My Heart Belongs in the Shenandoah Valley

by Andrea Boeshaar

  “Dead?” Concern fell over his aging features. Whether it was genuine, Lily could only guess.

  “No, Aunt Hilda is not dead.” Lily tried to inject a note of happiness in her tone. “She’s on her way to Alexandria with Mr. Blake. They will be married aboard a ship christened Ariel.” Lily recalled the way Aunt Hilda’s eyes lit up as Mr. Blake further described their impending adventure to France. The two barely took note of Lily, sitting in the back seat of the wagon, on their way to town to meet the stagecoach.

  “Married, you say?” Mr. Everett wrinkled his nose. “To Blake? How shocking. He never mentioned it during our journey.”

  Lily jerked her chin and surveyed the paneled room. “If you cared anything for my family, you would know that my aunt and Mr. Blake fell in love almost immediately.” She stared at Everett and folded her arms. “Now where are my brothers? I understand that you have news for me that only you can share.”

  “Ah, yes …” Everett reclaimed his seat and indicated that Lily should sit in the black leather monstrosity nearby.

  She shook her head.

  Everett sighed. “Very well. Your brothers, Lily, are hellions. Your father, though a good friend to me, and a man I respected, spoiled those boys—and spoiled you too.”

  Lily let the insult go while her heart drummed out a frantic beat. “So what did you do to cure my brothers of their waywardness?”

  “I contracted … tutors.”

  “In other words, you sent Jonah and Jed to a boarding school?”

  “Yes. By now, they’re sailing away to unimaginable adventures. I’ve been guaranteed they will learn to obey without complaint. They’ll return home in twenty-four months.”

  “Two years?” Lily felt sick. “I won’t see my brothers for two long years?”

  “Yes, and it will be good for both them and you. You’re now free to concentrate on learning to be the genteel lady of the manor.”

  “Your manor. That you won from my father at the gaming table.”

  “Now, Lily …” His voice held a note of warning. “I have new slaves that arrived from Richmond while I was away. They’re learning their places here. Like them, it’s time you learned yours.”

  “As your slave?” She let go of a laugh. “Never!”

  “We’ll talk more about this tonight. You’re emotional and in no condition to carry on a conversation.”

  “I know your vile plans for me. Mac told me. But I will never marry you. Never!” Lily whirled toward the door.

  “Funny you should bring up Captain Albright’s name—and in such familiarity. While in Alexandria I learned quite a bit about him and his family.”

  Lily paused, her hand on the iron knob. Standing with her back to Everett, she waited for him to continue.

  “His family is bankrupt.”

  “So? The captain moved here to begin a life of his own.”

  “And you never pondered why a sea captain would leave behind a good occupation to be a farmer?”

  Lily turned to face Everett. “Mac was fed up with the sailing life.”

  “Did he say why?”

  “Yes. Because of the war. He was impressed.”

  “He is a traitor, Lily.” Everett stood. His eyes suddenly resembled cold, hard, creekside pebbles. “The man fought against Americans. The impressment story is just that. A fable.” He opened a suede file and removed a document. “Here is proof.”

  She took it and scanned the newsprint. “This is dated last year and states that Mac was acquitted of all charges of treason.”

  “Yes, but only because his father swayed the judge with money—money he didn’t have. Now Albright Shipping is sinking in debt.” Everett chuckled. “Sinking … the shipping company.”

  “I do not find this amusing.”

  “No, I didn’t imagine you would.” His smile vanished. “But you may be interested to learn that in order to save his family’s business, the captain has asked Miss Samantha Eden to marry him. It’s rumored she’s worth a goodly sum.”

  “You make the lady sound like a prized racehorse.”

  Another wicked-sounding chuckle passed Everett’s wormy lips. “Consider this document,” he said, sliding another piece of paper toward Lily. “It’s a sworn statement made by Mrs. Francis Delacroix, whose husband owns the largest and most prosperous hotel in Alexandria. We’ve been acquainted for some time, as we share similar businesses.”

  Lily resisted the desire to roll her eyes. The Stony Inn was a far cry from a luxurious hotel in a thriving city.

  “Mrs. Delacroix moves in all the important social circles, and she was told by Mrs. Prescott Albright that the captain would marry her sister in order to relieve the family’s debt, brought on by the captain’s treasonous acts and the judge’s stiff payoff.”

  “I don’t believe you. I don’t care who gave a sworn statement, it’s still hearsay.”

  “No, Lily. It’s the truth. Captain Albright and Miss Eden have been keeping company. I saw them together the day I boarded the stage for home, walking down King Street, arm in arm.”

  Lily set her jaw against the jealousy nibbling at her confidence.

  “Miss Eden is a handsome woman and, as I said, of considerable wealth.”

  “I’m glad for her then.”

  “Doubly glad, hmm? She’s betrothed to Captain Albright.” Mr. Everett’s words stung like a slap.

  But they weren’t true. “The captain and I have an … understanding. In a year’s time, when his farm is functioning, he’ll ask for my hand.”

  Everett threw his head back and laughed while humiliation stormed into Lily’s face.

  “And where will you and your traitorous husband live? In his shanty? Or, perhaps in the barn?” He chortled again. “Why, I daresay the pigs and sheep won’t mind your presence too much.”

  Lily turned for the door once more. Oh, if she only had something akin to a brass candlestick to throw at Everett’s head …

  “You, my dear, have been badly taken advantage of, I’m afraid.”

  “No, sir, you are misinformed.”

  Wicked laughter met her remark.

  Lily twisted the doorknob, but the rustling of documents behind her brought to mind thoughts of Papa’s will and the deed for Haus am Bach.

  She gulped a breath and prayed for courage, then slowly faced Everett again. “In your passel of papers, might you have a copy of the deed to my father’s manor?”

  “I’m sure I do.” Everett didn’t meet her gaze as he opened his ledger. “Now, be a good girl and run along. I’m a busy man.”

  “I’ll wait.” Lily strolled to the black leather chair and sat down.

  “Wait for what?” His brow puckered and deep lines collected on the bridge of his nose.

  “I’ll wait for you to produce a copy of the deed.”

  “Don’t be impertinent. It’s most unbecoming.”

  “Mac doesn’t think so. He thinks I’m beautiful.”

  Everett snorted. “Taken in by pretty words from a practiced charmer.” He clicked his tongue. “A shame. But you’re young. You’ll get over it soon enough.”

  “I want to see the deed to Haus am Bach.”

  “Run along, Lily. I mean it.” Again, he buried his gaze in his account book.

  “Of course if you can’t produce it, I’ll petition Mr. Rosemont. As Papa’s solicitor, he’d no doubt have a copy.”

  The muscle in Everett’s jaw seemed to throb. “Go home.”

  “Or what? You’ll send me off to boarding school?” Lily pushed out one of her sweetest smiles. “Except I’m not a little girl, and I won’t allow you to manipulate me, especially if the ownership of my home is in question.”

  “It’s not.”

  “Prove it.”

  Everett slammed his fist on his desk, giving Lily a start. “I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

  “Yes, I’m afraid you do. I believe Papa meant for my brothers and me to own our manor. I think you’re lying.”

  “After a
ll I have done for you?” Everett was on his feet again. “I have seen to your every need this past year. I have shown you my deepest care in your time of mourning. And this is how you reward me?”

  “You’ve sold our horses, carriage, animals, and our orchards, our wheat and corn fields. You dismissed our housekeeper and cook. Can you account for the sum you’ve collected over the last year? I highly doubt our needs equaled it.”

  “Why, you spitting little shrew.” Everett’s voice sounded as deadly as an ambush. “How dare you call my integrity into question when I have so faithfully looked after you—as your father would have wanted.”

  Lily refused to be cowed. “I take it you cannot produce the deed I’ve requested.” She stood and strode to the door.

  Everett hurried around his desk to block her path. “You will apologize at once.”

  She pressed her lips together.

  “Apologize, Lily.” Everett’s eyes became two slits.

  “For what? Demanding to know the truth?”

  Everett lifted his arm and backhanded her. Pain exploded in her cheek. She stumbled back, knocking over a vase and side table as she fell to the hard wooden floor. Fire erupted in her bottom lip. She tasted blood.

  Persistent knocking on the office door reverberated inside Lily’s head. She heard a familiar male voice, saw a looming shadow, and then a pair of giant hands lifted her to her feet. Scents of wood smoke and hot iron penetrated her fuzzy brain. Lily blinked and stared up into the blackened face of Issie’s husband.

  “James!”

  “We will make camp here tonight.”

  “My thanks.” James shook Shona’s hand.

  “It’s not necessary.” Lily removed the cool, wet compress from her swollen cheek. “I can take care of myself.”

  James’s gaze widened. “Like you took care of yourself by thundering into Everett’s office, calling the man a liar, and making demands without so much as another man’s protection?” He sucked in a breath, doffed his hat, and wiped away the droplets of perspiration—or perhaps exasperation—dotting his brow. James had driven her home in his wagon, and Lily had listened to his chastening for an entire mile, although it seemed like twenty.

  “I suppose I got what I deserved.” Tears clouded her vision.

  “No.” James took hold of her chin and forced her to look at him. “No woman ever deserves abuse. There is no excuse for what Everett did.”

  “Among my people, it is a crime to strike a woman, and it carries with it much shame.”

  “A pity my people aren’t that smart.” James released Lily and let his arm fall to his side. “If I notify the authorities, Everett will merely get a scolding—if the complaint doesn’t get completely ignored.”

  Shona’s gaze bore into Lily. She took to studying the tips of her leather boots.

  “Me and my men will camp here. That is final.” The sternness in Shona’s voice left no room for debate.

  Lily swallowed any remaining protests. In truth, she felt more embarrassed than hurt. “Thank you.”

  “I still say you ought to stay with Issie and me,” James said. “She’ll have a conniption when I tell her what happened. You can bet I’ll get some kind of tongue lashing for not insisting you come to our house tonight.”

  Lily smiled, then winced and fingered her fat lower lip. “Issie knows how stubborn I am. Let the truth be your alibi. I’m determined to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

  “So be it.” James lifted his shoulders. He sent Shona a parting nod and climbed up to his wagon.

  Lily lifted her hand in farewell. Then she wished Shona a good evening.

  “If there is anything you need, please knock on the kitchen door. I’ll hear it.”

  Shona dipped his head in acknowledgment. “And if there is anything you need, call out and we will hear you.”

  The promise filled Lily with a sense of security, and she was grateful Shona had his way. “Thank you,” she repeated.

  Then, opening the front door, she entered a much-too-quiet house. An instant wave of misery crashed over her. Her brothers’ shenanigans didn’t seem so terrible now, and what she wouldn’t give to hear Aunt Hilda scolding them and smell one of her delectable meals bubbling in the kettle or her delicious bread baking in the oven.

  Removing her bonnet, Lily strode into the empty kitchen. She spied Aunt Hilda’s recent batch of applesauce. A recipe lay beside the jars, left there for Lily’s benefit, as Aunt Hilda knew how to make and preserve fruit by heart.

  Lily reverently lifted her aunt’s apron. What a blessing to find a task to occupy her mind. She thought of how happy, even giddy Aunt Hilda seemed as she packed her belongings while spouting off a list of directions for Lily.

  She would begin tomorrow at first light.

  And in the days to come, God willing, Lily would figure out what to do with the rest of the harvest.

  She released a wary sigh. If only Mac would return. She didn’t believe a word of what Mr. Everett had said, and she refused to even consider the matter until she heard from Mac’s own lips that he was betrothed.

  Again, jealousy threatened, but she collected her wits and turned her thoughts to her brothers. As much as she loathed admitting it, boarding school wasn’t the worst thing for them. Mr. Everett had been correct about them acting like hellions at times. But away from home and in a disciplined atmosphere, they would be forced to study.

  Lily decided to read for the rest of the evening. She strode toward Papa’s study to get a book and paused in the hallway. She’d forgotten to ask about the boarding school’s location. Mr. Everett said the boys were sailing off … but to where? England?

  Her shoulders drooped along with her resolve. She dare not inquire of the pompous man further. She’d acted on her anger instead of approaching him with a clear head. Rather than getting the answers she sought, she’d started a battle—another war of independence, such as it may be.

  And there was no turning back now.

  Mac snapped the reins, and his mules quickened their gait. He could see his orchards in the nearing distance and couldn’t wait to arrive home.

  He swiveled on the wagon bench and signaled to Rogan, one of the freed Negroes who agreed to build his home in exchange for room and board and a chance to learn life skills—or practice the ones he already knew. While Mac drove the supply wagon, Rogan drove the wagon filled with dark-skinned men—freedmen—and a host of additional supplies.

  Upon leaving Alexandria with twenty slaves, Mac concluded that dangling their freedom in front of their faces in a tradeoff for work was a sort of blackmail. He wanted men willing to build Fairview. He wanted builders who shared his vision. Hence he gave each man his walking papers, so to speak—losing seven men in the process. Mac let those men go. But the thirteen remaining were dedicated to the job and ready to begin their lives on the far side of the Blue Ridge Mountains, in a lush valley known as Shenandoah.

  Each time they’d stopped for the night on this week-long journey, they had begged Mac for stories of the wide open spaces of the valley. They asked what freedom felt like, what it tasted like. Mac answered their questions the best he could, and their nighttime discussions allowed him to become better acquainted with the men.

  He marveled at their experiences and knowledge. To think Prescott deemed them simpletons, capable of only manual labor. How very far from the truth. Gerald played the fiddle like a professional musician. Marcus read aloud from the scripture every morning. And Thomas cooked almost as well as Mrs. Gunther, considering he possessed only basic utensils. Mac stood back in awe and gratitude.

  Then, as darkness had settled over their camps these last six days, Mac relayed everything he knew about the Shenandoah Valley. Homesickness enveloped him with every word he spoke.

  Homesickness and thoughts of Lily. Blake said she’d recovered and looked healthy. Mac was eager to see for himself.

  He slapped the reins again and the mules strained against their harnesses. He dared not overwork the poor crea
tures. After all, the wagon bed was piled high with limestone and lumber.

  Lily’s Haus am Bach, as she called it, came into view. Mac caught a glimpse of movement in the orchard, then to his left in the wheat field. The men Lily spoke of the day she was snake bit had obviously made good on their promise to return and help bring in the harvest. Mrs. Gunther expressed concern over Lily’s probable attempt to manage more than she was physically able, but it seemed Lily had things under control.

  Mac pulled to a halt, then jumped down from the wagon and tethered his mules. He waved to Rogan, and the man reined in his team.

  “Go on ahead of me, and drive the wagon up the swath on the other side of the creek.”

  “Yes, sir.” Rogan gave a nod.

  Mac issued several more instructions before turning toward the manor. He took the stairs two at a time, then rapped on the front door.

  No answer.

  Additional knocks produced the same result.

  Mac walked around the house. He heard Lily singing before he saw her in the orchard, standing on a ladder and gathering apples. He waved and caught her attention.

  “Mac!” Her exclamation wafted across the wildflowers on a tepid breeze and made him smile.

  Then she jumped down and smoothed her coral gown before taking hold of a stick. She resembled a blind man with his cane as she hurried across the grassland. Worry rose up inside of him. Had she lost some of her sight?

  Mac jogged to meet her. She dropped her stick and peeled back her wide-rimmed bonnet as she reached him.

  He took her hands.

  “I’m so glad you’re home.” Her blue eyes gleamed like sapphires, and she smelled like fresh air with a hint of bergamot.

  Mac lifted her hands to his lips and placed a kiss on the backs of her fingers. “I’m doubly glad to be home and to see that you have recovered nicely.”

  “I feel perfectly fine now.” Her smile lit his soul.

  However, he wanted more of a welcome than the offer of her hands. He cupped Lily’s face and touched his lips to her sweet mouth.

  She pulled away. “Mac, no … Shona is watching.”

  “Who?”

  Lily hung her head to the left, then slid her gaze in the same direction. Mac saw a brown-skinned man with long black hair making purposeful strides their way.