joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.’” Camilla sighed. “Why is it so hard to do all those things?”
“’Cause they’re not things you do. It’s what you are when you’re under the Spirit’s control.”
Camilla knitted fiercely for a moment. Had she been under the Spirit’s control yesterday when she’d been in the company of Reverend Leland? He had upset and confused her so that she’d hardly felt like herself.
She put her hand into her pocket and fingered the paper she’d been carrying around all morning. “Portia, if I tell you something, will you promise not to scold?”
“I can promise you’ll be sorry if you don’t tell me.”
What had she expected? “Well, the night I heard—you know…”
Portia gave her a head-down, under-the-eyebrows stare.
“When I went back to the boat I was given this message. I think it’s from Harry, but I can’t make head nor tails of it.”
Portia’s lips tightened. “I told Mr. Jamie there wasn’t no future in encouraging that Martin boy. Not when he’s up there on the wrong side of the Mason-Dixon.”
“But it didn’t come through Jamie this time. And it’s different, somehow. For one thing, he didn’t sign it, and he didn’t give me a key to decode it.”
“Let me see.” Portia took the paper Camilla handed her. “Why you got to set your heart on that rapscallion…” She frowned. “What’s Joshua and the land of Canaan got to do with anything?”
“I don’t know.” Camilla’s needles attacked the sock again. “Do you suppose he’s on a spy mission? Maybe he’s trying to tell me he’s coming down south.”
Portia smoothed the paper. “Could be. He spent a lot of time here with your family when he was in medical school. He knows the area inside out and could blend in. But I hope he’s not planning to make his base here. We got troubles enough of our own.”
“What do you mean?”
“Rumor says the Federals will target Mobile next, now that New Orleans fell. Military regulations will be tighter. The colonel asked some mighty awkward questions when Willie took him the liquor. We got to be more careful than ever. The freedom runs are over ’til further notice.”
“Portia, no!”
“We can’t risk our station. Burn this thing. We can’t take no chances.” Portia slapped the Bible shut.
Camilla tucked the note back into her pocket. “Why don’t you like Harry? He’s on our side.”
Portia picked up a knife to stem a bowl of bright red strawberries. “I got nothing against him. But it’s been a long time since you’ve seen him, and I’m afraid you’re mixing up romance with politics.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Portia sucked in her cheeks. “Haven’t you had this discussion with your grandma already?”
“Lady won’t let me talk about Harry. Oh, Portia, I want…I don’t even know how to tell you what I want!” Camilla stood and plucked a strawberry from the bowl. “Harry used to listen to me and teach me things Jamie and Schuyler wouldn’t, and he treated me like a grownup. He said when I got old enough, he’d marry me and take me to Tennessee where it snows on the mountains and the leaves turn orange in the fall…”
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