“Of course not.” Jonah clapped his friend on the shoulder. “When can we do it?”
“Give me five minutes.”
Jonah went to his tent and pulled out the Confederate uniform he’d worn during the battle near Memphis. It was more than a little tattered, but that shouldn’t raise any suspicions. He doubted any of the soldiers defending Vicksburg looked any better. He dressed quickly and met Cage at the mouth of the tunnel. “Are you ready?”
Cage nodded. “As soon as they start firing, I’ll blow the entrance. I’ll be praying for you.”
“No matter what happens, I appreciate your help.”
From a distance they heard the order to fire. The night sky lit up as one cannon after another belched out their deadly missiles.
“Godspeed.” Cage pressed the detonator.
Dropping into a hunch, Jonah crabbed his way through the tunnel. He prayed for God’s protection, prayed that he might reach Camellia, prayed that they might escape safely. The dim circle of the tunnel mouth came into view, and Jonah’s heart climbed into his throat. This was the most dangerous time. He stopped to listen for a moment, trying to ascertain if anyone had noticed the explosion and was waiting for him to emerge.
Another round of shells exploded overhead, and he pushed forward, bursting from the ground with all the speed he could muster. Half expecting to meet the blast of a rifle, he rolled in a ball and tried to protect his head … and tumbled down a small rise to lie in the middle of someone’s backyard.
No one was awaiting him. Jonah breathed a prayer of thanks and pushed himself to his feet. Now if he was seen, he would be just one of the occupying soldiers. He pulled his cap from the pocket of his trousers and put it on, pulling the bill down to hide his features. The chances of running into someone who knew him were not high, but he didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks.
Willow Grove had been described as tall and yellow, with columns and a white picket fence. He looked around but found no house to match that description. Time to explore the neighborhood.
No dogs barked at him as he traveled the streets of the town. No cats slinked in the shadows. The only people he saw were dressed in uniforms like his own. He saluted when appropriate and moved past them with the confidence of a man who had a specific destination. It was a tactic that served him well.
Nearly an hour passed before he came upon a house matching the description he’d been given. It was dark, of course. The front door was locked, but a window next to it opened easily, and Jonah stepped into the parlor.
Moving as silently as he could manage, Jonah checked the rooms downstairs. By the time he climbed the stairs, he was certain the house was empty. If they had moved to a cave, he had no idea how to find Camellia. Desperation filled him as he checked bedroom after bedroom. What was he going to do?
“Stop right there, thief.” The sound came from the landing behind him. It was a voice he remembered. “Raise your hands and turn around slowly.”
Jonah did as ordered. “Hi, Thad. Is this the way you treat your friends?”
“You!” Thad raised the rifle an inch. “I ought to shoot you right here.”
“But you don’t want to get blood all over the floor, right?”
Thad’s mouth twitched a little, and the deadly bore lowered until it was aimed at Jonah’s chest instead of his head.
Jonah didn’t know if that was much of an improvement.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to collect Camellia, and your sister, too, if you trust me to get her out of here.”
The rifle lowered a few inches more. “You’re not going anywhere except prison.”
“I can’t.” Jonah let his hands down. “I hear you have a flea problem there, and I’m terribly allergic.”
“You’ll be laughing from the other side of your mouth soon. I’m not going to let you slip away again. You’ve betrayed your people, and you have to pay the price.”
It was time to make a decision. If it came to hand-to-hand combat, he felt like he could get the weapon away from Thad, but he might kill him in the process. Then he would never find Camellia, and if he did, she might never forgive him for killing the lout. Lord, what should I do?
“Get your hands back up.” Thad gestured with his rifle.
Jonah obeyed him, although he only lifted his hands to the height of his shoulders. He rocked forward onto the balls of his feet in preparation to grab the rifle away from Thad. “Do you plan to parade me through town?”
“Th—” Whatever Thad was about to say was lost forever in the screaming whistle of a shell and a burst of light.
The explosion that followed catapulted Jonah through the air. Then the floor rose up to meet him, and everything went black.
Chapter Forty-three
I had hasn’t been to see us in several days.” Mrs. Watkins looked toward her daughter, ignoring Camellia as she’d done for several days. Ever since Obed had been hurt.
Jane pulled at the collar of her gown. “I know. He may be avoiding us.” She gave Camellia a piercing look full of accusation.
The night sky lit up with a barrage of shells. Only a few weeks ago, the three women would have run inside the cave for shelter, but now they waited and watched before moving. The direction was wrong to threaten them, so they kept their seats at the mouth of their cave.
Mrs. Watkins waved her fan in front of her face. “The Yankees don’t want us to get any sleep tonight.”
Camellia wondered if the woman blamed her for the Yankees’ persistence. Probably. She felt very unwelcome in their cave.
She and Jane were still going to the hospital every day. They’d come to an agreement to avoid discussing the slaves’ right to equal consideration since it was obvious they would never agree on that subject.
They had patched up their friendship, and Camellia was beginning to feel much better. So much so that she had made the mistake of telling her about Thad’s proposal. She didn’t think her friend would ever forgive her for “breaking Thad’s heart.” No matter how much Camellia tried to explain that Thad didn’t really love her, Jane was determined to defend her brother.
So here she was, stuck living with two women who obviously wished her gone. Camellia wondered how much longer the siege could go on. The soldiers were so weak from starvation that she wondered how they kept alert. Surely General Pemberton would see the futility of continuing to hold out. Vicksburg might be unassailable, but starvation would kill as surely as bullets and mortars.
One of the women who lived nearby came running toward them, her skirts raising a cloud of dust. “Lawson came by a few minutes ago and gave us some bad news.”
Camellia’s heart fell. What now?
“It’s Willow Grove. It was hit by those infernal Yankees.” The woman put a hand to her chest and gasped for air before continuing. “It didn’t catch fire, thank the good Lord, but your roof is gone.”
Jane jumped from her seat and looked toward her mother. “We need to go see about our things.”
Mrs. Watkins’s face shone white in the light of the torch. “I can’t…. I don’t … feel right.”
She slumped forward and toppled from the chair.
Jane ran to her, turning her mother over and chafing her hand.
Camellia knelt beside her, wishing she had her medicines. She checked the older lady’s wrist. The pulse was weak but steady. “I’m sure she’s overheated. You stay here. I’ll get a cool cloth, and we’ll have her feeling better right away.”
It took a quarter hour, but they managed to get a weepy Mrs. Watkins into her bed.
Camellia and Jane stepped outside the cave to discuss their next move. “You stay here and watch your mother. I’ll go check on the house and report back to you.”
Jane tossed her a grateful look. “Would you?”
“I’ll be back before you know it.” Camellia set off for town at a brisk pace, a torch in her hand.
The picket fence looked as fresh as it had when she first arr
ived in Vicksburg. How long ago that seemed. She tucked away her thoughts for consideration later. Right now she had to focus on her task—checking on the house and reporting back to the others.
A window stood ajar. A result of the explosion? She stepped through it into the parlor, holding the torch in front of her while she looked for a candle. Why had she not brought a candelabrum with her?
A satisfied sound escaped her lips as she found a box of candles near the hearth. Lighting one from the failing light of the torch, she took stock. This room looked untouched. Camellia exited and looked up, surprised in spite of herself to see stars twinkling above her head.
The roof had an enormous hole. They would have to get someone here immediately to patch that before a summer thunderstorm drenched the interior of the house.
Foreboding stole over her. Camellia tried to dismiss the feeling as a result of the destruction, but something raised the hair on her arms. Something was wrong in the house. Clenching her jaw, she considered the stairs. They looked secure. She put her foot on the first step, her heart pounding in her chest.
Was that a rustle from the second-floor landing? Probably a mouse or some other small rodent. At least she hoped it was. Lecturing herself silently, she continued moving upward. She would take a quick look around and leave. She and Jane could come back in the morning for a more thorough investigation.
Having made that promise, Camellia rushed up the last few steps. The wallpaper was blackened and smelled awful. It would probably have to be stripped.
Camellia’s foot struck something soft, and she almost fell. Her candle showed her a gray uniform. Had someone been in the house when the shell struck it?
A groan made her catch her breath. “Thad? Is that you?” She leaned over the man, careful to keep wax from dripping on him. His features looked odd in the candlelight. Not odd. Wrong. His hair was auburn, his chin shorter. He looked like … like Jonah Thornton.
“Jonah?” She touched his face with a trembling finger. “Jonah? What have you done?” Tears blurred her vision. What was he doing in Willow Grove? In Vicksburg?
She snuffed out the candle and put it down on the floor next to his prone body. “Jonah, wake up. Please, you can’t die. I love you.” She felt the truth of her words reverberate through her. The pain nearly tore her in two.
Camellia put his head in her lap and rocked back and forth. “God, I don’t know why Jonah is here, but I beg You to please let him live. Give me the chance to tell him the truth. I promise, God, that I won’t let the opportunity escape this time. Only please give Jonah back—”
A hand fell on her shoulder, ending her prayer with a gasp.
Camellia looked back over her shoulder and saw Thad standing behind her. She bent her body further, trying to protect Jonah from him. “Go away. I’ll take care of this man.”
“I know who he is, Camellia.” Thad’s hand squeezed her shoulder before letting go. “He was here before the blast. He came to rescue you.”
More tears threatened. Jonah was hurt because of her? After what she’d said to him? The clinical part of her mind protected her from the deepening pain. “Would you get some candles? I need to see how badly he’s hurt.”
Thad nodded and clomped down the stairs.
As soon as Thad reached the first floor, the man in her lap stirred. “Jonah? Do you hurt anywhere?”
He grinned up at her. “I’ve felt better, but being this close to you almost makes the pain worth it.”
Anger replaced her fear. Camellia pushed him out of her lap. “You’re not hurt at all. Have you been conscious the whole time?”
“Ow!” He rubbed the back of his head.
“How much did you hear?” She stood and brushed the dirt off her dress.
Jonah scrambled to his feet. He put a hand under her chin. “Enough to know that you’re leaving Vicksburg with me tonight.”
A part of Camellia wanted to push his hand away, but she was caught by the look in his eyes. “I am?”
“Yes, you are.” Thad had come back upstairs more quietly than he’d departed. “Both of us heard you, Camellia. I know now why you turned down my offer.”
She finally found the strength to push Jonah’s hand away. “I’m sorry, Thad.”
“Don’t be.” He sighed. “I think I realized the truth when I first saw Jonah here. I was so angry. I wanted him to pay for taking you away from me. But then when I came to and heard your voice … I’ll always carry the shame of what I tried to do to him.”
Camellia started to move to him, but Jonah put a hand on her arm. When she looked at him, he shook his head.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Jonah’s voice was gravelly. “I might have done the same thing in your place.”
A slight smile appeared on Thad’s face. “Thank you for that. Do you need help getting out of here?”
Jonah seemed completely recovered as he looked up to judge the amount of light in the sky. “I think we can still make it if we hurry.”
The two men needed to stop talking about her as if she wasn’t even here. “What about my medicine? My clothes?”
Thad and Jonah shared a look. A look that mixed empathy and disdain. Thad turned away, but not before she saw the grin on his face.
“You’ll have to leave all that here.” Jonah put an arm around her waist. “I’ll buy you all the clothes your heart desires, and New Orleans has several apothecary shops, so don’t worry about your medicines. We have to leave right now.”
“I have one more thing to do.” She pulled away from him and walked to where Thad stood.
He turned to face her. “You really do need to leave, you know.”
“Thank you.” She put a hand on his cheek. “I’ll never forget this.”
Thad pressed a quick kiss into her palm. “And I’ll never forget you.” He looked to Jonah. “Take care of her.”
Jonah nodded and held out his hand. “Are you ready?”
Camellia put her hand in his. “Yes.”
They walked hand in hand through the town and passed two sentries, neither of whom questioned their apparent early morning tryst. One of the men even had the temerity to wink at them. Camellia wondered if her cheeks were rosier than the predawn sky.
Jonah leaned over and put his lips on her ear. “Getting out of town is a lot easier than getting in.”
When she was sure they were far enough from the sentries to speak openly, she turned to him. “How did you manage to get in at all?”
“I crawled through a tunnel.” He described his efforts briefly before taking her in his arms.
“I’m so sorry for the things I said to you in Memphis. I understand now why you cannot support the South and what it stands for.” She stared at the gray collar of his Confederate uniform, thankful it was only a costume. “I’ve seen the futility of the fighting—the death and pain men are causing each other. When I thought you were a casualty—” The horror of those moments threatened to overwhelm her again. “You shouldn’t have put yourself at risk for my sake.”
“I would have crawled a dozen miles farther and faced even death itself to rescue you.” He put a finger under her chin and lifted it until their gazes met. “I love you, Camellia Anderson. I love the strong, committed woman of faith and integrity you’ve become.”
“I love you, too, Jonah Thornton. I think I always have.”
When his lips closed over hers, Camellia wondered how and why she’d ever resisted Jonah. He was the perfect hero for her—a gentle man with a heart of gold, a will of iron, and a love for the Lord that would always guide him. She thanked God for keeping him safe and for opening her eyes to the truth so that they could be together—together serving Him in all of their endeavors, no matter what the future held.
Epilogue
Natchez, Mississippi July 1865
Why is the boat rocking so much?” Camellia asked the question over her shoulder, her blue gaze meeting Lily’s in the reflection of the mirror. “We haven’t broken away from the dock, have
we?”
Lily stood in the doorway and watched as Tamar arranged Camellia’s blond curls around her face. She had always been the beauty of the family, but her face glowed with excitement on this, the day of her wedding. “Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s only the guests arriving and moving around in the main parlor.” Perhaps a change of subject would calm the bride’s nerves. “Wasn’t it nice of Jean Luc’s parents to offer their luxury steamship for your wedding? It’s a shame Jean Luc and Anna could not come, but they’ve been busy in Missouri since the baby was born.”
Camellia’s expression bunched. Apparently she would not fall for Lily’s ploy. “What about Mr. and Mrs. Thornton? And Jonah? Is he ready?”
Lily sympathized with the concern she detected in her sister’s voice. She could remember her own wedding day. The fear of the unknown … the concern over the future … wondering if she was making a huge mistake. Of course all of that had disappeared when she saw the look of adoration in Blake’s face as he stood tall and straight in front of the altar. And the same would be true for Camellia.
“Of course he’s ready.” Tamar answered the question for Lily. “Jonah loves you. He loves you the way Blake loves Lily.”
“And the way Jensen loves you, Tamar.” Lily smiled and moved toward the fancy dress suspended from a wooden rod in one corner of the stateroom. The skirt consisted of three deep flounces, each edged with wide lace. A bodice of matching white silk was decorated with floral fasteners and had short, puffed sleeves. Across the bed pillows lay the lace veil that would drift behind Camellia as she floated down the aisle in front of her friends and family. “You’ll be a beautiful bride, dearest.”
Camellia’s expression mellowed, and a dreamy look replaced the concern in her eyes. “I’ve wanted to be married since I was a little girl.”
“I have to admit I once worried you might select a husband for the wrong reasons, but you resisted the temptation to choose status over substance.” Lily turned to the dressing table and reached to give her sister a hug. “Jonah Thornton is a fine Christian man. I know the two of you will keep God at the center of your lives, and He will bless your union.”
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