Lily (Song of the River)

by Aaron McCarver

  Captain Henrick looked up, a serious expression on his weathered face. “Before I get started, I think you should know how proud I am to stand up here. When my … employer asked me to talk to you this morning, I thought she was joking.” Several chuckles came from the audience. “I’m not a preacher, but the Good Book says you don’t have to be to talk to others about God. You only have to be willing. I thought about that and how I want to serve God. Then I thought you might like to hear about how an angry old sinner like me came to be a believer. So I went back to the passage that the Lord used to get my attention.”

  He opened his Bible and began reading. “‘ To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified.’”

  He bowed his head. “Dearest Lord, we come to You today with hearts full of thankfulness, hearts full of love and devotion. And for those among us who are struggling or grieving or lost, I ask that You fulfill Your promise to give them ‘beauty for ashes.’ Thank You, Lord, for listening. Please pour out Your Spirit on us today. Amen.”

  A rustling swept the room as the listeners settled in for the sermon, but to Blake’s ears it sounded different. The hair at the back of his neck stood up. He had heard of the Holy Spirit, of course, but he’d never put much stock in such things. He wanted to look around, see if some ghostly mist floated in the air behind him, but he resisted the impulse.

  “I remember the first time I read this scripture.” Captain Henrick’s face was relaxed. “I was in a deep, dark hole. I had done a terrible thing, for which I could not seek forgiveness.” He looked over the crowd. “Some of you may be feeling the same way this morning. Some of you may think you can never seek the Lord.”

  Captain Henrick’s gaze settled on Blake. What did the man think he’d done that was so awful? Blake thought back over the years since he’d left home. He hadn’t been so bad. He’d never killed anyone or stolen anything. He squared his shoulders and stared back at Lily’s father, his sympathy gone. What did Captain Henrick know about anything?

  “I was lying in the ashes of despair. I mourned for things from my past. The heaviness described by the prophet Isaiah weighed heavily on my spirit. But God reached out to me. And I stand here today as a testament to His power. I am a different man. I have the peace promised by Jesus. My life is filled with beauty, with the oil of joy, and the garment of praise.” Captain Henrick stopped speaking. He closed his Bible.

  “Now you may be tempted to seek His blessings just as I was. And I encourage you to do so. But be warned. It doesn’t stop there. Your life will become something beautiful and glorious, but that’s not the end of it.” He opened the Bible again and flipped a couple of pages before continuing. “Listen to the second part of this verse. ‘That they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified.’”

  The captain lifted his face up toward the ceiling. “We’re not on earth to make a decent living, or to marry and start a happy family. Those aren’t bad things, but they are things of this world. They are things we should never see as our goals. We’re here to glorify our Maker. He has planted us here for His purpose.”

  Captain Henrick’s lips turned up in a smile of the purest joy Blake had ever witnessed. “Think of it. The Master of all, the glorious Creator, the mysterious I Am. He created you and me to glorify Him through our righteousness. What more wonderful task can we have?”

  Blake felt himself caught up in the joy of the captain’s sermon. He almost felt the touch of God. He glanced at Lily. Her face was also lit as though from within. She had it, too. Intense yearning swept him. He wanted to feel what they felt. He wanted the joy of knowing God, of living for a higher purpose. The need was so deep and consuming that it nearly brought him to his knees.

  But reality seeped in. He couldn’t do that. He didn’t deserve such a future. It was probably a sham anyway. His own father had been a preacher. Blake knew better than to fall for the empty promises of religion. He would be better off if he’d never given in to the impulse to listen to Lily’s father this morning. It would have been a better use of his time to have stayed in bed.

  The voice in Blake’s head drowned out the rest of Captain Henrick’s testimony. He had no need of the emotional flood the man’s words could cause. He needed to keep his feet on the ground. Keep working hard.

  He and Lily were making a lot of money. Soon one of them would be able to buy out the other. Then they could go their separate ways. He wouldn’t have to worry about her prickly morals, and she wouldn’t have to fret about his talent with games of chance. All he had to do was keep his focus on the real world, the one he knew so well.

  He bowed his head when the others did, his gaze trained on the floor. The yawning jaws of a trap seemed to open at his feet, a snare to deceive those who felt unable to rely on themselves. He refused to fall for it.

  Ignoring the dull ache in his chest, Blake followed the others out of the dining hall after the closing prayer. He promised himself he would never submit to another church service.

  He ignored Lily’s glance and headed toward the engine room. He could not afford to be swept away by pretty words and fake sentiments. Someone on board this boat needed to keep a cool head.

  Chapter Fourty

  Lily stood at the rail as Captain Henrick skillfully navigated them into the dock at Natchez, her mind full of all they needed to do. If the temperature continued to drop, she’d have to ask Tamar to pack warmer clothes for their next trip. Maybe she should learn to pack for herself. Maybe it was time to stop relying on a slave.

  After the cargo and passengers had been off-loaded, she went to find Blake. A fruitless search around the lower floors led her to the hurricane deck. She heard his voice before she saw him. He and the captain were talking.

  Not wanting to be accused of eavesdropping, she raised her hand. “Hello there.”

  Both men turned toward her.

  “Do you need something?” Blake asked. “I thought you would have gone to your family’s home by now.”

  “I had an idea I wanted to discuss.” She hugged herself. It was even colder on the hurricane deck due to the wind. “It’s about David.”

  Blake excused himself from her father and stepped toward her. “Is he causing a problem?”

  They walked down the stairs side by side. What would it feel like to walk hand in hand? Suppressing the image, Lily cleared her throat. “No, of course not. David couldn’t cause a ruckus if he tried. But he seems more withdrawn lately. Do you have any idea what’s bothering him?”

  Blake shook his head. “Have you talked to him?”

  “I thought I’d ask you to. He seems to look up to you.”

  “That’s just because I’m a foot taller than he is.”

  A laugh gurgled up Lily’s throat. “Stop teasing. You’re like a big brother to him. Jasmine told me his father left to search for gold in California. She said he’s certain his father is going to return for him someday.”

  They reached the third floor, empty except for the crewman cleaning the guest rooms. Although the port was as busy as ever, a hush seemed to envelop them.

  Blake’s expression had grown serious. “I’ll talk to him.”

  Lily put a hand on his arm. “Thank you. I appreciate this, especially since you never wanted to take him aboard in the first place.”

  “He’s been a good companion for Jasmine.” He stopped and cleared his throat. “And I have to admit I’ve grown fond of him, too.”

  Was it her imagination, or had Blake’s cheeks darkened? She squeezed his arm. “Thanks.”

  Whenever they returned to Les Fleurs, it seemed to have grown smaller. Perhaps it was because Lily had rediscovered how huge the world really was. She smiled at Tamar, who seemed a bit distracted. “I think your mind must still be back on the Hattie Belle.”


  Tamar grimaced. “The longer I’m away from that man, the better.”

  “What man?” Jasmine’s gaze moved from Lily to Tamar and back.

  Lily shook her head. “I’ll not tell any tales. If you want to find out, you’ll have to ask Tamar.”

  Jasmine’s eyes widened. “Who is it, Tamar? Is someone courting you?”

  Tamar groaned. “Now why would you say such a thing to Jasmine? You know she’ll badger me day and night.”

  “Jasmine, you are not to bother Tamar with her private business.” Lily hoped her command would control her youngest sister’s curiosity. Attempting to distract her, she broached a different subject. “Do you think Camellia has a suitor?”

  Jasmine moved next to her sister. “She may have a whole line of them.”

  “I hope not.” Lily chuckled at the picture Jasmine’s words conjured. Wouldn’t the butler be amazed if he answered the door to find not one or two, but a dozen suitors? She would brook no argument from Camellia this time. All three of them would go on the next trip.

  Grandmother was sitting on the front porch when the carriage pulled up. As soon as she recognized them, she gave a glad cry, stood, and hurried toward them with widespread arms. “I’m so happy to see you. We were worried something might have happened when you didn’t return yesterday as planned.”

  Lily emerged from the embrace and smiled at the older woman. “You shouldn’t worry so. You know we cannot always adhere to a schedule.”

  “I know, but I will always be concerned for your safety.”

  Jasmine dashed inside and ran upstairs as Lily and Grandmother followed more sedately. Their happy reunion turned bittersweet as Lily realized Grandmother was probably thinking of the daughter she’d lost to the river.

  As soon as she settled her grandmother in her usual chair, Lily sat on the sofa and arranged her skirts. “Is Camellia home this afternoon?”

  Grandmother shook her head. “She’s out riding with a few young people. That girl has turned into a social butterfly.”

  The door opened, and Aunt Dahlia entered the room, her head high, a sour look on her face. “I see the wanderers have come home.”

  Lily decided to ignore her aunt’s bad mood. “It’s nice to see you looking so well this afternoon.” She supposed a lukewarm welcome was all she would ever receive from this woman. And why? Because she had not been interested in the one suitor they had presented? Or was it because she was afraid they would drag the family into scandal? Whatever, it didn’t excuse her catty behavior.

  Grandmother intervened. “Lily was just telling me about her wonderful crew, giving me a most marvelous idea.”

  Lily’s stomach twisted in a knot.

  “How long are you planning to stay with us, dear?”

  “Several days, maybe as long as a week.” Lily didn’t go into all the details. Besides work on the boiler and pistons the captain wanted to see to, Blake wanted to help David find information about his parents, and she wanted to give David every chance to reconnect with his father.

  “Oh good, then we’ll have time to plan a casual evening.”

  “Whatever are you talking about?” asked Aunt Dahlia.

  Grandmother looked more animated than Lily had seen her since Grandfather’s death. “Not a party, mind you. We don’t need music or dancing, but we would all enjoy a nice dinner.” She paused, beaming a smile toward Lily. “We’ll invite Mr. Matthews and your new captain and any other of your business associates. It will be a chance for your family to meet the people who have helped make your venture successful.”

  Lily blinked several times as her mind spun.

  “Well, what do you think?” Grandmother’s question was directed at her. “Would you rather schedule it for Thursday or Friday evening?”

  “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.” Lily shuddered as she imagined her family’s reaction if Captain Henrick Anderson showed up at their front door. Grandmother would probably faint dead away, Uncle Phillip would throw him out on his ear, and Aunt Dahlia would use him as an excuse to keep Camellia and Jasmine from returning to the Hattie Belle.

  “I agree with Lily.” Aunt Dahlia frowned. “We don’t need to advertise the fact that your granddaughters and my nieces are living on a riverboat instead of attending finishing schools.”

  Although she was much too old for finishing school, Lily did not argue with her unexpected ally. Part of her wanted to defend their lifestyle, the experience they gained by visiting other ports and being exposed to the world of business. Lily hoped she was giving her sisters knowledge they would need to make their own way in the world, but she stopped short of expressing her thoughts. Stopping her grandmother’s plans was more important.

  “You’re being absurd, Dahlia. Everyone knows what Lily and her sisters are doing. We live in much too close a society for something as big as their life on the river to be kept secret.” She turned back to Lily. “I think it would be a delightful evening.”

  “I appreciate the offer, Grandmother, but I doubt whether Captain—” She bit off the word as she realized using even his first name could raise questions she didn’t want to answer. “Whether the captain or Mr. Matthews would enjoy themselves.”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  Breathing a sigh of relief that no one seemed to catch her gaffe, Lily twisted her hands together. She had never foreseen the problems she would face in hiding the captain’s identity. The desire to be done with the subterfuge warred with her wish to avoid further confrontations with her family. She had never been—and did not want to become—good at lying.

  Grandmother continued to make suggestions. “Why don’t you ask them, Lily? If they say no, I’ll drop my idea. But they would probably love to meet your family and spend time with us.”

  Knowing how impossible it would be to convince her grandmother that her plan was an invitation to disaster, Lily decided to avoid further discussion by simply putting her off. “I’ll ask them the next time I’m down at the dock.”

  Her grandmother’s eyes lost their luster, and for a moment Lily almost relented. But she needed to keep her heart from misleading her. Delaying a confrontation was the only course to take. Eventually Grandmother would forget her impulse to meet the men.

  “I can send them a message if you’re not going tomorrow.” Grandmother glanced toward her writing desk. “It wouldn’t take but a moment. And you can stand over my shoulder to make sure I don’t say something that would offend them.”

  Another crack formed in Lily’s heart. “Don’t go to any trouble. I’m sure I’ll see both of them in a day or two.”

  “I want the whole world to know how proud I am of you, Lily. You’ve done something remarkable. You’ve made your own way in the world. That’s an accomplishment we can all appreciate, can’t we?” She glanced past Lily to Aunt Dahlia.

  “Of course.” Aunt Dahlia’s confirmation lacked the ring of truth.

  Lily wasn’t surprised by her aunt’s lackluster response. She raised her chin a bit. “Thank you, Grandmother. I’ll let you know what they say.”

  If the captain was any other man, this moment would be filled with unalloyed joy. The acceptance of her family—her grandmother at least—meant a great deal to Lily. But the truth about her father threatened to leech all the pleasure from her grandmother’s accolades. She could never let her relatives meet him. Not if she wanted to avoid a disaster that could completely shatter her relationship with her family.

  Chapter Fourty-one

  Jean Luc regarded himself in the mirror, noting with satisfaction the way his hair had been combed toward his face. Combined with the close fit of his coat and the expert twists of his cravat, his appearance epitomized a fashionable gentleman of means. He practiced a wide smile. What female could resist such a handsome fellow?

  Lily Anderson. His dimples disappeared. Why did the single woman he needed to woo seem impervious to his charm? At least when he’d called on her at Les Fleurs, she had agreed to dine with him this evening.
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  He pulled on a pair of gloves and left his bedroom, his mind still chewing on the problem of how to win Lily’s affections. Nothing he’d done so far had been very successful. Steenberg had been an absolute disaster, and she and that Matthews fellow had hired a full crew complement before he could suggest someone who would report to him.

  Jean Luc considered his plans for their evening. He would take her to the same dining establishment they’d visited before. But this time he had secured a quiet table in a secluded corner. Candles and a fresh flower arrangement would decorate the table, a romantic touch that should impress Lily.

  It was a pity she eschewed alcohol, as a glass or two of bubbly champagne would probably put her in a more convivial mood. But perhaps the bottle of effervescent springwater he’d secured would be equally salutary.

  He climbed into the family carriage, the conveyance he’d chosen so he wouldn’t be distracted by the traffic, and planned what he would say to Miss Anderson on the way to town. He would need to compliment her looks, of course, tell her she was the most charming, witty companion, that he felt honored by her agreement to spend an evening with him. All the things ladies yearned to hear.

  His arrival at Les Fleurs was enthusiastic. He sat and chatted with Lily’s grandmother, aunt, and uncle while he waited for her appearance. She entered the room, and he stood, allowing his smile to widen as he caressed her with his eyes. He moved toward her, bowed, and kissed her hand. “You look especially beautiful this evening.”

  As he straightened, Jean Luc saw that Lily’s cheeks had reddened. It was a pity she was not a beauty. There was nothing really wrong with her looks, but her face was a little too plain. Her hair was a nondescript brown, and her eyes were about as lovely as a mud puddle.

  Perhaps if she wore a color other than black. He recalled the first time they’d met, when she’d been dressed in something white and frilly. Perhaps when she emerged from mourning, she would look better.