Camellia (44 page)

“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 been 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.

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?”

“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?