Camellia (5 page)

“I know. Most uniforms are closer to this color.” Aunt Dahlia picked up the gray swatch and held it in her hand while pointing to the square still resting on the bolt of gold material. “But what if your escort were to show up in that one?”

Camellia nodded and turned back to the table of displayed silks. She spotted another beautiful color, a bright cerulean-blue length of watered silk. “What about this one?” Her gaze met that of her aunt’s, and both of them smiled at the same time.

“It’s perfect. I only wish I were going to be there to see you when you enter the room on your handsome escort’s arm.” Aunt Dahlia walked to the table whose surface was covered with the latest dress patterns from Europe.

Following her to the table, Camellia sighed. “If only you could talk Uncle Phillip into moving to New Orleans.”

“You’re sweet, child. I know I shouldn’t say it, but of all my nieces, you are the one who is dearest to my heart.”

Camellia’s lips turned up in a small smile. “I love you, too, Aunt Dahlia. I’ll miss spending time with you, Uncle Phillip, and Grandmother, but we’ve talked about this. You know why I’m going.”

Aunt Dahlia patted her hand. “You need some separation from your less … traditional relatives. I still find it hard to believe your sister has embraced Henrick so readily after the man all but abandoned the three of you.”

Camellia glanced down at her shoes. She didn’t want to point out that it was Grandfather’s edict that had caused her father to disappear from their lives for so many years. She didn’t want to defend the man at all.

“Don’t worry.” Aunt Dahlia had continued talking, unaware of her niece’s inner turmoil. “I’ll be busy looking for the perfect candidate to be your spouse while you’re in New Orleans getting that extra bit of polish.”

Thinking of the candidate her aunt and uncle had chosen for her older sister, Camellia shuddered. It was the reason Lily had purchased a steamboat and taken all three of them to live on the river. “I don’t want you to try matching me to anyone like the old man you thought Lily should marry.”

“Of course not.” Aunt Dahlia’s calculating gaze swept her from head to toe. “You are a very different girl than your sister—a beautiful gentlewoman. The man I choose for you will be of a completely different caliber. Lily, on the other hand, could have done much worse than to marry Adolphus.”

Camellia remembered his atrocious sons and wondered.

Aunt Dahlia tittered and leaned closer. “As a matter of fact, she did do much worse.” She glanced over her shoulder before continuing in a soft whisper. “You don’t have to worry about him at all. It seems the Johnsons’ oldest girl, Grace, has removed Adolphus from consideration. I have it on the best authority that they will announce their nuptials before the end of the year. I’m sure they’ll host a party. Maybe we can attend it together before your departure.”

“I don’t think Lily will agree.” Her fingers traced the outline of the topmost dress pattern lying on the counter. “She wants me to travel to Memphis with her before I start school.”

“That’s terrible.” Aunt Dahlia shook her head and clucked her tongue. “Will she never stop interfering in your future?”

“I know, but it was the only way I could get her to agree to let me remain in New Orleans.” Camellia’s fingers drifted over the bolt of blue silk as she imagined the upcoming term. She would outshine every other girl at La Belle Demoiselle in a dress like this one. “At least it’s only for a week, and then I’ll be free to pursue my dreams.”

The shop’s owner returned to them then, and they began to discuss her new wardrobe. Camellia’s head spun with plans and dreams as they picked and chose from the designs available. She felt like one of the princesses in Jasmine’s dramas. And she would be … once she got to New Orleans.

L
ily was glad to be back on the river, even on a dreary day like this one. Winter had settled on them as they celebrated a subdued Christmas and ushered in the new year. The crisp morning air energized her as she watched the brown bank sliding past them.

A modest frame house perched on the western side of the river caught her eye. It amazed her how much the river had changed in the years since she’d first traveled its length as a young girl with her parents. Houses like the one they were passing dotted the landscape in ever-increasing numbers. She smiled and waved at a boy and girl who stood watching from the front porch.
Lord, please bless us with children of our own.

A picture of the family’s dinner table formed in her mind, the boy on one side of the table, his sister on the other. Their parents would be situated at either end. She could imagine them joining their hands as the father asked God to bless their meal. Then they would laugh and recount the day’s adventures, perhaps even mentioning seeing
Water Lily
steam northward on the Mississippi River.

“You look awfully pensive on such a fine morning.”

Lily jumped at the unexpected sound of her husband’s voice. “Where did you come from?” She took a moment to study his masculine good looks. It never ceased to amaze her that such a wondrously handsome man had fallen in love with her, plain as she was. He could have turned the head of any female along the wide river, but he had chosen her to become his bride.

“I saw my beautiful wife standing out here all alone and came to see what might be on her mind.” Blake pulled her into his arms and planted a warm kiss on her lips.

Lily melted against him as always, lost in the tender devotion he lavished on her. He was the best husband anyone could hope for—a man who sought God earnestly and worked hard to follow His leading. When they first met, he had not been as admirable in his outlook, but God had worked a miraculous change in Blake. He had taken a hardened gambler, a man who thought he didn’t need anyone, and changed him into a thoughtful, kind, and generous disciple. Blake was always ready to tell anyone they met about Christ’s death and resurrection and the difference His sacrifice made in the lives of all who accepted His free gift.

When he finally released her, Lily’s cheeks burned in the cool air. “I love you.”

“Of course you do.” His eyes, bluer than the sky on a cloudless day, teased her. He wrapped her in his arms once more, this time resting his chin on her head. “I love you, too … more than I could ever have imagined.”

A sigh of pure bliss filled Lily’s lungs. She closed her eyes and thanked God for blessing her beyond anything she’d ever dreamed might be possible.

Their embrace lasted for several minutes before the long whistle of an approaching steamer separated them. Blake leaned against the rail, and she raised a hand to shade her eyes as the vessel drew nearer.

It had once been a merchant steamship much like the
Water Lily
, but unlike their boat, this one had become a warship. Steel plates covered the lower decks, featureless except for the cannons protruding from narrow openings along the side. Even the pilothouse and the great paddle wheel at the end of the boat were covered with shielding. The twin smokestacks belched black smoke, and cinders fell on the gray-suited soldiers who sat, walked, or lounged on the upper deck, their weapons close at hand.

Lily waved, even though her heart was heavy at this reminder of the terrible struggle that had been going on for nearly a full year. A few of them saluted or waved, but most of the group ignored her gesture.

She and Blake watched the boat until it disappeared around a bend in the river. “Where do you think they’re going?”

Blake shrugged. “To defend one of the southern ports, I imagine.”

“I’m so worried about letting Camellia attend school in New Orleans. I hate the idea of being unable to reach her.”

The color of Blake’s eyes seemed to change as a cloud briefly obscured the sun. “You’ve done everything you can to convince her, but your sister has her heart set on going to La Belle. If you don’t let her have her way in this, she may strike out on her own.” His lips curled in a quick smile. “She is an Anderson, after all.”

Lily couldn’t help the laughter that broke past her lips in response to her husband’s not-so-subtle reminder of her own stubbornness. “But that was different. My aunt and uncle were trying to force me—”

“Trying to get you to do what they thought was in your best interest.”

Her chin lifted. “I’m not trying to push Camellia into a loveless marriage.”

“I know that, Lily. But you’re the one who told me how adamant your sister is about going to that finishing school.” He shrugged. “I don’t see much wrong with letting her live in New Orleans. We have friends who will watch out for her safety, and if it becomes dangerous, we’ll have the opportunity to rescue her and bring her safely back to Les Fleurs. Or keep her aboard with us if you want.”

He was right. She knew he was right. But still she worried.

Blake dropped a reassuring kiss on her forehead. “Where is Camellia, anyway? I thought you wanted to spend all of your leisure time with her on this voyage since it will probably be the last one we manage before school begins.”

“I sent her up to visit Papa.” Lily glanced at the staircase behind his right shoulder. “She still seems so stilted and formal around him. I don’t understand why. Camellia couldn’t have felt the same way I did when I thought Papa had abandoned us. She seemed to get along well with him before she knew his real identity, and I would like to see them work out their differences before she goes away, before her heart hardens so much that—”

Blake’s face, so warm and caring before her answer, hardened into a cold mask.

Remorse washed through her. “I’m sorry, Blake…. I didn’t mean…. I wasn’t trying to—”

He put a finger over her lips, silencing her apology. “It’s okay, Lily. I suppose what I’m feeling is more guilt than anything else. Besides, we’ve had a similar discussion before when I was trying to get you to be more accepting of Henrick. I know I need to make peace with my own father.”

Lily wanted to put her arms around Blake. She wanted to comfort him, tell him that she would always be there for him no matter what he decided to do about his relationship with his father. But she held her tongue and waited for him to finish. Her patience was rewarded after a long minute ticked by.

Blake sighed. “I just don’t know if I’m ready to take that step yet. You cannot know what it was like—”

Unable to keep silent any longer, Lily interrupted him. “But I know what you’re like, Blake. I’ve seen you grow closer to the Lord since we’ve been together. I love the time we spend together in devotion and prayer.” She hesitated for a moment, trying to pick her words with care.

Blake smiled, but his eyes were filled with uncertainty. “But …?”

Lily didn’t want to cause Blake unnecessary pain, yet she owed him her honest opinion. “I can sense a hard place inside of you, a place you don’t want to let Him touch. Maybe it’s because I once harbored the same feelings toward my father that I recognize them in you.” She put a hand on his arm, feeling the hard coil of his muscles under her fingers. “If you don’t release the anger, it will consume you. I’m afraid it will make you someone different from the man I know and love. I don’t want to see that happen to you … to us.”

His head dropped toward his chest. “I know you’re right, but it’s not easy. I understand with my mind that I have to forgive my father, but I don’t feel the truth of it in my heart. I’ve been praying about my father. So far, God has been silent on the subject. Maybe when things settle down some …”

Lily stood on her tiptoes and placed a whisper-light kiss on his cheek. “I love you, dearest, but you cannot continue to put this off. It’s weighing on you too heavily.”

“You’re right, and I want to.” His large, warm hand cupped her chin. “I have an idea.”

She placed her hand over his and met his gaze, trying to encourage him. She loved him so much she felt her heart would burst, and she wanted him to see what was in her heart. “What is that?”

“Why don’t you pray for God to show both of us the right time and the right way to deal with my father?”

Lily nodded. As long as both of them leaned on His strength, they would weather any storm. That knowledge also brought her a measure of peace regarding Camellia. The Lord would watch over all of them—whether they were in the same town or not.

Camellia reached for another of the plates Tamar had scrubbed clean. “If I never had to spend another night on a steamboat, my life would be perfect.”

“Don’t you say such things.” Tamar frowned at her as she continued her task. “This is your sister’s chosen home.”

“She can come and visit me once I get married.” Camellia grimaced at the thought of her family creating a rumpus in her spotless, well-ordered plantation home. Papa’s tall tales, Jasmine’s dramatic posturing, and Lily’s stubbornness would put an end to harmony. It would be a wonder if Camellia’s husband didn’t forbid their return after a single day in company with her family. “But only if she brings Aunt Dahlia and Uncle Phillip along as well.”

The choked sound from the woman standing beside her made Camellia smile. Both of them knew the likelihood of Lily and Aunt Dahlia traveling together. The probability that at least one of them would expire during the journey—and not from natural causes—was extremely high.