Camellia (31 page)

“I’m afraid Michael won’t last another day.” One of the soldiers traveling with them whispered the information as she took his place beside Michael’s hammock.

Camellia nodded and removed the warm cloth from the patient’s forehead, dropping it into a pan with other dirty cloths. Later she would boil the contents of this pan in a large pot with lye soap. “I think they might do better if we could carry them to the deck.” Replacing the soiled cloth with a fresh one, she thought of the way she’d felt that bittersweet day when Jonah had taken her to the waterfall.

How impossibly far away that moment of hope seemed to her now. Jonah was gone, and all that was left was sickness, pain, and death. Helplessness and hopelessness were her constant companions. Sometimes she felt she would lose her mind.

Moving to the next hammock, Camellia peeled the dirty cloth from the soldier’s head, wrung out a fresh one, and laid it gently across his face. As she turned away, however, this man put a hot, dry hand around her wrist. “Are you an angel?”

Camellia shook her head.

“I’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you.”

“Of course you haven’t.” Michael coughed, and she turned back to look at him again, noticing the gray cast to his face. “That’s ’cause she
is
an angel, only she can’t tell anyone.”

Her heart broke again as she put a hand on his shoulder. No one could say these men weren’t brave. Even now, as their broken bodies failed, they could find something to make each other smile. “Of course I’m not an angel. I’m just a girl from Natchez.”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Michael nodded before sinking back against the hammock. “She can’t tell anyone what she really is.”

Shaking her head, Camellia looked up and saw Thad entering the sickroom. He looked troubled, and her heart pounded in response. How much more would they have to bear before this nightmare ended? She picked up her bowl of rags and moved toward him.

“We need to talk.” His voice was as grim as his face. His back was as straight as a ramrod as he escorted her out of the sickroom.

“What has happened?”

They walked through the passageway to the deck. Camellia glanced about for evidence of a new threat, but she could see nothing more than the trees and banks they were sliding past.

“We’ve received news about Jonah Thornton. It appears he’s been masquerading …”

Camellia’s mind spun as Thad talked. Had Jonah been apprehended by the Confederates? A vision of his lifeless body dangling from a hangman’s noose sprang to life in her mind. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Couldn’t make sense of the words flowing from Thad. What would she do without Jonah? Without seeing that half smile of his, the fire in his green eyes? What about his parents? His sister? The brother in Memphis?

“If I see his conniving face again, I’ll put a bullet in him myself.”

The truth burst upon her like the blast of a torpedo. He was not dead. Was not even languishing in a Confederate prison. Her heartbeat quickened. Jonah was alive. And free. Something of her joy must have shown on Camellia’s face, because Thad stopped talking and frowned at her. “You don’t seem surprised at my news.” His brown gaze pierced her.

Camellia realized she had best step warily if she didn’t want to be branded a spy herself. “Jonah told me there was a problem with his enlistment.”

A harsh laugh from the man beside her stopped her careful words. “The problem with his enlistment is that it’s a sham. Wait a minute….”

She looked up at him.

Thad was gazing into the distance, his mind busy with implications. “He’s the missing piece!”

“What do you mean?” Camellia forced the words through her tight throat.

“He’s the one who was passing classified information to Mrs. Dabbs. And he’s the one who most likely orchestrated her escape before we left New Orleans.” Thad no longer looked suspicious of her. His gaze settled on her hair, and he reached up to tuck a stray strand into her bun. “It all makes sense now.”

Before Camellia could say anything, he bowed to her. “I have to report this to my commanding officer. He needs to know exactly how nefarious Jonah Thornton really is.”

She watched Thad march away and wondered where it would all end. Would Thad someday kill Jonah?

Guilt assailed her, and she felt her heart being torn in two parts. Thad was a good man. He had all the qualifications to make her happy. But her heart wanted to be near Jonah. If only he wanted the same thing, too.

T
hunder rumbled in the distance as the packet-turned-hospital reached the Mississippi River. Camellia wondered if it came from the dark clouds in the sky or yet another confrontation between the United States and the Confederacy. She leaned against the rail and turned her face to the wind.

“It won’t be long before we reach Vicksburg.” Jane came up behind her and removed her apron.

“I wonder if the Union navy has taken it as well.”

“Thad says no. Vicksburg may be the only city the Confederacy can hold, but it will never fall into the hands of the Yankees.”

Camellia wondered if Thad could be wrong. But she had seen the high bluffs. She had heard the men talking about Vicksburg’s refusal to surrender even after New Orleans, Natchez, and Baton Rouge had fallen. And she could see for herself the ardent desperation of Confederate soldiers to win the war against all odds.

Ahead of them the river seemed to come to an end, so deep was its curve. The hairpin curve just above Vicksburg.

Jane’s dark hair whipped around her head in the brisk wind. “Isn’t it ironic that we tried to stay away from the fighting but only managed to get ourselves mired in it?”

“I read something about that in my Bible this morning.”

“I’m not surprised. You’ve spent more time with your nose stuck in your Bible during this trip than you did the whole time we were at La Belle.” Her fingers tried to tuck the errant strands back into her coiffure. “Exactly what do you hope to find?”

“Answers.” Camellia sniffed. “Isn’t the Bible supposed to have all the answers?”

“I suppose so … if you’re a preacher.”

“The book of Proverbs has good advice for everyone.”

Jane wrinkled her nose. “I suppose you’re right, but you have to weed through all the ones that don’t apply to get to the good ones.”

Camellia could remember thinking the same way, so she knew nothing she said would change Jane’s mind. All she could do was pray for her friend to have an awakening that would open Jane’s heart and mind to the importance of each verse in the Bible.

Thad walked up to them, and Jane moved over to make a space between her and Camellia. He stepped into it. “What are my two favorite ladies discussing?”

The question made Camellia’s brows rise. This was the Thad she remembered from New Orleans—the kind, debonair escort with a ready quip and winning smile. She liked him much better than the angry, bitter man who spoke of vengeance and reprisals.

“We were talking about the Bible,” Jane answered.

He looked up at the sky and pursed his lips. “ ‘Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.’ ”

Camellia wondered why that verse had sprung to his mind. Did he wish to be a peacemaker? This was indeed a change, one that could only be wrought by God. She looked at him with new eyes. “Can you imagine listening to Jesus on that hillside?”

Thad looked at her, his gaze seeming to penetrate to her very soul. “His words are no less valid today or they wouldn’t be included in the Bible.”

Jane’s voice broke the deepening spell between them. “I’m beginning to think we’re at church.”

Camellia turned back to the vista. “Look, there’s the city.”

A boat bristling with cannons approached them, and Thad sighed. “I’d best leave you two to pack your belongings while I go reassure those gentlemen that we are no threat.”

Jane left to do as her brother suggested, but Camellia didn’t care if she never saw any of the clothing she’d brought on this trip. Most of it was too filthy to even be given away. As soon as she got back to civilization, she would order a whole new wardrobe.

Men in worn gray uniforms walked past her with serious looks on their faces. Camellia watched as they checked every nook and cranny of the boat. Thad talked with one of the other officers. Eventually the soldiers left, and the boat continued to the port. As they drew nearer, her gaze swept the boats tied together at the dock. Tugs and schooners towered over canoes and pirogues. The distinctive smokestacks of other steamships filled the air with black steam and cinders. At least this area seemed untouched by the war.

Her breath caught when she noticed the lettering on one of the steamships. It couldn’t be. And yet there it was. The
Water Lily.
Her family was in Vicksburg. Camellia’s heart leapt in her chest. She wanted to shout at the captain to hurry.

Jane came back to the deck. “I’m ready.”

“Look.” Camellia pointed to her sister’s boat. “My family is here.”

“I’m happy for you.” Jane gave her a brief hug. “I hope this doesn’t mean you’re planning to leave me after we land.”

The unalloyed joy she’d felt was pierced by sadness. She put an arm around her friend. “Maybe we can all go back to Natchez together.”

A shake of her friend’s head negated that idea. And Camellia understood why. It was the war. Jane would want to remain on Confederate soil so she could stay in touch with her brother, the soldier, and her father, the blockade runner.

“Maybe your family has fled to Vicksburg, and all of us can stay here.”

Given her sister and brother-in-law’s views, Camellia doubted that possibility, but she kept her own counsel. And prayed for God to work out the things she could not see. A feeling of peace settled on her shoulders as the verse she’d read that morning came back to her.
“A man’s heart deviseth his way: but the Lord directeth his steps.”

“Camellia! Look, there she is!”

She waved her arm in a wide arc. “Lily! Blake!” Her feet flew across the gangplank. As soon as they hit the dock, she was caught up in a three-way hug.

“Are you hurt? Where have you been?” Lily’s question melded with Blake’s.

Laughing, Camellia added one of her own. “How long have you been here?”

Before they could answer, another person joined them. “I know this wretched creature is not my dainty Camellia.”

Freezing at the sound of her father’s voice, Camellia turned. And smiled. “I’m afraid it’s me.”

He opened his arms, and she walked into them. For the first time since she’d learned this man’s real identity, she felt a connection with him.

Lily and Blake crowded around them. Questions and answers flew through the air like the gulls that followed behind fishing boats. By the time all of the stories had been sorted out, the packet was empty. Camellia looked around for Jane and Thad.

“Your friends have gone to their home ahead of us.” Blake answered the question in her gaze. “We rented rooms in a hotel downtown, but we’ll ask them to join us for dinner if you’d like.”

“Of course she would like.” Lily smiled at her. “She’s in love with that handsome soldier, remember? That’s the reason we let her go to Vicksburg.”

Camellia opened her mouth to disagree but decided this was not the time to try to explain her divided loyalties. “But I have nothing to wear.”

“Never fear.” Her father’s eyes twinkled. “Your sister brought one or two of the things that arrived from New Orleans after you left.”

Lily nodded. “One or two trunks, he means. You should have heard Jensen complaining about their weight.”

“Jensen is with you?”

“And Tamar, too. They are watching Jasmine.” Blake put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. A carriage rolled away from the curb toward them, and all four of them climbed in.

A short ride later brought them into the central part of Vicksburg. Camellia was conscious of the stares her tattered garments and gnarled hair garnered in the lobby, but her family closed ranks around her and whisked her to a room. It looked huge to her, with a four-poster bed, two bureaus, a dressing table, and a sofa.

She turned to look at Lily who had followed her into the room. “Who’s staying with me?”

“No one.” Lily hugged her once more. “This whole place is for you.”

Camellia perched on the edge of the sofa. “I feel like a princess.”

“And you’re going to look like one, too. But first, why don’t you relax and take a nap. You’ve lost so much weight.”

“I know. I’ve become a hag.”

“No, no.” Lily sat next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re beautiful. All you need is a little rest, some fresh food, and your clothes. You’ll feel better in no time.”

It felt good to wash her face and hands, to strip off her clothes and choose something from the bureau Lily had filled with the clothing from her trunks. It felt even better to climb into the soft bed and pull the cover up to her chin.

The only things that remained troublesome were the grass-green eyes that chased her into oblivion.