The Color Of The Soul (The Penbrook Diaries) (11 page)

I’m afraid Miss Maddy will not be with us much
longer. Her strange illness has taken all of her strength and she has lost
vision in her right eye. I remain at Penbrook only because she needs me.
Camilla is useless, and old Mrs. Penbrook has left us and returned to her
childhood home to live with a spinster sister in Louisiana.

She took Naomi with her. My mother hugged me and cried
as though she will never see me again. I try to find it in my heart to miss
her. But I spent so many years away from her that I hardly think of her as my
mother at all. Maddy has always been more so to me.

That is why I can hardly bear to see Miss Maddy so
ill. If not for her illness I would take my son and travel north, even if I had
to walk every step of the way. But I cannot leave her now. Not while she lives.

Chapter Six

Summer 1864

From sunup until sundown the work was endless. The day
had barely begun, and already exhaustion weakened Cat’s legs, making the walk
up the long staircase tortuously slow. She entered Miss Maddy’s room carrying a
basin of water and a fresh cloth.

“Is that you, Cat?” Miss Maddy’s feeble voice barely
carried across the length of the room.

She made her way quickly to the bedside. “I’m here,
ma’am.” Setting the bowl of water on the nightstand, she dipped the cloth and
squeezed out the excess liquid. “How are you feeling?”

Maddy seemed to relax as Cat wiped the cloth across
her forehead. “Not quite as bad today. The cool cloth helps. Thank you.”

A sense of helplessness crept through Cat.
A familiar enemy.
If only there were some way she could help
relieve the pain. Cat would give almost anything to see Miss Maddy well again.
But there was no doctor for miles.
Perhaps in Atlanta.
But Cat knew even if she walked the entire twenty miles, the chances of
convincing a doctor to leave the wounded soldiers to attend one woman were
pretty slim.

A moan brought her back to the present. “What is it?
Can I do something?”

Miss Maddy shook her head. “It won’t be long now. I
can feel it.”

Fear shot through Cat at the very sound of the words.
“Don’t say it. I won’t believe it.”

“Oh, Cat. You must know it’s true. My eyesight is
gone. The shape of my head has changed. I can feel the deformity, so I know you
must be able to see it.”

She was right. Miss Maddy’s forehead was almost
grotesque in appearance. But Cat refused to acknowledge the statement. She
couldn’t bear the thought of telling the once-beautiful woman that she was
beautiful no more.

“Henry Jr. recognized some letters today.” She kept
her tone light and airy, knowing Miss
Maddy
loved to
hear about Henry Jr.

A pleased smile lifted Miss Maddy’s pale, chapped
lips. “Already? I’ve never heard of a two-year-old with such intelligence. He
must take after you, Cat. You always were so bright.”

Pain twisted Cat’s heart. She dipped the cloth into
the basin again and squeezed out the excess water. “Please. We agreed never to
speak of little Henry as my child.” She folded the cloth and laid it across
Miss Maddy’s forehead.

Maddy reached up weakly and pressed at the cloth as
though trying to enhance its soothing affects. “Oh, what does it matter
anymore? Really. The money from Penbrook estate is all gone. Henry Jr. won’t
inherit much anyway. Even if his father does make it back from the war.”

Cat pushed back the shuddering though. She prayed
every night that Henry would die in battle or from any one of the horrific
diseases of which they’d heard rumors. “Don’t you see, Miss Maddy?” Cat sat
next to her, folding her hands in her lap. “It’s not about money. It’s about
this land. I’ll make sure he has something worth inheriting.”

“What do you mean you’ll make sure?” Camilla’s haughty
voice raked through the room as she entered, grating on Cat’s already taut
nerves. “What have you to do with any of it?”

“Camilla, please,” Miss Maddy pleaded. “Don’t start an
argument.”

“I’m sorry, Mama. But really, who does she think she
is?”

“Come here and sit with me.” She held her hand in the
direction of the doorway, where Camilla still stood.

Cat rose to leave. “I’ll be back in a little while
with some breakfast for you, ma’am.”

“No, Cat. Stay. I wish to speak with you both.” She
patted the bed on either side of her.

Camilla walked around and sat carefully. “I didn’t
hurt you, did I, Mama?”

Miss Maddy attempted a smile, but weakness caused it
to falter, reducing the effort to little more than a quiver. “No, Sweetheart.
You didn’t hurt me.”

Camilla took her mother’s hand and pressed it against
her own cheek. During times such as this, when Camilla’s eyes clouded with pain
and fear, Cat almost allowed herself a moment of compassion. But her dislike
for the girl was too strong for any other emotion to last for long.

“Cat?” Miss Maddy reached for her. Cat sat on her
other side and took the outstretched hand between hers.

“What do you want to tell us?”

Miss Maddy grimaced.

“I can see you’re in pain, Mama.” Camilla pressed a
kiss to her mother’s palm. “We should let you rest for now. Can’t this little
talk come later?”

“Every minute draws me closer to the end.”

Camilla gasped. “You mustn’t speak that way, Mama.
It’s tempting the fates.”

“We don’t believe in the fates. You know that,
Dear
. We believe in divine destiny. If it is appointed for
me to die at this time, there is nothing I can say or not say to stop it.”

Cat squeezed her hand gently. “What did you want to
tell us, Miss Maddy?”

She gave Cat’s hand a weak squeeze in response. “When
I’m gone, there will only be little Henry and the two of you left at Penbrook.”

Camilla turned and stared wide-eyed at Cat as though
the thought hadn’t occurred to her. Cat had thought of little else. How on
earth could she live in the house with Camilla as mistress?

“We’ll get along fine, Mama. Don’t you worry about
anything.
Just concentrate on getting better.”

“My dear girl, I am not going to get better. We must
speak of this. There will be dark days ahead, whether the war ends soon or not.
The two of you must work together to survive and take care of Henry Jr.” She
turned unseeing eyes to Cat. “I know you’ve tried to keep from me how scarce
provisions are. But I can tell we have very little. I also know we have no
money to replenish.”

“Don’t worry about anything, Miss Maddy. We still have
some canned goods and seed potatoes. We’ll be planting soon. And I’m getting
pretty good with a rifle. I noticed some deer tracks out by the well yesterday.
I’m thinking of going hunting in the morning.
And
with the money we’ve been able to bring in from washing the Yankee soldiers’
laundry, we’re going to be able to buy some cotton seed and plant just as soon
as there are men enough to hire on.”

Cat felt Camilla’s dark gaze on her at the mention of
doing the Yankee laundry. It had been a stroke of luck that Cat had caught the
eye of Captain Stuart Riley, the Yankee soldier who had saved Penbrook from
burning to the ground when the occupiers had come through a few months earlier.
But Camilla hated the sight of the blue uniform with such passion she didn’t
even try to be civil when the captain came to call on Cat. Which he did
often.

Oblivious to the silent exchange, Miss Maddy squeezed
Cat’s hand. “You’re such a good girl. I know you’ll take good care of Camilla
and Henry Jr.”

Cat felt Camilla stiffen. She gave her a sharp look
and shook her head. A scowl marred the other girl’s features, but to her credit
she didn’t voice her opinion of her mother’s statement.

Miss Maddy grimaced and closed her eyes.

Cat motioned to Camilla with her head and slipped her
hands from Miss Maddy’s. “We’ll leave you to get some rest.”

Madeline straightened and clung to Cat. “Wait. Promise
me that you’ll stick together and behave like the sisters I raised you to be.”

Camilla’s face grew red with anger. Her lips pressed
together tightly.

Cat spoke up quickly. “We promise.” She bent forward
and pressed a kiss to Miss Maddy’s cheek. Camilla followed her example. They
tiptoed away. The dying woman was asleep before they reached the door.

In the hallway, Camilla turned on her heel, fire
blazing in her blue eyes. “I will never think of you as a sister.”

A heavy sigh escaped Cat, and she stood unflinching
before the girl’s anger. “Nor will I think of you that way. But it was good of
you to let Miss Maddy have the peace of thinking we will stick together once
she’s gone.”

“I’m not entirely heartless, you know.”

“No, I didn’t. But I’m glad to hear it.” Weary of
Camilla’s presence, Cat turned to go. “I’ll be in the kitchen preparing
breakfast.”

“I’ll have mine in my bedroom.”

“Then you’ll have to come down and get it, because the
only tray I’m carrying up is your mother’s.”

Camilla gave a huff and flounced away.

Cat leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Food
was scarce. The constant ache in the pit of her stomach was becoming more than
she could bear.

Her mind flitted to the line of Yankee soldiers who
had marched into town a few months earlier. Only Madeline’s status as a
Northerner had saved the house from being burned to the ground. Cat knew none
of these diehard Southerners would have anything to do with the soldiers. But
an idea had been forming in her mind for quite some time. Yankees had money.
She needed a way to care for Miss Maddy, Camilla, and little Henry. Somehow she
had to get those Yankees to share.

1948

Andy leaned against his propped-up pillows and
frowned. He’d come to the end of this journal.
At the worst
moment.
What was Cat planning to do to get money from the soldiers?

He moved carefully from the bed, clutching his side as
he made his way to the boxes of tablets and journals. Thankfully, they were
organized into some semblance of order or he’d have wasted hours, maybe days,
trying to sequence the writings. After a few minutes of moving boxes here and
there, he found the next journal. He settled down and read through eyes that,
after a week of being swollen shut, had only the day before gone down enough to
allow for reading, difficult though it was. It was slow, unfocused at times,
but certainly preferable to sitting idly, listening to the sounds of the house
while everyone was too busy to visit him or read to him from the journals.

“Andy?” A tap sounded at his door.

“Come in.”

“Is everything all right up here?” Miss Lottie’s
soft-spoken southern accent brought about the nostalgic longing he often
experienced in her presence. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Wasn’t
sure he wanted
to.
No, he knew he didn’t want to. Most
likely it was only a residual effect of spending the latter half of his
childhood without his mother, who in his memory spoke very much like Lottie.

“Yes, ma’am. Everything’s fine.”

A frown marred the otherwise smooth brow. She planted
her hands on her hips. “Then what was all that banging around?”

Andy smiled. “I was just finding the next of Miss Penbrook’s
journals.”

“Oh, I see your eyes are beginning to open. That’s
real good. You’ll be back to normal in no time.”

A grin tipped Andy’s lips. “I’ve been a bother,
haven’t I?”

“Of course not.” Sincerity rang in her tone, leaving
no doubt that she spoke her true feelings. “Buck says Miss Penbrook’s diaries
are real interesting.”

“They are.”

“Should you be reading much?”

With a sigh, Andy set the book aside. “I guess my head
is aching from trying to focus.”

Miss Lottie walked closer to the bed. “My work is
finished until time to start supper. I wouldn’t mind reading to you for a
while.”

“I’d hate to impose.”

“Nonsense. It’d be my pleasure.” A hint of starch
lingered as she leaned over him to retrieve the book. In truth, she was a young
woman, probably several years his junior, but her demeanor made him long for
his mother.

She settled into the chair next to his bed. “From the
beginning?”

“Yes. I was just about to start reading when you
knocked.”

August 1864

Even the sky wept the spring day Miss Maddy was laid
to rest. As the last shovelful of dirt was thrown, Cat looped her arm with
Camilla’s. Had she not, the young woman would have fallen under the weight of
grief. Years of animosity were set aside as they shared an umbrella and watched
the makeshift casket, crafted by the blue-coated soldiers occupying town, being
lowered into the earth.

Not many mourners joined them. After all, Maddy wasn’t
one of theirs. And neither were the girls. The few neighbors who did attend
made their displeasure known as soon as it was apparent that Yankee Captain
Stuart Riley and his men were tending to the burial.

Their closest neighbor, Mrs. Cates, an old dowager who
lived five miles away, made a beeline for the girls as soon as the minister
said the final prayer. “You two should be ashamed of yourselves letting Yankee
soldiers bury anyone on Georgia soil.” She zeroed in on them both as though not
quite sure which was which. “I always liked your ma, even if she was a Yank.
But I can’t abide the presence of those infidels. You should be ashamed.”

Camilla’s forlorn expression tugged at even Cat’s
heart, but she remained silent. No one seemed to question her presence at the
graveside. There had been so little interaction between the Penbrook plantation
and the other families in the county that Cat doubted anyone knew of her roots.
This emboldened her. She returned the old dowager’s glare.

Camilla shrugged and pressed a handkerchief to her red
nose. “Th–there was no one else to build a casket or dig a grave.”

Mrs. Cates harrumphed. “I would rather blister my
hands and dig the grave myself than allow the enemy to step a foot on my
place.”

“But Captain Riley has been so kind.” Camilla’s words
brought a look of outrage to Mrs. Cates’ sour face. “Why, if not for the men
allowing us to take in their washing and ironing, we would have starved.”
Whether Camilla’s defense of Captain Riley and his men
was
simply due to grief and exhaustion, or if she had truly had a change of heart,
Cat couldn’t fathom. But at least in this moment, and for all of her former
haughtiness toward the soldiers, Camilla wasn’t so stupid she didn’t recognize
their contribution to
Penbrook’s
safety and
well-being
.