Lily (Song of the River) (22 page)

They stood close together like kindred spirits and looked toward the other boats in the harbor. Many of them were lashed together, and he made out the figures of men leaping from one deck to another with the nimbleness of experience.

The slap of water against wooden hulls was punctuated by greetings, shouts, and laughter, all melting together to create the unique sound of a floating city. The warm yellow flames of cooking fires glowed, and the air was heavy with the exotic fragrances of unfamiliar spices. He could have remained standing there for the rest of the evening.

Lily squeezed his hand and pulled away. “I suppose we need to get moving if we’re going to find LeGrand’s this evening.”

Blake turned toward her, his gaze following the outline of her graceful neck up to the determined chin and pert nose he could barely make out in the growing darkness. “I doubt it’ll be open.”

“It will be. It has to be.” Her chin rose a notch.

He sighed. He should have known she would insist on finding the business tonight. “Do you have the directions?”

It was for the best. Hadn’t he just been thinking about cutting his losses and walking away? He needed the reminder that Lily was always going to want to call the shots.

She would never be a conformable female. If he ever decided to marry, it would not be to a woman so bossy and self-righteous. He would choose someone quiet, someone who adored him and would be a good role model for their children. Not a woman who strode about on the deck of a steamship and expected everyone to fall in with her plans.

A stab of regret pierced his heart, but Blake ignored it. After a nice long soak in a warm bath and a good night’s sleep, the pains he had earned today would fade away. Including the ache beginning to lay claim to part of his heart.

A
s they approached, Blake saw a lamp gleaming in the front window of LeGrand Shipping. Even though Lily had to be as exhausted as he was, she practically leaped from the wagon he had hired.

“If you’ll wait a moment, I’ll help you get down.” He tossed the reins to a child who came running forward, then jumped down, holding back a groan with some effort. The sooner they concluded their business, the sooner he could rest.

He walked to the far side of the wagon and held out a hand. As soon as Lily’s feet touched the ground, she let go of him and straightened her skirts. He moved up the two steps and opened the door to the shipping company, setting off a tinkling bell and causing the man at the counter to look up.

As a gambler, Blake had learned to size up people quickly. Thinning hair on the man’s head was compensated for by a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. Probably about two decades older than he, the man smiled readily, a sign of an honest merchant. As the man removed his spectacles, Blake recognized the intelligence in his hazel gaze. “May I help you?” he asked as Lily and Blake entered the orderly office space.

Lily consulted the paper in her hand. “I’m looking for Lloyd Thornton.”

The man’s smile widened, and he put down his pen. “You’ve found me. What can I do for you?”

Before Lily could answer, the curtain covering a doorway behind Mr. Thornton moved, and a woman stepped into the room. She was short, even shorter than Lily, and her blond hair looked almost colorless in the lamplight. Her light-brown eyes contained the same combination of friendliness and canniness as the man she stood beside. “Well, I see we have some late business, or is this handsome couple seeking directions to the French Quarter?”

“I was about to find out their errand when you entered, dearest. They seem to be seeking us, however, since this lovely young lady has my name.”

“
Quel charme.
It’s charming to meet you.” The woman’s gaze was as bright and interested as a bird’s. “I’m Mrs. Thornton.”

Although both Thorntons looked to Blake, he glanced at Lily. She held out her paper to Mr. Thornton. “We have brought cargo from Natchez.”

Mr. Thornton took the paper and returned his spectacles to his face. After a moment he looked at his wife. “This is the cornmeal we were hoping to send to Barbados. I wasn’t sure your parents would be able to get it to us in time.”

Mrs. Thornton nodded and turned to them with her attractive smile. “Did you and your husband have a pleasant voyage to New Orleans?”

“He’s not my husband.” The words flew out of Lily’s mouth.

At the same time, Blake spoke forcefully. “We’re not married.”

“Oh.” Mrs. Thornton looked toward her husband who answered with a shrug.

“I suppose their situation must be entirely proper or your parents wouldn’t have trusted them with the cargo.”

“My sisters and I own a majority share of the
Hattie Belle.
Mr. Matthews owns a smaller portion.” Color had darkened Lily’s cheeks. “A chaperone travels with us.”

“I assure you our relationship is purely business.” Blake picked up the explanation. “Miss Anderson convinced me we should try our hand at shipping, and here we are with our first delivery.”

“I see.” Mr. and Mrs. Thornton exchanged a glance before Mrs. Thornton continued. “Then I trust you and your business partner had a pleasant first voyage.”

Blake nodded but saw Lily shaking her head. “We had the ill fortune of running our boat on a sandbar. Although we were blessed to be towed back into the channel by a passing steamship, I’m afraid we sustained some damage.”

“Praise the Lord you made it to New Orleans.” Mrs. Thornton put a hand to her chest. She stepped around the end of the counter. “But what do you plan to do until your beautiful boat is repaired?”

Blake cleared his throat. “We haven’t gotten that far. We arrived only a little while ago.”

Mrs. Thornton looked at her husband, an unspoken question in her gaze. Mr. Thornton removed his spectacles and nodded.

These two seemed able to read each other’s thoughts. Past sermons from Blake’s childhood came to mind. Could two people really become one? Or did one simply find a pretty, compatible female and marry her?

“All of you will come to our house and stay until your boat is fixed.”

Mrs. Thornton’s words made Blake’s jaw drop.

“We couldn’t do that. It would be too much of an imposition.” Lily’s words had a wistful tone. “There are seven of us not counting the crew.”

“Our town house seems so empty now that Eli and Sarah are gone. Tell them, Lloyd.”

“Charlotte is right.” Mr. Thornton cleaned his spectacles with his handkerchief as he spoke. “You would be doing us a favor. You can tell us about her parents and what’s happening in Natchez.”

“We do need somewhere to stay.” Blake added his support to the Thorntons’ suggestion.

Lily looked at him as though he had betrayed her. “I thought we’d stay in the
Hattie Belle.
Make sure the repairs are carried out properly.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I doubt workers will appreciate having women and children running underfoot. Jensen and I can stay on board and supervise the work.”

“That makes no sense.” Lily frowned at him. “You’re more exhausted than I. You deserve a chance to recoup your strength.”

That was true enough. Blake would pay a large sum for a bed as long as his frame. “But—”

“I won’t hear of it.” Mrs. Thornton overrode both of them. “We may have to ask the gentlemen to share a bedroom, but we can manage things. Now go on back to your berth, gather your belongings, and come back here. Lloyd will wait for you while I make sure everything is ready.”

Lily opened her mouth, but Mrs. Thornton raised a finger. “You’re coming to stay with us. That’s the end of it.”

Mr. Thornton joined his wife, putting an arm around her waist. “I learned long ago when to let Charlotte win an argument. Besides, she will enjoy having you to fuss over. So you may as well give in gracefully and let us coddle you a bit.”

Blake could tell the moment Lily decided to stay with the Thorntons. He breathed a sigh of relief. The Thorntons’ generosity was like being dealt a royal flush—a stroke of good luck no gambler would ignore.

“Thank you so much.” Lily smiled at the couple. “We would be happy to pay—”

Mrs. Thornton laughed. “Don’t be silly, child. I won’t hear of such folly. We can afford twice as many guests. Besides, you will be doing me a favor. Since my daughter, Sarah, got married, I have had no girls to discuss fashion and shopping with. We’ll have such fun together.”

“I can also arrange for a reputable company to do your repairs.” Mr. Thornton moved back to the counter and began searching through some papers. “I’ll have all the information together by the time you return.”

Blake led Lily back to the wagon by the light of a gas lantern. On the ride to the boat, she was uncharacteristically silent. Did she regret agreeing to stay with the Thorntons? “I think you made a good decision. Who knows how long it will take to complete the repairs on our boat?”

She turned her face up to him. “Please promise you will come with us.”

Warmth filled him, traveling outward from his chest in a flood of emotion. Was she worried about him? Or maybe she wanted his company. He really liked that idea. She was growing fond of him in spite of their differences. He patted her hand. “I won’t desert you.”

As soon as the words escaped, Blake wanted to call them back. Wasn’t he ready to wash his hands of Miss Anderson and her troublesome troupe? Then why had he given his word to stay at her side? The question had no answer, or at least no answer he wanted to consider.

Early the next morning, Blake rolled his shoulders as he waited for the repair crew Mr. Thornton was sending over. He hadn’t seen Captain Steenberg yet. Maybe the man had decided to disappear. Good riddance. It would save Blake the trouble of telling him his services were no longer required. The sound of footsteps on the back stairway drew his attention.

“I feel like a herd of buffalo’s running through my head.” The captain winced as a shaft of sunlight landed on his face.

Stale waves of alcohol washed over Blake. Was Steenberg still drunk? Or drunk again? “You should be glad we didn’t leave your sorry carcass on that sandbar.”

“For making a mistake?” the man said, his face showing surprise. “Don’t I deserve a little relaxation?”

Guilt speared Blake as the man used the same excuse he’d given Lily when she’d discovered him playing cards. Had he been negligent in expecting the captain to shoulder all the responsibility of piloting? He shook his head. “You ran us aground. We could still be stuck out there on the river or trying to walk our way through the swamp to New Orleans.”

The captain shrugged. “But we’re not.”

How could the man be so dense? So careless? And how could Blake have been so wrongheaded as to ignore his intuition about Steenberg? It was time to take action. Time to stop letting Lily Anderson call the shots.

“No thanks to you. Clear off this boat.”

The man’s jaw went slack. “What do you mean?”

Blake remained silent.

The captain’s face hardened. “You didn’t hire me. You don’t have the right to tell me to leave.”

“I most certainly do have the right. I can assure you Miss Anderson and I are of one mind on this matter.” Blake winced inside as he made the statement. Surely Lily would agree once he explained the situation. “Get your things.”

Fear and regret replaced the captain’s rebellion. “Please give me another chance. I promise I’ll do a better job. Besides, you need a licensed captain.”

Blake shook his head. “Don’t worry. We’ll find someone.”

“Lots of luck.” The captain spat and took a step forward. He shook a finger under Blake’s nose. “Where do you think you’ll find someone to replace me? Do you think anyone else is going to take a chance on this doomed boat?”

He knew he ought to remain stoic, but curiosity overcame Blake. “What do you mean?”

“Everybody knows having a woman run a boat is bad luck. And I’m sure word has gotten out about her running aground. No one’s going to want a berth, much less a job, on the
Hattie Belle.
You might as well change her name to the
Flying Dutchman.
”

Blake laughed. Superstition? Ludicrous. He’d seen a lot of men blame luck and superstition for their own shortcomings. It seemed the captain was ready to take it one step further. “You’re trying to blame your mistake on Miss Anderson?” Laughter bubbled up again. “Go ahead. Any man with sense will be able to see the truth.”