“Well, he is only human.”
“True enough.”
Lily watched her aunt flit around the sewing room like a hummingbird and remembered Mr. Blake’s marriage proposal and his plans to leave the day after tomorrow.
“Aunt, you ought to be enjoying the party next door.”
“Nonsense. I’m needed here.”
“I’m feeling better now. Besides, Mr. Blake is probably lonesome. You have precious little time to enjoy each other’s company.”
Aunt Hilda stood quietly beneath a shaft of moonlight, her gaze never wavering from Lily. Was she considering a jaunt next door?
“Truly, I don’t mind if you go.”
“Well …” Aunt Hilda untied her apron strings. “I should probably check on the food. It wouldn’t do if we ran out.”
“It would not do at all. Besides, my pain is subsiding by the minute.” Lily wiggled the fingers on her right hand then stretched her toes. Indeed, the agonizing soreness had been sufficiently muted. “In truth, I would feel worse, Aunt, if you were deprived of Mr. Blake’s company on account of me.”
“Oh, bah!” She straightened the many blankets and quilts piled on top of Lily. “Well, perhaps I’ll go over and make sure your brothers are behaving.”
“Please do, otherwise Mrs. Kasper might change her mind about accepting them into her classroom.” Lily caught her aunt’s wrist. “I don’t mean to complain, but I’m overly warm, Aunt. Perhaps fewer coverings.”
“Another sign you’re improving.” One by one, Aunt Hilda peeled off the layers, folded them, and set them aside. “Earlier today, I couldn’t keep you warm enough.”
Lily scooted higher up on the daybed. “May I attempt to rise and use the chamber pot?”
Aunt Hilda sailed from the room and returned with the porcelain container. With her aunt’s assistance, Lily rose from bed and relieved herself. Aunt Hilda took the contents and tossed them out the side window, opposite the direction of Mac’s property. Then she brushed Lily’s hair and helped her walk back to the daybed.
Lily collapsed onto it, her limbs as weak as a newborn foal’s.
“Better?”
“Yes, thank you.” The minor exertion had exhausted her and she vowed never again to take for granted the inconsequential ablutions of her daily toilette.
Lying back on the daybed, her head slightly elevated due to its slope at one end, Lily was more than happy to allow Aunt Hilda to situate her. She had done amazingly well thus far. Somehow nightclothes covered her instead of the gown that she recalled wearing …
When Mac threw her into the creek.
And then their kiss. And then their next one …
Lily was suddenly grateful for the darkness that concealed the sudden flush in her cheeks. She hoped her aunt wouldn’t question her about how she happened to tumble into the creek. Or had Mac already provided answers? Her foggy memory told her he had.
“All right, then. I’ll go next door.” Aunt Hilda filled the tin cup on the table beside Lily with liquid. “Water,” she explained as if sensing Lily’s unspoken query. “It’s my belief that the more you drink, the faster the venom will wash through your veins.”
“Then I will drain my cup by the time you return.”
“I hope to find you fast asleep by the time I return.”
Lily smiled at her aunt’s militant tone. “Yes, ma’am.” She yawned. “See, I’m drowsy already.”
A slam. Lily jolted awake. Had it been a dream? In her present state it was difficult to differentiate the earthly from the ethereal. But perhaps the wind blew the door shut when Aunt Hilda left.
She gazed at the open window. The moon’s glow had waned since her previous glance, indicating the passing of time. Perhaps Aunt Hilda had returned home, although the heavy footfalls in the hall didn’t belong to Aunt Hilda, and they were too slow and deliberate to be her brothers or even Mr. Everett.
Lily inched herself upward on the daybed as an imposing shadow filled the entryway.
“Lily?” came the whispered voice. “You awake?”
“I am, Captain.” She spoke in her normal pitch.
“May I come in?”
“Yes, of course.” She smiled as he crossed the room. “Are you sorry you tossed me into the creek?”
A sharp, quick chuckle split the darkness. “Not a bit.”
Her laugh turned to a moan when Lily inadvertently jiggled her right arm.
“Are you in very much pain?”
“Evidently, yes, although the laudanum my aunt gave me reduced it to tolerable.”
Mac folded his frame into the chair Aunt Hilda had vacated.
“I understand your party is a success.”
“Yes …” He sat forward, his forearms on his thighs. “So I’ve been told.”
“And have Middletown’s young ladies been swarming around you like honeybees around their hive?”
“I can’t be certain. Thus far I have managed to evade them.”
“Even Cynthia Clydesdale? She possesses charm enough for any man.”
“Not this man.” He sat back. “Besides, I don’t know which of the … honeybees she is.”
“She’s the one who buzzes the loudest.”
“Ah.” Mac stood, closed the distance between them, and touched the backs of his fingers to Lily’s forehead. He then hunkered beside the daybed and a piney, masculine scent made its way to her nose. “Your aunt told me your fever abated. It appears it’s still gone, which is good news.”
“My headache has vanished too.” Lily noticed his abrupt change in subject. Then again, Aunt Hilda said he’d been concerned. “I’m feeling much better.”
“Which is a relief, to be sure.”
Lily pondered his remark. “I hope you don’t blame yourself. I’ve been swimming in Cedar Creek and climbing those rocks practically all my life. I’ve never encountered a snake face-to-face. God always kept them at bay, like in Psalm ninety-one, where He promises that we will tread on lions and serpents and they won’t harm us.” When Mac didn’t respond, her curiosity grew. “Why do you think God didn’t protect me this time?”
“I’m hardly an expert on God, but if forced to answer—”
“Consider yourself forced.” Curiosity gripped her.
He grunted a laugh. “Then I’d say that God did protect you. It could have been so much worse, but here you are, back among the living, breathing, talking to me. Your aunt called it ‘answered prayer.’”
“And what do you call it?”
“A miracle.”
Lily would have called it a curse or, at the very least, punishment for sharing intimacies with Mac in the creek.
Mac’s shadowed features were indiscernible, but the breath that left his lungs spoke volumes. “I feared the worst, Lily. I thought you would perish like—”
“Like Mary?” Lily stretched out her hand to him.
Mac captured it between both his palms. “For the first time in a very long while, I felt something, something more powerful than life itself. I tasted it, smelled it, and it was all too familiar.”
“What was it?”
“Fear. Raw, unadulterated fear.”
“For me?”
“Yes.” He brought her hand to his lips, sending a current up her arm.
“Then may you fear no more. As you can see, I’m much improved.”
“Words cannot describe the happiness in my heart at the news.”
“Then go and enjoy your party, Mac. I will be well soon enough.”
He stroked her cheek and Lily noted something different about him. She touched his jaw and smiled. “You shaved off your whiskers.”
“So to make nothing about me unpleasant.”
Lily’s smile lingered. “I believe I acclimated, sir.”
“Indeed.”
A blush worked its way up her neck and warmed her cheeks. Lily was grateful for the darkness between them.
Strains of music competed for her attention—and won. “I wish I had been able to a
ttend your party. You wouldn’t have escaped me. I would have made sure you danced.” She churned out a sigh of longing. “I do so enjoy the fiddlers. And I presume Mr. Blake is playing along on his squeeze-box.”
“He is—and doing a fine job of it.”
“Oh, how I long to be there. I’ve only been hearing faint strains of the music. Is Mr. Crocker playing his fife?”
“I believe so, although I didn’t catch his name. I met most of Middletown tonight. It’ll take me a while to remember everyone’s name.”
“Then you, of course, are forgiven.” Lily tried to hear more of the music, but it got lost in a gust of wind.
“Allow me to make your wishes come true, Princess.”
Her pulse quickened when she guessed his intentions. “I cannot go. I’m in bedclothes with my right arm tied up tight, and my legs feel like Aunt Hilda’s mint jelly.”
He kissed her forehead and got to his feet. “I shall return shortly.”
“No, wait …” Lily reached for the tails of his frockcoat but missed. The attempt left her feeling exhausted. “Mac, please come back!”
As if possessing the strength of ten men, Mac lifted the wrought iron bench from the yard and set it down in a secluded area in the orchard. When Mrs. Gunther had shown up at his party and exclaimed that Lily’s fever was gone and that she was awake and talking, Mac had to come and see the miracle for himself.
And now he’d make her wish come true.
He set his hands on his hips and scanned the yard. Buzzing insects, croaking toads, and tree frogs sang dissonant night songs while the fiddler’s foot-stomping tune carried across the creek. Perfect. They wouldn’t easily be seen and Lily would hear the music.
Satisfied, Mac strode back to the house. Entering the sewing room, he rubbed his palms together. “Are you ready, Princess?”
“Ready for what?”
Hearing the suspicion in Lily’s tone, Mac grinned. He crossed the room and carefully helped her stand. Then, after gently wrapping a quilt around her, he scooped her into his arms.
“Feeling all right?”
“So far.” She giggled and set her forehead against his jaw, obviously intoxicated with the medicine’s effects. “Funny, but I seem to always end up in your arms, Captain.”
He smiled. “Irony at its best.”
“But please don’t take me to the dance. I’m sure I make a disastrous sight.”
“You’re beautiful, Lily.” Mac meant every word. If she only knew how frightened he’d been the past couple of days. Somehow he couldn’t imagine the world deprived of Lily’s gift of song and his life devoid of the light she brought to it. “However, I don’t intend to share your company tonight, so rest easy.”
Her head lolled against his shoulder as if it proved too heavy for her to hold up. Well, he’d only keep her out for a few minutes. Just long enough for her to enjoy a song or two.
Mac reached the bench and gently set Lily on her feet.
“Are there snakes in this grass?”
“Most likely. But they won’t bother us.” He wrapped the quilt more tightly around her, mindful of her injured arm, then sat and pulled her onto his lap.
“I don’t want them to creep up into my covering. And what if another poisonous viper finds me?”
“Shh, Lily. Someone might hear us.”
She collapsed against him.
“You must not allow your fear to affect your common sense.” Mac kept his voice to a whisper. Perhaps she’d bury his advice deep in her subconscious and recollect it tomorrow, after the medicine wore off. “Snakes are more afraid of us than we are of them.”
“Not the viper that struck me. He was aggressive … and evil.”
“On the contrary. You most likely startled him, and he reacted on his instinct to defend himself.” Mac readjusted the precious burden on his lap. “Besides, how do we know that serpent was a he?”
She responded with a soft laugh that sent a measure of amusement coursing through him. He’d successfully steered her away from her fear.
A burst of music resounded through the orchard, followed by several shouts of “yip!” and “yeehaw!”
“The musicians sound good tonight.” Lily pressed her left forearm into his shoulder and drew herself upright. “Oh, and I can hear chords from Mr. Blake’s squeeze-box.”
Mac’s heart grew double its size. Such a simple, yet sweet success to bring her a measure of happiness after what she’d gone through.
Again she rested her head against his shoulder and hummed along with the tune. Pleasing Lily certainly had its rewards. Mac rested his head against hers.
She moved slightly. “I love you, Mac.”
Her words wrapped around his soul, claiming him for all time. He didn’t mind—not anymore, not since he’d glimpsed into the dark abyss that was his life without love. Without Lily. True, it hadn’t been his plan to succumb to such binding emotions, but fate would have its way. In a desperate plea earlier today, he’d promised God his own life if only the Almighty would spare Lily’s.
The stars above glinted with shining victory.
As for his need to succeed, well, somehow he’d figure out a way. While in India on a voyage with Taylor Osborn commanding the frigate, he’d heard a saying; “Everything works out in the end. If it hasn’t, it’s not the end.” Memories of his studies of the Holy Bible as a boy rose to the surface of his mind and recalled something similar. God was sovereign. He was in control.
Yes, everything would work out in the end.
“Did you hear me, Mac? I love you.”
“I heard every word, Princess, and once you’re feeling better, we’ll discuss the matter at length.”
“I feel fine.”
Mac chuckled. “I’m sure you do, with snake venom, laudanum, and your aunt’s cider coursing through your veins.”
“A powerful drink, my aunt’s concoction. My pain is practically gone.”
“Good.” Mac cupped her head and pressed it against his shoulder. “Rest now, Lily, and enjoy the music.”
She stilled, and a warm breeze brushed over them. Mac set his shoulders against the back of the bench. He sat through the rest of the tunes. The small group of musicians did, indeed, sound quite good. When the music died away, activity spilled from the barn. If Mac wasn’t mistaken, his guests availed themselves of the food tables. Such an array of delectables he hadn’t seen in a long while.
Female laughter near the stone bridge reached his ears. All evening lovers had been strolling across it, but from what Mac saw, no one ambled into the orchard. Even so, it was time to get Lily back to her bed. “Lily,” he whispered against her cool forehead.
Soft, steady breathing was his only reply. She’d fallen asleep.
Had it only been dream?
Lily’s foggy memory conjured up images of herself in Mac’s arms. Had they been in attendance at the party?
No. Except she recalled hearing music. She glanced down at her nightgown. How could that be? She’d worn this same nightwear since last evening when she awakened from her fevered state. Alas, it truly had been a dream—but a marvelous, beautiful dream, to be sure.
Scuffling boots directly above her signaled Jonah and Jed’s activity in the chamber they shared. Most likely they dressed for church. By the continued sound and occasional thud, followed by Jed’s wails, Lily guessed the two were quarreling.
She attempted to sit up. She’d give those boys an earful for picking at each other on the Lord’s Day. Her feet touched the carpeted floor as pain tore through her right arm. The room swam and Lily’s stomach pitched.
She sat unmoving for a moment and held her forehead in her left palm. Oh, if the world would only right itself.
The door creaked open. Lily lifted her gaze to find Aunt Hilda’s disapproving frown above the large wooden tray she carried.
“Trying to get up, were you?” The hem of her plum gown brushed softly against the tops of her black laced boots. She set down the tray and helped Lily back onto
the daybed and tucked the quilt around her. “Now, here, eat some porridge and a biscuit. You need to rebuild your strength.”
Lily allowed Aunt Hilda to arrange the tray on her lap, but the smell of food caused a knot to form in the back of her throat.
“One bite at a time, dearie,” Aunt Hilda said, as if reading Lily’s thoughts.
She complied, taking a spoonful of the porridge over which her aunt had drizzled honey. One bite did, indeed, lead to another.
“That’s a girl.” Her aunt smiled obvious approval then she bustled around the room, opening draperies and straightening furniture.
“Did you enjoy the party last night?”
Aunt Hilda glanced over her shoulder. “Very much. But I’m especially grateful that your fever is gone.”
“Thanks to your nursing.”
“Thanks to the Almighty!”
“Indeed!” Lily watched her aunt move about. “And Mr. Blake—did he have fun?”
“Did he ever.” Aunt Hilda’s eyes twinkled. “I’d say the captain’s barn is now properly christened.”
“You’ll miss him after he leaves, won’t you?” Lily lifted the biscuit to her lips. She hated to think her aunt might be heartbroken in the days to come.
“Aw, yes, but he’ll be back. It’s like I’ve been telling John, if the good Lord wills our union, then so it shall be.”
Lily found much comfort in those words, especially when she thought of Mr. Everett and whatever diabolical plans he had in mind for her family. “Aunt, do you really think Papa gambled away our Haus am Bach?”
“It’s possible, I suppose, and I won’t call Mr. Everett an outright liar on mere suspicion, but more’s the chance he’s up to no good.”
Lily’s sunny mood vanished behind a cloud of doom. “Oh, Aunt, how remiss I was to allow him so much control after Papa died.”
“You didn’t have a choice, Lily, and you were in a state of shock. We all were.” Aunt Hilda stood over her and frowned. “Come, now, another spoonful of that porridge.”
“Was Mr. Everett at the captain’s party last night?”
“Yes, surprisingly. And I saw him shake the captain’s hand in the most cordial of ways.” She quirked a brow. “Made me wonder what Mr. Everett’s up to next.”
My Heart Belongs in the Shenandoah Valley Page 17
