Mrs. Hawkins seated everyone around the dinner table. A knot formed in Mac’s chest when Lily sat beside him. Mrs. Kasper and the reverend’s places were directly across the table. The ladies, close to their hostess, and the men, near their host, most likely for the sake of conversation.
After politely holding Lily’s chair, Mac lowered himself into his. At least with her next to him at the table, he would escape her captivating blue eyes. But if he’d overheard correctly, only minutes ago, she exclaimed something about the cur who broke her heart being … alive? Surely Mac hadn’t heard correctly. After all, it was a fact that he was lousy at eavesdropping. Years of standing too close to firing cannons had dulled that sense, and yet, he always heard Lily’s voice—even in his dreams.
The reverend stood and called for everyone’s attention. “At Mr. and Mrs. Hawkinses’ request, I agreed to ask the blessing on our meal.”
He prayed, and Mrs. Hawkins began passing dishes. Mac’s stomach gurgled with anticipation. While Blake ate three hearty meals a day, courtesy of Mrs. Gunther, Mac hadn’t eaten much at all these past few days, and he was famished.
“Captain, I hope you won’t find us too presumptuous,” James Hawkins began, “but several of us townsmen, including myself, would like to offer our skill and muscle to help build you a barn.”
Mac wondered if Lily had anything to do with the offer. “Well, I—”
“It’s a way we like to welcome newcomers,” the reverend added.
“Yes, and those of us participating figure we can give you a couple of hours at the end of the day beginning next week.” James took a quick bite of his dinner. “We’ll likely complete the project in a fortnight.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you.” Mac would be crazy not to accept. Father’s crew still had not arrived. “Thank you.”
“All we ask,” Mrs. Kasper put in, “is that you host a party afterward—to christen your new barn. We women will bring all the food you men can eat.”
“But of course the gathering must end early enough”—the reverend waved a finger—“so that no one is late for church the next morning.”
Chuckles flitted around the table, but it was the lilt in Lily’s soft laugh that captivated him.
Except captive implied many things—things like commitment to a woman, marriage, children. Mac battled to rid his mind of such notions daily. First things first. He needed to succeed at this endeavor!
The conversation shifted to James’s admitted favorite topics: farming and profitable crops. Mac listened carefully, as he wanted to be proficient with crops next year. He marveled at the way James’s young wife, Isabella, added to the conversation. Clearly, she was James’s helpmeet, that biblical reference that Mac had heard bandied about during his school days.
Mrs. Hawkins laughed softly at something James just said. Her face glowed beneath the light of the tapers. The love the young couple had for each other was as obvious as the rain splattering against the windows.
Two bites of food later, Mac started fearing his hovel would be completely flooded when he returned. Puddles had been accumulating when he’d left for the Hawkins’ place with Blake’s mutters following him to the pike.
“Wait till you taste Issie’s strawberry and rhubarb cake.” James wagged his head, and several strands of his brown hair slipped from their queue. “Rhubarb is a wonder, all right. Grows like a vegetable, but tastes like a fruit—a bitter fruit until sugar is added.”
“It cooks up nicely,” Mrs. Hawkins said, “and when I added my sweet, ripe strawberries, I preserved much more than last year.”
“I purchased the root stock from a Massachusetts salesman.” James held his fork just above his plate. “He claimed rhubarb is gaining in popularity in New England.”
“I’ve heard of rhubarb from my trips to the Orient,” Mac said between mouthfuls of the tasty chicken and dumplings. “It’s noted for its medicinal qualities, although I couldn’t tell you which ones.”
“How very interesting, Captain.” Mrs. Kasper smiled. “Won’t you miss your seafaring days by becoming a lowly farmer in Middletown?”
“Not at all, madam. I’m glad to be away from the seashore, and I’m eager to test my book knowledge of caring for animals, planting, growing, and harvesting fruits and vegetables.”
“And you won’t find Middletown dull?” The woman tipped her head in a way that reminded Mac of his mother.
“Not at all.” He noticed Lily kept her gaze averted.
Good!
True, she and her family had made his first week in Middletown quite exciting, but now Mac was determined to be serious about his work on his new property. He and Blake had been pulling down rotted fence posts, and Mac would see to getting the floor of the barn leveled. The scattered plashes of rainwater today told him that the floor was anything but even.
Pounding at the front door halted the table talk. Mac stifled a grin when James grudgingly pushed to his feet. The lag in conversation allowed him several more bites of his dinner. He selected a flaky biscuit from the bread basket parked in front of James’s placemat and took a bite of buttery goodness.
“My compliments on the meal, Mrs. Hawkins.” Mac dabbed the corners of his mouth. “Everything is delicious.”
“Why, thank you, sir.” His hostess’s eyes glided to Lily, who sipped her fruity wine but said nothing.
Part of Mac longed to engage her in conversation, but the other part—the practical part—wanted to encourage her to ignore him all the more.
Even so, he supposed he owed Lily an explanation for his sudden turnabout. He avoided discussing the matter—and her—because he hated to hurt her feelings.
But there was always a chance she’d understand.
James returned and stood behind his wife. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Lily, that was Mr. Temmes at the door, speaking on behalf of Mr. Everett. Evidently your guardian has sent his carriage for you due to the inclement weather.”
“He is not my guardian, though he’s given himself the title.”
James lifted his shoulders. “The wind has picked up and it’s raining harder. Mr. Everett is concerned that the pike will flood and he won’t get that ostentatious carriage of his back to the inn. Therefore, he’s requesting that you leave here at once.”
“I’ve been rained on before.” Lily lifted her chin.
Stubborn woman. She ought to gratefully accept the ride so she didn’t catch her death. Mac glanced around the table. The Kaspers and Mrs. Hawkins stared at their dinner plates.
“Actually, Mr. Everett is not requesting.” James’s tone turned iron hard. “He is insisting, and he’s waiting in the carriage for you.”
“It’s probably best you go, Lily,” the reverend said with a glance at Mac.
It’s none of my business. Mac decided to focus on his wine glass. He brought it to his lips and drained the liquid, enjoying the way the grape mixture warmed his insides. It rivaled imported Madeira. Did the Hawkinses have grapevines on their farm and make the wine, or had they purchased it? If the former, perhaps he could cultivate such a vineyard. His father could ship it all over the globe.
Lily set her linen napkin on the table and stood. Mac and Reverend Kasper politely did so as well.
“I’ll fetch your cloak.” Mrs. Hawkins left the dinner table and disappeared into the kitchen.
“Thank you for inviting me tonight.” Lily kept her gaze trained on James. “I’ve enjoyed myself immensely.”
“A pity we were only getting started with our fellowship.”
Lily set her hand on James’s arm. Then, after throwing out a parting smile that landed on no one in particular, she left the room.
Guilt the size of a schooner’s mainsail billowed inside Mac. He knew full well that the last thing Lily wanted was to be alone with Silas Everett. Blast it all! How could Mac deny a friend in her time of need?
Except she wasn’t a friend.
Although she didn’t know that yet.
“Perhaps
I shall request a ride home and save myself another soaking.” At Mac’s announcement, the mood in the room suddenly lightened.
“A fine idea.” James wore a wide smile before dashing to the front door and halting Lily.
Mac came up behind him.
“Our friend wishes to beg a ride home.” James clapped Mac behind the shoulder blades. “I’m sure Mr. Everett won’t mind sharing his coach.”
For the first time all evening, Lily met Mac’s gaze. A tenuous little smile danced across her lips. “No, I’m sure Mr. Everett won’t mind at all.”
Lily took Mac’s proffered arm. The rain pelted them as they hurried to the awaiting carriage. Mr. Temmes, the driver, opened the door. Mac assisted Lily inside before propelling his brawn into the coach. He sat beside Lily, and Mr. Temmes closed the door.
Sitting across from them, Mr. Everett rapped on the ceiling, signaling his driver onward. An awkward sort of silence settled over them.
“Did you enjoy your little dinner party, Lily?” Mr. Everett’s voice sounded tight and, in the darkness, it seemed devoid of a physical body. “A cozy gathering, I assume.”
“A pity our dinner was interrupted,” Mac grumbled.
Lily shivered and tugged on her cloak. Disappointment, like the damp chill in the air, seeped into her bones. Mac had changed. He was no longer an agreeable fellow, a friend, and she mourned the loss.
“Well, you needn’t have left the party, Captain.” Mr. Everett gave a pompous sniff, one Lily heard frequently. “I’ve been meaning to ask, does one still address you as ‘Captain’? You’re no longer in military service.”
“If you wish, you may refer to me as Mr. Albright. I answer to both.”
Lily couldn’t keep silent. “But addressing you as your former military rank is a show of respect, is it not?”
She felt Mac stiffen beside her. Obviously, she’d said the wrong thing.
“Ah, Miss Laughlin, I’m proud of you.” Mr. Everett copped his usual condescending tone that seemed reserved for Lily. “Obviously you have read the book I gave you on ladies’ etiquette.”
“I did, indeed, sir.”
“Then I shall refer to Middletown’s newest citizen as Captain Albright.”
Mac faced the rattling glass window. Water trickled down the pane. “Thank you for sharing your carriage, Mr. Everett. I hope you don’t mind my intrusion.”
“Of course not.”
“Well, the two of you share the same destination,” Lily said. “It only seems logical that you would travel back to the inn together.”
“Oh, no, my dear, the captain and his friend checked out of my inn over a week ago.” A note of mockery tainted Mr. Everett’s otherwise smooth tenor. “Apparently they prefer a shanty that the captain hastily threw together to the comfort of my rented rooms.”
“A shanty?” The carriage rolled over a bumpy stretch, sending Lily bouncing into Mac’s arm. “Where have you constructed such a place … and why?”
“On my property, of course, and I have my reasons.”
Lily felt thoroughly rebuked. “Of course.”
The carriage hit a rut, throwing Lily forward. Mac caught her before she slammed against Mr. Everett’s knobby knees, then he tucked her hand beneath his elbow. The conveyance lurched again, and Lily clung to his arm a little tighter. He slid his warm hand over her fingers. An act of contrition for his harsh tone? Whatever the reason, a tiny thrill passed through her. In the darkness Mr. Everett couldn’t see their shared intimacy, which made it oddly thrilling.
A frown began weighing heavy on her brow. But if Mac despised her, why was he holding her hand? She had been sure that he was miffed at her for some silly reason, one she could not fathom. Yet, he left a warm home and Issie’s delicious chicken and dumplings for a damp, bone-jarring carriage ride. And the way he held her hand so secretly and with the utmost tenderness … What did it all mean?
Mac cleared his throat. “I felt it would be more of an incentive to build my barn and home if I wasn’t in a soft bed each night.”
“Indeed.” Mr. Everett snorted as the carriage swayed to and fro. “Mr. Blake said your hut is regrettably flooded, so you may well be uncomfortable tonight.”
“I’ve been wetter.”
The temptation rose up in Lily to offer Papa’s room as temporary shelter, but she held her tongue. He would most likely refuse anyway.
“Of course, you and Mr. Blake are welcome to take refuge at the Stony Inn tonight.” Mr. Everett’s voice returned to its familiar haughtiness.
“Thank you, sir, but no.”
Foolish, perplexing man. Why would he not accept Mr. Everett’s offer?
After a few more jolts and jostles, the carriage pulled to a halt on the pike.
“I dare not ask Mr. Temmes to attempt your drive, Lily.” Mr. Everett’s tone was quite matter of fact. “The carriage wheels will sink for sure.”
“It’s not a problem. I appreciate the ride.” Even though it was only a mile’s jaunt from James and Issie’s farm.
Mac released her. “I, too, am grateful, sir.” He climbed out and extended his hand to Lily.
She clasped it and pulled the hood of her cape around her head before jogging to the front door. Surprisingly, Mac followed her.
“Please come in and I’ll make you some hot tea or coffee.”
“That’s not necessary. I merely want to speak with Blake.” He paused. “I presume he’s warming himself inside your home.”
“Of course.” The razor-sharp edge in his voice wounded her. “But first perhaps you’d like to tell me what I’ve done to offend you. We were friends the Sunday before last, but recently you’ve behaved like you hate me. Then in the carriage just now—”
“I owe you an explanation, yes.”
“Please enlighten me.” Lily stood just inside the house, allowing Mac only a few feet of shelter.
“You have not offended me.”
“Then what has caused your briny mood?”
“Can we discuss this another time?”
Lily tamped down the desire to say that now was as convenient a time as any, except Aunt Hilda’s call of welcome made her swallow the retort.
“Captain Albright!” Aunt Hilda peeled Lily’s cloak off her shoulders. “Give me your outerwear and I’ll hang it up to dry.”
“Actually, Mrs. Gunther, I can’t stay,” Mac said.
“In other words, he won’t stay.” Lily tasted her bitterness on her tongue. A more capricious man she’d never met! “I’ll find Mr. Blake at once.”
“He’s in the parlor near the fire.” Aunt Hilda’s tone was ripe with the same befuddlement that had rotted Lily’s mood.
She headed that way, but overheard her aunt add something about Mr. Blake getting soaked to the bone. Lily found the aged seaman in an upholstered armchair near the hearth. His shirt and trousers looked oddly familiar. Had they belonged to Papa?
He stood when she entered. “Greetings, Miss Lily. Did you enjoy the dinner party?”
“It was far too short to be much fun, I’m afraid.”
“I figured as much when Mr. Gilly Gaupus stormed out of here with intentions of fetching you with his carriage.”
She smiled at his somewhat tawdry term for Mr. Everett. “Yes, well, the captain rode along”—thank goodness!—“and now he’s in the entryway, wishing to speak with you.”
“Right-o.” Mr. Blake sauntered from the room, in no hurry it seemed.
Lily removed her gloves, crossed the Persian carpet, and stood with her hands outstretched toward the hearth. She shivered when the warmth of the fire met her chilled body. Although summer’s final days were upon them, today’s gloom and steady rain made it feel like the end of autumn.
Aunt Hilda’s exuberant pitch drew Lily’s attention. Footfalls thundered up the stairs. Then a long shadow fell across the room. Lily turned to find Mac standing in the doorway.
He leaned one shoulder against the archway. “It appears I’m staying for the night.”
&n
bsp; Lily turned back to the crackling hearth. The floorboards creaked in a familiar way and signaled Mac’s footsteps as he came up behind her.
“Your aunt has gone upstairs to ready your father’s room. I hope you don’t mind that Blake and I stay there for the night.”
“Why would I mind?” She swung around to face him. “It’s the neighborly thing to do, seeing as your shack is washed out. Of course, I didn’t know you were living in such conditions as Mr. Blake didn’t say anything about it.” Her arms went stiff at her side and she leaned toward him. “And you haven’t spoken to me in over a week! Not even a friendly wave across the meadow. All I received were scowls.”
“About that, Lily.”
“The Kaspers and the Hawkinses think you hate me now because of your surliness toward me.”
He cringed. “Lily …”
“And then you dare such intimacy as holding my hand in the carriage. Your actions went far beyond mere protection, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why.”
“My actions in the carriage are evidence of my true feelings, Lily. But I cannot—I won’t—give in to them.”
The fight drained out of her. “I don’t understand.”
With stealth-like movements, he stepped beside her and put his elbow on the mantel.
“Allow me to be candid.”
“As you wish.” She glanced toward the doorway. Presumably Mr. Blake had followed Aunt Hilda upstairs, and the boys were in their bedroom. “I think we’re guaranteed a few minutes’ privacy, so speak your mind.”
Mac’s chest expanded with the depth of his next breath. “I don’t want to be your friend, Lily.”
His words stung, though she pretended otherwise. “Yes, so I gathered.” She looked away. “But I hope that doesn’t mean we’re enemies.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Oh? And what do you presume that I think?” Despite her efforts, snips of cynicism made their way out of her mouth.
My Heart Belongs in the Shenandoah Valley Page 11