Camellia (29 page)

“Look at that.” Jane’s voice sounded sad to Camellia.

She looked toward the bank and saw what had drawn her friend’s attention. A stunning plantation had once commanded a view of this bend in the river. All that remained of it, however, was a burned-out shell. The spreading limbs of live oak trees formed a path from the bank of the river to the front steps. Five tall columns were spread out as silent sentinels across what had once been an inviting veranda edged with a profusion of azaleas, bougainvillea, and roses.

Visions of slave uprisings and Yankee marauders made Camellia’s head spin. “I wonder what happened there.”

Mr. Carlton stomped out to join them, his gaze surveying the ruined estate. “Most likely lightning.” He pointed with his cane at a tree Camellia had not noticed earlier, its trunk blackened, its bare limbs reaching toward the sky. “See the hole in that wall? Once the fire breached the house, it was too late to do anything. It would have burned in less than an hour.”

Camellia turned to Jane. “Are you feeling adventurous?”

“Not me.” Jane shook her head and shrank back.

“Come on. We can spend the afternoon exploring while the men do their work.” Camellia drew her forward. “It’ll be fun.”

Jane squealed as the gangplank bounced under their feet, the river water rushing a few inches beneath their feet. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Thad shook his head and waded back to the bank, meeting them before they got halfway across the narrow wooden planks. Walking three abreast was impossible, so he took his sister’s arm and guided her to the bank. Then he turned back to where Camellia stood with one hand clutching the packet’s rail. Instead of offering her his hand, he bent and scooped her into his arms.

Caught off guard by his unexpected action, she had no choice but to rest her head against his chest.

Mr. Carlton chuckled and she heard the
tap-tap
of his cane as he moved away. The captain was giving instructions to his crewmen, ignoring the women and Thad.

Jonah was a different matter, however. He stood at the end of the gangplank, his face a mask of fury.

Thad put her feet on the ground, his hand settling around her waist. “Is there a problem?”

Jonah’s hands clenched and unclenched. “As a friend of Camellia’s family, I can be considered a chaperone. I don’t know how you’ve been comporting yourself while I’ve been indisposed, but I’ll thank you to act like a gentleman now.”

Stepping away from her, Thad straightened his shoulders. “My actions are in keeping with the man who will one day be Camellia’s husband.”

Camellia’s mouth dropped open, but before she could say anything, she saw Jonah sway.

His complexion had grayed to almost the same hue as his uniform. His gaze went to her face. “You’re engaged to be married?”

“I am not.” She shot a look of warning toward Thad. “And this is not the time or place to discuss such matters.”

To his credit, Thad moved to Jonah and steadied him. “I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn, Camellia, but it cannot be a secret that I care about you greatly. And now that we’ve spent all this time practically alone on the river, everyone will expect us to—”

“Enough.” She stomped her foot on the ground, coughing at the dust it raised. “You might make the same argument about myself and Jonah, or even Jonah and your sister. We’ve been adequately chaperoned the whole time, so I will hear no more on the matter.”

Both Jonah and Thad looked at her, their faces slack. Then Thad glared at Jonah. “You ought to get inside before you fall over and I have to carry you, too.”

Jonah snorted but never took his gaze off her face. Even as she walked toward the ruined house, she could feel a prickle on the back of her neck. Why did the man have such fire in his eyes? And why did she feel so bruised? She ought to be glad two men were vying for her attention, but all she felt was persecution. She hadn’t done anything to deserve their attention or their scorn. She would not feel guilty.

Mist had settled on the water overnight. Now it rose in wraithlike tendrils, first hiding then revealing the surface of the river.

Jonah settled into a chair provided by the engineer and watched as the plantation home receded in the distance. It had taken the men all night to move enough sand for their boat to float free. How much longer would it take them to reach Jacksonport? And what would happen to him when they did?

“How do you feel this morning?” Camellia’s voice pulled him away from his thoughts.

Jonah looked at her, standing so demurely in front of him. He had thought her beautiful when she wore glittering finery, but she was even more so out here on the river without her fancy coiffures and fancier dresses. Her eyes were bluer than the sky, her lips as soft as the petals of a rose. Even though she looked as delicate as porcelain, he knew better. Many women would have spent their time weeping and bemoaning the danger and privations of this trip. Camellia had not complained even once. He could not afford to give in to the tenderness flooding him. “Not as tired as your fiancé.”

“Don’t call him that. Thad spoke out of turn.”

Her denial made his heart pound. “Are you saying you don’t love him?”

She looked past his shoulder, a frown on her lovely face. “I … Oh, I don’t know how I feel. I always thought I would marry someone like Thad, but now I don’t know.”

“He’s a good man—honorable and caring. You could do worse for a husband.” What impulse made him defend the Confederate soldier? She could see for herself what kind of man Thad was. Jonah didn’t need to push her in that direction. But somehow her happiness was important to him, more important than his own.

Her head shot up at that. “Are you saying you want me to be engaged to him?”

“Only if it will make you happy.” Jonah sighed. “I’ve known you for years, Camellia. I’ve seen you during good times and hard times. I’ve seen you act the part of a supremely egotistical debutante. Your physical beauty is undeniable, but at times I’ve thought I glimpsed something else in you … something admirable, something warm and caring and honest.”

A tear slipped free and trickled down the curve of Camellia’s cheek.

Jonah’s breath caught. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I only want you to be sure you love Thad before you agree to marry him.”

She rubbed a finger across her cheek. “Sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing. I think about that sermon. Do you remember? The one at your church where the pastor talked about the narrow path that leads to salvation. I thought he was being silly. Everyone I knew felt the same way. We all believed in the South, the Cause. But I’m not so sure anymore. War is a harsh, scary thing. How many men will give their lives for an ideal that has nothing to do with God? How many lives will be ruined when husbands, brothers, or sons never come home again?”

Jonah took a deep breath. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing now. Their conversation had taken a much more serious turn, a turn that could lead her either to a closer relationship with Christ or to a life of discontent that ended in eternal destruction.

He closed his eyes and prayed for the right message to give her. She was the missing lamb, the one the Shepherd left His flock to find. For the first time, Jonah understood why the Shepherd would risk everything to bring one lost lamb back into the fold. “Hundreds, even thousands will be affected before the war is over. It’s the nature of war.”

Her gaze came back to him. “That’s the real reason, isn’t it?”

“I believe the South is wrong. I believe the soul of every person is precious to God, no matter the color of a person’s skin. I believe slavery is an abomination that must end if our country is to survive.” Jonah paused. Should he tell her everything? Let her see how far he would go … had gone? “Even before the war began, my brother, Eli, and I helped slaves escape to safe havens. He didn’t want me to volunteer to fight because he understood what you are just now seeing, the death and destruction. But I couldn’t stand on the sidelines. Following God’s urging is more important than my comforts, my life, or even my family.”

Emotions chased each other across her face—fear, knowledge, understanding, and finally determination. “What can I do to help?”

Her question made him want to shout with joy. And in that moment, he knew why Thad’s announcement had caused him so much pain. He was deeply, completely, irrevocably in love with Camellia Anderson. If she married someone else, it would be a disaster of monumental proportions. He wanted to extract a promise from her to wait for him. He wanted her to vow not to marry Thad. But he could not. He would not. So he shrugged. “Keep your eyes and ears open. God will give you the answer in His time.”

T
he landing at Jacksonport should have been crowded with townspeople and soldiers in the morning, but Camellia could see no sign of activity.

White tents littered a clearing nearby; lazy tendrils of smoke rose from cooling campfires. Gray-coated soldiers with bayonets attached to their rifles patrolled the edges of the camp, their faces hard as they watched the packet approach the empty landing.

As soon as the gangplank was lowered, Thad marched across it and headed toward a tent over which a Confederate flag waved.

Jane came to stand next to Camellia and placed an arm around her waist. “You’ve seemed different these past few days. Is that scene with my brother troubling you?”

Camellia would have liked to blame her problems on such an easy target, but she could not be untruthful to her best friend. “No.”

The other girl was silent, as though waiting for an explanation. But Camellia had none to give her. She couldn’t reveal her changed feelings about the war and slavery without exposing Jonah, and she couldn’t very well ask her friend to betray her brother by hiding Jonah’s secret.

“I suppose we’re all tired.”

Camellia sighed. “It has been a long trip.”

“At least Jonah seems back to normal. Even his cough is easing.”

Thanking God in her heart, Camellia smiled. “That’s true. Perhaps we have bright futures as nurses.”

Jane shivered. “I don’t think I have the stomach for it.”

“You don’t find it rewarding to see Jonah’s recovery?”

“Of course I do, but it’s not like he had any gaping wounds or sores. His problems were more internal.”

Thad’s reappearance stopped their conversation. He was escorted by an older man, a civilian.

“Here they come. I wonder what your brother has learned.”

They soon found out. Jacksonport had been in the hands of the Union until only a few days earlier. Camellia wondered what might have happened if they had arrived then. Would they have been taken prisoner, or would Jonah have come forward and worked to ensure their freedom?

The Confederate commander who had retaken the town had a number of wounded on his hands, and he needed to arrange transport back to Vicksburg where they could receive proper care. Even though their packet was small, he thought it would meet his requirements.

Thad described the proposition as a choice, but Camellia viewed it as a command. They would transport the wounded soldiers to Vicksburg whether they wanted to or not.

She and Jane spent the afternoon scrubbing out the unused guest quarters. Soldiers drove nails into the walls and hung hammocks inside the cleaned quarters. By the time the sun was setting, the boat was almost ready.

The commander’s assistant, a pale man with a long beard and pale eyes, joined them for dinner. It was a fancier dinner than they had enjoyed for the weeks they’d been on the White River. Colonel Thomas Scoggins regaled them with stories of battles and skirmishes they had managed to avoid in their time on the river.

As a result, Camellia found herself unable to eat any of the fried squirrel or rice. From the colonel’s descriptions, they would surely encounter Union gunboats if they tried to return to the Mississippi. Would she and Jane spend the rest of the war in this small town in Arkansas?

“I’m surprised Mr. Thornton is not present for dinner this evening.” Mr. Carlton’s innocent comment set Camellia’s heart thumping. “I would have thought he would be anxious to make a report of the activities at Memphis.”

Colonel Scoggins raised an eyebrow. “Who is this?”

Thad explained how they had fished Jonah from the river after the battle above Memphis and watched him sleep for three days and nights. Colonel Scoggins expressed a desire to interview Jonah, and the conversation at the table became more general.

But Camellia knew it didn’t bode well for Jonah. She had to warn him and see that he avoided talking with the sharp-eyed soldier. She had no intention of seeing him hanged for his actions—not now that she understood the truth.