Camellia (13 page)

Jonah could not keep silent any longer. “The newspapers don’t seem to share your optimism. I read again this morning that many experts think General Grant will come knocking on our doorsteps at any moment.”

Sarah, always eager to avoid family strife, frowned a warning at him.

But Jonah didn’t care. They all needed to face the truth. The South was not on the winning side. It was only a matter of time. Lincoln was not going to let this country be split apart. He would keep fighting for however long it took to preserve the Union.

Instead of arguing with Jonah as expected, his father turned back to Thad. “It’s true that New Orleans is very vulnerable to attack. Every time I turn around, more of our local boys are being pulled away to defend some backwoods town in Georgia or South Carolina. Abraham Lincoln has been very vocal about his plans to control the Mississippi River. Our trade with Europe is the lifeblood of the South. If we lose the river, I’m afraid we’ll lose the war.”

Thad’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, sir, you are right. I’m not at liberty to say much, but I can assure you steps are being taken. New Orleans has not been forgotten.”

“I hope you’re right, young man.” Jonah’s father sighed. “But however this war turns out, I want you to know how proud I am of your service. I wish I could join you out on the battlefield myself, but I’m too old.”

“You look like you’re in your prime to me, sir.”

Jonah wanted to groan aloud. Would his father fall for such blatant flattery? From the pleased look on his face, apparently he would. Right now he was probably wishing Thad was his son. But Jonah could not let that disturb him. He had prayed for wisdom before he made his decision about which side to join. He had to keep faith that God would continue to lead him.

A wisp of an idea slipped through Jonah’s roiling thoughts. Thad knew things, things that could be useful to Jonah’s superiors. Of all Jonah’s acquaintances, none remained here who were officers in the Confederate army. He needed to use this one connection to full advantage, no matter what it cost him personally.

Jonah’s mother picked up a spoon and tapped it against the rim of her plate. “That’s enough talk of war and fighting. We will learn of the girls’ activities at their school. Jane, why don’t you tell us what you are studying.”

She looked as frightened as the soldier Thad had told them about, surrounded by the enemy. “I … um … we’ve worked on our musical skills.”

“That sounds wonderful. Do you play the piano?”

Jane shook her head, her auburn hair gleaming in the light of the candelabra that hung above the dining table.

“Don’t be so modest.” Camellia leaned forward, looking past Jonah. “Jane is an accomplished harpist, and she sings like an angel.”

Jonah could hear the affection in her voice as she praised her friend. He found that commendable. Of course, she knew she didn’t have to compete with Jane for the captain’s attention. In his experience, young ladies could be quite ruthless in disparaging each other as they pursued the attentions of prospective suitors. Camellia might not be as generous with her praise if the captain and Jane were not brother and sister.

Sarah smiled at the blushing Jane. “You’ll have to sing for us later this evening, Miss Watkins. I would be most happy to accompany you on my parents’ piano.”

Jane reached for her water and took a healthy gulp.

“Their graduation will be a formal ball.” Captain Watkins’s statement drew everyone’s attention away from Jane.

A rising tide of irritation made Jonah want to growl. Did he have to look at Camellia with such longing?

“Miss Anderson has agreed to let me be her escort.” His smug voice taunted Jonah.

Would this meal never end? Barred from reintroducing a military topic by his mother’s earlier comment, all Jonah could do was think about the captain dancing with Camellia, holding her close. He shook his head to clear it of the vision. He would have to find a reason to attend their ball … so he could learn more from Thad, of course.

Jonah listened to the conversation flowing around him. Sarah offered to take the girls shopping for a special outfit. He expected Miss Fashion Plate to jump at the chance, but she didn’t. Jane explained why when she told them about the dress Camellia had brought with her from Natchez. The ladies discussed fabrics and colors, cooing over matching ribbons and lace and all manner of folderol. How long could they continue to talk about clothes? Even his surgeon brother-in-law looked like he was about to fall asleep.

Finally his mother took pity on the men by announcing it was time for the ladies to retire. After they left the dining room, Thad and Father returned to their discussion of the war. Jonah listened carefully but discovered nothing new.

Jonah excused himself and went to his flat. Of course sleep eluded him. Until Jonah thought to get out his Bible. Opening it to the Old Testament, he read about the trials of Joseph. At least Jonah had not been sold into slavery by his siblings. Yet Joseph had never given up his faith. And God had rewarded him and, through him, his people.

Slipping back into his bed, Jonah prayed for patience and faith like Joseph’s. His anxiety lessened, and his eyes drifted shut. God would help him see the way.

C
amellia checked her appearance in the mirror. A row of tiny buttons on the front of her dress were covered in matching crimson material. She loved the tiny lines of gold that lent a striped appearance to the fabric. The sleeves, daringly simple and straight, were adorned with a single ruched band before ending halfway between her elbow and wrist. But the neckline was too plain. Draping a white scarf across the bodice, she turned to ask Jane’s opinion of her embellishment, surprised by the worried frown on her friend’s face. “Don’t be anxious. The Thorntons’ church has so many nice people. They’ve always welcomed me and my sisters.”

Jane hid a yawn behind her hand. “I hope I don’t fall asleep during the sermon.”

“I promise to pinch you before you begin snoring.”

“I don’t snore.” Jane pointed a finger at her. “You are a different matter, however. Your snoring would put a locomotive to shame.”

Camellia shook her head. “That wasn’t me. It was you.”

They continued to banter as they headed downstairs to meet the others. Sarah and Dr. Cartier had returned home, of course, and would meet them at the church. But Camellia was surprised to see only Mrs. Thornton and Jonah awaiting them in the foyer. Mrs. Thornton was already wearing a dark cloak that hid the color and cut of her dress. Jonah wore a bottle-green coat that stretched across his broad shoulders. An embroidered waistcoat and striped trousers completed his outfit, marking him as a gentleman of fashion.

Dragging her gaze away from his compelling features, she looked around the foyer. “Where is Mr. Thornton?”

Mrs. Thornton shook her head. “He’s stopped attending services for now.”

Jonah held Jane’s cape for her, taking his sweet time with her friend. Determined to show she didn’t need anyone’s help, Camellia managed to get the heavy material of her own cloak across her shoulders without twisting her arms completely off.

“The pastor dared to express his support for abolition from the pulpit.” Jonah’s voice was as sour as ever. Did he always have to be so sarcastic?

Jane fastened the button at the top of her cloak and sent a grateful look in his direction. “Our pastor in the Garden District has not addressed that subject at all.”

“Pastor Nolan is a good shepherd for our little flock.” Mrs. Thornton pulled on her gloves. “He is a man of conscience, and his spiritual message is always applicable to our lives, even if we disagree with his political views. Coming together with other Christians is a directive from the New Testament that I will not ignore. Especially during these troubled times. I don’t know how people survive when they do not have the support of a church to sustain them.”

Camellia nodded. “We attend a church just around the corner from La Belle Demoiselle, even when the weather is inclement. You should see all of us following behind Mrs. Dabbs and Mademoiselle Laurent.”

“Like a colorful line of ducklings?” Jonah’s half smile had returned. “I’m certain you turn all the heads in your neighborhood.”

She was not going to let him rile her this morning. Let him poke fun all he wanted. This was Sunday, and she was determined to be more circumspect. Didn’t the Bible say something about heaping coals on someone’s head? “I hadn’t thought of it in exactly that way, but you’re right, Jonah.”

The surprise on his face at her agreement was delicious. A victory over the supercilious man at last. Squelching her glee, as it might not be considered very Christian, Camellia sailed through the door he opened and into the bright spring sunlight.

Their path to the church roughly paralleled the crescent path of the river, taking them past several shuttered homes. New Orleans had changed since Louisiana had seceded from the Union. Men had volunteered to fight, and their wives and children had fled to the safety of extended families. Those with Northern roots escaped the South rather than swear fealty to the Confederacy, leaving behind the lives they had established during the lucrative heyday of international shipping and trade. The weed-choked lawns made Camellia wonder if anything would ever be the same again. Would the residents return once the war ended? Or would those who survived remain in the new lives they had crafted? Who would one day live in these abandoned homes?

When they arrived, the pastor and his wife were standing at the front door of the whitewashed building. After brief introductions, they moved inside.

Even the church seemed subdued. The majority of those in attendance were ladies and children. Camellia wondered if that was because the men had volunteered to fight or if they, like Mr. Thornton, refused to attend.

Mrs. Thornton led the way to a vacant pew near the front, crimping her skirts to navigate the narrow space.

Camellia had meant to sit between Mrs. Thornton and Jane but somehow ended up behind her friend, meaning she would be trapped between Jane and Jonah. She wondered if she could manage to ignore him the whole time. It shouldn’t be too hard. Straightening her spine, she folded her gloved hands in her lap. Presenting an attitude of humility was always appropriate in church.

“ ‘Thou wilt shew me the path of life: in thy presence is fulness of joy; at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore.’ ” The words thundered out of the pastor’s mouth, making Camellia forget all about the man sitting next to her. The reverend’s gaze lifted from the Bible he held in his right hand, and he studied the congregation. “I don’t know about the rest of you who are in attendance today, but I am spending hours on my knees praying for America’s future.”

A shifting among the pews signaled discomfort from at least some of the people. Or was that the Holy Spirit? Camellia held herself very still. If God was here with them, she didn’t want Him thinking she wasn’t listening.

“If we don’t pay attention to God’s Word, this country is doomed.”

“Amen!” A male voice from somewhere behind them startled Jane.

A nervous giggle formed in Camellia’s chest. She tamped it down and managed to resist the temptation of glancing at her friend, unsure if she could maintain proper decorum otherwise.

“Last night as I studied my Bible for the right message to bring to you, I was drawn to the middle of my Bible.” The pastor reclaimed her attention. “I read this verse, and it got me to thinking about paths and the nature of the steps we take. Then I turned to Proverbs, the book of good advice we should all read at least once a month.”

Camellia twisted her gloved fingers together, concentrating on the smooth feel of the silky material in the palm of her hand. The leather corner of a Bible appeared within her field of vision. Jonah’s Bible. Curiosity turned her gaze toward the words his finger was underlining as the pastor read the verse.

“ ‘There is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death.’ ”

She shuddered. Some parts of the Bible didn’t appeal to her at all. Why did God have to go to all the trouble of making the way to Him so difficult? Why couldn’t He make things simple? If she was running the world, things would be different. Her cheeks heated at the errant thoughts. Should she apologize to God? Was He listening that closely to her thoughts? Would He smite her where she sat?

A breathless moment of fear made her freeze again. Nothing happened, and she relaxed.

Jonah closed his Bible, his fingers stroking the worn leather cover. The book was old, worn, well used.

It sparked a new thought in her mind. Was the Bible outdated? Was it too old? They lived in a modern world, a world that would confuse the people in the Bible. She sat straighter. Maybe that was it. Maybe the Bible wasn’t relevant anymore. Maybe God had instituted a new system.

The pastor had been droning on for a while now, talking about how they were all going to end in destruction. He’d probably start talking about weeping and teeth gnashing in a minute. She should have stayed at the town house with Mr. Thornton. She could understand why he refused to come.

Her head drooped lower as she studied a line of tiny stitches. It was a good thing she didn’t have to make her own dresses. She caught the giggle before it escaped, but a hiccup managed to break free.

Jane elbowed her. “What are you doing?”

Jonah turned his head and looked at them, his frown stopping her answer.

Camellia pouted at him and pulled on the cuff of her glove. He didn’t have to be so sanctimonious. She’d like to run his world for a little while. Send him racing down a path that no one else was on. Or was that what God had already done to him?

Her eyes narrowed, but before she could continue the thought, the pastor asked for everyone to bow their heads. After he prayed for a little while, his words running together in her mind, the pastor ended the prayer. Then it was over.

They gathered their things and began to file out of the church. Jonah offered his arm to his mother.

Jane touched Camellia’s arm as they moved to follow. “Tell me what you were doing during the service.”