Camellia

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Camellia Page 29

by Diane T. Ashley


  “You would do the same for us.” Camellia folded her napkin and put it on the table. “In fact, Eli’s parents—his entire family—have done the same for us already.”

  “They are a wonderful, giving, faith-filled family.” Renée stood and shook out her skirt. “I am worried about Jonah, however.”

  Camellia’s heart thumped. Had he been hurt again? Was that why he had not returned to his brother’s home? Was he wounded? Her hands itched for her bag of medicines. If he was hurt, she wanted to treat him now that she actually knew what to do to speed up his healing. “Where is he?” Raindrops peppered the windows, and Camellia noticed how dark it had grown in the dining room.

  Renée moved to light some of the candles in the room. “He’s gone south where the fighting is the worst.”

  Which probably meant he’d once again donned his Confederate uniform and gone in search of information to pass along to the Union. She wondered if he would be caught this time.

  “Eli and I pray for him every night, and for all of the soldiers fighting in this terrible war.” Renée hesitated a moment before continuing. “I hope you don’t mind that Lily told me about your Confederate beau. I know you have a good heart, dear, and you cannot be responsible for the person it chooses.”

  Camellia’s cheeks felt as bright as the candles Renée had lit. She wanted to blurt out the truth. Of course she cared for Thad and worried about him. He was her best friend’s brother. And he was handsome … and rich … and a good man, besides. The type of man she’d always yearned to marry. The type of man she would marry. Her head could and would rule over the desires of her heart.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  We have family in Natchez.” Lily felt like a parrot. How many times had she explained to the hard-faced Union soldier?

  “Yes, ma’am, I appreciate that fact. But I need you to understand what’s going on here.”

  Lily glanced past his right shoulder to the ships forming a floating city next to the bank. Soldiers, covered wagons, and horses made a raucous caravan of supplies from boat deck to the city of tents set some distance from the water’s edge. “It looks like a great deal of enterprise to me. Do you plan to have a permanent settlement here?”

  “That’s not for me to say.”

  “Of course not.” Lily tapped a foot as she waited for Blake and his Union escort to return from their inspection of the Water Lily. A movement in her stomach made her put a hand on her midsection.

  The officer’s gaze followed her movement, and an expression of surprise and awe came over his face. “Why don’t you sit down, ma’am?”

  “I believe I shall.” Lily tried to reassure her sisters and Anna with a look of confidence as she returned to the seat she’d vacated when the Union soldiers first boarded their boat.

  Camellia’s gaze burned Lily’s shoulders as she sat.

  Anna reached out a hand to her. “God will protect us.”

  “Of course.” Lily squeezed her hand before releasing it. “We’ll be on our way in a few minutes.”

  “I hope so.” Camellia picked at the lace on her sleeve.

  Lily frowned at her sister as the soldier stepped out into the passageway. “Be careful what you say. I don’t want us delayed any more than necessary.”

  Shouts from outside drew their attention to the single window. A string of logs had been laid to form a path for people on foot. One of them had apparently sunk under the weight of the foot traffic, leaving three hapless men standing thigh deep in thick, black mud. Their plight was causing great merriment from others as they tried to escape to drier ground.

  After watching their lack of progress for a minute or two, Lily turned her attention back to the others. “Those poor men. I don’t understand why everyone is laughing instead of offering to help them.”

  Blake strode into the parlor. “We’ll be under way in a minute. Next stop, Vicksburg.”

  Jasmine clapped her hands, while Anna and Camellia looked relieved.

  Lily stood and moved toward him. “Perhaps we should try to bypass the port there to avoid further delays.”

  “We cannot.” Camellia tossed a desperate glance in her direction. “I must check on Jane and her family.”

  “I know we planned to do that, but I’m not sure the Confederates will even allow us to land there.”

  “But we have to try. I haven’t received a letter from Jane since Christmas, and I’m very worried about her. Please, you must let me go see about her.”

  Lily glanced at her husband’s tight face. She could tell he was leery of making the attempt. “Why don’t we wait and see what the situation is in Vicksburg? Then we can decide our best course.”

  Camellia’s eyes filled with tears, but she nodded, her heart obviously broken at the news that she might not get to see her beau.

  Lily’s own heart ached for her. She left her husband’s side and sat down next to her sister. “We’ll do everything we can to check on them.”

  “Thank you.” Camellia pulled a handkerchief from the sleeve of her gown and used it to dash away the tears trying to escape her eyes.

  Jasmine moved toward them, too, her dark eyes troubled.

  Lily put her arms around both of her sisters. The hug they shared warmed her. “I love y’all so much. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

  As the Water Lily chugged away from the Yankee encampment, she thought about the families that had been torn apart by the war and sent a prayer of thanks to God for keeping the three of them together.

  Camellia ran the last few steps to the picket fence that surrounded Jane’s family home. As she reached for the gate latch, the front door flew open, and a glad cry came from the young woman standing there.

  “Jane!” Camellia picked up her skirts and dashed forward.

  Jane met her in the middle of the front lawn, and the two friends embraced. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”

  “I know. It’s been so long.” Camellia leaned back and frowned. “Why didn’t you answer any of my letters?”

  A frown marred Jane’s pretty face. “I didn’t receive any correspondence from you at all. I thought you had forgotten all about me once you and your family went north.”

  “I wrote to you every week, telling you all about Blake’s family and Cape Girardeau.”

  “None of them got through.” Jane shrugged. “So I had no direction to put on a letter to you. But come inside, and you can tell me all about it.”

  “I only have half an hour to visit. Then I must return to the docks or Lily and Blake will come looking for me.”

  “Half an hour? That’s not nearly enough time. You cannot leave me again so soon. Why don’t you plan on staying for a while? I know my mother and Thad would love to see you.”

  Camellia gave her a hug. “I was hoping you would invite me. Maybe together we can convince my family I should stay.”

  “It will be perfect. Thad comes by to check on us every day, so your family can have no qualms about your safety.” Jane pulled her up the steps and into her home. “I’ll collect Mother and my cloak, and we’ll go to the boat together to convince them.”

  Carried forward on the wave of her friend’s enthusiasm, Camellia watched as her plan came to fruition. Jane’s mother, an older version of her daughter, accompanied them to the Water Lily to convince Blake and Lily to let her remain. She didn’t feel any pangs of regret as she stood next to her trunks and waved good-bye to her family.

  On the ride back to the Watkinses’ home, Camellia asked them what had been happening since she last saw them.

  “We lost the steeple of the Baptist church to a Yankee shell.” Jane pointed out the window. “And some of our slaves have dug a cave area for the family. We’ve retreated to it twice this winter.”

  Mrs. Watkins shuddered. “It’s a terrible inconvenience.”

  “But better than braving death when the shelling begins.”

  Camellia couldn’t imagine the fear these women had faced. “You are both very brave.�


  “Thad tells us to pretend we are staying in a medieval castle.” Jane rolled her eyes. “I cannot quite manage that, but it is an adventure to make the place habitable.”

  Would she have to go to the cave? A frisson of fear slid through Camellia. Perhaps she should not have been so hasty to insist on remaining. At the end, Lily and Blake had left the decision up to her. Camellia had not hesitated at all, but now she wondered if she’d been foolish. Deciding it was too late to question her choice, she sat back against the cushions and prayed for God’s protection.

  Feeling better because of the peace that entered her heart, Camellia listened to Jane and her mother discussing the high prices and scarcity of even the most basic foods. Flour and sugar were almost impossible to find and certainly beyond the means of any but the richest of Vicksburg’s inhabitants.

  “Miss Claiborne told me last week that her father has taken apart their smokehouse,” Jane reported.

  Camellia asked, “Why ever would he do such a thing?”

  Mrs. Watkins sniffed. “They boil the wood for water for broth.”

  “Are things so desperate?”

  The carriage slowed to a halt as Jane nodded. “We may have to consider doing the same thing.”

  Camellia shook her head. She waited for Mrs. Watkins to disembark before turning to her friend. “I hope we can visit the hospital later.”

  “Of course.” Jane climbed down and straightened her skirts. “I go over there nearly every afternoon. It’s my Christian duty to offer succor to our brave soldiers.”

  The prospect of becoming involved with the hospital made Camellia feel much better. No matter what privations she might face, it would be worth it if she helped their soldiers heal. Aunt Tessie had taught her so much. She welcomed the chance to put her skills to work.

  The hospital slouching at one end of Pearl Street had serviced the sick and infirm for about ten years. Sunlight peeked between a pair of dark clouds and highlighted the ill-tended lawn, giving the area a foreboding air. Some of the windows had been covered with boards, probably to replace windowpanes shattered by enemy shells.

  As the carriage dropped them off, Camellia wrapped her hand around the handle of her bag of medicines and ointments and lifted her chin. No matter how grim the setting or how difficult her self-appointed tasks, she was determined to make use of the talent God had given her.

  A nun greeted Jane at the door, her face enclosed in a white wimple. “Thank you so much for coming again today, Miss Watkins. I know how much your visits mean to our young men.”

  “It’s the least we can do, Sister Alice. We may not be able to fight in the battles, but we can support those who do.”

  Camellia waited behind them as the sister mentioned some of the men whom Jane must have visited in the past.

  “Please excuse me.” Jane turned to her and pulled her forward. “This is my dearest friend, Camellia Anderson.”

  “Welcome, Miss Anderson. It’s kind of you to volunteer.”

  “I am eager to be of service, Sister.”

  Before the nun could answer, a groan from the room behind her focused all of them on the reason for being at the hospital. Sister Alice nodded and turned to the open door. Jane pulled her skirt close to her legs and followed the nun into the first room.

  The smell reminded Camellia of the horrendous days on their trip from Jacksonport. But the number of patients then had been much lower than the number of men whose cots filled every available inch of floor space. Little room remained between the cots to allow them to maneuver. Now Camellia understood why Jane had insisted they leave off their hoops. Their voluminous skirts would have seriously impeded their progress.

  The first bed they came to held a young man with dark, feverish eyes.

  “Hello, Ray.” The nun bent over him, raising her voice to counteract the moans coming from the other cots. “Look who I brought to see you today.”

  The poor fellow seemed oblivious to them. He moved his head back and forth on his pillow and made unintelligible noises, something between a grunt and a moan. He was obviously in a great deal of pain. His cheeks were splotchy, and his eyes bore a bright, fevered glaze.

  “He seems much worse today, poor thing.” The nun straightened and looked toward them. “I prayed with him last night, but today he is not even coherent.”

  Camellia put a hand on his forehead. His fever was dangerously high. If they didn’t do something to remedy the situation, he would likely die before the day was out. Reaching for the bag at her feet, she opened it and looked for her bag of mint leaves. “Do you have a bowl of water and some clean rags?”

  Sister Alice’s face froze for a moment as she considered Camellia’s question, but then she nodded and disappeared from the sickroom, returning a moment later with the required items.

  Camellia sprinkled some of the crushed leaves into the water and stirred, watching as the water turned green. She soaked the rag in the treatment, pulled it out, wrung the excess water from it, and placed it on the soldier’s forehead.

  The result was immediate. He stopped tossing his head, and the glaze in his eyes dimmed a little.

  She was relieved to see the calming effect of her treatment.

  “You’re an answer to prayer.” The nun’s voice was filled with joy and wonder. “We’ve been running low on supplies, and no one has the time or temerity to venture into the woods to collect fresh herbs.”

  Her hope gave Camellia a feeling of satisfaction. This was the Lord’s doing. He had put her in this place at this time to do His will. It was an exciting, humbling idea. “I don’t have enough for everyone, but we can begin by treating the most serious cases.”

  “This is wonderful.” The nun steepled her hands and bowed her head. “Thank You, Lord, for providing in our time of terrible need.” She was silent for a moment as she communed with God. Then she raised her head, determination in every line of her face. “Let’s get to the kitchen and see what we can do.”

  Camellia closed her bag and nodded. She glanced toward Jane, who was already moving to another bed where she took the hand of the soldier and began talking to him in a cheerful manner. Each of them had something she could offer the men here. She hoped it would be enough to make a difference.

  The hours sped by as she measured out dosages and gave them to the patients according to their needs. She ran out of willow bark first then camphor. By the time they left the hospital, her bag of medicines was much lighter, and every muscle in Camellia’s back ached. But satisfaction overrode her pain. “We make a good team.”

  “I don’t know that my part is important.” Jane glanced at her. “But I cannot believe how much you learned in Missouri. You are saving lives.”

  “Don’t be so modest. I may have some medicine to help relieve them, but you give them hope by talking to them and reminding them of their homes and families. Without the will to get stronger, no amount of medicine can heal them.”

  Camellia could see that her words had struck a chord with Jane. Her head lifted, and tears made her eyes gleam in the dusky light of late afternoon.

  Jane reached for her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “I’m so glad you’ve returned to Vicksburg. And I know someone else who will be equally delighted to see you.”

  Knowing her friend was referring to Thad, Camellia smiled. “I can’t wait to see him, too.”

  “General Pemberton keeps him fairly busy, but I hope he’ll be at home for dinner tonight.”

  Camellia looked down at the soiled material of her gown. “I hope I brought enough clothes with me.”

  Laughing, Jane linked arms with her. “If not, we’ll have to share like we did at La Belle.”

  The words brought back happy memories. Her life had taken so many unexpected turns since then. Suddenly the time she’d spent in New Orleans seemed unimportant. But without it, she never would have formed this link with Jane. In these uncertain days, such friendships seemed especially important, so she was determined to treasure this one.


  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Dinner had almost ended when Thad Watkins appeared in the entrance to the dining room. “Am I too late to dine with you?”

  His mother shook her head, the dark curls on either side of her jaw quivering. “Of course not.”

  “Look who has come to join us.” Jane pointed toward her.

  “Camellia?” He turned his handsome face in her direction. “Is it really you?”

  She pushed back her chair and stood. “It’s so nice to see you, Captain Watkins.”

  Thad took two long strides to reach her and wrapped her in his arms.

  Jane giggled, but when Camellia emerged from his embrace, she caught the look of disapproval from his mother. Her face heated, and she stepped back to put a proper distance between them. Her heart was pounding so fast in her chest, she felt like she’d run across the city. Putting a hand on her chest, she glanced back up at him.

  “You’re as beautiful as ever.” His eyes made her think of warm chocolate.

  She couldn’t help the thrill that shot through her in response to his compliment and admiring gaze. “We’re embarrassing your mother.”

  He cleared his throat and looked past her to his parent. “Please excuse my enthusiasm, Mother. I forgot myself for a moment in the excitement of seeing her here.”

  “Even though we are caught in the midst of war, we must not forget propriety. If we do, then it will not matter whether or not we win.”

  He left Camellia to move to his mother’s chair and drop a kiss on her raised cheek. “You’re right as always. Please forgive me. I promise to be more circumspect.”

  Camellia slid back into her chair and put her napkin back in her lap while one of the servants laid a fresh setting for Thad. Her heartbeat returned to normal as she watched him interact with his family.

  The shadow of a beard darkened his chin, giving him a slightly dangerous look. But his smile was as bright as ever. “How have you been since leaving Vicksburg last fall?”

  Jane passed him a basket of yeast rolls. “Camellia has learned how to be a doctor.”

 

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