Camellia

by Diane T. Ashley

  Chapter Forty-one

  Jonah Thornton! I have a message for Jonah Thornton.”

  The voice called him from a dream, a dream of secret waterfalls and stolen kisses. With a groan, he rolled over and peeked out from the opening of his tent. “I’m Jonah Thornton.”

  The messenger’s head turned as Jonah pushed himself up. He was young but carried his satchel with obvious pride. Reaching inside it, he produced a white envelope with Jonah’s name printed in bold black letters.

  “Thank you.”

  The boy’s salute was crisp. Then he looked inside his bag and read the next name. “Tom Waterford! I have a message …”

  Jonah put his finger under the seal to break it.

  “A love letter?” Cage’s drawl held a teasing note. “It’s about time for the ladies to catch up with you.”

  His gaze dropped to the bottom of the letter and read the signature. His lips curled. “Yes, and her name is Blake Matthews.”

  Both of them laughed at the suspicious looks from some of the nearby soldiers.

  Jonah raised his voice to explain. “His wife and my sister are close friends.” He glanced at the stationery in his right hand:

  Dear Jonah,

  Lily and I are sending this note to you in the hope that you can help her sister Camellia. You may remember she is the sister whom we came to remove from New Orleans as the city was being occupied by Union forces.

  Jonah rolled his eyes. If only Blake knew how closely acquainted he was with the middle Anderson sister, he would probably demand satisfaction instead of sending him a polite letter.

  A few months ago, during a trip from Memphis to Natchez, we allowed her to visit friends in Vicksburg. After we reached Natchez, the situation on the river deteriorated further, and we have been unable to secure passage for her or permission to return to Vicksburg.

  She is trapped within the confines of the city, and we are unable to reach her. If you could ascertain her whereabouts and conditions and report them to us, we would be very grateful.

  Also, if you speak to her directly, you might wish to convey the happy news that she is an aunt to the most handsome little boy named Noah.

  We appreciate your help in this matter and remain prayerfully hopeful that we may all survive this war.

  With sincerest thanks,

  Blake Matthews

  Jonah’s heart was beating so hard it felt as if it might jump from his chest.

  “What’s the matter?” Cage touched his arm. “Your face is as white as a field of cotton.”

  Unable to express the fear that had taken hold of him, Jonah shook his head. He had wondered from time to time where Camellia was. She had even told him she was planning to visit her friend and that pompous captain. But he’d never really thought her family would have allowed her to stay. Perhaps stop by for an afternoon visit, but then she should have gotten right back onto her sister’s boat and sailed away to safety. “I have to talk to Grant.”

  Cage pulled his hand back as though he’d been burned. “General Grant?”

  Jonah nodded. He had to sneak into the city and see Camellia to safety. In the past month, the situation inside the city had gotten bad. While the soldiers sniped at each other from their positions in the ravines and on the hillsides, no food had passed into the city for several weeks. The rumor was that the civilians and soldiers had been reduced to eating mule in place of beef and pork and that all the cats and dogs in the city had disappeared.

  The townspeople had moved into caves to escape the shells falling into the city. He had to get to her, no matter the cost.

  Camellia couldn’t remember ever being so tired in her life. Her hand went to the small of her back, and she massaged the area.

  “How long has it been since you rested?” Sister Alice touched her shoulder.

  Looking out the window, she was surprised to see the sun dipping low on the horizon. “I’m not sure.”

  The nun frowned her displeasure. “You look ready to drop.”

  “Where’s Jane?”

  The nun pointed past the rows of cots. “The last time I saw her, she was sitting by some of the new arrivals.”

  A sigh filled Camellia’s chest. Would the steady stream of sick and wounded soldiers never end?

  “I’ll go find her.” Camellia checked the forehead of a soldier who had lost his left arm to a minie ball. It was cooler than yesterday. She pulled a notebook out of her bag and made a notation.

  Sister Alice’s habit bounced as she tapped her foot. “You need to leave right now, or you’ll have to walk back in the dark.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Camellia smiled at the older lady. Sister Alice could be a tough drill sergeant, but her motives were always good. “I just have to tell Dr. Dickson I’m leaving.”

  “I’ll tell him. You go on.”

  She knew when she was outmaneuvered. Walking to the outer room, Camellia collected Jane. “Let’s go home.”

  Jane made a face. “You mean to the cave.”

  “It’s safer than staying in town.” As if to emphasize her statement, the whistle of a missile made both of them freeze.

  The sound had become so common in the past weeks they could tell when it passed their location. The floor shook ahead of the boom as it hit another part of the city. Camellia hoped Willow Grove was unharmed.

  “Let’s go.” Jane’s dark tresses were limp, and her eyes no longer held a sparkle. It had been ground out of her by the death and sickness they encountered on a daily basis, compounded by the heat of summer, the uncomfortable sleeping cots in the cave, and the lack of proper nutrition.

  Obed, the large, quiet slave who had been assigned to accompany them back and forth from the hospital, met them as they stepped outside. Camellia wondered what he did all day while they were inside. She was glad to have his escort, as the soldiers who seemed to inhabit every street of the city might have been a problem otherwise.

  Jane kicked a pebble ahead of them. “I wonder how long it will take before the Yankees give up and go home.”

  “Is that what you really think will happen?”

  “Either that or General Johnston’s reinforcements will arrive. Thad says if they come, we will squash them between the two legs of our army.” She slapped her hands together to illustrate the maneuver. “Vicksburg will never fall.”

  Another shell whistled overhead. Camellia looked up and saw its arc. No danger. She continued walking. “I don’t know. They seem very determined.”

  They finished their walk in silence. Camellia wanted to reach out to her friend, but she didn’t know how. It seemed they had grown in different directions. Jane still wanted the South to win. She didn’t see anything wrong with their old lifestyle and couldn’t wait to resume it.

  Although Camellia deplored the war, she welcomed the change she believed it would bring. She wanted freedom for all slaves. She didn’t want to return to the past, not since her eyes had been opened. Balls and fancy gowns had lost their attraction, as had every other aspect of a life of privilege. She wanted to spend her life in more serious pursuits.

  Mrs. Watkins greeted them at the entrance to the cave. “I have a wonderful surprise for you girls.”

  Camellia and Jane exchanged a glance. All either of them wanted to do was eat a little and fall into bed. They’d both had a long day. And tomorrow wouldn’t be any shorter or easier.

  “What’s the surprise?”

  Mrs. Watkins giggled like a young girl. “Your brother has brought us a roast.”

  Tiredness receded as Camellia’s mouth watered. For the past week, they’d subsisted on turnips and canned beans. “Where did he find a roast?”

  “Who cares?” Mrs. Watkins led the way into the main room. “I thought you girls were never going to get here, and Thad insisted we had to wait for you.”

  The room that served as a dining room and a parlor had undergone a dramatic change since they’d left this morning. The large dining table from the house took up most of the space. It had bee
n covered with a white cloth that reached to the floor. A pair of silver candelabra sat on either side of a tall vase of fresh flowers that dominated the center of the table. Four place settings, two on each of the long sides of the table, invited them to take seats and dine, really dine, for the first time since they’d retreated to the cave.

  Thad stepped out of the shadows, a look of expectation on his handsome face.

  Camellia wished for a moment she could be in love with him. But then sanity returned. Thad would make an excellent husband for someone … but not her.

  “Welcome.” He bowed and indicated the table. “If you ladies will take your seats, I’ll check on our dinner.”

  Jane sat on the far side of the table. Before Camellia could slip into the seat next to her, Mrs. Watkins blocked her path. “Why don’t you sit on this side? I know Thad would rather sit next to a pretty girl than his mother.”

  “I thought he was unhappy with me because of our time at the hospital.”

  Mrs. Watkins sat down next to her daughter and put her napkin in her lap. “He’s past all that. His friends are impressed with the work you and Jane are doing. He told me so while we were waiting for y’all.”

  Camellia folded her lips into a straight line. Was she supposed to be mollified because Thad’s friends had judged her actions acceptable? She managed to swallow her irritation as Thad returned, followed by three slaves.

  He was so proud of his efforts. And she had to admit the food was outstanding. Thad was charming, telling them amusing stories about men answering roll call wearing only one boot or with a shirt on wrong side out.

  Camellia laughed in the appropriate places, but her eyelids were threatening to close in spite of her best efforts. She held her napkin in front of her mouth to hide a yawn. “I’m afraid I must excuse myself.” Camellia pushed back her chair.

  Thad jumped to his feet and helped her, ever the gentleman. “I have something I need to discuss with you if you have a moment.”

  Tiredness washed through her. All Camellia wanted to do was climb into her cot, but a glance at Thad’s tense features made her ignore her desire. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, but I need to seek your advice on a private matter.” His smile appeared as he offered his elbow. “Let’s step outside.”

  When they reached the entrance to the cave, a cool breeze lifted the hair from the back of her neck. A group of slaves huddled near the cooking fire, their voices too low for them to hear.

  Thad walked her away from them, to the edge of the light from their cave. She sat on a convenient boulder and watched as he paced back and forth in front of her. Another yawn threatened to crack her jaw. If Thad didn’t hurry, she would fall asleep before he got started.

  When he knelt before her, however, Camellia’s sleepiness fled. Thad took possession of her left hand. “I don’t know how much longer our troops can hold out. It’s only a matter of time until we have to surrender to the Yankees. I’ll be taken prisoner, but I’m very worried about what may happen to you.”

  “Please, Thad.” Camellia tried to pull her hand from his grasp, but Thad would not release it.

  “Let me finish before you say anything.”

  She sighed. “Go on, then.”

  “Mother and Jane have the protection of our family name. It will stop the Yankees from harming them. But you do not have a male protector nearby, and I think we should remedy that. You are a beautiful woman, accomplished and strong. It would give me great pleasure if you would agree to become my wife.”

  Camellia squeezed his hand. “While I am flattered by your offer, I must refuse. I am fond of you, Thad, and I admire your steadfastness, but I do not love you in that way.”

  “I will teach you to love me.”

  Her empathy disappeared, as did the desire to let him down easily. “That’s not possible. My heart belongs to another man.”

  He let go of her then, his face slack with surprise. “Who is he? Is he one of the doctors at the hospital?”

  Camellia thought of kindly old Dr. Dickson, who must be at least midway through his forties. “No. And I warn you to stop guessing before you further insult me. I appreciate your offer, but it cannot be.”

  Thad stood and brushed dirt off his trousers. “Why not?”

  “You are going to make some lucky girl very happy.” She put a hand on his arm. “And I really wish I was that girl, but we want different things for our lives. Since I’ve been working at the hospital, I’ve realized how much I can contribute beyond my looks.”

  “I rather like your looks.”

  She grinned at him, relieved when he grinned back. “Thank you for the compliment, Captain. You are quite attractive yourself.”

  He tilted his head to one side. “In that case …”

  Camellia pushed herself up from the boulder. “Don’t you see? We have a great friendship, but there’s no spark between us. When I marry, I want it to be because I cannot stand the idea of living without him.”

  “You’ve given me a lot to think about, Camellia.” He walked her back to the cave opening. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out between us.”

  “Me, too.”

  As he strode back toward his station, she thought his step was not that of a man who was crushed by disappointment. That was a relief. She didn’t want to hurt Thad, and she hoped he would find a wonderful girl he couldn’t live without.

  Searching out her own cot, Camellia completed her toilette with a minimum of fuss and climbed into bed, her eyelids closing the moment her head rested on the pillow.

  Chapter Forty-two

  A loud explosion woke Camellia, the concussion throwing her to the floor. For a moment she couldn’t get her bearings. The darkness of the cave was absolute. She felt around her until her hand closed over the foot of her cot. “Jane?”

  She heard the snick of a tinderbox, and a candle’s flame dispelled the darkness. “Are you okay?”

  Camellia nodded. She threw a wrapper over her gown and slid her feet into slippers. “That was close.” The idea of being buried alive inside the cave made her heart pound.

  Someone came rushing in, and her breath caught. Had the Yankees finally overrun them? But the face that appeared in their doorway belonged to one of the maids. “Please come quick, Miss Camellia. Someone’s been hurt.”

  Grabbing her bag, Camellia followed without question. Was it Mrs. Watkins? Or one of the families who lived in a nearby cave? She prayed as she ran, leaning on God for the courage and strength to meet whatever awaited her.

  The sky outside was much lighter than she’d expected after the gloom of the cave. The first rays of the sun peeked above the horizon. That was the direction they headed, toward the field of wildflowers and the old oak tree that had become a shelter for many of the slaves.

  The oak tree looked odd to her, and then Camellia realized what was wrong. It was canted, leaning at an angle. Her breath caught, and she came to an abrupt halt.

  “Come with me, Miss Camellia.” The maid tugged on her arm. “Obed’s bleeding real bad. Can you help him?”

  “I’ll try.” Camellia ran to a small knot of women, pushing her way through them until she could see Obed’s familiar face.

  The wound was nasty. Flayed skin exposed muscle and bone. She used the belt of her wrapper to stop the bleeding and began cleaning the wound. Obed’s face was turning gray, and she worried he was dying. “Hang on, Obed. I’m working as fast as I can.”

  His eyes opened, and he managed a shaky smile. “I’m not gonna go anywhere unless you say I can, Miss Camellia.”

  She threaded a needle and stitched up the worst of the wounds. At least the bones had not broken. The worst effect would be the loss of blood. If she could get Obed stitched up well enough, he should be okay.

  She was finishing her work as a shadow fell across Obed’s body. “What are you doing out here?”

  Camellia looked up and saw the appalled faces of Jane and her mother. “Obed was hit by a bomb.”

  �
��His people will take care of him.” Mrs. Watkins’s voice was cold. Wasn’t she worried about the man at all? Obed had worked for her family for years.

  “His people have no medical supplies or experience.”

  Jane rolled her eyes. “Come back to the cave.”

  “I will when I’m through.”

  Several moments passed in silence. Camellia mopped up the blood and leaned back on her heels to see what else she needed to do.

  “Come along, Mother. We can’t make her come with us.”

  “I don’t know what she expects us to do.” Mrs. Watkins’s voice floated back to her. “We can hardly keep body and soul together. It’s all the fault of the Yankees. If they would just go away, we could resume our lives as before.”

  “Then I pray the Yankees never go away.” Camellia’s gaze met Obed’s. The kindness and patience apparent on his face made her want to weep.

  “Me, too, Miss Camellia. Me, too.”

  The boat, Jonah’s exit out of the city, was secure from the view of Confederate pickets. He’d gotten the location of Willow Grove from a bewildered prisoner they’d captured a few days earlier. All he needed to do now was get into the city, collect Camellia, and escape without being caught.

  “I can set off a small mine at the end of one of our tunnels.” Cage held up a torch to show him an artillery shell with a long lead.

  Jonah remembered an earlier attempt to gain entrance through one of the tunnels they’d dug underneath the feet of the Confederates. “What will stop someone from shooting me as I emerge?”

  “We’ve learned from our mistakes. This tunnel goes further than that last one. It burrows underneath their defensive positions and continues another quarter of a mile. You should come out somewhere close to the center of the city.”

  “No matter where it comes out, someone will hear the explosion and come to investigate.” Jonah wanted to get Camellia out, not get them both killed.

  Cage shook his head. “We’ll time it to go off at the same time as a barrage of cannon fire. No one will notice. I guarantee it. Do you think I want you to get shot?”