not going to enjoy the rest of the story.

  “Over the next few years I wandered from port to port. I did things that bring me shame now. I was lost and angry. I picked fights with men who’d done me no wrong, anything to exorcise my rage. Strangely enough, that’s what may have saved my life … and my soul.”

  Exactly as Blake had feared. And from an unexpected source. He might have been prepared for a sermon from a preacher, but not from this old gentleman whom he’d considered kindly and harmless. Blake wanted to push back from the table, but something held him still. Some macabre impulse. Rather like not being able to resist looking toward a dead body caught in a river snag.

  “One night more than a year ago, I met a man who stabbed me during a fight and left me for dead. A preacher got me to a doctor. Between them they kept me alive. The preacher shared his rooms with me. While I was recovering, he had a captive audience. I’ll never forget the afternoon when he asked me why I wanted to die.”

  “I’m certain you had an answer.” Blake shoved his chair back. “And I’m sure it was a good one. But I don’t have time to listen tonight.”

  Captain Henrick sat back. The look that crossed his face was not condemning. It wasn’t even sad. The expression was one of understanding. He nodded at Blake. “I see.”

  “I doubt that.” He stood and stalked to the door. “You don’t know a thing about me, so don’t go acting like you do.”

  Blake stomped onto the deck. A group of men sat around a small fire on a nearby boat. Close enough so he could keep a watch on the boat and be ready if David needed something. He headed toward them, eager to drown out Captain Henrick’s words.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Ashamed of his response to the captain’s story, Blake got up early the next morning and fixed breakfast. Soon the aromas of fresh coffee and bacon filled the air. As the sun made its first appearance over the horizon, Jensen, Captain Henrick, and David showed up. Blake scrambled a small mountain of eggs and sat at the table with the others.

  Silence reigned as they dug into their food.

  Blake washed down his food with a gulp of hot coffee and turned to face the captain. He was determined to clear the air. “Look, I’m sorry for interrupting you last night.”

  Captain Henrick waved away his apology. “When the time is right, you’ll listen. There’s no doubt God is whispering in your ear. He wants you to come to Him.”

  David’s eyes widened. “Did you have a fight?”

  Blake brushed a hand through the boy’s blond curls. “Nothing to worry about. Captain Henrick and I get along fine, don’t we?” He shot a glance at the captain.

  “That’s right.” Captain Henrick smiled. “In fact, I’m hoping we’re going to be very close.”

  Nodding, Blake forced a smile to his face. He bent a look at the captain that he hoped spoke to his desire to talk to the man alone. They still had a few things that needed to be straightened out. Things that had nothing to do with religion.

  “Let’s get this food put away, and then you and I need to spend some time checking how much of that textbook you managed to absorb last night.”

  Jensen began gathering the dirty di
shes and moved to the galley. Captain Henrick headed upstairs to the hurricane deck. Blake and David went to the dining hall to study. Blake hoped he remembered enough about arithmetic to help the boy.

  David seemed a bit lost, so Blake pulled out his deck of cards, hoping Lily would not catch him again and accuse him of teaching the children to gamble. He thought by now she should have a better idea of his moral code, but he’d just as soon not test that theory.

  “A deck has fifty-two cards.” He shuffled the cards and dealt them facedown on the table. “I’ve dealt four hands on this table. Without counting, can you tell me how many cards should be in each hand?”

  David’s brow gathered as he tried to reason out the answer.

  “If I had dealt two hands, how many cards would be in each hand?”

  “Thirty?”

  Blake shook his head. “You’re guessing. What is half of fifty-two?”

  David scrunched up his face, his mouth moving as he divided the number. “Twenty-six?”

  “Are you guessing or telling me?”

  “I … I’m telling you.”

  Blake nodded. “You’re right.”

  The smile on David’s face was a joy to see.

  “That’s good.” He tapped a finger on the table. “So how many cards are in each hand here?”

  Another frown from his pupil. “Thirteen?”

  “I think you’re beginning to understand.” He picked up one of the hands and fanned the cards before laying them down. “Now if there are four suits in this deck, how many cards will be in each suit?”

  “Thirteen.” David’s answer was more confident.

  “You may have found a new way of studying.” He picked up the cards and shuffled them once more. “I’m removing twelve cards from the deck, so how many cards will be left?”

  They continued drilling—adding, subtracting, multiplying, and dividing. When Blake felt his student had grasped the subject, he sent David for the slate he and Jasmine shared. “Write your name.”

  He watched as David meticulously copied out the five letters of his first name, hesitated, and looked up. “I don’t know how to spell Foster.”