Camellia (33 page)

“What’s going on?”

“Not much. One of the Yankees—”

“Federals,” Lily corrected her sister.

Camellia sighed and started over. “One of the
Federals
is talking to Blake…. Now he’s going back to his boat…. Blake’s waving at our father…. I don’t see Jensen.”

The sound of the anchor chain as it was being wound back up told them what Jensen was doing.

“I’ll be back.” Lily released Jasmine, rose, and put her hand on the door, surprised when it moved under her hand. Had a deserter sneaked on board while the two boats were lying side by side? She took a step back, breathing a sigh of relief when Blake’s dark hair and blue eyes appeared.

“Are all of you going to lollygag in here the rest of the afternoon?” His smile teased her. “If this is the effect your debutante sister is going to have on you, we’ll have to leave her in Cape Girardeau.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “And to think I was praying for your safety.”

“And a good thing, too.” He caught her in a hug and dropped a quick kiss on her forehead. “That was the USS
Rattler.
Her captain is spoiling for a battle and seemed a bit put out that we weren’t blockade runners or spies.”

She looked at him more closely to see if he was still teasing. What she saw made her heart stutter. Whatever had transpired outside had been a close-run thing. Visions of Blake, Jensen, and Papa being carried off in chains while strangers in blue uniforms commandeered the
Water Lily
took form in her head. Lily closed her eyes and thanked God for His protection before following her husband to the engine room.

The sun had not quite sunk below the horizon as they passed under the guns of a fort south of Cape Girardeau and began looking for an overnight berth. The dock was crowded with warships—steamers, screw steamers, and schooners. All flew the Stars and Stripes, and most bore evidence of contact with Confederates.

They tied up at the end of a pier, and Blake met with the harbormaster before returning to report to the others. “He says we can stay here tonight, but tomorrow we’ll need to come back and move to make way for ships that are currently out on patrol.”

Lily nodded. “Does he know where your family is?”

“He’s heard of a sick preacher who lives a couple of miles downstream.”

“Do you think that’s him?”

Blake shrugged. “It’s as good a place to start as any. After we get the boat settled tomorrow morning, I’ll walk down there and see whether or not it’s my father’s home.”

Touching his arm, Lily gave him an encouraging smile. “I’m glad we’re finally here. As soon as we find your father, we’ll get him on the road to recovery.”

“I hope you’re right.” Blake put an arm around her waist. “But no matter what we find, I know God will help us face it.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The kiss he dropped on her cheek was sweeter than honey. How blessed she was to have such a godly man as her husband.

B
lake pointed toward the river. “If we’re about to reach my father’s house, we could move the
Water Lily
over there and tie her up.”

Lily nodded. “It would be nice to have Papa, Jensen, and Tamar close at hand.”

Feeling a trickle of sweat down her back, Camellia wished they would reach the house. She had told Lily she could stay on the
Water Lily
as Jasmine was, but her older sister had insisted she wanted Camellia with her.

It seemed they had been walking an hour. At first Camellia had enjoyed the view of the colorful hills. The reds, golds, greens, and browns of the leaves made them look as though God had rained paint down on them. But all these months on board one riverboat or another had meant little walking. Her legs ached, she was huffing like a racehorse, and one of her hat pins was drilling a hole into her head.

“Is that it?”

Lily’s question brought her head up. A small house squatted at the end of a twisty lane. Camellia frowned. It looked like a face to her. The door was a nose flanked by two window “eyes.” The steps up to the porch looked like a mouth, and the roof continued the image with its brown shingles rising steeply above the porch in imitation of a head of hair. It was smaller than Lily and Blake’s boat.

Blake bounded up the steps and knocked on the front door, but Lily and Camellia waited on the lane behind him.

After a moment, the door opened a crack. Camellia thought it might be a woman who answered, but she wasn’t certain.

Blake said something, and the door flew open.

A girl about Camellia’s age flung herself into Blake’s arms and hugged him tightly. “It’s a miracle.”

Blake put his arms around her and bent his head. “How have you been, Anna?”

After a moment, he turned and waved to Lily and Camellia. “I have some special ladies I’d like you to meet.”

Camellia planted a smile on her lips as he performed the introductions. After hugging Lily and welcoming her to the family, Blake’s sister turned to her. “You’re ever so beautiful, Camellia. I hope we’re going to be good friends as well as sisters-in-law.”

She noticed Anna’s threadbare cuffs and the old-fashioned cut to the dress that was partially hidden by her apron. She looked tired, too, and her figure was certainly not as rounded as Camellia’s. But she did have a pleasant face and natural gracefulness. With a little time and effort, she could be made into a very presentable young lady. “I’m sure we will.”

Anna waved them into the house. “Aunt Tessie, come to the parlor. I have the most wonderful surprise for you.”

The older woman who came to greet them had silver-touched brown hair and light blue eyes. Her smile was warm and welcoming as she surveyed them. Then her expression froze as she recognized who stood in the doorway to the parlor. “Ezekiel.” Joy rose in her face like the first rays of the morning sun. “You’ve come home to us.”

Ezekiel? Camellia saw the frown on Blake’s face even though it was quickly absorbed into a smile of recognition. “Aunt Tessie, you’ve not aged a day since I was fourteen.”

She waved a hand at him. “Go on with you, Ezekiel. You still haven’t lost that slick tongue of yours.”

“Aunt Tessie.” Anna’s voice brimmed with concern. “You know Blake prefers to be called by his middle name.”

“I know, I know. But old habits die hard. You’ll always be Ezekiel to me, dear, but I’ll try to remember.” Blake’s aunt hugged him before turning to Lily and Camellia. “And who are these lovely ladies?”

“This is my wife, Lily, and Camellia, her—”

Aunt Tessie’s shriek interrupted him. “You’ve gone and gotten married!”

Camellia watched, bemused, as Blake’s aunt pulled Lily out of her curtsy and wrapped her in an enthusiastic embrace. Then it was her turn to be bear-hugged. At least she could set aside the concern that her family might embarrass Blake. If this lady was any indication, his family had at least as many eccentric characters as hers.

“God bless the two of you for bringing Ezek—” She halted and shook her head. “Blake back to us.”

The parlor was small. A sofa, whose worn covering was imperfectly disguised by several doilies, looked like a castoff. The rest of the furniture looked old, too, including several wooden chairs that boasted neither cushion nor upholstery. At least the tables in the room gleamed with furniture polish, somewhat softening the air of spartan frontier existence.

Camellia and Lily sat next to each other on the sofa, leaving sufficient room for Blake to join them. Anna and Aunt Tessie took two of the straight-backed chairs.

“You’re an answer to prayer.” Anna twisted her hands in her apron.

“Pa?” Blake’s voice trembled with the single syllable.

Anna looked out the window for a minute as though gathering her thoughts. “He’s growing weaker every day. After the accident, his leg wouldn’t heal, and the doctor had to … had to remove it. Since then, it seems he’s lost the will to live.” She put a hand up and swiped at a tear.

“I’ve tried every remedy I know to help him recover, but your father’s an obstinate man.” The aunt continued the explanation while Anna recovered her composure. “I’m at my wits’ end, as is your sister. But perhaps all that is about to change now. Maybe seeing you will give him a reason to get out of his bed and resume his life.”

Blake’s face looked as though it had turned to stone. Wasn’t that why they were here? Lily had told her that Blake and his father had had an argument years ago. This trip was supposed to give him a chance to make amends. So why did he look so frozen? “I won’t feed his ego just to keep him alive.”

The words fell into the silent room, and Camellia wished she could be somewhere else. Was there something she could say to diffuse the tension? The weather? The trip to Cape Girardeau? Nothing seemed appropriate, so she kept her gaze trained on her lap and waited.

“No one’s asking you to lie to Pa.” Anna stood and paced across the room, her stride too wide to be considered proper for a young lady. Mrs. Dabbs would have corrected her, but no one said a word in this parlor. “But I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive him for whatever wrong he’s done to you.”

Blake stood and walked to his sister. Camellia looked up and caught the determined look on her brother-in-law’s face. “I’ll do my best.” His words, like his face, were filled with determination. “That’s all I can promise.”

Anna reached up and touched his cheek. “That’s all anyone can ask of you.”

“How long will you and your family be staying with us?” The aunt turned her attention to Lily.

Lily glanced at her husband for an answer, but he was still talking to his sister. “I’m not really certain. We weren’t sure what the situation would be. The note Blake received was rather cryptic.”

“You received a note?”

“Yes.” Lily took a deep breath. “The note said Reverend Matthews was very sick and that y’all needed Blake’s support.”

A frown appeared on the aunt’s face. “I wonder who sent the note? It had to be someone who knows us and who knew Blake and where he was.”

Lily shrugged. “I’m just glad whoever it was took the time to let us know. Blake would have been distraught if he’d learned about this when it was too late to help.”

“We’ll be happy to have you as long as you’ll stay.” Anna left her brother and walked to the door. “I’m going to let Pa know you’re here before I leave for my job at Devore’s. I’ll be back before dark.”

“Oh no.” Her aunt also stood. “Your lunch is not ready yet. I forgot all about it in the excitement.”

The two of them exited the room.

Lily stood and moved toward Blake. “Are you okay, dear?”

“I suppose so.” His tone was bleak. “So much has changed since I left.”

Camellia stood and cleared her throat. “I think I’ll go see if I can help someone do something.”

Neither of them said anything, so she exited and looked around the foyer. What was she supposed to do with herself now?

Blake felt his shoulders tense as he passed through the doorway into his father’s bedroom. The curtains were drawn, seeming to shut out light, hope … and life. In the dimly lit interior, he could make out the posters at each corner of his father’s bed, but he could not make out the man’s form behind the thick bed curtains hanging between them. “Pa?”

“Who’s there?” The voice was querulous and shaky.

Blake’s memory of his father’s voice was much stronger, deeper, frightening. He glanced at Aunt Tessie, who was sitting a few feet away from the bed, a book in her lap. “It’s your son come to visit you.”

“Ezekiel?”

Blake grimaced at the name. He’d hated it as a child. Even after his parents had told him about the prophet he’d been named for. Ma had taken pity on him and began calling him by his middle name—her maiden name—Blake. But Pa had never called him anything else. “Yes, it’s me, sir.”

Silence filled the room. Blake wondered if the man had fainted from shock. Or was he struck dumb with horror?

Long, pale fingers pulled back one of the bed curtains a few inches. Blake could feel the chill of his father’s gaze. It reminded him of the past—of being pierced by his parent’s wrathful looks and fiery accusations. The hand fell back. “Why did you come?”

“Enoch,” Aunt Tessie said as she rose from her chair and placed her book on it, “that’s no way to treat your only son.”

“ ‘The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son: the righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him.’ ”

Blake’s ears burned as he realized his father was quoting from the book of Ezekiel. He knew because he’d turned to that same verse many times as a young man. It had been comforting to him then to believe that his father’s sins wouldn’t be passed on to him. He had enough sins of his own to be concerned about. “If you’re trying to say that I should not blame my mistakes on you, then you don’t need to worry. I’m man enough to take responsibility for my mistakes. But I am not sure God will judge either of us righteous.”

A whispery sound came from behind the curtains as his father apparently shifted his position in the bed. This time when the fingers appeared, they jerked back the cloth between Blake and his father.