18. Eighteen
The river wind pushed through the pilothouse’s open windows and scurried along Daniel’s damp forehead. Camilla pulled a length of rope, and a deep whistle pierced the air. Dog settled on one hip, she gripped the wheel spokes with her other hand and moved the Alma May into the current.
Had he ever seen a woman more capable?
As though sensing his study, she cast a look over her shoulder, eyes shining bright. They were finally on their way, and she reigned over her watery domain with confidence.
Lula watched the open windows, gaze following a hawk on its path across a cloudless sky. How did Camilla function with one arm encumbered by a childlike canine?
“You want me to hold her?”
“You can if she’ll let you. She insists on looking out the window when we first take to the river. She’ll eventually settle onto her own feet, but not until we are well underway.”
He reached out for the dog, but she turned her head away and dug claws into Camilla’s arm. “I’ll take that as a no.”
A warm chuckle bubbled from her throat. “She likes you better than most, which is saying something.”
A passing steamer belched black smoke into the sky, its rumbling engines chugging up muddy waters. He fingered the map in his pocket. Hope refused to give way to logic, even though sense told him someone would have gathered up lost gold a long time ago—if there’d been anything to find.
“Are you going to tell me the truth now?” Camilla’s question snaked along his spine, leaving tingles.
How much was safe? “What do you mean?”
She cocked an eyebrow.
He opened the map and scanned the hand-drawn lines for the markers indicated. “Truth is I doubt we are going to find anything, but I can’t live with myself if I don’t try.”
“Hmm.” She tilted the wheel and studied the water ahead. “I was referring to that bit about Mabel and Lucas being in danger if you didn’t come up with a lot of money fast. We were so busy talking about how all these puzzle pieces fit—you never expanded on that particular one.”
He shouldn’t have brought it up. “Remember the men I told you about?”
“The slippery ones, yes.”
Her focus never left the water, which helped to loosen words from his lips. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I received a threatening letter about Mabel’s debts.”
“From the bank?”
“No. The bank is coming for the house, which is all fair and legal as they defaulted on their loans. This is something else.”
“And did Mabel have a part in whatever happened with these men? Or were the schemes only of her husband’s making?”
The question landed in his gut. He hadn’t wanted to consider Mabel having anything to do with the activities that deposited Lucas Sr. in a heap of trouble. “I don’t know.”
“So what do you know?”
As if to emphasize Camilla’s words, Lula turned to stare at him, her dark eyes probing. Heaven help him. The guilt must be getting to him if he was seeing accusation in a dog.
He cleared his throat. “If I don’t give them what they want soon, then they said Mabel will pay. They didn’t say how, but I doubt I’d want to know.”
“And this was in a letter? Why not come in person like they did before?”
A good question. “I have no idea.”
“And what does any of this have to do with what happened to your law practice? And why do you have calluses on your hands? I’ve been wondering that. Businessmen generally have palms as smooth as a lady’s. Well, ladies other than me, mind. I’m not the glove sort. But you know what I mean.” Lips curving, she shot a single glance at him before returning her focus to the river’s currents.
He tried to follow the detour of the topic. “I have calluses on my hands from woodworking.”
That gained another glance. “And your law practice and home?”
And they were back on the original course. No conversation was ever boring with this woman. “That had nothing to do with my calluses.”
“Ha!” She shifted Lula’s weight. “You are a humorous man, Mr. Gray.”
Not an accusation ever leveled on him before. He couldn’t help a smile before her next words almost instantly dissolved it.
“I suppose not. But something drastic must have happened if it cost you not only your business but your house as well.”
She had a right to know the grim details. If there was to be any chance of a relationship between them, he had to be honest. “I was accused of embezzling money from one of my clients.”
“And did you?”
How he hated she had to ask. “Of course not.”
“Then what evidence did they have?”
“The fabricated kind. Not that it helped with my reputation. I lost all my clients but one and had to close my practice. Then my father went missing, and not long after, my grandfather passed. I sold my townhome in Jackson and moved south to start over. The last few months have been…difficult. Just trying to keep our heads above water.”
Her tone softened. “Papa always said the trials mold a man. He can be shaped into something stronger or something harder.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Strong endures. It shelters others.” She adjusted the wheel a fraction. “A hard man forgets everything but the pain and builds walls to keep others out.”
He leaned against the small ledge underneath the front windows. The words struck deep and buried within him. “Your papa was a wise man.”
“That he was.” She nodded ahead. “We are almost out of Natchez. Eight miles north, and then we should find your marker.”
He checked the map and tapped a finger on the picture of stacked stones. “Have you ever seen this before?”
“No, but I wasn’t looking for a particular pile of rocks, either.”
She didn’t ask anything more, and he didn’t elaborate. What would he do if men came looking for Mabel? Or Lucas? Maybe he should move them out of Natchez. Settle down somewhere far out West where they wouldn’t be found.
The two settled into comfortable silence as she navigated the churning waters and they watched the riverbanks slowly slide by as the old steamer paddled against the currents.
Did it really matter if he sold his grandfather’s house? What did a legacy of longstanding wealth amount to anyway? Was that what truly mattered? He’d clung to his good name and reputation. His status in the community. And that had been pulled from under him. He’d made his identity out of the fabric of his education and prestige, only to end up with shredded rags.
What other kind of legacy did he want to leave to his children and grandchildren someday, should God bless him with progeny? If he wanted to be known as a man who’d pursued justice, lived by his faith, and acted honorably, then perhaps he should stop avoiding troubles and face them head-on.
Lest he become hard rather than strong.
After roughly two hours of wrestling with emotions he didn”t usually stop to examine, Camilla rescued him.
“I see something.” She jerked on a line that disappeared through the hull and snatched Daniel from his thoughts. A moment later, the engines slowed.
She must be using the bells to communicate with Solomon in the engine room.
Camilla steered the vessel toward the water’s edge. He scanned the bank but saw nothing more than trees.
“Let me see that map again.”
He held it up. After a glance, she pulled on a different rope, and the boat shuddered as it stopped in the current.
“We’ll anchor here. Up ahead, a shallow bar could cause us trouble. It’s safer if we disembark here.”
She pulled the line controlling the deep whistle and then gave two tugs on one of the ropes connected to the bells in the engine room. How strange that she could only steer the boat but needed Solomon to control their speed. One worked blind, and the other worked with only half control.
No wonder they needed to trust one another.
After the boat anchored down and they lowered the walkway, Camilla handed Lula over to Solomon when he joined them on the deck. Then Daniel and Camilla descended the ramp to the riverbank.
Thick mud stuck to the bottom of his shoes and made a sucking noise against her boots. He shielded his eyes from the glaring light.
“Did you see the marker?”
“Just ahead.” She strode down the bank and skirted a knobby pine.
About five feet into the shadows of the pine branches, a stack of smooth river stones stood waist-high.
Camilla brushed her fingers over the top one. “In the old days, rivermen would leave markers to guide others to safe waters or to points of harbor. This one must have indicated a branch in the river that’s no longer here.”
“I’m amazed you saw this at all from the steamboat.”
“I’ve a keenly developed sense of finding what I’m looking for on the river.” Humor rumbled through her tone.
“Lucky for us, then.” He fished the map from his pocket again and pointed to the drawing matching where they stood. “Looks like we head into the woods from here.”
Camilla shook her head. “Not here.” She pointed to an indent in the riverbank ahead. “My guess would be over there. See how the bank curves in?”
Not particularly. “Sure.”
“It might depict an oxbow or old tributary.”
“I yield to your expertise.”
That earned a smirk, and she led him to the place. Overhead, a whippoorwill called a lonesome cry while a mockingbird squawked. Insects buzzed, their numbers growing as he and the captain delved deeper into the shadows.
Roughly a quarter mile later, they emerged into a clearing. One glistening with shimmering water.
“We found it!” Excitement edged into his voice despite his attempt to remain passive.
Camilla notched her faded cap. “We found a waterway, not the treasure. A waterway which I’m sure we are not the first to stumble upon.”
Leaves crunched under his boots as they ambled deeper into the woods, following the edge of the oxbow. “What do you think brought our fathers here?”
“Not sure, maybe—” She held up a hand and then dropped her voice to a whisper. “Did you hear that?”
He paused to listen. Nothing other than the buzz of insects and the call of birds. The chatter of a squirrel.
“I thought I heard people.”
He spread his palms. “Maybe someone lives back here.”
Her tented eyebrows suggested she doubted it, though he wasn’t sure why. People lived along waterways. Maybe the house here had been built before the river changed course.
All the same, they remained quiet as they picked their way deeper into the woods.
A sound snagged in his ears. He heard it too. Voices.
He edged in front of her and took the lead. They snaked through the high grasses, keeping to the shadows.
“Done told you what the boss said.” A masculine baritone disrupted the squirrels’ chatter. That didn’t sound like friendly neighbor folk.
Camilla looped her hand through his elbow and peered around him. Daniel nodded to a live oak up ahead where they could remain hidden underneath the low branches. They scooted forward, careful of where they placed their boots.
“No one is coming.” Another male voice rose in challenge to the first.
“It’s been three days. I say we move the cargo tonight.”
They ducked under a limb dripping with airy moss and crouched near the damp ground.
“And I told you what the big boss done told Smuggie,” the first voice snapped. “We do what Durkin says or pay the price. You know that.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Quit your bellyaching. I heard Smuggie same as you. But unless you got another boat lined up, then I don’t know what to tell ya.”
Camilla leaned close to his ear. “They sound like bootleggers.”
Her warm breath tickled along his neck. He tightened his grip on the rough bark. “How are we going to search with them here?”
A soft snort brushed his cheek. “We don’t. Men like that are dangerous.”
“Maybe we can go around them.”
Her fingers tightened on his arm. “We wait until they are gone. Then bring Solomon with us and try again tomorrow.”
She didn’t think he could protect her? A pang knifed through him. He lacked the other man’s physical stature and had spent the majority of his adult life at a desk, but he would fight for her if needed.
She slid away from him and out from behind the tree. Withholding a groan, he followed her away from the voices.
He ground his teeth. At best, the smugglers had cost them another delay. And at worst, they’d already taken off with his family’s gold.