by Naomi Finley
“You are mean-spirited.” I frowned, feigning displeasure. Shuffling to my feet, I moved to the cradle Jimmy had fashioned for the baby. I kissed his velvet cheek and laid him down and covered him with the blanket he’d arrived swaddled in. “Sleep well, Sailor,” I whispered. After bidding them all good evening, I left for the main house.
The voices of Whitney, Ben, and Kip drifted from the front veranda, and I went to join them.
“Evening,” I said, mounting the steps.
Whitney moved over on the porch swing and patted the open space. I seated myself beside her.
“How’s the baby doing?” Ben asked before taking a sip of his brandy.
“His name’s Sailor, and he’s doing well,” I said.
Ben’s hand jerked, and he lowered his glass. “You’ve given the child a name?”
“We can’t continue to refer to him as ‘the baby,’ now can we?” I smoothed my skirt while avoiding his gaze.
“I suppose not. But you do seem to be spending more time in the quarters lately.”
“It’s all over her face.” Whitney was not going to miss the chance to jump in with the opinion she’d stated countless times since the baby arrived. “She cares for the baby, and not only because she feels responsible for him.”
Traitor.
“Is this a fact?” Ben lifted the glass to his lips and took a rather long sip.
“I don’t know…I feel he’s alone in the world. That he needs me.”
“He’s hardly alone. He has every woman in the quarters doting on him. The boy will be spoiled rotten before you know it,” Whitney said.
“Sailor. His name’s Sailor,” I reiterated.
“Be careful. You’ll only set yourself up for heartache if you get too attached to the child,” Ben said.
I knew that he spoke the truth. A white woman and a mistress of a plantation coddling and showing affection to a black child would set people to talking. “You’re right, of course.”
“But that won’t stop what’s already in your heart.” Kip crossed his ankle over his knee, and his caring brown eyes fell on me.
I shrugged. Tilting back my head, I let out a sigh as I peered up at the glistening stars sprinkled like grains of sugar across the rich black sky.
He was right. Sailor had wiggled into my heart. The desire to protect him had been aroused in me when I’d first held him in my arms. Is this what mothers feel when their infant is placed in their arms for the first time? “I do care for him,” I said, lowering my head. I wasn’t willing to share with them how deep-rooted my feelings were for the baby.
A blanket of silence fell.
Whitney rose to her feet. “I’m going to head in for the night.” She gave me a hug and said her good nights before wandering inside.
“If you two don’t mind, I’m going to do a final round of the property before I retire.” Ben stood and descended the steps and disappeared.
After they were gone, I turned to Kip. “Sorry I chased them away.”
He chuckled. “You have strange effects on people. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you take pleasure in chasing people away.”
I grimaced at him. We sat for a moment in quiet bliss. Effortless and comfortable was the way it was between Kip and I.
“You know, I don’t regret the day Father tried to marry me off to you. If he hadn’t, maybe life wouldn’t have brought us together.”
“If he’d succeeded, maybe you wouldn’t be creeping up on spinster age now.” His eyes gleamed with amusement.
I snickered. “Maybe.”
He fell silent. His eyes captured an insignificant object in the distance.
“Kip?”
“Hmm.”
“You don’t hold my choice against me, do you? I mean…you understand, right?”
“What’s there to understand?” He looked at me with serious eyes that burrowed into mine. “You can’t make anyone love someone they don’t. If God had aligned our paths differently, maybe you would’ve looked my way.” He laughed in an effort to brush away his true feelings, and the ache that shadowed his face hurt me.
He was my friend and I loved him.
How different would my life be if my heart had fallen for him? I’d be living in New York with Kipling, and together we’d be making a difference in this dark world. The weary question that often rampaged through my mind surfaced. Why had life placed me here? Bound by law and country, the owner of slaves, and a mockery of myself in all I believed.
“You’ll marry one day. She’ll be a lovely creature who will sweep you off your feet and make you forget what you think should’ve been your life,” I said.
“Perhaps.” He leaned back in his chair and glided it back and forth with his feet.
If only things were different…
Kip had gone to the guesthouse. After his departure I took a stroll along the path by the pond. The hot weather was coming, and the humidity in the air made my skin sticky. Tomorrow Ruby and Kip would return to New York. I’d miss them terribly, but Ruby had promised to return soon.
Soon my household would make the journey to the North for the summer, and this year more than any other distressed me. Jones and his men would oversee the plantation while we were gone. The threat of the masked men attacking plantations while the owners were away was on everyone’s mind. Then there was Silas Anderson. What was I supposed to think of his suggestion of courtship? When I’d declined his offer, his expression had been that of a rejected man, hadn’t it? Recently, my nightmares were sprinkled with his face, and it wasn’t the pleasant one I’d known, but bitter and demonic. I told myself my overactive mind was taking Whitney and Tillie’s foreboding and making up a script of its own to play with my head.
Then there was Bowden. The thought of him pained me. Knox had said he was healing and I had to find peace in that. We’d called our courtship off, and being friends had proven too painful for the both of us. The accident had only pushed us further away from each other. I’d given up trying to see him and came to terms with the realization that where life had brought us together for a short time, it had now divided our paths. In this understanding, I focused on making it through another day and protecting all that I loved here at Livingston. I’d find ways to keep busy by helping my friends and sources in the North in the cause.
Hearing footsteps behind me, I spun around and lifted my lantern. Ben strolled toward me.
“I wanted to speak to you.”
“Everything all right around the grounds?”
“Yes. All is good. I’ve been thinking…”
My pulse quickened. “Why does that concern me?”
“When you all go North I’m going to remain behind to make sure things don’t go awry here. With all that’s going on, I think someone of the household needs to watch over things.”
“I’ve been mulling that over in my own head. There are too many uncertainties to leave. Maybe Whitney and the twins should stay in Charleston, and you and I remain here.”
“There’s no need for us both to risk the sicknesses and diseases. But it may be a good idea if you stay in town this season. I’ll be in and out of town, and I’ll keep you informed on the running of the plantation. You can see to the warehouses and manage the shipments. If you relieve that from my mind, I’d be able to focus on this place and keep an eye out for anything of concern.”
“Like the masked men?”
“Among other things.”
“It’s for—”
We swung our heads toward the pounding of horse’s hooves coming up the lane.
“Who could that be? Are you expecting anyone?” I said.
“No. But whoever it is, they appear to be in a hurry.”
We hurried around the pond and reached the front walk as the riders drew close enough to get a clear view. Against the darkness of the night, a vision of a woman dressed in pale blue fabric and the cream Negro cloth of a man’s shirt flashed toward us.
Josephine? What could she want?
&
nbsp; She sat in front on the horse with a strapping slave man mounted behind her. His thick arms surrounded her middle as he held the reins. Josephine’s eyes were wild. She sent a glance back down the lane before her eyes fell on Ben and me. “Willow!” she called out. Panic gripped her face.
The man reined the horse to a stop.
“Get down,” Josephine instructed the slave.
He jumped down and turned and held his hands up to her. She rested her hands on his shoulders, and he wrapped his hands around her waist and swung her with care to the ground. As soon as Josephine’s feet hit the ground, she strode toward me. She winced as her hands moved to hold her lower stomach.
Was she injured?
“I need your help!” Tears shook her voice. “I don’t know who else to turn to.” Her face was strained, and it appeared as if she hadn’t slept in weeks. “Please—he knows.”
“Who? Who knows?” I clasped her wrists with my hands.
“Father.” Tears welled in her fear-filled eyes.
“What does he know?”
“He knows…about us.” She motioned to the slave. “You may see wrong in what I’ve done, but I know you have more heart than anyone I know.” Her words tumbled over one another.
“Josephine!” I shook her. “You aren’t making any sense.”
“Mother tricked my handmaid into revealing my secret. Father had Jethro chained up until his return from town. He’s expected back from town any hour, and he promised on his return he was going to hang Jethro.” She became hysterical, and shook her arms free of my grasp. “I need you to get him out on your ships. Please help us. Please…” She collapsed against me; her fingers dug at my flesh through my sleeves. “I’d rather know he’s far away and safe, even if I never see him again, than to see what my father will do.”
I regarded the slave, who hadn’t stood still since he got off the horse. I flinched as memory hit me. He was the man who had left Sailor at the door. Oh, God. No.
My mouth agape, I pulled her back and looked into her bloodshot eyes.
“We’ll help you,” Ben said, stepping forward. “You get on home, and we’ll handle things from here.”
Through tears, she said, “I’ll never forget your kindness.”
“Josie, you must go now!” the slave said. His eyes darted nervously.
She buried her face in her hands, and her whole body shook with sobs. The slave encased her in his arms. “Don’t cry, my love. All will be fine.” He rested his chin on her head.
“You put us all in danger. You must leave,” I said, my jitteriness turning to panic.
Josephine turned to her lover and wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands circled her waist. She smiled softly. “Until we meet again.”
“If not on earth, may it be in heaven.” He planted a tender kiss on her lips. Then in a swift movement, as if she were weightless, he swung her back up on the horse. Her tears flowed freely as she looked at me and nodded in gratitude.
The slave slapped the rear of the horse, and it took off toward home. We waited until the last glimmer of Josephine’s white petticoats and blue dress faded into the darkness before we sprang into action.
“SLOW DOWN. WE MUST THINK this through,” I called out to Ben, who was in an almost full-out run toward the dock.
Hidden from view of the front lane, we stopped.
“You’re him,” I said to the slave. “The baby’s father.”
Ben and Kip examined the man with interest.
“That is correct.”
“I saw you at the Christmas banquet at the Abbottses. You’re a domestic slave.” I recalled how Josephine had looked at him.
“Yes.” The cords in his neck tightened.
“Josephine’s his mother, isn’t she?” I said, already knowing what his answer would be.
His stare was bold and almost pleading. “She can’t know.”
Had he come unhinged? I’d witnessed Evie’s birth, and it wasn’t a pretty sight. It was impossible for a woman to forget she’d given birth after the horror it took to get a child out. My womb clenched at the memory. “Know what?”
“That you have the boy. For your sake and for hers.”
“Why?” Ben said, his face darkening as he draped a protective arm around my shoulder.
“She’d be tempted to come for the boy. We all know what Masa Abbotts would do if he found out the child lives.”
“He thinks he’s dead?” Kip said.
“Josie told him he was stillborn and she threw him in the river to hide her shame. Masa Abbotts doesn’t want anyone knowing, and he’ll silence whoever he needs to, to keep the truth from coming out. He’ll have my Josie married within the month. He said so.”
To the dreadful old man Josephine had mentioned at the Christmas banquet. All of this was making sense. The nonstop eating, the weight gain, the change in attitude.
Oh, Josephine, my heart cried. The agony she had to be going through!
“With my disappearance, I fear for my ma and pa and my sister.” Jethro’s shoulders slumped.
“No more dillydallying. He leaves tonight,” Ben said, marching toward the dock. “If Abbotts doesn’t wait for morning, he will come by horse.”
“What’s the plan?” I hurried to match his pace. Kip and Jethro’s heavy footfalls pounded behind me.
“Get him to the next station,” Ben said over his shoulder.
“We must proceed with a different plan. Moving him to the next station won’t work this time. Stop!” I grabbed at the back of his arm.
Ben halted and turned to me. “What do you suggest?”
“Jethro won’t be regarded as a runaway slave. Abbotts will hunt every inch of the country seeking him out. No homestead will be left unturned. He must be on the next ship out.”
“I agree with her,” Kip said.
Not waiting for Ben to agree, I turned to Kip. “You’ll be leaving for town tonight.”
“Me?” Kip’s brow rose.
“Get your things and meet us at the dock,” I said.
“I’ll grab Ruby,” Kip said.
“No need. Ruby won’t be going with you. You will have a new manservant for the journey. Jacob, wasn’t it?” I referred to the name he’d forged on Ruby’s papers.
Understanding spread over Kip’s face. “Jethro will take Ruby’s place.”
“Brilliant.” Ben smiled grimly. “Now, let’s go. Kipling, get your things. We’ll inform Ruby in the morning of the change of plans. I’ll see to it you both make it to town tonight. A night in the warehouse won’t be the most comfortable, but it’s the best I can think of for now.”
“It’ll work. I’ve had worse sleeping arrangements.” Kip waved a hand.
“You may not be saying that soon,” Ben said.
“Why is that?”
“You will set sail on a cargo ship as soon as I can arrange it.” Ben clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll get Jones. Meet me at the dock.”
Kip ran back to the guesthouse. Ben barreled off toward Jones’s cabin.
“Come,” I said to Jethro.
On the dock, we waited for the men to join us.
“Your son—”
“I can’t take him with me. I’ll be on the run. I can’t care for an infant, and he needs a wet nurse.” Tears welled in his eyes.
Relief rushed through me, washed away as quickly as it arrived by a wave of sadness. “I promise you, I will care for Sailor like he was my family.”
“You called the boy Sailor?” He raised his head to look at me.
“Why did you bring him here?”
“I know what you do for the slaves.”
I felt my face drain of blood.
“My folks—can you help them? With my disappearance, I fear for their safety.”
“I can’t. It’s too risky. I’m sorry…” I swallowed back tears.
He nodded; his shoulders drooped.
We turned at the hammering of footsteps vibrating the dock. Ben raced by me and climbed down into the
riverboat, and Kip jumped in behind him. Jones untied the rope and gestured to Jethro. “Come on, move along.”
I grabbed Jethro’s hand as he moved past me and squeezed it. “I will tell him of you.” My voice trembled. “And…her.”
A tear dropped down his cheek. “Bless you.”
“Willow, we must leave. Now!” Ben said with growing irritation.
“Go with God,” I said.
“You are hope for us all,” he whispered as a shudder ran through him. He broke away and charged down the dock and leaped into the boat. Jones jumped in after him.
The boat drifted out into the river and soon vanished from sight. Without delay, I made for the house to prepare for the arrival of Abbotts and his posse. They’d come. If not tonight, tomorrow or the next day, but they’d come, and of that I was certain.
Ben
WE MOVED ALONG THE RIVER as quickly as bandits on the run from the law. On the floor of the boat, the man lay covered by a tarp. My grip on the oars tightened as the one question that had repeated in my head since the man’s arrival took precedence.
The man had brought his child to Livingston because he believed the boy would be safe there. Who else had he told?
I kicked back the edge of the tarp with my boot to reveal his face. “How did you know to bring the child to Livingston?”
Only the whites of his eyes could be seen in the darkness encompassing us. “Slaves say your brother helped slaves. Folks called him the Guardian.”
Charles was the one they call the Guardian? “Go on,” I said, craning my neck side to side to ease the tightness in my neck and shoulders.
“With his death, folks lost hope. Until slaves started disappearing again and they started saying he was the phoenix rising from the dust.”
Phoenix, I thought bitterly. If you’re the slaves’ savior, where are you now?
Jones watched me intently as I fought to maintain a bland expression. We’d all been under overwhelming pressure since Charles’s death. I grew weary of walking in his long-faded footsteps and dreamed of a life of my own. One that wasn’t surrounded by memories of Charles.
“I never told another soul what I witnessed that morning,” Jethro said.
