Lily (Song of the River) (10 page)

“You sure can make that saw sing.” Jensen’s shout interrupted his thoughts.

Blake pushed down once more, surprised when his saw met little resistance. He’d nearly sawed the plank in two without realizing it. With another quick pull and thrust, he finished. Standing up, he rubbed his back and grinned at Jensen. “It’s funny you say that.”

“Why?” Jensen’s unscarred eyebrow rose. “You was working harder than a lumberjack trying to meet his boss’s tally.”

“Back home, some people use saws like this to make music.” He held the tool to his chest and pretended to drag a bow across its back. “They can make a saw sing with a voice as clear as an angel.”

Jensen’s face was a mixture of curiosity and doubt. “Are you trying to humbug me? I know I don’t have much learning, but I’m not a daft old coot.”

“Not at all. When you can’t afford to buy fancy violins or pianos, you look around for alternate ways to entertain during a long winter’s night.”

“Well, if that don’t beat the Dutch.” Jensen scratched his head. “I heard of blowing into a bottle, and I’ve seen men beating out a rhythm on an upturned washbasin, but I’ve never seen nobody making music with a saw.”

The floor shifted under Blake’s feet. “I wonder who that could be. Maybe the captain has decided to return.” He set his saw down and strode outside. “Lars, is that you?” Only silence answered his call.

From his vantage point on the second floor of his boat, Blake had a wide view of the dock and the first-floor decks. As far as he could see, no one had come aboard. He looked out toward the river, wondering if they’d been jostled by a passing boat, but saw no sign of recent activity. He shrugged. Maybe a gator had nudged them.

He looked around at the curtain of trees separating them from civilization. As soon as he’d taken possession of his boat, Blake had decided to move it away from the bustling dock at Natchez Under-the-Hill. He would need to make major renovations to
Hattie Belle
to meet his needs, and he wanted peace and quiet while he worked. Shaking his head, he walked back inside.

“Who was it?”

“No one as far as I could see.”

Jensen’s face whitened. “There’s spirits living in some of these backwaters.”

Blake would have laughed, but he could see his friend was serious. “I imagine it was more likely an alligator. You’ll find a lot more wildlife than ghosts out here. Besides, it’s not even noon. No self-respecting ghost would be out in broad daylight.”

“Go ahead and make fun of me, but I’ve seen things on this river that would make you stop and think.” Jensen nodded in emphasis. “Many a unsuspecting traveler’s been attacked on the Natchez Trace, robbed and killed and left without a proper burial. What’s to stop them from rising up and wandering around out there in the woods?”

“Death would do it, I’d think.” Blake stacked the planks he’d sawed and grabbed another.

Jensen shook his head. “One of these days you’re gonna see something that’ll make you stop and scratch your head.”

“Maybe so, but until then I prefer to put my faith in the natural world.” Blake sent Jensen downstairs to fix some lunch and got back to work on his final project. As soon as he had his bar finished, the gaming room would be complete. Then he’d move back to Natchez and open up the most amazing gambling hall this part of the world had seen. He hoped it would become so famous they’d hear about it upriver, all the way up in Hannibal. A tight smile twisted his lips as he imagined the reaction of one man in particular—the Reverend William Matthews.

I
don’t know if this is a good idea, Lily.” Grandmother pulled out a stack of golden coins, each valued at fifty dollars, from the safe Grandfather had installed in his study years earlier.

“The money will be safe in the bank and earn interest.” For the past half hour, Lily had been trying to convince her grandmother to let her deposit her dowry at Britton’s Bank.

“And what if the bank has to close its doors before you are ready to collect your dowry?”

Lily understood her grandparent’s distrust. In the past, banks had closed, and people’s banknotes had become nothing more than worthless paper. She remembered hearing of two such disasters from Grandfather.

If she had been planning on depositing her dowry with Mr. Britton, she might have had second thoughts, too. But she intended to spend the money as soon as she could. On a steamship. Telling her grandmother her real plans, however, would result in a bigger argument if not an outright refusal.

Wishing she could be honest with her grandmother, Lily sighed. “Things are different now, Grandmother. My money will be safe.”

“It is your money, even though your grandfather intended it for your dowry.” Grandmother closed and secured the safe. “I only hope nothing happens to it before you wed. Once you are safely married, your husband will be the one to decide how to keep it safe.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Speaking of husbands, what did you think of Mr. Marvin?” Grandmother opened the top drawer of Grandfather’s desk and pulled out a leather pouch.

Lily shrugged. The last thing she wanted to discuss was Adolphus Marvin. He’d become a veritable nuisance in the last few days, sending notes or dropping by to pay a call. It had taken all her ingenuity to avoid him, and she had the feeling her efforts would soon be curtailed by her uncle. “He seems to have many virtues.”

Grandmother nodded. “But?”

Another shrug. “I don’t know, Grandmother. I’ve always dreamed of meeting a special man.” She chose her words with care. “The Bible says God made Eve from one of Adam’s ribs—that He designed her as Adam’s mate, a woman he would love above all others.”

“And that’s what you hope to find?” Grandmother sighed. “That’s your youth speaking. Once you have met a few more eligible bachelors, you will realize any one of a number of men can love you and care for you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lily folded her lips together. Even if her grandmother was right about there being more than one man she could love, there had to be someone much better suited to her who would allow her to follow her dreams. She would wait for him to find her … even if it took the rest of her life.

Grandmother scraped the money into the leather bag and handed it to Lily. “Is Dahlia going with you to town?”

“No, ma’am.” Lily’s attention was on the heavy pouch. Her future—and her sisters’ futures—were represented in its contents.

“I hope you are not planning to go alone.” Grandmother pointed a finger. “It’s not safe for a young girl to gad about alone, especially with all that money.”

“Tamar will be going with me.” Lily leaned over to kiss her grandmother’s cheek. “Thank you so much.”

“I don’t know what your uncle is going to say.”

“He won’t say anything if you don’t tell him.” Lily adopted the most innocent expression she could manage. “It’s not like I’m stealing something that belongs to him, after all.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

As she left the room, Lily felt a pang of guilt. Grandmother had always been accommodating. But since Grandfather’s death, she had become as easily swayed as a rudderless boat in a hurricane.

Hardening her heart, Lily told herself it was necessary to use her grandmother’s kindness to achieve her goals. Aunt Dahlia and Uncle Phillip were influencing Grandmother with their ideas—ideas that would ensure a bleak, loveless future for Lily. She had a different future in mind. One that would include hard work and sacrifice, but that would come with many rewards such as pride, wealth, and freedom.

Lily took a moment to dream about one day landing at Natchez Under-the-Hill, happy and successful. She would smile patronizingly at her uncle when he looked with envy on her beautiful boat. Everyone would heap praise on her for her daring. Her sisters would be happy with their exciting lives on the river. Her breath caught as she imagined a man standing beside her. Her husband—tall, handsome, and kind—a man who made women swoon, a modern-day David with a heart for the Lord.

Yes, once she bought a steamship and moved her sisters aboard, no one would be able to force her to do anything she didn’t want to do. Until then, she had to keep her plans hidden. She had no doubt Uncle Phillip would put a stop to them if he found out.

A shiver of dismay whispered down her spine. What would God think of her deceit? But she wasn’t deceiving anyone. Lily was going to tell them the truth … later. The Bible didn’t say it was wrong to choose one’s timing. She truly believed buying the steamboat was God’s will for her and her sisters, to give them freedom from society’s dictates. She would have to tell her grandmother as soon as she could.

Feeling better, Lily asked one of the footmen to call for the carriage and hurried upstairs to get her bonnet and gloves. Her sisters were in the classroom, working hard on their lessons. She peeked in but didn’t want to break their concentration, so she put a finger to her lips and shook her head at the tutor.

Grandfather had been insistent all three of them learn to read and write, as well as have a strong grounding in literature and history. He had always told her to study the past or be prepared to repeat its mistakes. Once they moved onto their steamship, she would never be able to afford to pay the fussy little man who was currently teaching her siblings, so Lily would have to teach them what they needed to know.

Tying a large bow under her chin and pulling on her gloves, Lily checked her appearance in the reflection of her bedroom window. She needed to present a professional image and impress Mr. Champney.

Lucretia Mott would be her model. The Quaker woman had been so outspoken in her views about women’s rights, the abolition of slavery, and other important issues. She could be as strong as that lady. These were modern times, after all, even if things changed more slowly in the South. Lily would not be hindered by others’ views of a woman’s proper duties. She would bring change to Natchez and the other ports along the river. Perhaps one day people would read about her crusades in the newspaper. Perhaps other young women would strive to be like Lily Anderson—strong, fearless riverboat captain.

She could almost hear the mournful sound of her steamship’s whistle as they rounded the bend and sailed majestically into Natchez. The cannons announcing their arrival would boom like thunder. All the people of the town would stand along the bluffs and wave at her. It would be wonderful. All she had to do was persevere, and one day her dreams would come true.

Lily’s thoughts occupied her all the way to town. She could tell Tamar was curious, but she didn’t want to reveal her plans just yet. Plenty of time would be available once she had bought her boat. By then it would be too late for anyone to interfere.

She directed the coachman through the streets until they reached the large building of Champney Shipping.

“What business could you possibly have here, Miss Lily?”

“Nothing much.” Lily waited until the coachman let down the step before disembarking. “Only the future of my family.”

She stepped to the door and twisted the doorknob, taking a deep breath. The clerk’s shocked expression did nothing to bolster her courage, but Lily knew she could not allow herself to retreat. She lifted her chin and marched forward. “I would like to see Monsieur Champney.”

The man gulped, apparently as frightened as she felt. He nodded and stood. “Who should I say is calling?”

Divulging her name might jeopardize her plans if word got out of this office. “I’m a friend of the family.”

His Adam’s apple worked once more before he opened a large oak door and disappeared behind it. When he reappeared a few moments later, Monsieur Champney was with him.

The older man’s dark eyes twinkled with recognition as he swept his arm in a welcoming gesture. “Bonjour, mademoiselle. Please come into my office.”

Lily entered the sumptuous room and perched on the edge of a large chair.

“How may I be of assistance?” The shipping magnate settled into his even larger chair on the far side of his gigantic desk, a polite expression on his face.

She couldn’t think of any way to ease into the subject. “Do you have any steamboats available for purchase?”

“I, uh …” Monsieur Champney cleared his throat. “The short answer is yes, but—”

“Excellent. Then all we need to concern ourselves with is the asking price.” Lily wondered where her newfound courage sprang from. Fear of failure? She squeezed her hands together and prayed for guidance. She had to succeed. If she didn’t, she and her sisters would be separated forever. She wouldn’t be able to care for them, guide them, or watch them grow into the self-assured young women she dreamed they would become.

Her host studied her, his dark eyes reminding her of his handsome son. What would Jean Luc think if he knew she was doing business with his father? Would he admire her pluckiness or decry her boldness? And why did she care? She would soon be captain of a steamboat, plying the muddy waters of the great Mississippi River. She might never see him again.

“I have an idea.” Monsieur Champney’s words grabbed her wandering attention. “You are familiar with the
Hattie Belle
, no?”

“Yes, sir.” Excitement zipped through her. The
Hattie Belle
was a beautiful boat. And huge. Far larger than she had hoped to be able to purchase. If only she could afford it, she and her sisters would be certain to succeed. “But I don’t know if I have enough—”