My Heart Belongs in the Shenandoah Valley

by Andrea Boeshaar

  “I’m not angry with you.”

  “Really? You act it.”

  “I’m a horrible actor, so please accept my deepest and most sincere apologies.”

  “You’re apologizing for your poor acting abilities?”

  “I’m apologizing for my boorish behavior. I attempted to act as though I didn’t care about you. The truth is I do care.” Sincerity swam in his dark eyes. “At the same time, I cannot allow myself the luxury of your pleasant company.” He began studying the chimney’s stonework. “It’s why I’ve determined to discourage you.”

  “So you made your decision to dissolve our acquaintanceship after church last Sunday?” She shivered as the dampness of her dress seeped into her skin.

  Mac shrugged out of his frockcoat and set it about her shoulders, wrapping her in his woodsy scent. Quite an unlikely gesture from a non-friend.

  “Admit it, Lily.” He tugged on the lapels, drawing her closer. “Everyone who saw us leave together two Sundays ago now believes we have an understanding.”

  “I have heard nothing to that effect.”

  “And, tonight, did the Hawkinses and the Kaspers not assume that we would arrive together?”

  “Well, yes … but only because we’re neighbors and the weather is inclement.”

  He grunted. “It was not because we’re neighbors nor is it due to the foul weather.” He released his coat and Lily stumbled back. “To be honest, I’m surprised at your naivety.”

  “You are filled with compliments tonight, Captain.” Her chin trembled slightly and Mac’s features softened.

  “I meant no insult.” He clasped her fingers, but pulled away as if he thought better of taking her hand. “The fact of the matter is, I have invested every coin I own into my property and a chance to start my life anew. I’ve made mistakes, Lily, misdeeds for which I must atone. I cannot afford to get distracted by a golden-haired beauty with beguiling blue eyes, enchanting smiles, and a captivating singing voice.”

  “Are you referring to me?”

  “I know of no other neighbor who poses such a threat.” Mac’s eyebrow quirked.

  “Such puffery, sir.” Surely he mocked her. No one ever regarded her as a beauty.

  “I don’t engage in feigned flattery. To be blunt, I am a man, Lily, and you are probably the loveliest young lady I have ever set eyes on.” He spoke in a tone scarcely above a whisper that sent delight swirling through her. “If you think the two of us can enter into a platonic relationship, you are misguided.” He rolled his left shoulder. “I speak for myself, anyway.”

  She gaped at him, a frown pinching her brow, but then the reality of his words struck her. “Oh!” He had just confessed his attraction to her. In truth, she was equally as fascinated by him.

  Her face warmed at the admission.

  “When I said I’ll never marry, I meant it.”

  “And I took your word for it.”

  “Yet, I would hate to give you the wrong impression by continuing our friendship.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you?” He lifted one ebony eyebrow. “I never want to imitate that cad who broke your heart.”

  “Oliver?”

  “Yes, him. I don’t think I could bear it if I hurt you.”

  “But you did wound me by not being forthright sooner.”

  “And for that, I am sorry.” He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers, sending a surge of delight through her, but further confusing her too. He didn’t sound like a man eager to be rid of their association. Rather, he sounded like a caring friend.

  However, there was one thing Mac overlooked.

  “Despite your feelings, it does not change the fact that we are neighbors. Here in Middletown we all help each other and count it all joy to do so.”

  “Yes, I’ve gotten that impression.”

  “So I hope you won’t forbid me to attend your barn raising party.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” A hint of a smile tugged on the corners of his mouth. “I may even ask you for a dance, which might be to my peril.”

  A laugh bubbled out, but it was a heady feeling to imagine that she had some strange power over Mac’s emotions. “I will refuse you, of course—for your own good.”

  The tiny lines around his eyes vanished and an expression of what could only be disappointment shadowed his features.

  “You see, Captain? I have your best interests at heart.”

  The corners of his mouth quirked as if he fought off a grin. “On that note, Miss Laughlin, I shall retire for the night.” He bowed slightly.

  She replied with a polite dip and watched his retreating back. “Oh, but aren’t you forgetting something?”

  He halted. “A final kiss, perhaps, sealing the dissolution of our friendship?” He spun around, resembling a snorting bull. “How dare you tease me in such a manner when I have been—”

  “Your coat?” Lily slipped from beneath the garment, instantly missing its warmth, and held it out to him. She exercised every ounce of will to keep from laughing at his chagrined expression.

  He snatched it from her with a glower that warned her not to even smirk.

  She didn’t … until he left the parlor. It was only then that she allowed herself a giggle.

  A final kiss … Did he really believe she’d suggest such a thing? He thought quite a lot of himself.

  Lily inched closer to the hearth and replayed their conversation over in her mind. Once more he had vowed to remain unwed. Lily wished she were a man so she could assert such a bold claim. But the fact was, she would need to marry sometime in the future. How else was a penniless girl to support herself—that’s if she were, indeed, penniless? She still believed Papa hid his will somewhere.

  But where?

  Fear and frustration weighed down on Lily. After harvesting three-quarters of this year’s crops, she and her family could no longer rely on monies earned at the fair from jams, jellies, and pies fresh from the orchards or the bread and cornmeal from the grain fields. Their yield had never been enough earnings to live on anyway. Mad money, Papa used to call it, for it usually was divided up and used for gifts at Christmastime.

  Was Lily really down to the only option available to her? Marrying Mr. Everett—presuming he would declare himself. Could she abide such a union if only for the sake of her family?

  Lily closed her eyes and beseeched the God of the universe. Lord, please provide me with a way to support my family. A means to survive.

  After several more moments in silent prayer, a sense of calm fell over Lily. Her heavenly Father owned the cattle on a thousand hills. If she trusted Him, she’d want for nothing—

  Not even for a darkly handsome husband who resembled her guest upstairs.

  The tapestry-papered walls and oil paintings did not reflect a poor man’s bedchamber. Chunky mahogany furniture made Mac feel right at home. Clearly, this was a man’s dwelling place. Nary a hint of female touches graced the room.

  “As I told John”—Mrs. Gunther cast a quick but adoring smile at Blake—“help yourself to any of my brother’s garments.” She opened the doors to the wardrobe. “Lily and I keep meaning to go through his belongings and give to charity what Jonah and Jed don’t wish to keep, but some other task always claims our attention.”

  “I appreciate the offer. You’re too kind.”

  “Just being neighborly.” Mrs. Gunther circled the room, straightening a chair, adjusting the privacy screen, and then pausing at one side of the bed to plump pillows. “Hang your damp clothes by the hearth to dry.” She indicated the lively flames dancing behind the ornate three-paneled iron grillwork.

  “Thank you, I will.” Mac was humbled by the woman’s graciousness, especially given his rather flinty conversation with Lily. To Lily’s credit, she hadn’t collapsed into a fit of tears, a fact that encouraged him to be completely honest with her.

  Why, then, did it pain Mac to imagine that Lily might be crying her eyes out right now?

  “Mrs. Gunth
er.” His words halted the woman as she reached the doorway. “Would you check on Lily before retiring?”

  “Certainly, but why?”

  “I may have unwittingly hurt her feelings.”

  “Be honest, Cap’n. Nothin’ unwitting about it. You don’t appreciate the girl’s company.” Blake made him sound so crass. “You got work to do.”

  “Ah, so you told Lily what was on your mind, did you?” Mrs. Gunther dipped her chin. “She’s been wondering what bee got into your breeches.” Neither humor nor concern showed on the older woman’s lined face. “I’m sure she was glad you spoke up. My niece manages best when one is straightforward with her.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’ll bid you a good night, gentlemen.” With a parting nod, Mrs. Gunther left the room.

  “Breakfast is at seven sharp.” Blake removed the coverlet atop the wide bed.

  “And hopefully this rain will stop by morning.” Mac moved the heavy drapes aside and peered out the window. Rain splashed against the glass pane and preceded a dark, moonless sky. “We should start felling trees and think about constructing a cabin in which to live while my house is being built.” He turned and faced Blake, now tucked beneath the bedcovers. “In the future I can use it as a shelter for farmhands if I’m successful enough to afford them.”

  Blake raised himself up on his elbows. “Cap’n, I been doin’ some thinkin’ of my own, and I decided I’m goin’ back to Alexandria.”

  Mac barely contained his disappointment. “Why?”

  “The sea is beckonin’. I can hear her callin’ me, even with those mountains standin’ in the way.”

  “I thought you loved Mrs. Gunther.”

  “I do, and I plan ta marry her. But I can’t be a landlubber, and I told her so.”

  Mac set his hands on his hips. “You proposed marriage?”

  “I did.” Blake’s wide grin nearly reached his earlobes.

  “And what did the lady say?”

  “Well, after she got done chucklin’—”

  Mac smiled, imagining the scene.

  “—she said I had to dedicate myself to pleasing God and prove to her I can financially support the both of us.”

  “Not an unreasonable request.” Except for the pleasing God part. But it explained Blake’s renewed desire to work aboard a ship. Sailing was the only occupation he knew, and he knew it well. “I wish you the best, my friend.”

  “Oh, I ain’t leavin’ for a few weeks yet. Hilda said Middletown is lucky if the stage comes through once a month. Sometimes more. But it brung us a couple of weeks ago, so I figure I got some time yet to help you out.” He yawned loudly. “We’ll start choppin’ down trees tomorrow.”

  Mac carefully picked through Lily’s father’s belongings in search of appropriate bedtime wear and extracted a linen nightshirt, made of quality material. His body suddenly ached for dry, clean clothes and a soft bed, even if it meant sharing it with Blake.

  “It appears Mr. Laughlin was a man of some means.” Mac unbuttoned his waistcoat, shed it, then untied his cravat.

  “I’d say so.” Another loud yawn.

  “Makes a man wonder why Everett claims the family is destitute and were it not for his good nature the Laughlins and Mrs. Gunther wouldn’t have bread on their table.”

  “Hilda is used to high livin’, but she knows things changed with Everett in charge now.”

  “Undoubtedly.” Mac pulled off one soaked boot, glad for a pair of dry socks tonight. “This home has a subtle elegance about it that I admire.”

  “Hilda said they used ta have a hired man that tended the horses and buggy. Everett let him go and then sold the team and conveyance.”

  “So that the Laughlins are dependent upon him, no doubt.” Mac yanked off his other boot. “It’s obvious what that man’s doing. He’s using the Laughlins’ inheritance for his own benefit.”

  “Now, Cap’n, don’t get yerself all riled before bed. You’ll toss n’ turn all night and neither of us’ll sleep a wink.”

  Hanging his wet socks over the wrought iron screen in front of the hearth, Mac grumbled that Blake could sleep anywhere and on anything. A vision of Lily’s golden hair formed in the flames, and Mac shoved aside the thought of her marrying Silas Everett in order to keep her home. He balled his fists. The very idea of the man touching her tensed Mac’s every muscle.

  But it was none of his business. What Lily Laughlin did or said and where she went—and with whom—was of no concern to him. As of tonight, they weren’t even friends.

  The finality of it caused a dull ache to lodge in Mac’s chest. Not since Mary had he gotten along so well with a member of the fairer sex.

  But that’s exactly what he wanted, wasn’t it? No diversions. He’d moved to Middletown for solitude on a rambling farm. The life of a recluse sounded so good in theory.

  Why, then, was he now having doubts?

  Mac opened his eyes to bright sunshine spilling into the bedroom. The sight cheered him. The rain had dissipated and now he could work on felling the trees for his cabin and leveling the barn’s floor before building commenced.

  Rolling onto his back, he stretched, noticing Blake had already risen. Soft mutters and constant shuffling on the far side of the room indicated his friend was dressing for the day. Mac decided to do the same and tossed aside the bedcovers. As his feet met the carpeted floor, a series of thuds filled the room followed by a terrific crash and then Blake’s moans.

  “What in heaven’s name is going on over there?”

  “Sorry to wake you up, Cap’n.” Blake appeared around the dressing screen, still wearing his nightshirt and rubbing his forehead. “Guess I got what I deserved for snoopin’.”

  “Snooping?” Mac strode toward him and noticed the tiny line of blood trickling down the side of Blake’s face. He stepped over to his frockcoat and plucked the handkerchief from his inside pocket. Handing it to Blake, he sized up the small puncture wound above the man’s left eye. “You’re bleeding, but I think you’ll live.”

  Blake grunted a laugh. “I been hit with worse than the corner of a metal box.”

  “What were you looking for?” Mac stepped toward the mess on the floor. Men’s fashionable top hats and other accessories, along with piles of folded documents, littered the floor.

  “Hilda said to help myself to anything, so that’s what I was doing.” He stepped lightly over the mess on the floor. “Look here, Cap’n.” He indicated a tiny room with shelves on three walls. “It’s a closet, chock-full of every kind of accessory a man could want.”

  Mac wagged his head. “This isn’t booty. These are Lily’s father’s belongings, Mrs. Gunther’s brother. Have you no respect for a dead man’s property?”

  “Well, sure I have, and I only meant to peek in the boxes. I never intended ’em to fall on my head.”

  Mac hunkered down and began accumulating the various items. He lifted a white powdered wig that curled at the temples. The style had fallen out of fashion some time ago, although there were men who couldn’t let go of the practice.

  Several small velvety pouches caught his eye, and Mac captured one by the drawstring. After peering inside, he poured its contents into his palm. Gold coins glimmered in his hand, aided by the sunlight streaming through the adjacent window.

  “Will you look at that! They’re guineas, Cap’n.”

  “So I see.”

  “How many?”

  Mac counted them. “Five and twenty.”

  “Twenty-five pounds and then some. And there’s twelve such pouches.” Blake collected them and tossed them to Mac. A quick inventory told him each pouch contained the same amount.

  “How much all together, Cap’n?” The excitement in Blake’s voice made Mac smile. What’s more, it sent relief spiraling through him. Lily and her family were not penniless.

  “It’s three hundred pounds, more or less.”

  “A English gent could live quite comfor’bly on that amount in London. Maybe more so here in
Virginia.”

  “Yes, I’m sure the cost of living is quite a bit lower here in Middletown than in London.” Mac stood. “You know that this means?”

  “The Laughlins aren’t dependent on that overbearin’ fop, that’s what it means. And look here …” Blake collected a fistful of paper bits in all different shapes and sizes. “It seems a whole gaggle of men were indebted to Mr. Laughlin.” Blake did his best to sober. “May he rest in peace.”

  “Wherever he is, I’m sure he’ll be resting much easier now that his family won’t have to rely on Everett—at least for a while. In fact, if they are mindful of their expenditures, these funds should sustain them until Lily is twenty-one and can legally replace Everett as guardian.”

  “I can’t wait to see Hilda’s face when she sees this money. Why, my findin’ it might just make up for me snoopin’.”

  Mac grinned. “You’d best hope so, old man. You’d best hope so.”

  “We shouldn’t tell the boys.” Lily stared at the coins piled on Papa’s bed. She had assumed Mr. Everett had taken possession of Papa’s money and that it was gone. And perhaps Mr. Everett believed the sum was gone, hence his selling a parcel of their land to Mac. But they were not penniless. “Jonah and Jed would likely let it slip, and without the protection of a man, we’d be at the mercy of thieves.” Why did the image of Mr. Everett flash across her mind?

  “That’s probably wise, given your brothers’ ages.” Mac’s soothing deep voice penetrated her anxious thoughts, and the tenderness in his raven gaze lent her a measure of confidence. “Besides, I feel quite sorry for the thief who enters this house, given your ability with a pistol, Miss Laughlin.”

  “How do you know I have any ability? I didn’t fire Papa’s weapon. I merely pointed it at you.”

  Aunt Hilda gave a startled cry. “Lily, you didn’t!”

  “It was their first day here, Aunt, and I thought these two were trespassers.” She waved her hand in the air, hoping to quell further discussion on this subject.

  A warm breeze blew in, fluttering the heavy drapes.

  “Anyway, it’s over with. Captain Albright and Mr. Blake have forgiven me.”