Secret Tides

by Gary E. Parker

  It’s not really thievery, he thought as he did every time he took out a few extra dollars. I run the place now; ought to earn more than the eleven hundred dollars a year they pay me. Besides, when Camellia and Master Trenton marry, I’ll be part owner. How can a man thieve if part of a property is already just about his?

  His conscience almost quieted, York opened the door and stepped outside. He saw Ruby headed toward him, a wide smile on her face. He started to step past her, but she spoke before he could. “I come lookin’ for you. You best go see Camellia.”

  Noting the lilt in Ruby’s voice, York knew something good had happened. Could it be that young Trenton had …? He started to ask but then decided he wanted to hear it from Camellia, whatever it was. “Where is she?”

  “She be over to Mr. Cain’s place,” said Ruby. “Where she go every day about this time.”

  York nodded. Although it put a heavy burden on her, Camellia went to Josh Cain’s almost every day to help Beth prepare supper. Josh had told her not to do it, but Camellia paid him no attention. She even refused to take the money he offered when he saw she planned on continuing.

  “I’ll go see her,” York told Ruby.

  “That be a good idea.”

  A few minutes later York found Camellia in Anna Cain’s kitchen, making corn bread, with Beth and Lucy at her side. Josh entered through the back door, carrying a bucket of water in each hand. York nodded to Josh as he set the buckets on the floor.

  “What brings you over?” asked Josh.

  “I’m here to see Camellia.”

  “She’s here, that’s for sure,” said Josh, washing his hands in the bucket. “Just about every day. She’s a big help, though I fear she does too much for her own good.”

  “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” said Camellia, smiling. “I’m not a child anymore.”

  “I reckon you’re not,” said York proudly. “Young men from Beaufort keep droppin’ by all the time. Interesan’, though—she pays them no attention.”

  Camellia blushed as she placed the corn bread in the fireplace.

  “How’s Anna?” York asked Josh.

  “About the same,” said Josh. “Maybe a touch weaker. Seems to slide away a little more every day.” His shoulders slumped as he spoke.

  “The doc over in Beaufort don’t know what to do?”

  “Nothing to be done, he says.”

  York shook his head. He didn’t understand why a man as good as Josh ended up with such sorrow while such good fortune had just fallen his way. “I’m sorry she’s no better,” he said sincerely. “I know these months been hard on you.”

  Josh swiped at his eyes and took Beth’s and Lucy’s hands. “Mr. York and Miss Camellia got things to talk about,” he said to them. “We need to give them some quiet. Let’s go check on your mama.”

  “I want to stay with Camellia,” argued Lucy.

  “She’ll be here when she’s finished. You know I can’t seem to get rid of her.” Josh winked at Camellia, then led the children from the room.

  When they’d gone, York faced Camellia. “Am I the last one to hear your big news, whatever it is?”

  She fell into his arms, her face joyful. He brushed her hair with his coarse hand. “You ought to just go on and get me out of my suspense.”

  “Trenton’s planning to marry me,” she said. “In spite of his mother.”

  “She’s set against it, I’m sure.”

  “His whole family is. They want him to marry some rich girl from Columbia! Say The Oak depends on it.”

  York led Camellia to a chair and sat her down. “But you say Trenton’s disobeyin’ his mama.”

  “Yes, he says we’ll marry next May.”

  York started to point out that the boy should’ve come to him first, but he felt so glad that he let it go. Another thought hit him as he sat down. “You say Mrs. Tessier told him The Oak is in some trouble?”

  “Yes. Said that bad yields had put The Oak in some debt to a bank in Charleston.”

  “It’s been down, but I don’t see it as too bad,” said York.

  “The Oak’s not in danger?” she asked.

  “Well, we had a low yield the last couple of years, but things like that happen time to time. Nothin’ to get all excited over unless there’s somethin’ happenin’ l don’t know about.”

  Camellia sat up straighter. “Then why is Mrs. Tessier saying otherwise?”

  York put in a new chew of tobacco. “Got several possibles. One, The Oak’s in trouble, and Mrs. Tessier is keepin’ it hidden from me.”

  “Why would she do that? And how?”

  “Don’t know either answer, but it’s a possibility. Maybe she borrowed some money on it for somethin’ other than runnin’ the place.”

  “What else?”

  “The most obvious thing: Mrs. Tessier is lyin’ to Master Trenton. She wants him to marry somebody else, so she makes up this poverty story to get him to go along.”

  “That’s mean,” Camellia said indignantly. “Why won’t she welcome me like anybody else?”

  York touched Camellia’s elbow. “We don’t live in that kind of world. People lie, cheat, do bad things. You need to know that for your own good.”

  “Seems sad to think that about folks.”

  “But it’s true—you got to admit it.”

  “1 need to tell Trenton she’s lying to him.”

  “Even if that’s what’s happenin’, it’s not your place to do that.”

  “But if she’s lying, he’d want to know that, don’t you think?”

  “What if she’s not? You can’t go tattlin’ on his mama. He’ll find out soon enough on his own, I expect. Leave it alone. We got more important worries right now.”

  “Like what?”

  His mouth turned up slightly at the corners. “Like where will we get you a weddin’ dress pretty enough to suit such a beautiful bride?”

  “You’re right, Pa.” Camellia grinned. “Let Mrs. Tessier think what she wants. Me and Trenton will wed in a year, and there’s nothing she can do to ruin that—nothing at all.”

  “I reckon you won’t do this anymore.” York waved his hand around the kitchen.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know—come here to help out.”

  “Why not?” Camellia looked surprised.

  “Won’t have time, for one thing. The missus of The Oak can’t be goin’ around actin’ like a common cook. Besides, you’ll probably live somewhere else half the time or more. You know how that is … most rich folks get out of the hot, swampy land from May to October, out of danger from all the sicknesses.”

  “I hadn’t figured on that,” said Camellia slowly. “I suppose I got a lot of changes coming my way.”

  “Reckon we both do,” York agreed.

  When he stood to leave, she stood too. As he hugged her, a warm feeling ran through his heart. Even though Camellia wasn’t his real daughter and he’d wanted this marriage for his own selfish reasons, he also wanted Camellia to find happiness. The truth that he hadn’t wanted this marriage only for himself made him feel better about the rough things he’d done since last November, like the money he’d kept from Mossy Bank Creek, Tarleton’s death in early April, and the slow, day-to-day taking of the funds from The Oak’s profits since Mr. Marshall Tessier’s death. Sure, Hampton York had his faults, but he wasn’t a bad man, least not as he saw it.

  He patted Camellia’s back. He wanted happiness for her just as he wished it for himself. Of course, now that she had snagged her man—and a rich one at that—he saw no reason why both of his wishes couldn’t come true.

  Footsteps behind him interrupted his pleasant thoughts as Beth rushed into the kitchen. “I need some water!” she said, her eyes scared. “Mama is … Mama is …”

  Camellia pulled away and ran toward Anna’s room, and York followed. As he entered the bedroom, he saw Josh holding Anna and rubbing her arms and back. Anna’s eyes were closed, and she lay limp in his arms. Beth ran
in, a dipper of water in hand. Josh took the water and tried to pour some down Anna’s throat, but it spilled on her chin and gown. When Josh gently opened Anna’s eyelids, York saw that her eyes were rolled back. Just by looking at her, York realized that her time to cross from life into death had finally come.

  His voice pleading, Josh talked to Anna as he held her. But she didn’t respond. The last of the day’s sun flooded Anna’s sweet face, but the time when she could enjoy its golden glow had passed. Her breath slowed, and then stopped altogether as life ebbed away.

  Tears rushed down Josh’s face and Beth’s and Lucy’s too as they stood beside the bed. York wanted to comfort his brother but didn’t know how.

  To his relief, Camellia put a gentle hand on Josh’s back and rubbed his shoulders. “She’s gone,” Camellia said. “You’ve done all you could.”

  Josh shook his head against her words, almost as if he could bring Anna back to life if he denied them, if he refused to accept the truth they spoke.

  As Camellia continued to rub Josh’s back, her hands as light as a butterfly, York saw the kindness in the young woman he’d raised and suddenly felt guilty again about his misdeeds—all the things he’d rationalized just a few minutes ago. Camellia’s purity made him want to live better, worthy of her. But how could he go back and make amends for all his sins? And how did a man really know a bad thing from a good one? Nothing he’d done seemed that evil to him; it was more a taking of an opportunity than a crime. Tarleton had come at him, given him no choice. The money at Mossy Bank had showed up out of the air, and he’d never figured what to do with it. Yes, taking the extra dollars from The Oak bordered on wrongdoing, but he deserved the money, didn’t he?

  Shaking his head, York focused on the room again. Several minutes passed, the people as still as a grave in the middle of the night. Only the sounds of low crying broke the stillness. Finally Camellia broke the silence.

  “You go on now, Josh,” Camellia soothed. “Take Lucy and Beth. Let me provide what Miss Anna needs now.”

  Josh looked up at her, his eyes questioning.

  York took Josh’s arm. “Come on. Let me get you some coffee.”

  Josh stared back at his wife. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered. “Just like that; here one minute, not here the next.”

  “Mama’s in a better place,” sobbed Beth. “Mama always said when we die we go to the Lord in heaven.”

  Josh nodded. Camellia took Beth and Lucy into her arms and hugged them for several seconds, then faced York. “I’ll make Miss Anna ready. Call Obadiah. We need a box built.”

  Josh turned to Anna once more, bent down, and kissed her cheek. “She’s not hurting anymore,” he said, sobbing. “The headaches are past. Least we can feel grateful for that.”

  “No man could do more for a woman than you did,” Camellia said.

  “I loved her,” he replied.

  He reached for Beth and Anna, picked them up. “I need to find Butler.”

  “He’s in the yard,” said Lucy tearfully. “Him and Copper.”

  York led them out while Camellia stayed in the room, shutting the door as they left.

  “Camellia is a fine girl,” Josh said gratefully. “Mighty mature for one her age.”

  “She helped us every day,” agreed Beth, her eyes teary. “Don’t know that we could’ve done without her.”

  “She cares for people,” said York. “More than most anybody I know.”

  Josh nodded. York got his grieving brother a cup of coffee, and the two men sat down. “Go get your brother,” Josh said to Beth. “Don’t tell him yet. Bring him to me.”

  She rushed from the room, and York took a sip of coffee and pondered the way that life could bring great happiness in one minute and deep sorrow in another. A few seconds later Beth led Butler inside.

  “I was playin’,” he said, his young face innocent.

  Josh moved to Butler and hugged him. Beth and Lucy held to Josh’s legs.

  “It’s your mama,” Josh told Butler. “She’s gone to be with the Lord.”

  “Reckon we won’t feel like playin’ again for a while,” said Beth.

  “Your mama would want you to play,” Josh said. “So we won’t stop that.”

  The children then started to cry. As York watched them, he felt sad too, because he knew what it felt like to lose somebody you loved. It felt like somebody reached into your chest and pulled out your heart with his bare hands and then held it up and showed it to you.

  Uncomfortable watching Josh and his children grieve, York moved to the back door, spat into the yard, straightened his spine, and reminded himself that he’d never again let anything like that happen to him. It might happen to others, even somebody as good as Josh. But it wouldn’t happen to him. No sir, it would not.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Camellia saw a lot of things on The Oak change the summer after Anna Cain died. As he’d promised, Trenton started taking more and more interest in the plantation, splitting time between there and Charleston, talking a lot with her pa about ways to make sure The Oak produced as much rice as possible for sale at the highest price they could find. About the same time that Trenton got involved, his mother loaded up her belongings and headed out. Although she didn’t follow through on her pledge to disown Trenton after he told her his plans to marry Camellia, she did let everybody know she didn’t approve of his choice and wouldn’t stay around to make arrangements for it. Trenton hung his head as her carriage headed out, but he didn’t go chasing after her. Camellia and everybody else on The Oak had to give him credit for that.

  Ruby married Obadiah in August that year, their marriage a simple matter under a canopy of thick oaks behind the servants’ houses. Trenton gave permission for it after Ruby asked Camellia to convince him of its merit.

  “Ruby will have babies if she marries,” Camellia reminded Trenton. “Good strong hands to help you build up this place.”

  “Marrying a free man might give her notions,” he argued. “Take her mind off her duties. And where will she live?”

  “She knows she has to live here—we talked of that. Obadiah will split time from his place to hers. She can go to his house from Saturday night to Sunday.”

  “She’s still with Stella while she’s here, though. I have no other house to give her.”

  “She figures that. She and Obadiah will take one room, Stella the other.”

  Trenton finally relented, and the parson came to perform the nuptials. Ruby didn’t much like having a white preacher marry them, but since Obadiah wanted it and Trenton said no heathen marriage would take place on his property, she gave in. Camellia stood on one side of her and Stella the other. The parson said the words, Obadiah and Ruby repeated them after him, and it was done. They walked away from The Oak as husband and wife.

  Trenton gave Ruby three days off to get her marriage started. She spent it with Obadiah—either in his house or sitting on a quiet section of ocean front, not far from Beaufort.

  After her three days ended, Ruby returned to The Oak, and she and Obadiah quickly settled into the rhythm of trying to make a life together.

  For a little while Camellia was at odds with Ruby over her reading lessons. Camellia offered to give them up so Ruby could spend more time with Obadiah; Ruby suggested that since Camellia would soon become the master’s wife, she ought to hire a real teacher to aid her with her letters. But the women said no to each other: Ruby because she said a “pledge made is a promise kept,” and Camellia for two reasons—because she wanted to surprise Trenton with her ability to read and because she refused to ask him for money.

  “I don’t have dollars to pay a teacher,” she told Ruby the first time the subject arose.

  “Master Trenton would give it to you,” Ruby suggested.

  “I’m not asking him for money.” Camellia frowned. “Maybe after we’re married, but not until.”

  “You’re a crazy woman,” mumbled Ruby. “Get it while you can.”

  “Just be qui
et and give me my lesson,” said Camellia. So Ruby did. The two of them met at least three times a week, using some of the simpler books from the Tessiers’ library as their guides for reading.

  The hottest days of August set in.

  Even though Trenton and her pa suggested she ought to stop, Camellia continued to go by Josh Cain’s every afternoon to do what she could to help. Sometimes she cooked, sometimes she cleaned, and sometimes she did some washing. Beth stayed close by her all the while, her big blue eyes so much like her kind mama’s that it made Camellia want to cry. Josh stayed quiet most of the time, his eyes red from tears and lack of sleep. Lots of days he didn’t come into the house until after dark, and every couple of weeks or so Camellia had to go get him to make him come in at all. She’d never seen a man so broken up, and her heart hurt for him.

  One night, near the middle of August, as Camellia and the children ate supper, a storm blew up right about sunset, the heavy wind stirring up dust and bending trees in all directions. Soon after, rain started falling, sheets of water lit up by lightning every few seconds. Butler started crying for his pa, and Beth tried to soothe him, her tiny arms barely able to wrap around her brother’s shoulders.

  “I know where he is,” said Camellia, drying her hands on her apron. “Same place he always is this time of day. He’ll come home soon.” She stared out the window. Butler wailed again, and Lucy soon joined him, their voices blaring out even louder than the storm.

  “You think Pa’s okay?” asked Beth, her voice shaky.

  “You want me to go get him?” asked Camellia, noting Beth’s fear.

  Beth nodded.

  Camellia grabbed a bonnet from a peg by the back door. “Stay here with Butler and Lucy,” Camellia directed the girl. “I’ll be right back.” Camellia opened the door and ran outside, her feet splashing as she rushed toward a grove of trees about three hundred yards away. She saw Josh Cain before she reached him as a streak of silver cut the sky. He sat on the ground by Anna’s grave, his back to Camellia, his clothes soaked.