My Heart Belongs in the Shenandoah Valley

by Andrea Boeshaar

  “Right you are about that, lass.” Mr. Blake stood by, grinning.

  “Indeed we have.” Mac quirked a grin then returned his focus to the coins.

  “I don’t want Mr. Everett to get his hands on this money.” Lily looked to Mac for additional advice. “Do you think he knows about it?”

  “I doubt it. Everett strikes me as a man who wouldn’t leave it here if he did.”

  “Cap’n is right.” Mr. Blake copped a wide stance, his fists on his hips. “Besides, the box was wedged in tight on the shelf and topped with a fine layer of dust.”

  “And a blessing you found it, my little apple dumpling.” Aunt Hilda pulled on Mr. Blake’s cheek, sending a shadow of crimson across the weathered seaman’s face.

  Lily giggled, wondering how Mac could continue his brooding.

  “If I were you, Miss Laughlin”—he said, ignoring the mutual affection going on between the older couple—“I’d pop up a corner floorboard and stash the money beneath it.”

  “What a good idea. I wouldn’t have thought of that hiding place.”

  “And it appears the loans your father made were small. Were I in your place, I would return the slips of paper to their signers and forgive their debts. This will rally those men to your side, should you find yourself opposite Mr. Everett in court. He is, after all, your legal guardian.”

  “That’s true …” Lily supposed the right thing to do was to inform Mr. Everett of the money. But then he would take it, and she might be forced into marrying the man. On the other hand, this newly found small fortune would buy her time. She could now afford to remain single.

  Still, it wouldn’t last forever. Lily needed to figure out what to do with her life. Becoming a governess was a respectable position, but then what did she do with her brothers? And the thought of giving up her home was almost as bad as the notion of marrying Mr. Everett.

  “The boys should be done gathering eggs,” Aunt Hilda said. “How about a nice hot breakfast before we begin our daily routines?”

  Mr. Blake was on Aunt Hilda’s heels as she left the room.

  Lily began scooping coins into pouches, not caring how many were in each. She’d only make use of a coin or two now and again. Otherwise she was liable to raise suspicion.

  “This money will buy you some time, Lily.” Mac’s voice fell over her like a cloak of deep velvet. “You needn’t fear Everett’s marriage proposal, supposing it comes. You have choices.”

  “I know. Thank you.” She met Mac’s gaze. “And you needn’t fear me. I’m not husband-hunting. Truly, I never was.”

  His features hardened and Lily looked away. So he was determined to be more of an adversary than a friend. Fine. So be it.

  He said nothing, but his booted gait clapped a steady rhythm against the floor all across the room and into the hallway. His footfalls grew faint as he descended the stairs, and then Lily couldn’t hear them anymore.

  “I noticed that neither Captain Albright nor his friend Mr. Blake have graced our dinner table for two weeks.”

  Mr. Everett’s smile wriggled like an angleworm across his thin lips, and Lily didn’t miss the possessiveness in his statement. Our dinner table? Could the man get any more presumptuous?

  “Rather refreshing, I think. Silence is, indeed, golden.”

  Lily stared at her plate to hide her hurt.

  “The captain and Mr. Blake are working from morning to night.” Jed spooned a bite of venison stew into his mouth.

  Lily stabbed a potato. “Jed’s right. There’s quite a lot of activity going on next door.” But, alas, the barn’s christening had been put off for another week. According to Issie, the old foundation was in need of more repairs than first assumed, and Mr. Talbot, the mason, was busy with another job.

  Lily ate the potato, musing as she chewed. From what she’d glimpsed between the trees and what the boys reported to her, the construction was humming right along.

  “Have you been across the creek to visit the captain and see the beginnings of his new barn, Lily?”

  It sounded like an accusation, and she clenched her jaw. “No, sir. The captain and I are not friends.” At her brother’s curious frowns, she added, “As it should be between an unattached female and a bachelor.”

  “Absolutely correct, dear Lily.”

  She heard the approval in the man’s voice and cringed. She despised Mr. Everett’s compliments as much as his admonishments. As far as Mac was concerned, Lily had caught him watching her while she weeded the flower garden last Tuesday morning. And then, he walked through the orchard on Friday while she and the boys picked the last of the ripening pears. He joked with her brothers but didn’t say a word to her. Lily pretended she didn’t care.

  But she did.

  Honking geese flew past the open window, signaling autumn’s arrival.

  “The man has let himself go.” Mr. Everett cut an already bite-sized piece of carrot and nibbled on it. “The captain now resembles a trapper who stayed in the mountains too long.”

  “What’s wrong with mountain men?” Jonah glanced up from his meal. “The ones I see at the trading post don’t cause trouble. They leave town about as fast as they come in.”

  Lily swung her gaze to Mr. Everett, anticipating a snide reply.

  Jed spoke up first. “Captain Albright said his whiskers keep ladies from fawning all over him.”

  Lily rolled her eyes and Aunt Hilda chuckled.

  “I have never had a single woman complain.” Mr. Everett kneaded his smooth jaw and Lily lost her appetite. “Then again, I keep a neat appearance.”

  “Unlike you, sir, the captain is too busy for ladies.” Jonah forked food into his mouth.

  “For your information, I am an extremely busy man myself. I have newly purchased slaves who need taming, and customers who depend on me.”

  A glance around the table told Lily no one seemed impressed, least of all herself. Worse, the last of the respect she had for him blew away on the wind when he announced some days back that he’d bought slaves to work at his inn. Imagine, buying human beings like one purchases farm animals! The practice was morally wrong. She had made her feelings known—and suffered Mr. Everett’s many admonishments. The man’s arrogance annoyed her more than ever. His subtle reminders that she and her family were in his debt had worn out their welcome.

  Besides, they weren’t true.

  “Master Jonah, you and I have never gotten a chance to get to know each other.” Mr. Everett set down his fork. “I have business in Alexandria and, as you know, Mr. Blake will be setting off for the same location soon.” He leaned forward as if to tempt Jonah, who sat across the table from him. “Would you like to join me? I’ll make sure you see clippers and schooners to your heart’s content.”

  “Would I ever!” Jonah’s face lit up like a thousand stars on a clear summer’s night.

  “Now, wait a moment.” Lily wanted to pound her fist on the table. Mr. Everett hadn’t consulted her, and school would begin after harvesttime. It had taken some pleading and one of Aunt Hilda’s fruit pies to convince Mrs. Kasper to allow Jonah and Jed back into her classroom.

  “And, Master Jed, would you also like to embark on this adventure?”

  “Sure I would!” He turned toward Lily with puppy dog eyes. “Please, sissy, let me go too.”

  “I haven’t even given my permission for Jonah to go.”

  “We don’t need your permission.” With an arched brow, Mr. Everett sipped from his wineglass. “I am these boys’ legal guardian.”

  “That means we can go!” Jonah pumped a fist into the air as if he were cheering on a cockfight.

  Lily’s patience came to an abrupt halt. She stood so fast she knocked over her chair.

  Aunt Hilda gasped.

  “Mr. Everett, if you take my brothers on this trip when they ought to be in school, I will never forgive you!”

  “Oh, bah!” Mr. Everett chuckled lightly. “You will forgive me because it’s your nature, so stop your theatrics.”<
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  Lily’s knees turned to pudding beneath swarming rage. Thoughts of the hidden coinage gave her courage to react. “Get out! Get out of my house this minute.” She rounded the table and removed Mr. Everett’s bowl and goblet. “I am tired of your highhandedness, sir. I’m sick to death of your insults, reprimands, and idle prattle, so leave at once and find yourself another supper table.”

  Mr. Everett didn’t budge. “I think you’re forgetting something, Lily.”

  “No, I am not forgetting anything.”

  “This is my house now.”

  “I’m afraid I will have to see proof of that, sir.”

  “Very well. I can provide you with the documents, although you won’t understand them. All you need to know is the deed is in my name.” Mr. Everett’s tone sounded deadly calm. “If anyone should leave the manor, it should be … you.”

  Lily refused to back down. “Papa wouldn’t leave it to you. He knew I loved my home, so that means you somehow found the funds to purchase this house, and everyone in Middletown knows you’ve never been a man of great wealth. Besides, I do not recall Haus am Bach ever being up for sale.”

  Mr. Everett expelled a bored-sounding sigh. “If you must know, I won this house in a card game.”

  Lily gasped and Aunt Hilda’s hand flew to her throat.

  He stood and stepped forward, towering over Lily. “I hoped to spare you the humiliation, my dear, but it seems you cannot leave well enough alone. It’s one of your many weaknesses.”

  “Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “And you are ever so perfect.”

  “Do not sass me.” Mr. Everett grasped her arm and gave it a hard yank. Unprepared, Lily dropped the bowl. It clattered against the floor, sending stew in every direction.

  “Now see what you’ve done, you foolish girl?” He gave her a shake.

  “Let go of me!” Lily twisted but Mr. Everett only held on tighter.

  “Leave her be!” Aunt Hilda shouted, rising from her place at the table.

  “You’re hurting me!” Lily winced as Mr. Everett’s fingers bit into the soft flesh of her arm.

  “Let her go!” Jonah threw his bowl of stew at Mr. Everett, clocking him in the head with the wooden bowl and sending food dripping down his black frockcoat.

  Jed rounded the table and kicked Mr. Everett in the shin. The man howled.

  Lily pulled from his grip and ran to Aunt Hilda, who enveloped her in the protection of her sturdy arms.

  The muscle in Everett’s jaw convulsed while he bent to rub the lower half of his leg. A piece of carrot had lodged in his graying hair and on another day, Lily might have laughed.

  But not today. Not now.

  “You will regret your actions, you impudent boys.” Mr. Everett’s bellow echoed into the farthest corners of the dining room. His eyes moved to Lily. “And you …”

  He straightened and Lily shrank into Aunt Hilda’s embrace.

  “You will suffer the most for this act of insolence and betrayal.” He shook a long, slender finger at her. “I have tolerated much from you, but no more, Lily. No more!”

  “I have tolerated much from you also. My entire family has. You’ve insulted, chided, and humiliated us. Worse, you seem to enjoy doing it in front of guests.” Lily pulled away from Aunt Hilda. She couldn’t stop the words. They were out of her mouth as fast as they formed on her tongue. “I can’t imagine what my father saw in you that would make him call you his friend.”

  Without a word, Mr. Everett left the room.

  “I guess this means I won’t see any ships.” The disappointment in Jonah’s voice, his crestfallen expression, caused tears to spring into Lily’s eyes. Why couldn’t she have kept her mouth shut, if only for Jonah’s sake? Then, again, she didn’t trust her brothers in Everett’s care.

  Having found his top hat, Mr. Everett stomped out of the house and shouted to his driver. Next, the sound of his carriage wheels crunching against the gravel pike replaced the weighted silence inside the dining room.

  Lily’s stomach clenched. Silas Everett might be gone now, but he would be back.

  Mac knew the song. Who didn’t? Popular during the Revolutionary War and then years later during the Second American War of Independence. But why was it roaming around in his head, its words stirring his dreams?

  Reluctantly, he opened his eyes to the pinks of dawn on the horizon—and Lily Laughlin’s musical adaptation of “Johnny Has Gone for a Soldier.”

  “Here I sit on Buttermilk Hill,

  Who could blame me cryin’ my fill,

  And all my tears could turn a mill,

  Johnny has gone for a soldier.”

  With a curse on his lips, Mac got to his feet. What in the world was that confounded woman doing, singing so early in the morning? As if to mock him, Blake’s hard snores reached Mac’s ears.

  Jonah and Jed’s voices wafted from the other side of the creek and coaxed their sister on.

  “The fish like your sad song, Lily.” It sounded like Jed. “Keep singing.”

  No! Mac balled his fists. Every time Lily sang it touched his soul and put a chink in the protective barrier around his heart.

  He strode for the stone bridge and stopped short when he spotted his neighbors. He’d gone many days without seeing her, but she still succeeded at pervading his thoughts—and now, evidently, his dreams too.

  Lily sat on a boulder in a sunny yellow-printed dress, a large shawl draped around her bare arms. Mac longed to caress her skin and discover if it was as soft as it looked.

  “Sing, Lily.” Jonah cast his line from his place in the creek. He’d rolled his trousers to his knees.

  Jed hadn’t the need to hike up his breeches. He stood beside his older brother, wielding a net.

  “I’ll dye my dress, I’ll dye it red.

  In the streets I’ll go begging for bread.

  The one I love might soon be dead,

  Johnny has gone for a soldier.”

  Mac’s jaw slackened when Jonah caught a trout and Jed scooped it up. Even the fish leapt from the depths when Lily sang.

  He put his hands on his hips, angry that she should possess so much power by merely singing a song.

  “Ahoy, Captain.” Jonah had obviously found Mac’s secluded lookout.

  Mac lifted one hand in greeting while Lily’s blue eyes bored more holes in his self-made fortification.

  “Me o’ my I love him so,

  Broke my heart to see him go,”

  Mac’s insides warmed beneath her scrutiny.

  “And only time will heal my woe,

  Johnny has gone for a soldier.”

  Mac couldn’t look away and an all-too-familiar sense of longing swept over him. How he wanted to cross the bridge, scoop Lily into his arms, and kiss her ripe, pink lips.

  He tore his gaze from hers and bit down hard on his back teeth. He would not be caught like a fish!

  “I wasn’t ready that time, Lily,” Jonah groused. “Sing another verse.”

  “No, I’ve sung enough songs for this morning.” Without another glance Mac’s way, she stood and picked her way to the worn path. A slight breeze blew strands of her golden hair onto her cheek. “Let’s bring your catch to Aunt Hilda. We’ll eat well at breakfast this morning.”

  “You can come and eat with us, Captain.” Jed held up a passel of fish on a string. “We caught plenty.”

  “Quite impressive, and thanks, but no.” Mac watched Lily’s retreating form. Ruefulness pinched. She hadn’t greeted him, even out of politeness. Sang to him, perhaps—and how he wished she meant those words for him.

  But, wait, no, he didn’t want that!

  Mac’s mind fought and flopped like one of Jonah’s recent catches. Who could blame Lily for neglecting a formal greeting? Part of barricading his heart was ignoring her, although he’d explained his decision. She seemed to understand. So why did that parting frown, creasing her otherwise smooth forehead, reflect sorrow?

  But perhaps she was thinking of Oliver Ashton when she
sang her mournful love song. He’d heard rumors of the young heartbreaker alive and hiding in the mountains. Seemed ridiculous to Mac. Why would he hide? He’d volunteered to fight. It wasn’t as if he’d deserted. His family would give anything to have him back home.

  Did Lily believe the nonsense? Was she pining away for a ghost? Mac didn’t think she was the type, but maybe he’d been mistaken.

  Bah! What did he care?

  He stomped back to camp, setting his sights on his new barn. The mason had filled in the gaps between the planks. The structure was almost finished now, and a finer barn in Middletown could not be found—at least that’s what James Hawkins continually said. In another week, the remaining wooden shingles would be nailed onto the sloping roof and, of course, the women in town were looking forward to the party a week from tomorrow.

  Would Lily come?

  Of course she would.

  Mac churned out a guttural moan. He looked at the heavens and shook his fist. “I don’t care! Do you hear me, God? Lily can dance her heart out with any man she chooses. I will feel nothing. Nothing!”

  He stared upward at the rapidly bluing sky. It promised to be another perfect day. Lowering his hand, he marveled at himself. Why did he assume his frustration over Lily was God’s fault?

  But of course, it was. The Almighty had blessed Lily with an incredible gift of song. Each note touched the heart of every listener, and Mac believed in giving credit where credit was due.

  He neared the ten-foot circle of stones. Their campfire had long since died out, so Mac collected an armful of twigs and lit another. He made coffee, which aroused Blake from his sleep.

  “G’mornin’, Cap’n.”

  “Morning,” he grumbled.

  Blake scratched his head and next his jaw. “I wonder what Hilda is makin’ for breakfast.”

  “Fried fish would be my guess. The Laughlins were out fishing this morning.”

  “Was Miss Lily with the boys?”

  “Yes, but who cares? Surely not I.”

  “Oh, no. Not you.” Blake snorted and hurried to dress. “I’ll bring you a meal if anythin’s left.” After tugging on his boots, he jogged toward the stone bridge and disappeared into the overgrown shrubbery. More work to do. Good.