“What is it?”
Willow shook her head. “Nothing, I’m just having a harder time with patience than usual. I’m fine, Miss Eva.”
The other woman held Willow’s gaze as if searching for more than her words said. Then she directed her attention to Anders’s shirt.
Without the strain of Eva’s close observation, Willow’s thoughts returned to Thor. He was just a man, one who certainly had no place in her life. Surely, she could make her goals without thoughts of Thor Magnusen intruding upon them.
Very well, she thought with a stern jab of the needle through a buttonhole. Remember the movement. She silently repeated the three words until thoughts of Thor drifted away, and the plight of the three children from the woods came to the forefront.
The two boys and girl were family. The resemblance was too strong to be otherwise. Where did their flight from bondage begin? Did they have parents, and if they did, what happened to them?
What would the children discover in Canada after their ride on the Freedom Train ended? Would they find a kind family to take them in, or would they have to make it on their own?
Willow knew that the network of abolitionists who assisted in helping slaves escape to freedom would provide for the children’s welfare, but the children needed more than money. They’d need love and guidance, too. Who would provide for their emotional needs?
“Did you hear that?”
Eva’s voice, hushed with an undercurrent of excitement, interrupted Willow’s thoughts. Disoriented at having her thoughts jarred abruptly, Willow shook her head. “I didn’t hear anything. What did it sound like?”
She moved to stand, but Eva waved in a dismissing gesture. Eva’s chair scraped across the floorboards as she pulled herself up and waddled to the door. Her slender, pale hands patted her hair into place, searching for any loose tendrils.
Eva then pinched her cheeks a couple of times before answering Willow. “It sounds like Anders.” She pulled the front door open, and a wide smile parted her lips. “He’s home!”
“Blessed be,” Willow said aloud with a soft laugh. Eva’s love for her husband was certainly a remarkable sight.
While Eva greeted Anders, Willow stored the mending inside its box and set it on the floor near the fireplace. After wiping the table down, she prepared a meal setting for two. By the time she was done, Eva returned with Anders.
“Good day, Mr. Anders.” Willow forced a demure smile as she moved away from the table to gather her belongings. Despite her deep affection for his wife, Anders’s staunch disregard for the anti-slavery movement stung. The reverend tried many times to convince him of the moment’s importance, but nothing shook him. Willow wondered how a man loved his wife with his whole heart, yet that same heart held no compassion for others in dire circumstances.
He returned her greeting with a jerk of his head. “Willow.”
She draped her shawl around her shoulders and tucked her things inside the crook of her arm. Looking at Eva, she said, “The stew should be ready in a minute or two. I suppose I’ll see you in the morning. Bye, Miss Eva, Mr. Anders.”
Eva’s face fell. “I thought you’d have dinner with us. I wanted you to be here when I told Anders about Thor.”
Willow’s heart pounded at the mention of Thor. “You don’t need me for that, Miss Eva.”
“Who’s Thor? I heard that there have been strangers in the area.” Anders demanded when Eva opened her mouth to protest further. “Is he a friend of the reverend’s?” His voice clipped with a steel-tipped edge. “I appreciate his help with the lumber, but he knows better than to bring his friends around here. I told him my views on that—”
“Anders, please,” Eva hushed him. “Thor is not one of Reverend Brown’s friends. He’s your kin!”
“My kin?” Disbelief riddled his expression. “You must be mistaken, Eva.” He shrugged out of his jacket and set it on the back of a chair then strode to the chamber set to wash his hands. “None of my kin would be caught dead down here.”
“He is a relation,” Eva argued. She looked at Willow for support. “Tell him. Didn’t you mistake him for Anders when you first saw him?”
“I did,” Willow agreed. “I didn’t have my spectacles, but there was a resemblance. At the creek, he told me he’s a Magnusen, and he later said that he’s a distant relation.”
Anders finished drying his hands and faced the women with a frown. “I don’t know any Magnusen by the name of Thor. Where is he from?”
“He said down by Atlanta.” Eva tottered across the room to take her husband’s hand. “It’s possible that you wouldn’t know him since he’s from so far south. You favor so much you must be related.”
Anders’s frown softened at the touch of Eva’s hand. He glanced at the table and then looked at Willow and his wife. “Well, where is he? The table’s only set for two.”
Willow’s stomach clenched as unease swept over her. Her eyes darted to Eva and the woman’s face was void of color. Clearing her throat, Willow answered in a strained voice. “He’s over at the reverend’s. I’ll tell him you’re back.”
“Willow, wait!” Eva spoke with sharp conviction. “What were you saying about strangers, Anders? What did you hear in town?”
“I heard bits and pieces from here and there. No one said anything about another Magnusen in the area.”
“Then, they weren’t referring to Thor,” Eva said quietly. “Could the strangers have been slave patrollers?”
His mouth tightened into a grim line. “You know I wouldn’t ask something like that.”
“You should,” she gently reprimanded. “Willow crosses two miles of woods between here and the Brown farm just to help me. If bounty hunters are roaming the woods looking for people of color, she isn’t safe. That should concern you some.”
He colored fiercely. “It does. I don’t want anything to happen to her, but no one said anything about bounty hunters or patrollers. They just said strangers, and that can mean anyone. Since people are starting to come to Brown’s meetings, I didn’t think anything of it. Willow, I can see you home—“
“That won’t be necessary. Miss Eva needs you,” Willow said. “Besides, I know a safe way to get home. Reverend Brown and I often change my route. I’ll let Mr. Thor know that you’re home and dinner is ready. Have a good evening.”
Before they could voice disapproval, she slipped out the door and headed for home.
* * *
The afternoon spent with Reverend Brown was grueling. The man whipped out the history of the abolitionists’ role in the Underground Railroad as well as key code phrases at a rapid-fire pace.
Thor concentrated hard to keep up. The impromptu class quickly reminded him of his first football practice with a real coach instead of Cal assuming the role. The immediate recognition of the similarities made the jargon easy to remember. He didn’t foresee any difficulties that would prevent him from assisting the reverend to the best of his ability.
Willow appeared.
Her sudden emergence was an instant distraction. Her gentle, melodious voice called out a greeting that drew his gaze to her. As she left the doorway of the barn and glided toward them, Thor instinctively realized she represented a powerful complication.
Thor swallowed hard when she reached them. “Hi, Willow.”
Her liquid ebony eyes darted once at Brown before her gaze settled on him. “Hello, Mr. Thor.”
Silent, forbidden thoughts languished between them. He intrigued her just as she fascinated him. Thor knew it. With every fiber of his being, he knew she found the draw irresistible but fought diligently to ignore the temptation. He waged against his primal impulses, too. What would happen when the fight left them and they were left alone? Could common sense defeat the inevitable?
Reverend Brown’s harsh cough broke the spell. Willow’s face tightened as she looked away. Thor drew in a ragged breath, riddled with irritation and frustration. Turning his back to them, he grabbed a nearby pitchfork and shoveled hay
into the horses’ stalls.
“Olivia could probably use some help with the younguns. They’ve eaten, but I suspect there’s more that could be done to help them.”
“I understand,” Willow answered. “I have a message for him, and then I’ll go inside to help.”
Her light footsteps brushed across the barn floor like a quiet whisper. Thor stiffened when she reached him, and the heat of her body burned against his back. His knuckles became white as he gripped the pitchfork and faced her. “Is Eva still asking for me?”
Several wisps of jet-black hair escaped from the single braid hanging down her back and caressed her high cheekbones as she shook her head. “Not exactly. Mr. Anders is back, and he wants to meet you. I told him I’d tell you.”
“Thank you.” His tight expression relaxed into a smile. “Thank you for the message.”
“You’re welcome,” she returned with a soft curve of her mouth. “Dinner’s ready over there, too. It’s not much. Only rabbit stew, but it is filling.”
“Rabbit stew?” He cocked an eyebrow. Another of his grandmother’s concoctions came to mind, and his stomach unleashed a hearty growl. Chuckling softly, he rubbed his stomach. “That sounds tempting, but I aim to stay for the meeting. If I’m lucky, I suppose Anders will leave enough for a plate.”
“The meeting?” She directed her dark, questioning eyes to Reverend Brown. “There’s a meeting tonight?”
He pierced Thor with a hard stare of disapproval then he cleared his throat. “There is. Thor encountered a patroller while forwarding the baggage. It’s prudent that more guidelines are set forth. From now on, either Anders or I will escort you to and fro. These woods are no longer safe. Now Olivia is waiting, Willow.”
“I know she’s waiting.” Her voice was quiet. Her chin set into a stubborn line.
Dark lashes slipped over orbs that Thor noted were brimmed with hurt. He ached to comfort her but sensed anything he said would only fuel her pain. She knew the workings of the Underground Railroad, and he wondered why Brown excluded her from the meeting. From the series of questions that etched across her expressive beautiful face, he knew she wondered the same.
With determined strides, she spun from Thor and went to the reverend. Her husky voice stammered with disappointment. “Wh-Why didn’t you tell me about the meeting, Reverend? Why did he know and not me? I want to help, too. This is important to me.”
Reverend Brown rested his hands on her shoulders. He spoke to her in warm tones that hinted his superiority. “I understand that, but as I’ve told you before, your involvement must be kept to a bare minimum. Let’s not have this discussion again. Those children are waiting, and the light of the sun is slipping away. Don’t be disrespectful just because a stranger is watching.”
Willow’s throat worked as she swallowed down his words. Her humiliation drifted to Thor and sickened him. She left without looking back, and he didn’t blame her.
His regard for Brown diminished. Thor’s hand closed to a fist. The urge to strike out on Willow’s behalf gripped him. The pitchfork fell at his feet as Thor stormed from the stall. “You didn’t have to humiliate her,” he bit out. “She didn’t deserve that.”
Brown pulled a pouch from his coat pocket. He took his time as he filled his corncob pipe with tobacco. When he finished, he rolled the pouch up and stuck it inside his pocket. The pad of his thumb pressed the tobacco while he bored his steely green eyes into Thor. “You’ve known her for a little more than a day, and you’re telling me what she doesn’t deserve. Son, I’ve known her all of her life. I know—”
“I’m not your son,” Thor growled through gritted teeth. He jerked his head toward the door. “It doesn’t matter how long I’ve known her. She deserved a better answer than the one you gave her. You had no right to patronize her, either alone or with me as a witness. She wants to help. Let her.”
“I reckon you have all the answers, don’t you?”
“I know the difference between right and wrong,” Thor retorted. “The way you talked to her just now wasn’t right. She’s a woman, not a child.”
“A woman you say?” The older man’s eyebrows raised inquiringly.
Thor rolled his eyes. “Not that again. You made your feelings clear, and I agree. Nothing will happen between Willow and me.”
“I wasn’t referring to that,” Brown explained in a quiet voice. “I know she’s a woman, but she’s young. There are ways in the world that she doesn’t know a thing about. I ’spect Olivia and me may have been wrong to shelter her so, but the wrong was born of love, so we’ll have to answer to God for that.”
“Love? I find that one hard to believe.”
“I imagine you do,” Brown replied, “but consider this… What do you suppose would have happened if Willow had led those children here instead of you? Do you think that sour bellied marauder would have listened to her tale of rampaging Cherokee on the hunt for white men’s scalps? Do you?”
A stab of ice-cold fear pierced Thor’s heart and rendered him numb. His mind went crazy as images of alternate possibilities flashed in his head. Remembering how the bounty hunter’s eyes glazed over twelve-year-old Charity, the man would have drooled at the sight of Willow. If she had guided those children in place of him, the patroller would have taken all four of them back with him. No doubt the bastard would have brutalized both females along the way.
Another thought seized him. If he hadn’t traveled back in time and changed the course of events, Willow would have been with the children instead of him. The color drained from his face. He groaned. “Oh, God.”
“You understand.” Reverend Brown’s mouth set to a grim line. “I don’t speak harshly to harm her, but the less she knows, the better off she is. Maybe you’ve seen it. She’s headstrong and smart, and that can be an advantage. However, for her, until things change, it isn’t. I do what I do to protect her…from herself and anything else that’s liable to cause her harm.”
* * *
Reverend Brown’s words stabbed Willow’s heart. He was adamant about what role she took with the movement, but he had never shamed her. To have him do so in front of Thor embarrassed her. Her face grew hot with renewed humiliation. Pounding blood roared in her ears and tears stung her eyes. Willow blinked the offending moisture away, took a deep breath and entered the place she thought of as home.
A slight woman with fiery red hair and warm brown eyes welcomed Willow with a smile. “Hello, dear. You’re back just in time. Dinner is almost ready.”
“Thank you, Miss Olivia,” Willow said. “I’m not hungry. I hope you don’t mind if I excuse myself to assist with the baggage. The reverend said you needed help.”
“You look a little pale, and I’ve never known you to refuse chicken and dumplings.” Olivia left the kitchen and moved to stand in front of Willow. She pressed the back of her hand against Willow’s forehead. “Your forehead isn’t hot, but that doesn’t mean anything. Are you feeling under the weather? “
Willow shook her head. “No, I’m fine. I’m just not hungry is all.”
Olivia nodded slowly. “The food will be here for you whenever you’re ready for it. The children are resting. I haven’t time to see if I have anything that will fit them. Could you go through the trunk and take some things in there to them?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’d be happy to.”
Willow left her belongings in her room and then headed down the hall toward the bedroom the Browns’ shared. She searched through the trunk at the foot of the bed. After finding garments she thought would be suitable for the children, she closed the trunk and moved to the far wall. Her fingertips glided along the wooden partition until they found the faint break in the wall that disguised the hidden catch. Using her palm, Willow pushed against the secret hitch. The opening to the concealed room parted with a soft hiss, and she slipped inside.
The children jumped as the bottom of her shoes tapped across the hardwood floor. Candlelight flickered in the compact room, enveloping it in a dusky g
low. Willow stepped closer to the burning flame and knelt beside the bed where the children lay. She gave them a tender smile and whispered, “It’s only me. I brought some clothes for when you continue on your journey.”
“We have to leave now?” the young girl asked.
Willow shook her head. “No, you’ll stay here for a few days to build your strength and what not. These clothes are for when you leave.”
The oldest boy took the garments from her and mumbled a barely audible, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Were you sleeping?” she asked.
This time, the smaller boy answered. “No, ma’am. The Missus told us to stay back here and be quiet. We’re tired, but we ain’t sleepy. Do we have to sleep now?”
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Willow told him. “Would you mind if I sit here with you for a while and we talked?”
The younger children’s eyes grew large as if they wanted to say yes, but they didn’t utter a word. Instead, they looked at their older brother who sat quietly with his back against the wall. He gave a slight nod, and the girl quickly added, “We don’t mind.”
Willow brought a chair from against the wall and set it beside the bed. She sat down and laced her fingers together in her lap. “We didn’t have time for introductions before. My name is Willow. What’s yours?”
“I’m Charity,” the girl quickly responded. She pointed at her brothers. “This is Clay and that’s Nat.”
“Are you brothers and sister?” Willow asked, amazed by the younger children’s eagerness to converse. Nat was quieter than his siblings, but Willow sensed that he hung on every word.
“Yessum,” Clay responded. “We’re twelve and Nat is about fifteen or sixteen.”
Willow bit back a chuckle. “You say that like you’ve been asked that before.”
“Thor asked us—”
“Ssh!” Nat hit his brother’s arm. “You know better than to call a white man by his first name.”
Clay’s bottom lip poked out as he rubbed his arm. “He said we could.”
“White men say a lot of things. That don’t mean he means ’em. Look at what happened to Mama and Papa.”
Love Lasts Forever Page 8
