Mac chuckled.
“So a week from Wednesday then?”
“Yes, madam. Thank you.”
The other females started clucking and twittering in unison until Mac wasn’t sure which conversation to follow. He hurriedly retrieved his pocket watch and glanced at the time. “Ladies, please …”
They quieted.
“We had best be seated soon. I believe the service is about to begin.” Mac bowed out and headed for the open church doors.
Inside the building, he discovered the smallest of cloakrooms before he entered the sanctuary. Sunshine filtered through brightly colored stained-glass windows that presided over two columns of neatly aligned benches. Mac sensed a cheery atmosphere about the place, quite the opposite of the impersonal, echoing monstrosity that was his family’s church in Alexandria.
He slid between two polished wooden pews, pushed back his coattails, and took a seat beside Blake. He set his top hat beside him. “I gather you weren’t interested in meeting the throng of young ladies in the churchyard.”
“I thought I’d leave all the charming to you, Cap’n.”
“Thanks for that.”
Blake chuckled until Mrs. Gunther shushed him, and Mac wondered if the old seadog had ever darkened a church doorway before in his life. Surely he must care deeply for Mrs. Gunther if he offered to attend today. After all, it had meant that he bathe last night, roll out of bed early this morning, shave, tie his shaggy mop of hair into a gentlemanly queue, and don the best clothes he owned.
Yes, it was love, all right!
Silas Everett appeared to Mac’s right. He removed his stylish black top hat and nodded a silent greeting. Mac returned it in kind, and then Everett sat in the pew in front of him. Jonah and Jed showed up in the side aisle, breathless and with apple-red cheeks, but clean and neat, except for Jed’s shirt, which had come untucked in the back. The boys slid in beside their aunt, who had the wisdom to place Jonah between herself and Blake, separating the rascals.
A white-robed minister came through a side entrance and walked to the center pulpit. He greeted the congregation then led them in a hymn. The singing was accompanied by a woman playing the pianoforte and a man on the violin. They played loudly enough to cover any singer’s off-key notes, Mac’s included.
At last it came time for Lily’s solo, the moment Mac had been anticipating. She gracefully walked to the minister’s vacated pulpit, pushed back her shoulders, and lifted her gaze to somewhere above the rafters, as if she could see through the roof and into heaven itself. After a brief musical introduction, she opened her mouth and sang,
“Jesus, Lover of my soul,
Let me to Thy bosom fly.
While the nearer waters roll,
While the tempest still is high.”
The words Mac recognized, but the melody was unfamiliar and hauntingly beautiful, made more so, perhaps, by Lily’s emotive soprano.
“Hide me, oh my Savior, hide,
Till the storm of life is past.
Safe into the haven guide,
Oh, receive my soul at last.”
She sang like an angel and Mac was captivated. Again. What’s more, he didn’t know a single, seasoned sailor who hadn’t breathed similar words while navigating over stormy seas. The song’s spiritual meaning wasn’t lost on him either, but surprisingly, the song touched a place deep within his being—a place that Mac wasn’t aware existed until today—right now. It was a place in his soul where pleasure and pain converged in the most inexplicable way. He nearly sighed with relief when Lily’s solo ended, and yet he wished to hear the song again. How strange his reaction to a piece of music and mere words on a page.
As Lily made her way down the aisle, Mac glimpsed Everett slide over as if to make room for her beside him. But she walked on by and slipped into a place that Mac quickly created for her, causing something of a chain reaction all the way to the end of the pew.
“Did you like my song?” Lily whispered.
“Very much,” Mac whispered back.
The answering smile on her face made Mac want to belt out his own chorus of hallelujahs. If only his family could see him on this fine morning, sitting in church beside a lovely young lady who possessed a talent for song that could only be divinely given.
Perhaps Lily Laughlin would make a believer of out him yet.
Lily bounced baby Amanda in her arms. “Oh, Issie, she’s getting so big.”
Issie’s features exuded sheer delight. “Isn’t she though?”
“And pretty.” A longing inside of Lily bloomed like the daisies in her flower garden. She ached for a loving husband and children of her own, just like her lifelong friend, Isabella Hawkins, had been blessed with.
As if sensing her thoughts, Issie leaned closer. “Someday, Lily, I’ll be holding your baby.”
“I doubt it.” The thought of marrying Mr. Everett made her shudder despite the rising temperatures in the churchyard. “I fear I’ll die a poor old maid.”
“Nonsense.” Issie giggled. “Why, Captain Albright can’t seem to take his eyes off you.”
“He’s our new neighbor.”
“So?” Issie held the top of her wide-brimmed bonnet as a gust blew around them and bowed treetops. “Neighbor or not, the man is smitten. It’s obvious.”
“Oh, stop, Issie.” Lily slid her glance to where Mac and several men conversed beneath the shade of a tall, black walnut tree. He looked her way and Lily smiled politely and quickly returned her gaze safely back to Issie.
“And you’re sweet on him too.”
“Well, how can I help it? He’s a charmer—like Oliver Ashton ten times over.”
“Forget Oliver.” A pucker furrowed Issie’s brow. “The poor man is dead. Let him rest in peace.” Baby Amanda fussed, and Issie plucked her daughter from Lily’s arms. “There’s a man who is very much alive over yonder, and he is obviously interested in you.”
“I’m his only friend so far in Middletown.” For as much as Lily yearned for romantic love, the idea frightened her. She knew so little of Mac … What if he’d made promises to another young lady in Alexandria? She couldn’t stand the thought of being humiliated again.
“Captain Albright accepted our dinner invitation a week from this Wednesday. You’ll come too, won’t you?”
“Well …” Lily knew of no other obligations.
“I’ll put Amanda to bed and we’ll have a casual late supper.”
Lily smiled. “I would enjoy nothing better than to visit your home and dine with you and James.”
“Good. Then it’s settled.” Issie’s happy smile peeped out from beneath her ridiculously large hat. “I’ll go tell James immediately.”
Lily watched her best friend’s haste to tell her husband the news. Perhaps Mac would feel more comfortable knowing his neighbor would be in attendance too. However, the cluster of young ladies standing nearby was a clear sign that Mac would not be lacking in invitations.
One young lady in particular stood out among the throng, Cynthia Clydesdale. Her pretty face, nut-brown hair, and figure-flattering light-blue dress with its cerulean sash caused several male heads to turn. Surely Mac noticed her, and Cynthia made no effort to hide the fact that she wanted a husband. She’d planned to be married by now, but Oliver Ashton had fooled her too.
Mac backed away from the conversing men and Cynthia stopped him by touching his arm. He politely tugged on the brim of his black top hat and seemed interested in Cynthia’s prattle. Why, the lilt in her voice carried across the yard. Mac gave a nod, and Lily heard him thank Cynthia for whatever it was she’d said. Then he made his way toward Lily.
“Are you ready to leave?”
“Are you?” Lily leaned forward. “Seems Miss Clydesdale would prefer that you stay.”
“The attractive young woman in the blue gown who spoke to me just now?”
So he had noticed Cynthia’s comeliness. The fact caused Lily pangs of jealousy—pangs she quickly tamped down. “Captain, surely you�
�re accustomed to young ladies throwing themselves at you.”
“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” A guffaw escaped him. “The truth is, I find meeting members of the fairer sex more difficult the older I become.”
He offered his arm and Lily threaded her hand around his elbow. They strolled toward the carriage.
“I fear I am to be a bachelor forever.”
“Don’t feel badly. You’re in good company. I’m destined to be a penniless old maid as I would rather die than marry a certain gentleman whose name we shall not mention.”
At the utterance of her last word, Mr. Everett hailed them. Lily moaned and Mac chuckled softly.
“Hark, that certain gent summons you.”
“Forgive me for not sharing your amusement.” Lily watched Mr. Everett’s rapid approach. His features were shadowed by a dark scowl. She clung a bit tighter to Mac’s arm.
“Lily, I insist you ride home in my carriage.” Mr. Everett sounded a bit breathless from his canter across the churchyard. “This is the way we’ve done things since your father died, and I believe he would be quite vexed by your behavior this morning.” He glared at Mac. “I hope you aren’t the sort of man who would risk a young lady’s reputation by publicly commanding her attention.”
“Sir?” Mac frowned. “I’m merely escorting Miss Laughlin to the buggy. She’s recovering from a fever. I wouldn’t have her walk home.”
“And the display in church?” With pinched features, Mr. Everett moved toward Lily. “What do you have to say about that?”
Lily took a half step back. Mac moved forward, causing her to feel quite protected. It occurred to her that she hadn’t felt such a measure of security since Papa died. And to think of the gratitude she’d felt when Mr. Everett told the magistrate he’d step in as executor. He’d taken advantage of her grieving family. Now that she knew of his intentions, Lily wanted to stay as far away from him as possible.
“Have you no answer?” He gave a grunt. “I was thoroughly humiliated.”
“I have no idea what you’re referring to.” Lily searched her memory and came up with nothing.
“You sat next to me,” Mac muttered, tilting his head closer to hers. “It appears Mr. Everett took offense to that.”
“Then I’m sorry for you, sir. There was nothing shameful about selecting my family’s pew. Besides, Mr. Blake and Captain Albright attended today at our invitation.”
“You obviously did not read that book on ladies’ etiquette that I gave you.” Mr. Everett lifted his chin, sniffed, then brushed away flakes of dried leaves from his black lapel. “What a pity.”
“You are wrong, sir. I read every word.” She spoke the truth, although she hadn’t studied the volume for Mr. Everett’s sake. She hoped to glean an impeccable comportment for …
She stared up into Mac’s face. Yes, she’d read the book for him. She would freely admit it, at least to herself. But she hated the idea of embarrassing her new friend, especially since it sounded as though he hailed from a sophisticated family in Alexandria.
“I’m certain proper etiquette,” Mr. Everett scoffed, “does not dictate the obvious pursuit of a man while in the house of the Lord.”
Lily opened her mouth to answer, but found herself speechless. Her face flamed beneath the accusation. She glanced around, wondering if others heard him, and tears pricked.
“You are mistaken in your assumptions, sir,” Mac said. His tone left little room for argument. “I’ve known Miss Laughlin barely a month, but in that short time I have learned she is not a young lady who behaves unseemly.”
The memory of being in Mac’s arms while they surveyed the barn rushed to the forefront of Lily’s mind. She’d told him straight out that he was handsome and he said she was liable to get herself kissed. How disappointed she’d been when a skunk interrupted their intimacy.
Lily suddenly wished for the Second Coming. Perhaps she deserved this dressing down in front of all her church family. She attempted to slip her hand from Mac’s arm, but he flexed his muscles and held it in place. Amazingly, and in spite of Mr. Everett’s flare of temper and wild assertions, Mac’s expression registered complete calm. No furrowed brow. No creased forehead. No frown pulling his mouth downward.
Reverend Kasper joined their threesome and Lily’s knees weakened with relief. The reverend was not quick to accuse or judge. She introduced Mac and carefully kept her eyes averted from Mr. Everett. The two men shook hands.
“You are new to Middletown, I hear.”
“Yes, Reverend, I am.” Mac sounded pleasant enough.
“Welcome.” The reverend’s bright gaze shifted to Lily before returning to Mac. “I think you will find happiness here in our quaint corner of the world.”
A half grin played across his lips. “How can you tell?”
Reverend Kasper grinned also. “Call it divine intuition.”
“Then I’m glad for it, as Middletown is feeling more like my home every day.”
“Good.” The minister clasped his hands together. “Oh, and I should mention that my wife and I have been invited to the Hawkinses’ home next week as well, so I look forward to our getting better acquainted, Captain.”
“Likewise, sir.”
The reverend gave a bow, smiled at Lily, and moved on.
“What is occurring next week?” Mr. Everett asked. “I am not aware of any invitations.”
Mac cleared his throat. “Miss Laughlin shouldn’t stand in this breeze much longer. As I said, she is recovering from her illness. We had better make for the buggy.”
“Had you communicated your need of a vehicle, Captain, I would have shared mine, as I have done since your arrival.” Mr. Everett emphatically punctuated his last several words.
“You have been most gracious, Mr. Everett.”
Lily heard the tightness in Mac’s voice before he turned with her still on his arm. They strode to the gravel opening where the horses and various styles of vehicles had been parked. She exchanged waves with Carolina Givens, who sat in the back seat of her father’s wagon. However, Lily didn’t miss Mac’s signal to Mr. Blake. With the man’s hand at the small of Aunt Hilda’s back, Mr. Blake steered her away from her gabbing friends, although Aunt Hilda got in a few parting words.
At that moment, Jed and Jonah came tearing around the church building, chasing the three McGuire boys. Mac whistled through his teeth, causing Lily’s ear to ring. However, it brought her brothers to a standstill. Miraculously, they followed Mac’s lead to the buggy.
As her brothers barreled onto the seats, one in front and one in back, Lily noticed the knees of Jed’s trousers were caked with dirt. His Sunday clothes would have to be washed … again.
“Pardon my whistling for your brothers.” Mac spoke close to Lily’s ear while he assisted her into the carriage. “I fear I acted on impulse.”
“It did the job. Besides, my hearing shall return shortly.” Lily laughed at Mac’s look of concern.
His frown ebbed. “You’re sporting with me.”
Her smile lingered. “That I am, sir.”
He rolled his dark eyes before helping Aunt Hilda into the coach. But Lily had glimpsed the amusement that stole over Mac’s face. Knowing she was the culprit of his good humor pleased her.
Could Issie have been correct about a mutual romantic attraction between Mac and her? Was that why Mr. Everett was so livid in the churchyard and the reason he’d been behaving oddly all week? Such a thing would certainly foil his plans—
Plans which crimped Lily’s insides at the mere idea of them. He’d already sold off a fair portion of their land. What else did he have in mind?
Mac cinched the last of two valises and glanced around his rented room. After returning the buggy to the livery and thanking Mr. Hawkins for its use, he procured a wagon and a team of mules from the man who promised to ready the animals and drive the wagon to the inn. Hawkins’s manner encouraged Mac. Perhaps he’d find a friend in the good-natured blacksmith.
Upon
returning to the inn, Mac asked Blake to change clothes and pack up his things. They were leaving. Mac refused to tolerate any more of Everett’s rude behavior and insinuations. Paying the innkeeper daily seemed, in a way, like he condoned it.
And he didn’t.
He opened and closed his right hand as the temptation to slam his fist into Everett’s jaw came over him once more. The urge this morning had been powerful enough to make Mac want to forget the reverend’s teaching on loving thy neighbor and extending him grace.
He breathed in deeply, then exhaled slowly. He wouldn’t resort to violence. He couldn’t, even for Lily. His future here in Middletown had only just begun, and Everett seemed to have influence on a good number of citizens. Mac had guessed that days ago, and talk among a few men in the churchyard this morning confirmed it. Seemed several of them had secured loans from Everett and he’d hiked up their payments, imposing severe constraints on the debtors’ budgets.
More reason to move out of the Stony Inn. The less Mac knew about other men’s financial affairs, the better.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Enter,” Mac called.
Blake shuffled in. “I’m all set if you are. The wagon’s out front.”
Mac grabbed his valises and followed Blake downstairs. He paid their bill to a maid who furnished him with a receipt. Mac had offered to pick up all expenses if Blake would help him get started with his new life as a landlubber.
Yet one more good reason to leave; he’d save money. And he’d need every coin to achieve his goals.
The desire to prove himself to his family swelled inside of him. He longed to show them he wasn’t the reprobate and traitor—even murderer—that the Hanovers and others in Alexandria had made him out to be. The accusations from former friends and neighbors wounded Mac deeply. While it was true that the only way he could stay alive was to fight his own countrymen, Mac’s actions put questions into his brother’s and father’s minds and tears into his mother’s and sisters’ eyes.
Well, he’d show them—all of them—that he wasn’t a ne’er-do-well … or worse. As he prospered, he’d prove it. He’d regain their respect.
My Heart Belongs in the Shenandoah Valley Page 9
