My Heart Belongs in the Shenandoah Valley

by Andrea Boeshaar

  The carriage halted in front of the Stony Inn, which doubled as a stagecoach relay station. At any time of day one could find citizens and visitors alike mingling in the dining hall or sitting at the recently built gaming table in the back room.

  “Care to join me in a card game, gentlemen?” Everett peeled off his hat and handed it and his walking stick to a white-capped maid. She curtsied and scurried off.

  “Not for me, thanks.” Mac strode toward the wide stairway.

  “Me neither. Early morning tomorrow.” Blake’s voice didn’t hold much conviction.

  Everett seemed to seize upon the fact. “One game, Mr. Blake. Surely you can sit through one game.”

  “Well … I suppose I can.”

  “I shall wish you both a good night.” Mac paused and gave them a polite and parting bow. Then, accepting a lighted lamp from another maid, he climbed the steps to his rented room. He unlocked the door and a wave of heat crashed over him. Crossing the room, he opened the window, allowing the late summer breeze to ruffle the muslin curtains as it wafted into his quarters.

  After shedding his overcoat, Mac unbuttoned his waistcoat then pulled off his boots. He pondered the events of his life that led him to Middletown. How different things were now compared to a year ago when he’d returned home with his British ally, Captain Taylor Osborn. Blake hadn’t come along to Mac’s family home that afternoon. He’d found acceptable quarters close to the wharves. At the time, the British army occupied Alexandria and Blake wasn’t sure if he’d sign on with a merchant ship. He’d even pondered the idea of returning to England.

  Meanwhile a squall gathered in Alexandria upon Mac’s return. The British and Loyalists welcomed him, so not all of his family’s vessels were destroyed, as they would have been if he was a returning American hero. Nor was their home. However, the Patriots weren’t so enamored of him.

  Mac shook off the voices that still whispered “traitor” when he least expected it, although tonight they weren’t quite as loud. Tonight he heard the sweet voice of a sea nymph singing in his head. He envisioned her plucky grin and vulnerable blue eyes.

  Lily Laughlin.

  Mac extinguished the lamp and crawled into bed. Hands behind his head, he watched the shadows play on the ceiling. His mind filled with certain moments of the day when her smile beguiled him, her laughter tickled him. Certainly, she had faced tough times, but a more joyful female he’d never met. What was it about her that set her apart from all the others? Why was she occupying his thoughts?

  Part of Mac wanted to discover the answers to his questions, but caution rang loud and clear in his heart. The last thing he wanted to do was stir up trouble—and with Middletown’s most prominent citizen, Silas Everett. Mac’s plan was to carve out a small corner of the world for himself. By himself. And he had to succeed or succumb to a lifetime of failure. Father had agreed and granted Mac an early inheritance. Father had dubbed him the Prodigal Son, but, unlike the biblical character, Mac had no intentions of squandering his money.

  No, he’d build a life for himself here in Middletown. A quiet life—alone. He’d subsist on what his land and animals provided and trade for what it didn’t. Life would be infinitely easier that way. No more romantic entanglements. No more broken hearts.

  Why, then, when he closed his eyes, did the vision of Lily Laughlin singing in Cedar Creek appear?

  Mac was too exhausted to fight it so he allowed her to glide across his mind like a schooner across calm waters. Sleep came quickly.

  Beneath her aunt’s scrutiny, Lily made room for a jug of homemade blackberry cider in the picnic basket.

  “There. That should do it.” Satisfaction glimmered in Aunt Hilda’s blue eyes as she stepped back and admired Lily’s handiwork. She motioned to Jonah and Jed. “Now, you boys work together and carry the basket over to our favorite picnic spot near the creek.”

  They muttered unison “yes ma’ams” then each took hold of a basket handle.

  Lily couldn’t imagine two men eating all the lunch Aunt Hilda packed—the salt-rising bread, fried pork, sliced cheese, cold potato and sauce, various raw vegetables from the garden, and last but hardly least, a sugary treat. Although, if the captain should invite her and the boys and Aunt Hilda to partake of the meal, there would be plenty for all.

  “Do you think the captain will tell me more seafaring tales?” Jonah said, reaching the opened doorway.

  “If he doesn’t,” Lily replied, “I’m sure Mr. Blake shall oblige you.”

  Anticipation sparkled in his eyes. “C’mon, Jed, let’s go.”

  The boys set down their burden long enough to push their caps onto their heads. Then they resumed hauling the basket toward the meadow.

  Lily tied her bonnet’s yellow ribbon under her chin. Aunt Hilda pinned her braided straw hat on her head. Together they left the house, closing the side door so critters wouldn’t make themselves at home while they were away.

  “I hope our new neighbor doesn’t decide that we’re as irksome as raccoons.”

  “For bringing him food and drink in the middle of a hot summer day?” Aunt Hilda clucked her tongue. “Why would he?”

  Lily didn’t have a reply, but that didn’t keep her insides from filling with odd flutters. Perhaps it was the captain’s teasing the night before last or her fretting ever since that soon the entire town would hear of her bath in Cedar Creek.

  Besides which, the captain had heard Mr. Everett say the Laughlins were penniless.

  He’d promised to keep her secret. But, the question was, would he?

  They tramped across the long grass, dented from where Jonah and Jed had recently trod. Lily sent up a prayer that God would shoo off any slithering snakes that might be hiding in the overgrowth. Knowing her heavenly Father heard her, she concentrated on the sweet scent of the meadow. A lively song came to her and she just had to sing it.

  “In Freedom we’re born and in Freedom we’ll live.

  Our purses are ready.

  Steady, friends, steady;

  Not as slaves, but as Freemen our money we’ll give….”

  “Lily, look.” Aunt Hilda pointed up ahead. “I think your singing summoned our new neighbor and Mr. Blake.”

  Squinting into the sunshine, she spotted Captain Albright greeting the boys. Within moments, he jogged over to them and relieved them of the heavy basket, carrying it in one hand as if it were feathery light.

  “Nothing in the world like a big strong man.” Aunt Hilda sighed dreamily.

  “Why, Aunt!”

  “I’m only statin’ a fact.”

  Lily wanted to argue that it wasn’t ladylike to remark on a man’s stature, but the words evaporated on her tongue as the captain’s broad shoulders tested the fabric limits of his ivory shirt. Finally shifting her focus, she realized her aunt wasn’t staring ahead at the captain but somewhere else. Lily followed her line of vision to Mr. Blake, who strutted toward the captain.

  “Aunt Hilda!” Lily nudged her. “Don’t tell me you’re sweet on Mr. Blake.”

  “Oh, pish! I’m too old to be sweet on anyone or about anything.” She punctuated her statement with her usual defiant nod.

  “If you say so.” Lily smiled, suspecting her aunt was as human as any female. Despite her gruff, Aunt Hilda had blushed two nights ago as if she were sixteen again.

  “Well, this is a pleasant surprise.” Captain Albright set the basket down just as Lily and Aunt Hilda arrived at the picnic spot. He swept off his hat. “To what do we owe this unexpected visit?”

  “My aunt packed a lunch for you and Mr. Blake.” The flutters in Lily’s midsection multiplied. “She hated the thought of you two men starving to death out here.”

  “Starve? With all this fruit hanging from tree limbs? Why, I feel like the first Adam in the Garden of Eden.”

  Lily felt mesmerized by the captain’s attention.

  “Three-quarters of it is your crop, Miss Laughlin.”

  Aunt Hilda nudged her and Lily realized she’d mis
sed what he just said. “I beg your pardon, sir?”

  “The fruit? You won three-quarters of the harvest a couple of nights ago.”

  “Oh … yes. Of course.” She composed herself.

  “But I must admit your gift has arrived just in time. Blake was ready to eat one of his boots, and I confess to being famished myself.”

  Lily smiled at his jesting.

  “And you will join us, won’t you?”

  Lily looked beyond the captain to where Mr. Blake unpacked the picnic basket. He’d already found the jug of blackberry cider. Jed and Jonah practically hung over his shoulders, and Jonah was already peppering the old sailor with questions.

  “We don’t want to impose,” Aunt Hilda said. “We understand you’re a busy man.”

  Lily held the blanket out to him.

  “No, no, you must stay.” Captain Albright took a position between Lily and her aunt. His cotton shirt smelled like sunshine and manly musk. He set his arms across their shoulders and moved them toward Mr. Blake and the boys. “To leave now would be to rob Blake and me of your excellent company.”

  Lily peeked up at him. He smiled and it looked most genuine. Her heart started to race like it did before she sang a solo in the church choir.

  “We’re happy to stay if you insist, sir.” Aunt Hilda made it sound like it was some grand acquiescence.

  His expression of pleasure remained. “I do, indeed, insist, Mrs. Gunther.” He turned his dark gaze on Lily and it warmed her face more than the summer heat. “And Miss Laughlin.”

  “Thank you. It’s the perfect day for a picnic.”

  “That it is,” the captain agreed.

  Lily took the large blanket from him and spread it out near the base of a willow and close to where Mr. Blake continued to unpack the basket. Already her brothers were plucking up food and stuffing their mouths.

  “Where are your manners, boys?” Lily sent them her best scowl. “We haven’t thanked the Lord for His provisions. And you might let our guests select their lunch first.”

  “Ah, but you are my guests, Miss Laughlin.”

  The captain’s mild admonishment fell over Lily like a shroud. The meadow, the access to Cedar Creek, this acreage—it no longer belonged to them.

  She swallowed the sorrow threatening to strangle her. “You are correct, sir. Please accept my apology for overstepping as I did.”

  “None required.” His gaze seared her. “I only meant that you, Mrs. Gunther, and your brothers should make a lunch plate for yourselves before Blake gets his hands on the rest of it.”

  “Aye, I plan to eat my fill, that’s for sure.” Mr. Blake chuckled.

  “But you’re right, Miss Laughlin, we should ask a blessing.” The captain’s suggestion put a frown on Mr. Blake’s face, causing Lily to wonder over the men’s faith—or lack thereof. “Perhaps one of you, young masters, would care to pray over our meal.”

  Jed volunteered for the task, making Lily proud.

  “Good bread, good meat, good God, let’s eat!” He cheered like a raucous sailor and Jonah laughed.

  Lily’s mouth fell open. Such sacrilege! And the guffaws that sprang from Mr. Blake and the grin on the captain’s face would only make it more difficult for her to reprimand Jed later.

  Perhaps Mr. Everett was right about boarding school.

  Lily eyed her aunt, who didn’t seem troubled by Jed’s impertinence. Instead Aunt Hilda plopped down beside Mr. Blake and began eating.

  “Miss Laughlin?” Captain Albright waved her toward the picnic lunch.

  Lily’s insides twisted. “Suddenly I’m not very hungry.” Between the captain’s reminder that this was his property and her obvious failing when it came to training up her younger brothers, Lily felt defeated. She took a step back. “I think I’ll go home. I’ve got plenty of chores waiting for me.”

  “And wait they will.” A shadowy frown moved across his face. “You need refreshment.” He neared and took her elbow, guiding her toward the food. “Besides, it is, as you said, a perfect day for a picnic.”

  “Yes, of course.” The words came rather mechanically, for there was no heart in them. But at the same time, Lily didn’t want to appear rude.

  “And as long as I’ve got your ear, would you mind terribly if I bend it?”

  “Lily’s good at bending ears,” Jonah spouted, rubbing his.

  “That’s not what the captain meant,” Lily scoffed.

  “She’s also good at pinching,” Jed put in.

  “My, my, Miss Laughlin, such glowing attributes from your brothers.” Amusement shone in Captain Albright’s inky gaze. “Did I tell you that I have four younger sisters?”

  “You did not, sir.”

  “Yes, well, I do and, as a boy, when my older brother and I weren’t teasing them, we enjoyed frightening them with grass snakes, bugs, and worms.”

  “Your poor sisters.” Lily cast him a look of reprimand while a feeling of genuine pity crept over her. Nothing gave her the frights more than snakes, although she’d never admit it to Jed and Jonah lest a serpent appear in her bedcovers one night.

  Grinning, the captain took a wide stance and locked his hands behind his back. “Both amusements sent the girls crying to our mother who, of course, told our father when he came home from a long day at his shipping business. The end result never boded well for my brother and me.”

  Lily froze. It was the most the captain had revealed about himself. The information shed light on his softer side, although not with regard to his poor terrorized sisters.

  The gloom hovering over Lily lifted somewhat, and she wrestled with a smile before helping herself to a slice of buttered bread, a slab of fried salted pork, and two pickled beet eggs—all her favorites.

  The captain began adding food to his plate.

  “No one can scare Lily,” Jed announced with his cheek bulging. “Me and Jonah tried, but she’s not scared of nothin’.”

  The captain turned, and Lily didn’t miss the gleam in his eyes. “Ah, the ultimate compliment, Miss Laughlin.” He finished filling his plate and found a grassy spot near the tree trunk beside her. “I suspect you’re quite proud of your brothers.”

  “Indeed,” she fibbed. In truth, she felt no accolades. The boys’ bad manners and Jed’s misuse of the English language caused her a measure of shame. She shouldn’t have allowed them to fall behind with their studies, but with Papa’s death …

  “Cap’n, have you sampled the potatoes?” Blake asked. “They’re a marvel.”

  Aunt Hilda looked pleased, but waved the compliment away.

  Lily tried to gauge the captain’s reaction as he bit into a slice. “Mmm, they are indeed tasty. I’ve never eaten cold potatoes in such a tangy sauce.”

  “So glad you like them.” Aunt Hilda aimed her reply at Mr. Blake. “An old German recipe.”

  Lily peeked at their new neighbor. Glimpsing his raised eyebrows, a giggle passed through her lips. It appeared the captain was as intrigued by the older couple’s odd behavior as Lily.

  “I could be mistaken, but”—he leaned toward Lily—“for Blake I think it was love at first bite.”

  His play on words tickled her. “I’ve heard Aunt Hilda say she missed feeding a man with a healthy appetite.”

  “Thus the way to some men’s hearts is truly through their stomachs.”

  “Quite right, sir.”

  Captain Albright’s lips formed a grin seconds before he took another bite of food. “She is a grand cook,” he managed with his mouth full. “I’ll swear to that.”

  Lily glanced across the picnic blanket in time to see Aunt Hilda put a handful of olives on Mr. Blake’s plate.

  “Miss Laughlin, about my bending your ear …”

  She steered her attention back to the captain. “You may proceed, sir.”

  “Thank you. It’s regarding the placement of my home.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. It would seem that in keeping with the rest of my neighbors, my home should be built nea
rer to the road.”

  “But then you would be forced to cut down a large portion of our fruit trees.” She caught herself. “Your fruit trees.”

  The captain merely nodded his head.

  Lily looked off to her left. “Wouldn’t you rather build your home on the hill?” She perceived questions pooling in his eyes. She stood. “Allow me to show you?”

  He pushed to his feet in one fluid move. “Lead the way.”

  Lily began a trek toward the top of the hill, although she didn’t really lead the captain. She had a difficult time keeping up with his long strides, and she couldn’t mask her attempts to catch her breath. At last he slowed.

  “Forgive my hurry, Miss Laughlin.”

  Breathless, she could only bob her head.

  He offered his arm. She slipped her hand around his elbow. The warmth from his flesh beneath his sleeve found its way into her palm. Although she didn’t need assistance walking up the incline, it might keep him to a slower pace.

  “Quite the informal picnic today.” It was a sorry excuse for any improprieties, but all Lily could offer.

  “I think that’s the way picnics should be. Informal and enjoyable.”

  Charmed, she dropped her gaze to the clover as a meadow breeze threatened to unseat her straw bonnet.

  They reached the property’s apex, and Lily drew in a breath of sweet-smelling air. “’Tis a fair view, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I would, indeed.”

  “When I was a girl I used to dream of being a princess and building my castle on this very spot.” She laughed. “It’s my father’s fault. He always called me his princess.”

  With the smile lingering on her lips, she pointed straight ahead. “In my childish mind, the back of my house would face the east and the shadow of the Alleghenies.” She twirled around. “The front of my house would face the orchard, but of course, a wide swath would be cut in between the trees to make a circular drive so all my guests would be greeted by the sight of elegant fruit trees as they rode up to the house and left it later.” Lily indicated directly westward where the Blue Ridge Mountains spread out along the horizon, looking like a long line of smoke.