Lily (Song of the River) (28 page)

The pastor read to them from the sixty-eighth psalm, one of Lily’s favorites. After the death of her mother and the desertion of her father, she had often turned to verse five. She traced the words in her Bible as he read them to the congregation: “‘A father of the fatherless, and a judge of the widows, is God in his holy habitation.’”

When the pastor spoke of singing praises to God and rejoicing in His presence, a desire welled up in her to set aside more time for the Lord than she had been doing lately. As Pastor Nolan began the closing prayer, she concentrated on praising God to the best of her ability. She would start as soon as they got back on the boat. She would organize a Bible study. It would be good for everyone on board—crew and passengers alike.

Feeling better about the future, she raised her head and gathered her things. It was so rewarding to attend church. She would make a point to be in port on Sundays as they continued traveling the river. It was the best way to fulfill her most sacred duty to her sisters and ensure they were rooted in the faith necessary to sustain them throughout their lives.

B
lake intended to make a quick exit as soon as they got back to the Thorntons’ town house. He had endured enough for one day.

The sermon had been unnerving—especially the part about God being Father to the fatherless. He wasn’t fatherless. But sometimes he thought that might be better than having a father who ignored the needs of his family. What about children who had to escape their fathers in order to thrive? If God condoned that type of fatherhood, he wanted no part of it.

Nor did he want any part of the discussion sure to come about how wonderful the pastor was and how inspiring his sermon had been. Eager to escape the cloying atmosphere, he tapped a foot as the others chatted together in the front yard of the church.

The sun was beginning to warm the air. Prickles of sweat trickled down his back, making him long for the deck of the
Hattie Belle.
Would their infernal talking never end? Blake’s jaw was so tight it ached.

Finally Lily walked over to him. “Is something wrong?”

He rolled his eyes. “Nothing much.”

A frown appeared on her brow. “Why am I not convinced?”

“I have no idea.” He nodded toward the Thorntons. “How much longer do you think they’ll be?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Why? Do you have a pressing engagement?”

“Do you have to control every aspect of my life?” He kept his voice low to avoid drawing attention. “Can I not have some tiny corner of my life that is safe from your prying questions?”

Her face paled, and Blake wanted to kick himself. When had he become the kind of man who attacked women?

“I–I’m sorry, Blake. I didn’t realize. …”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry.” Reaching for her hand, he tucked it into the crook of his arm. “I’m hot and hungry, and I’m taking it out on you. It’s not your fault.”

Sorrowful brown eyes stared at him, looking into his very soul. “Apparently it is.”

“No.” He took a deep breath. “As soon as we get back to the house, I’ll tell you about it. You and I have very different backgrounds. Perhaps it’s time for us to sit down and talk. Maybe if I explain a little of my past, you’ll understand better why we don’t always see eye to eye.”

“I’d like that very much.” The color had returned to Lily’s cheeks. She looked around for Camellia, Jasmine, and David. The Thorntons appeared to have finished their conversations. “Let’s start back.”

As they walked, Blake tried to organize his thoughts. He wanted Lily to understand enough to leave him alone about certain things. He didn’t want to risk repeating this day. Nor did he want her nagging him about going to church. He was never going to be a churchgoing man. Once he explained why he was so reluctant to attend, he hoped she would acquiesce and leave him out of her religious nonsense. It wasn’t too much to ask. He’d given way in so many things since they became business partners, surely she would yield once she knew the truth.

When they returned to the Thorntons’ town house, Camellia, Jasmine, and David went to their rooms to change clothes before lunch, but Blake and Lily hung back, explaining that they had business to discuss.

“Business?” The lilt in Mrs. Thornton’s voice made Blake want to groan. She was raising questions he’d rather avoid. He and Lily did not have any romantic feelings for each other, but if he protested, those in the foyer would begin to share her suspicions. The way Lily’s cheeks reddened, they might anyway.

He raised one eyebrow. “Yes, the repairs are winding down, so we need to prepare for our voyage back to Natchez.”

“I see.” Mr. Thornton looked from his wife to Blake before shrugging and turning to the staircase. “We’ll see you shortly.”

Blake opened the parlor door and motioned for Lily to precede him.

She sat down on the sofa, removed her hat, and waited for him to begin.

Unable to sit, he swung his arms back and forth a few times. Where to start? “I told you I left home years ago, and I’ve never been back.”

She nodded.

“What I didn’t tell you is that my father is the reason I left.” He hesitated. “My father, Reverend William Matthews.”

Her eyes widened. “Your father is a minister?”

“Yes, that’s right.” He could hear the bitterness creeping into his voice. “And he’s a cold, uncaring man who thinks the word
Christian
is a synonym for
tyrant.
”

“I don’t understand.”

Blake considered what he should tell her. The back of his throat burned in reaction to the memories. How could he share such things with anyone, even Lily? “I don’t want to drag you through all the sad occurrences from my childhood, but suffice it to say that my sister and I had to sacrifice every comfort for the sake of my father’s religion.”

“What did your mother say about your father’s treatment?” Her voice was a blend of sympathy and caring.

Lily’s question touched on another sore point. “Not much. She was a ‘good Christian,’ the perfect submissive wife as defined by Paul.”

She said nothing, apparently digesting his statements. “Was there no one you could turn to? Grandparents? Cousins? People in the church?”

“None of our relatives lived close enough to know what was going on.” He shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “As for the church, who wants to challenge a preacher? A man called by God to lead the flock? They must have felt it would be blasphemy. At any rate, no one crossed my father. No one but me, that is.”

“Is that why you don’t like going to church?”

Relieved at her quick understanding, he nodded. “I went this morning because it seemed so important to you, but I was not at all comfortable.”

“I’m sorry for whatever pain your father caused you, but perhaps you should forgive him for his past deeds. To hold on to your bitterness only hurts you.”

“You think I should forgive him?”

Her nod felt like a betrayal.

Would anyone stand up against his father other than himself? Could no one else understand what he and his sister had gone through? He turned from her, not wanting her to see how much her suggestion hurt him.

“You should not condemn all pastors or all churches because of your experiences.” Her voice was gentle, but her words struck his heart with the explosive impact of a bullet.

Lily didn’t understand what it had been like. Why was that? She was intelligent and caring. Why could she not understand the pain and anguish he’d been through?

Pushing back his pain and anger, Blake took a turn around the room. Perhaps logic would appeal to her. “I’ve been doing fine without going to church for all these years.”

“You may think you’re fine, but that’s only because you believe you can rely on your own strength. It’s not enough, you know.”

He stopped pacing to look at her, his jaw slack. “What an odd opinion coming from one of the most self-reliant ladies I’ve ever met.”

Her head dipped in acknowledgment. “I thank you for the compliment.”

Blake wondered if it occurred to her that he might not have meant his statement as a compliment. Some men—most men—thought self-reliance was not necessary for a lady. Women were supposed to depend on the strength of their husbands, fathers, or brothers. Lily had none of those to rely on, but it didn’t make much difference.

“You should know that God is the source for my strength.”

“I see.” He raised an eyebrow. “So that’s why you spend every Sunday in church?”

A hint of color appeared in her cheeks. “Whenever possible. I know my sisters and I have not been as faithful in our Bible studies or prayer life as we should be, but we’ve been rather busy.”

Heat began to rise in his chest. “So you should attend church and read your Bible only when it’s convenient?”

“At least I don’t spend my leisure time at gambling halls and cabarets.”

How dare she judge him? “No, you spend your leisure time spending money on clothing and dragging your family and friends to parties. If you were truly moved by the Spirit, wouldn’t you be spreading the Gospel instead?”

“I certainly am not perfect—”

“That’s one thing we agree upon.” He couldn’t resist the chance to bait her. If he kept her on the defensive, she’d have no time to attack him.

Her chin wobbled. Was she going to cry?

Remorse overcame him. “I’m sorry, Lily. I was only teasing.”

She turned her head. When she faced him again, her expression was composed. “At least I don’t fidget and fuss the whole time I’m listening to a sermon.”

“I agree that I’m not a good Christian, Lily. So why don’t we leave it at that? All I’m asking is that you consider my feelings. Show me the courtesy of letting me decide how and where I spend my time.”

“If the only reason for attending church was to sing hymns and listen to a sermon, I might be able to do that.” She stood and crossed the room, stopping directly in front of him. “But the reason is to draw closer to the One who made you, the One who loves you, the One who wants you to turn your life over to Him.”

She looked so lovely standing in the light from the parlor window, her gaze earnest. Something inside him wanted to agree with her. Then sanity returned. Lily didn’t know what she was talking about. She’d been raised in the lap of luxury. Buying a boat was the action of a spoiled child who was determined to live her life in opposition to the wishes of her family.

Lily was typical of the type of women he usually steered clear of—the reformers who wanted to save the world. She would never understand how someone could twist religion to suit his own needs. She had never seen the harsh realities he had experienced. Not that he would wish that on anyone, but he wanted to get his point across to her. She needed to stop trying to reform him.

He steeled his heart. He had to put a barrier between them or she would never give him any peace. “You can dress it up any way you wish, Lily, but this is really just another attempt to direct my life.”

She stepped back, a frown crossing her face.

Realizing he was finally getting through to her, Blake continued. “I’ve never met a woman who was so determined to control every action and thought of everyone around her. You may own fifty-one percent of our boat, but you don’t own any part of my private life, and I’ll thank you to stay out of it.”

Blake left her standing there. He knew he had to get out of the room before he recanted every word he’d just said.

J
asmine stuck out her tongue at Camellia, who promptly glared back.

“Please don’t argue. We don’t have time for it.” Lily folded her nightclothes and placed them in the trunk. She had allowed the younger girls and David to sleep while Tamar helped her dress. After making sure Camellia was packed, they made short work of getting David and Jasmine ready for their departure, which was slated for noon.

Blake had sent a note the evening before, the only contact she’d had from him since their argument two days earlier. The message had been brief and businesslike.

He hadn’t signed the note, apparently in too much of a hurry to waste time with niceties.

“I don’t want to go.” Camellia’s steps dragged as they descended the staircase. “Can’t I stay with the Thorntons?”

“Of course not.” Lily frowned at her. “We’re sisters. We belong together until the day you fall in love and get married.”

Camellia made a face and continued her slow progress toward the dining room. Jasmine seemed more eager to face the day’s adventures. She bounded down the stairs like a rubber ball. By the time Camellia and Lily made it to the breakfast table, Jasmine was already seated and had filled her plate with preserves and a flaky croissant.

“I cannot believe it’s your final morning with me.” Mrs. Thornton offered a sad little smile. “I’m going to miss all the energy and excitement you’ve brought to our home.”