Lily (Song of the River)

by Aaron McCarver

  Fighting off the blackness that threatened to overtake him, Blake realized he’d been ambushed. The floor rushed up to smack him in the face, and the light became a dark chasm into which he fell … and fell … and fell.

  Chapter Fourty-nine

  Jean Luc worried when he noticed Blake leaving. He glanced at a clock above the fireplace mantel. Steenberg should be through by now. At least he hoped so. He should have been done an hour ago. Blake would find nothing more than anonymous destruction.

  Taking a deep, steadying breath, he moved toward Lily. Perhaps she would be more cordial now that her business partner was gone. He had noticed how her gaze followed every step the gambler took. He had never dreamed the two of them might have more than a business partnership.

  Were they lovers? He rejected the idea. They had half a dozen chaperones on the boat. And he was experienced enough to know that Lily was still a wide-eyed innocent. He walked to where she stood talking to her grandmother. “May I have the pleasure of a dance with you, Miss Anderson?”

  She glanced around before nodding. Was she looking for an excuse to turn him down? The polite smile on her face held little warmth as they moved to the center of the ballroom. They stood facing each other, waiting for the orchestra to begin.

  “Your family must be pleased with the number of guests in attendance this evening.”

  Her smile warmed a fraction. “Yes, especially Camellia.”

  He looked to the pretty blond who was laughing and flirting with a group of young bucks. “You do not mind her popularity?”

  “Of course not.” Lily’s brown gaze returned to him. “She’s my sister. I love seeing her so happy.”

  Jean Luc realized he had offended her … again. A sigh filled his chest, but before he could begin an apology, a disturbance at the entrance to the ballroom claimed his attention.

  A man had pushed his way past the servants. He stood swaying in the doorway, his clothing ragged.

  “What’s going on?” Lily began moving toward the man, her concern showing on her face.

  Jean Luc followed her, as did most of the other people in the room. As he drew closer, he heard two words that struck fear into his heart. “Blaze … steamship.” He gasped as realization flooded his mind. Steenberg had set the Hattie Belle on fire! He knew it! On the heels of his thought came remorse. What had he done?

  Several of the women fainted, falling gracefully into the arms of the nearest men.

  Jean Luc fought his way through them to a white-faced Lily. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of this.”

  He didn’t stay to see her reaction. What she or anyone else thought was secondary to his need to stop this disaster. He’d never meant for the boat to be destroyed or for anyone to die. All he’d ever wanted was to get his boat back and regain his father’s approval.

  As he tried to mount his horse, the enormity of Steenberg’s actions pressed against Jean Luc’s shoulders, threatening to pin him to the ground. He finally managed to struggle into the saddle, desperation strangling him as he pushed the horse to a gallop. The Hattie Belle could not be destroyed. If the stern-wheeler was lost, he would never be able to earn redemption.

  Blake tried to raise his hands to rub his aching head, but they were trapped at his side. What had happened? Why wouldn’t his arms work? He struggled before realizing he was bound. Panic filled him before he managed to push it back. He needed to assess the situation.

  Thinking back, he remembered the party at Lily’s home, then boarding the Hattie Belle … and a bright light in the galley. He must have surprised another gang of thieves. They had attacked him and tied him up.

  The floor swayed, telling him he was still on the boat. But where were the guards? And Jensen? Had they been overcome, too? Were they tied up in another part of the boat?

  He pushed himself up, feeling much like an inchworm as he used the wall behind him for leverage. The stench of lamp oil burned his nose and throat, making him cough.

  The noise must have brought one of his attackers closer. “I see you’re awake.”

  He opened his eyes at the sound of the familiar voice. Standing over him was a recognizable figure, although he looked worn and bedraggled. “Steenberg.”

  The former captain laughed. “I told you I’d get even with you. I’ve been busy while you were taking your little nap.” He set down his lantern.

  Blake looked around to see if any of the other men were in the room with him. They weren’t. Only he and Steenberg occupied the storage room. He poured all his energy into getting free of the ropes holding him. “I am guessing that … you take your orders from Jean Luc.”

  Steenberg’s laugh died. “Jean Luc Champney doesn’t control me. I just use his pocketbook to finance my future. He’s got no idea what I’m planning to do to you and your boat.”

  Blake could feel one of the ropes loosening. He redoubled his efforts. If he could keep Steenberg talking until he could get free, he could overcome the man without much trouble. “Where are my men?”

  “They’re tied up and taking little naps of their own, but my plans have changed since we overpowered them.” Steenberg pushed against a cargo barrel, toppling it with a loud crash. His smile returned. “One of my men gagged them and took them to the train station so they couldn’t raise a ruckus. They’ll be found in a few hours, but by then everything will be over.”

  “You’ll never get away with this. And I’ll make sure you never work on the river again.”

  “Those are some mighty fine words for a fellow who’s not going to be alive much longer. Don’t worry about me.” The former captain stuck his thumbs in the waist of his pants and pulled in his stomach. “I’ve been bleeding Jean Luc for months now, doing jobs he’s too soft to do himself. Even if someone suspects me, I can make a run for it. I’ve got enough money to leave this stinking town and never come back.”

  “Enjoy your freedom while you can.” Blake gritted his teeth against the pain caused by his efforts to free himself. “I’ll have the sheriff after you like I should have done in New Orleans.”

  The other man’s grin didn’t fade. He strutted around the tight space. “I knew that the minute I saw you. That’s why I had to make new plans. You see, Jean Luc gave us orders not to destroy his precious boat. I went along because I didn’t really care if we broke a few windows or blew the whole boat up, but everything changed when you walked in on us. Now I’ve stoked up the boiler and jammed her shut. She’s already hissing like a bunch of alley cats.”

  His words struck fear in Blake’s heart. Boiler explosions were the most deadly cause of accidents on the river. Worse than sandbars, snags, or even floods. When a boiler blew, the force was enough to throw fiery chunks of the boat hundreds of feet into the air. Then like lava from a volcano, the burning debris rained down on everything around. It was every river boatman’s worst nightmare. For a moment he forgot his plan to escape. His cough returned.

  “Yes, the smell is rather strong in here.” Steenberg pushed over another barrel, and it crashed to the floor, spewing out its load of flour. “That’s because we’re going to set your boat on fire.”

  His threats brought Blake’s mind back to earth. He couldn’t afford to panic. “That sounds a bit redundant.”

  “I can’t take the chance someone will arrive in time to stop the explosion.” He pushed at Blake’s leg with the toe of his boot. “You see, I don’t like jails. And I’m not planning to spend any time in one.”

  The ropes around him refused to give. Could he talk Steenberg into loosening them? He coughed again. “Could I have some water?” Was that pitiful voice his?

  Steenberg considered his request before shaking his head. “Don’t you worry, though, it won’t be long before your thirst is gone. I’d guess it’s about time to put you out of your misery.” He kicked over the lantern and walked out, leaving the door to the outside open.

  His position in the room gave Blake a limited view of the sky, which was still as black and featureless as his wint
er cloak. He coughed again as the flames took hold and smoke began to rise around him. As the futility of the situation became apparent, his will to live bled away. He was going to die.

  Anguish overtook him with the acknowledgment. Why now? So many things remained that he wished he had done, so many things he had yet to do. Was this all there was to life? Was he to end his life as the victim of a bloodthirsty crook? Did a man struggle and fight against the odds only to find himself facing death with no hope of redemption?

  Sorrow and fear filled the empty spaces in his heart as Blake came face-to-face with his mortality. What was about to happen to him? Would he live on in some other form? A vision of hell rose up through the flames surrounding him. Why had he not repented when there was time? Why had he resisted the One who wanted to save him from eternal destruction? Why hadn’t he realized the importance of faith until it was too late?

  The flames licked higher, greedily consuming the space around him. Smoke wrapped its tendrils around him, choking out the air he needed to breathe, choking out all other considerations.

  Blake slumped over as the heat intensified, regrets spinning away as death claimed him.

  Chapter Fifty

  Lily ran to her father. “We have to get to the river.”

  “I’ll go. You stay here.”

  She refused to be left like some addled debutante. “I might be able to do something to help. You’re going to need every able-bodied person you can muster, or every boat docked is liable to be lost, including ours.”

  He hesitated before nodding. “I’ll get the buggy while you change out of that dress. But if you’re not ready by the time I am, I’ll leave you here.”

  Knowing his words were no idle threat, Lily pushed her way past their guests. Many of the men had already departed or were awaiting their carriages outside—not surprising since most of them depended on river traffic for their livelihoods.

  Careless of the spectacle she might make, Lily took the steps at a dead run. When she reached her room, she jerked her skirt around so she could see the buttons and worked her way through them. Then she had to untie the ribbon holding her hoops to her waist. When she was finally free, she quickly donned one of her work skirts. The gray bodice would have to stay as Tamar was not here to help her and she could not reach the buttons.

  She scurried back down the staircase, ignoring the raised eyebrows of the other women. Camellia was one of them, bless her heart. But her sister had always been much more concerned with her appearance than Lily. Perhaps that came with being a beauty. If so, Lily was glad she was plain.

  She ran to the stable, relieved to meet her father at the door. “I’m ready.”

  He held out a hand, and she pulled herself into the buggy. She was hardly seated before he whipped up the horse and they raced down the drive toward the river. It never took more than a few minutes to get to town, but tonight the ride seemed to last forever.

  As they headed down the steep hill to the waterfront, her heart climbed into her throat. She could tell the Hattie Belle was on fire. Where was Blake? Was he one of the men tossing buckets of water into the flames?

  Her father urged the horse faster, ignoring safety in his haste to reach the boat. He didn’t pull up until they were almost on the men. Her gaze frantically searched their faces and figures, but she could find no sign of Blake. He must still be on the boat.

  She leaped to the ground and raced to the gangplank, her father only a few steps behind her. At least the whole boat was not on fire yet, but it would burn to the waterline if God didn’t provide a miraculous downpour.

  Lily squinted, trying to see anyone through the billows of smoke. Then she caught a glimpse of someone in a dark coat. He was dragging something out of a room. Was it Blake? She knew almost instantly it was not. She could make out his dark hair, but his head was a different shape and his shoulders were not wide enough. He turned his head to cough, and she recognized him. “Jean Luc, what are you doing?”

  “Get out of here.” He coughed and turned again to pull at whatever he was dragging.

  She and her father moved forward. Her eyes were streaming from the smoke, but she recognized Blake when they reached Jean Luc’s side. He was bound in ropes and unconscious. Blood stained his face close to his hairline. He looked so pale she feared he might be dead.

  Horror slammed through her at the thought of what Jean Luc had done to Blake. “Let go of him!” She tried to push Jean Luc away.

  “Stop it, Lily. Do you think I’m the one who hurt him?” Jean Luc’s dark gaze showed pain. “I’m trying to get him to safety.”

  “The two of you will have to work together.” Her father stepped between them, his voice calm. “I’ve got to see about getting this boat out into the channel before it sets fire to everything docked here.”

  Lily’s fear diminished a little because of his unruffled demeanor, but then the implications of his strategy hit her. Her father wouldn’t survive if he stayed on the boat. “You can’t do that, Papa.”

  “It’s going to take all three of us to get Blake to safety.” Jean Luc’s voice was scratchy from exposure to the smoke.

  Papa looked from Blake to the water. He nodded. “I’ll come back as soon as we get him to the gangplank.”

  They tugged as a team, and Lily wondered if they were hurting Blake. But it didn’t matter at this point. Ending up with broken bones was better than being burned alive. The smoke thickened as they moved toward the front of the boat. One step … pull. Another step … drag. She fell into a rhythm, ignoring the chaos around them. When they reached the end of the boat, the eager hands of several men lifted Blake’s weight from between her and Papa and carried him to dry land.

  That’s when Lily felt the thrum of the paddle wheel. She looked around. “Where’s Jean Luc?”

  Her father’s gaze followed hers, searching the deck around them. “He must be running the engine.”

  The wood crackled as flames licked greedily at the double doors leading to the staircase. The heat seemed to draw air from her lungs. She felt the tug of the boat as it began to inch away from the dock.

  “Run!” Her father held out his hand, and she put hers in it. Together they dashed across the gangplank, barely making it before the whole thing fell into the river.

  Slowly at first, then with increasing speed, the Hattie Belle began her final voyage. Lily’s heart ached for Jean Luc. He was giving his life for the sake of others, showing he was a better man than she had ever dreamed. Tears streamed down her face as she caught sight of his figure in the pilothouse. “Jean Luc is a very brave man.” Her voice broke, and her father cradled her in his arms.

  After a few minutes, he leaned over and whispered in her ear. “There’s a fellow standing here who seems mighty anxious to say something to you.”

  Lily raised her head, and her heart took wings. “Blake? Are you all right?”

  He nodded, but the paleness of his face and the way he cradled one arm belied the gesture. “I’m sorry about the boat.”

  The meaning behind his words flashed across her mind. The boat was the only reason she and Blake were together. Without it, they had no reason to see each other. She would have no chance to convince him of God’s love. He would have no reason to stay at her side. It wasn’t like they were a married couple. He would be free to return to his former way of life and leave her to pick up the pieces.

  An explosion rocked the water, and a blast of heat scorched Lily’s face. “Jean Luc …” Horror and sadness filled her as her father put his arms back around her. They watched as flaming wood and metal splashed on the surface of the water and struck the surface of other boats.

  She held her breath, fearing another boat might catch fire. Shadowy figures scurried around on their decks and doused the flames before they could take hold. Lily breathed a prayer of thankfulness to God for sparing them.

  “I know where Jensen is.”

  “Is he …?” Lily couldn’t bring herself to complete the question.

>   “Not if Steenberg was telling the truth. He and the guards should be at the train depot.”

  Lily’s head spun. “Steenberg?”

  “He was getting even with me as he threatened when I dismissed him.”

  Knowing she would need time to absorb all the details about the night, she moved from the circle of her father’s protection. “We need to get you back to Les Fleurs where someone can look at that arm.”

  He widened his stance as though he needed extra support. “First we need to find Jen—”

  “You get some help for him. I’ll take care of Jensen and the others.” Papa walked away, calling out to one of the other men who huddled close to the empty berth where the Hattie Belle had been docked.

  She turned her attention back to Blake and realized he was leaning to one side, much like a derelict boat. Lily stepped closer and grabbed the arm he was not favoring. At first he resisted leaning on her, but by the time they crossed the street to the buggy, she felt like she was supporting a mountain.

  “I’m … s–sorry.” Blake’s voice was slurred.

  Lily let out an impatient sound. “Don’t be silly. You were nearly burned to a crisp. Just a few more steps and I’ll help you get aboard. Then you can rest until we get home.”

  He didn’t answer, which frightened her more than his apology. Blake was never at a loss for words. He must be more injured than he’d let on. Once they were both in the buggy, she slapped the reins and backed the buggy away from the somber crowd.

  Blake sagged against her as they drove away, and Lily prayed with all her heart that he would recover. She couldn’t imagine a life without his teasing smile and intriguing gaze. Or accept the idea that he might die before he became a Christian.