Camellia (25 page)

Maybe what this mother was saying to her child was wrong. Camellia was beginning to wonder if it took a dozen Confederates to overcome one Yankee. And if that was the way of it, they would all be Yankees before long.

“Natchez has fallen.” Thad crumpled the newspaper between his hands and threw it into the fireplace. “I cannot believe they didn’t fight. Why have the cannons on the bluff if they are not going to use them?”

Camellia’s stomach knotted. She felt as though they were running across a bridge that was disintegrating immediately behind them. If Natchez had fallen, would Vicksburg be next? She looked at Jane and her mother and saw the same fear mirrored on their faces.

“I must go on to Memphis immediately.” Thad’s announcement made all three of the women gasp. “The Confederacy needs every able-bodied man now.”

“But what will happen to us?” His mother rose and moved across the room to stare out the window of her home.

Camellia knew she was not really looking at the rolling hills outside or the well-tended grounds surrounding her plantation. The faint movement of the older woman’s shoulders indicated that she was choking back tears.

Jane got up and went to her, putting an arm around her mother’s tiny waist. “It’s going to be all right, Mama. I’m here now. You won’t be alone.”

“No.” Mrs. Watkins broke away from her daughter and turned from the window. She faced her son with a determined look. “You must take Jane and Camellia with you.”

Thad frowned. “Impossible. I won’t be able to protect them once I have rejoined my regiment.”

“The danger from the encroaching navy is greater. If they continue to advance this quickly, it won’t be long before they are knocking on my door.”

Camellia considered their options. There must be some place they could go. Would Lily and Blake come to Vicksburg to rescue them as they had in New Orleans? It might be better to wait here and see. Thinking of her sister put her in mind of stops they had made in the past. “I have it.”

All three of the Watkinses turned to her.

“Mr. and Mrs. Thornton have a son in Memphis. Eli and his wife, Renée, will take us in. Surely we’ll be safe with them.” She turned to Mrs. Watkins. “You can go with us, too.”

Mrs. Watkins’s lips turned up, but sadness filled her eyes. “I cannot leave my home.”

“Mama, you can’t stay here alo—” A catch in Jane’s voice stopped her for a moment. She gulped and raised her chin before continuing. “It won’t be safe for you if the Yankees really do come.”

“Don’t worry about me. Your father will have returned from Barbados before long. I am determined that he will have a home to return to.” Mrs. Watkins took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll keep everything running here.”

“Then I won’t leave you behind.” Jane was a younger version of her mother’s determination.

Camellia could feel pride and admiration filling her. The women of the Confederacy were as strong in their way as their husbands and sons.

“Don’t be silly.” Mrs. Watkins summoned a frown for her daughter. “I can manage here until your father returns, and I will sleep much better knowing you and Camellia are safe.”

“I think Mama is right.” Thad nodded. “You and Camellia can come with me to Memphis. I’ll make sure you are safe with Camellia’s friends. Once the South has retaken Natchez, Baton Rouge, and New Orleans, you can return. I’m certain it will only be a matter of days or weeks before things return to normal. As soon as our troops arrive from Virginia, we’ll push those Yankees out of our waterways and restore order.”

Camellia smiled in his direction. As long as men like Thad were in charge, she could rest easy. The South would overcome even these dark days. “I’ll write a message to my family in Natchez. I don’t know if packets will be allowed back into the city, but in case they are, I would like them to know where they can find me.”

Mrs. Watkins smiled in her direction. “They will appreciate any news. I know how much I awaited letters from Jane and Thad when we were apart.”

Jane sighed. “I can’t believe we need to pack our belongings so soon.”

“Limit yourselves to one trunk each.” Thad raised his eyebrows toward his sister.

Camellia’s mind flew back in time. Her cheeks burned at the memory of Jonah’s incredulous voice as he surveyed the mountain of luggage she’d packed for the weekend with his parents. What innocent days those seemed in retrospect, when all she had to worry about was fashion and etiquette.

Well, she knew better now. A lady might desire all the comforts of home when traveling, but as long as she had a few basic necessities, she could get by. Camellia wondered what new lessons she would learn as the war dragged on. And what her life would look like once the fighting finally ended. Would she find herself married to Thad or someone like him? Or would she remain single, becoming a burden to her family as her beauty faded?

Everything seemed to be careening out of control. As she prepared to flee once more, Camellia found herself wishing for stability and some measure of normalcy. She wished to return to the past. She even wished for the days she’d spent with her sisters aboard Lily’s boat.

Given her disdain for life on the river, she could imagine the shock her sisters would exhibit if they had any inkling of her thoughts. But that did not protect her from the yearning inside her, a yearning for something she would probably never again enjoy.

J
onah’s heart thudded in his chest as he made out the shape of four, no, five Union ironclads. Their armored plates and bristling gun ports became more distinct as the sky lightened. He prayed the Confederate officers would realize the overwhelming odds against them and surrender. If they did not, the South would lose many brave men in the ensuing battle. And he might be one of them since his officers had once again sent him into enemy territory as a spy. That was how he found himself on this Confederate ship, locked in a fierce battle near Memphis.

The eastern horizon glowed pink as the sun began to rise, but before it could make its appearance, the boom of a cannon drew his attention. A deadly whistle accompanied it as the missile passed over their heads and crashed into the bank behind their cotton-clad ram.

Jonah prayed for God’s protection. It was the only thing that would keep them alive on their outgunned, out-armored boat.

“Man your stations.” The command from above sent him and the other sailors running.

Another explosion rent the air. Another missile whistled past them. But when it splashed into the water, Jonah could tell it was closer than the first shot. The Yankees were closing in. They would sink this ship in a matter of minutes.

“Cannoners post!” At least he wasn’t part of the seven-man team who would have to man the cannons on either end of the ship. “Solid shot load!”

The deck shuddered under Jonah’s feet as twin explosions announced their intention to fight. The sky above was filled with smoke so dense and gray he could no longer tell the time of day.

Jonah wondered if he should jump overboard and take his chances in the strong currents of the river. Or should he remain aboard and try to convince the commander to surrender? The side of the Union ironclad expanded, growing larger and larger until he could see nothing but its dark hull in front and above them. Too late. He was too late to do any good at all.

“Brace for impact,” the Confederate officer warned the crew.

Jonah slung his rifle over one shoulder and wrapped his arms around the tall mast at the stern. He closed his eyes and prayed, the words lost in the sounds of battle raging around him. Then it happened. As their prow rammed into the side of the ironclad, a cannon found them. It slammed through the tall stacks of cotton and pierced the deck with devastating results.

Water gushed upward in a dirty fountain as it mixed with coal, splintered wood, and blood. Jonah tried to hold on to the mast, but he was thrown away from it like a droplet of water shaken from a dog’s back. He scrambled for another purchase as he slid headfirst toward the edge of the steamship. In the last possible instant, his questing fingers latched onto something. What they found was not important. What mattered was that he had not plunged into the muddy water between the two ships. That way was certain death.

Another barrage of cannon fire warned him the danger was not past. Screams of fear and pain were punctuated by the endless booms of the cannons. He managed to drag himself to his knees and look around. The deck was on fire, and he saw several men lowering buckets to the river. The attempt to stop the deadly flames was doomed. The ship was sinking faster than he would have thought possible. He had failed, completely and utterly. He would not be able to save a single life.

Explosions rocked the water around them, but at least the ironclad had drawn back some. It gave the sailors a better chance to escape in the river without being caught up in the churning water of the paddle wheels or rammed by the heavy hulls. As he crossed to the starboard side of the boat, a groan stopped him.

Jonah glanced around, his eyes streaming from the thick smoke enveloping the ship. At first he saw nothing, but then the groan came again, and he saw a slight movement to his right. A young man, a boy really, lay on the deck, his legs pinned beneath the heavy mast that must have broken during the battle. Jonah fell to his knees to assess the situation.

“I think my leg’s broke.” The boy coughed. “I don’t wanta die.”

“You’re not going to die.” Jonah made the promise even though he had no idea how to keep it. He glanced around them, looking for something to use as a lever. Several men staggered past them, but no one stopped. Each was fighting to save his life, climbing to the far side of the boat as it listed at an ever-steeper angle.

Remembering the rifle on his back, Jonah pulled it forward and wedged it under the mast. Pushing with all of his strength, he managed to move it an inch. “Can you move?”

The boy stopped moaning and pushed up onto his elbows. He managed to move a few inches. The battle faded around them as hope shone on his face. After a few minutes of sweating and grunting, he pulled free.

Jonah released his hold on the mast with relief. Placing an arm around the boy, he helped him stand. “Is it broken?”

The boy shook his head.

“Praise God.”

They limped together to the edge. The black water of the river was full—bobbing heads, debris, oil. Jonah took a deep breath, pushed the boy, and jumped. Water closed around his head, and the whine of bullets whizzed past him. Fear pushed him forward. Something slammed against his legs, catching him and trying to drag him under. Then another obstacle hit his shoulders, his chest, his head. Jonah couldn’t tell any longer which direction he should be swimming. His lungs ached to breathe. It was done. Fear was replaced by sadness that he had failed to do so many things.

“Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.”
The promise brought peace and acceptance to Jonah as he lost consciousness.

Camellia thought Thad was as handsome in regular clothes as when he donned his uniform. But on this voyage, he was in disguise. If the packet they were traveling on was stopped by Union forces, he would appear to be nothing more than an escort for his sister and her. Of course anyone searching his bags would know better, but that was a remote possibility since this portion of the river was still controlled by the Confederacy.

She watched the way he sipped coffee from a china cup. His exceptional manners were apparent even in this prosaic setting. Their breakfast came without frills—black coffee, dry biscuits, and a piece of jerked pork that Camellia had no intention of touching. She crumbled the edge of her cold biscuit with a thumb and finger. “When should we arrive in Memphis?”

“Later than I had hoped.” He set down his cup and smiled in her direction. “The captain delayed our departure because of a rumor that the Union navy is headed this way.”

Jane pushed her plate to one side, apparently as unimpressed as Camellia with the plain fare. “I hope we have not made a mistake to leave Mama alone in Vicksburg.”

“I worry about her, too.” Thad’s brows lowered. “But she was quite insistent.”