“We must elope.”
Anything but that. His hands came between them. “Claire, we can’t. Do you know what that would mean? How that would look? I don’t want that for you.”
She grasped his hands. “I don’t care. I have to be with you. And you heard my father—he won’t allow it. He’s kept me holed up in the house these last four days. If it wasn’t for your argument distracting Abraham, I couldn’t have snuck out.”
“He will find us.”
“We have to take that chance. And if he does, hopefully it will be too late.”
Henry lowered his head.
“I will die if I stay here, caged like a bird, forced to marry someone I don’t love. I want you. I want to go west. To find our future. To find our dreams.”
Our dreams. Dare he hope that she wanted what he did? It was true that she didn’t want this life. And the west offered a new life, a different life. A life he could give her. A life he so badly wanted to give her.
“Say you’ll take me away from all of this. And let me be with you. Always.” She gazed up at him, her hazel eyes pleading, so full of love. How could he deny her anything? Much less something that he wanted too?
He freed a hand and took her chin, tilting it ever so slightly.
Her eyes closed.
Henry could no longer resist what his whole being had been crying out for. He lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.
The contact was simple at first. Sweet. But soon left him wanting. And she responded to his request, opening her lips and inviting deeper contact.
It was bliss. She was heavenly.
When he did pull back, reluctantly, he was certain he floated.
She clung to his shirt, leaning on him.
He wrapped his arms around her and enveloped her in an embrace that grounded him once again.
Could they do this? How could he not?
****
What does one take when eloping? When you will leave all you have known behind and take on a new way of being? A new life?
All of Claire’s gowns and fine dresses would not suit her anymore. Not out west and not tonight. They would be too conspicuous.
What other option did she have? She had to look into Grace’s things. If only she could have asked Mammy to help her. But that would not have served her well. Mammy shouldn’t be responsible for that knowledge should she be asked. So Claire would have to do it on her own.
Mammy slept when Claire sneaked into her room. Grace’s trunk sat in the corner, undisturbed since the day…since a few years past.
Claire's hands shook as she worked the latch on the trunk. It was not much more than a painted crate. But it was all Mammy could afford to remember her daughter by.
The lid creaked as Claire raised it. Glancing over at Mammy’s resting form, she worried the older woman would stir. Then she relaxed. Mammy was a hard sleeper.
Claire held her hands to her chest. Dare she reach in? These were Grace’s few earthly possessions. Would touching them be like disturbing her grave? Such a thought was nonsense. This was no time for such superstitions.
With trembling fingers, she grazed the garments at the top. The clothes were soft, not because of the fabric, but because of how many times they had been worn and washed. Grace hadn’t many things to her name.
Claire pulled out a gray dress. She remembered Grace wearing this one, though the memory, like the pattern, was fading. Would she lose her memories of Grace altogether in the years to come? That thought stung.
She shook her head. There wasn’t time for her to fall apart. One more garment remained. Then she would leave Grace’s things, and Mammy, in peace.
Pulling out Grace’s only other dress, a brown one, Claire closed the trunk. As much as she had wanted to delve into the past and peruse the precious contents of the large memory box, she dared not.
Rising, she held the dresses to herself, praying her flight would be more successful than Grace’s.
Claire paused by Mammy’s bed. Could she leave without a farewell to the woman who had been as a mother to her? But how could she give her a proper goodbye?
Stepping around the small bed that somehow fit Mammy and Abraham, Claire leaned over the woman’s head and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
The woman shifted.
Claire held her breath and pulled the dresses behind her back.
Mammy’s eyes opened. “Sweet child, what you doing up at this hour?”
“I’ve come to kiss you good night.”
Mammy smiled. “You’re a good child to this ole’ mammy, Clarie-belle.”
Claire pulled the covers to Mammy’s chin and patted her shoulder.
The older woman turned to the wall and slipped back into unconsciousness.
And Claire tiptoed out of the room, pausing at the door. “Good night, Mammy. You’ve been good to this little girl.” A tear escaped and fell down Claire's face. She wiped it away. This was what she had to do.
Moving down the hall to her own room, Claire exchanged her dress for Grace’s gray one. Ma should retire soon and then it would be time. She would meet Henry by the creek in less than an hour and, with any luck, they could make it to the next county before Pa returned home tomorrow morning.
A wave of excitement passed through her. And nausea followed. Would they make it? Or would their plan fall apart?
They would. God was on their side. And they would overcome whatever obstacles stood in their way.
Claire watched the sun dip below the horizon. And listened for her mother and the servants to stop moving about the halls.
Once the house was quiet, she waited one hour longer. Which was one hour longer than she preferred. For in that time, she imagined every possible thing that could go wrong. But she also dreamed of how perfect their life would be. The west—a place of freedom from slavery, from the remnants of the war, from her parents. Yes, it was worth the risk.
Opening her door but a crack, she peered out. All was still and dark. She gathered her bundle—the other dress and her underthings. A light burden to bear. Should she gather foodstuffs from the kitchen? No, that would only increase the chance of getting caught.
Claire slipped out of her room. Moving soundlessly down the hall, she made her way to the servants’ stairs. Just a few more moments and she would be out of the house.
She stood at the servants’ exit to the outside and took in the manor house once more. From this perspective, the house was quite different. The fine whites and burgundies were not present, it was simple wood grains and white paint—a mimicry of the more extravagant parts of the house. An echo of the grandeur of the home she had always known.
Nevermore. This would no longer be her home. Her place was with Henry. That’s where her home would be—with him.
Claire reached for the door latch, sucked in a breath, and pulled.
A hand grabbed her arm.
She gasped, spinning to face her captor, and found herself looking into the deep soulful eyes of Abraham.
He spoke not a word, but his hand on her arm was firm.
“Please, Abraham. You know what he’s like. Don’t stop me.”
“I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”
Claire placed a gentle hand on Abraham’s, which loosened its grip on her. “I love him.”
Abraham’s eyes were sad. Were his thoughts on Grace?
“I have to try. I will make it. For me, and for Grace.”
His hand fell to his side.
She touched his shoulder. “All will be well. You’ll see.”
Abraham frowned, but reached out to hold the door open.
Claire wanted to say something further, but there were no words that would assuage his fears. So she nodded and forced a smile onto her features that she didn’t feel. Then she stepped down and into the night, only looking back once.
Abraham remained in the doorway, his form silhouetted in the night. How long would he watch after her?
It was no matter.
Henry waited by the creek. She would be with him in a few moments. And then, their future awaited.
****
Henry's gaze was trained on the hillside in the direction of the manor house. What were they doing? This was crazy.
He had said his farewells to his parents, but had not been able to speak goodbyes to Josephine and Jeremiah. Ma and Pa decided it would be best if they didn’t know until tomorrow. That didn’t keep him from giving them an extra hug…or two at bedtime.
This would not have been possible without his parents. Not only had they given him the money they saved, Pa procured two horses in secret. As much as Ma wanted to load the horses down with things for he and Claire, Pa warned her it would be best they traveled light. Still, she packed what she thought they could not live without. Now if only Henry could erase the memory of the worry in Ma’s eyes when he departed.
But this was what he had to do. For Otis—to live life to the fullest. For Claire. For them both.
A figure topped the hill. Was it?
The skirt was not as full and the sleeves were cut closer to her arms, but it was undeniably his Claire.
He wanted to run to her, but it was wiser to wait under the cover of the trees. A wait that lasted forever.
And when it was over, he pulled her into his embrace. He would never let go of her again.
“Did you have any trouble?” he breathed into her hair.
She shook her head.
He couldn’t help himself, his lips found hers and claimed them once, twice before pulling back.
Claire smiled at him.
Henry pressed a last kiss to her forehead before tugging her toward the horses. “This is Lady. She’ll be a good horse for you.”
Claire appeared a little uncertain.
“Something amiss?”
“I’ve never been much of a horsewoman.”
Henry's lips angled. “We’ll take care of that. Later. For now, trust me and stay close.”
She nodded.
He drew her alongside the mare and hoisted her into the saddle. She flung her leg over the horse’s back and sat astride, like a man. It surprised him.
“I never could get the hang of side-saddle.” Her face colored.
Henry averted his gaze from the way her position on the horse exposed a portion of her stocking-clad calves. He turned to his own steed and mounted with ease. “Shall we?”
Hazel eyes wandered over the area around them. Was she saying her own farewell? Then those glittering orbs met his. He found determination there.
And she nodded.
He smiled and dug his heels into his horse’s flank. The animal took off, giving him good speed. Glancing back, he saw that Claire held her own and even kept up.
Into the night they raced. Sometime later, his trepidations began to quiet. And as they entered Benton County, he began to breathe easier.
Until thundering of hooves sounded in the distance.
****
The night sky seemed to lighten. Or was it just her imagination? Had they been riding that long? Were they almost to Camden?
Claire's heart beat almost as fast as the horse’s hooves landed. Were they safe?
Henry kept looking behind them. What concerned him so?
She tried to even her breathing. Nothing good would come from her worry.
As she watched, he veered to the right.
Claire pulled on Lady’s reins and followed.
They moved through the trees, winding this way and that. Was he searching for something?
A dog howled behind them—a bloodhound.
Did someone pursue them?
Her heart beat harder and her stomach weighed heavy.
Henry pulled his horse to a halt.
Claire did the same.
What was he thinking? If they were being chased, their best bet was surely on their horses.
But she trusted him.
He jumped off his steed and reached for her.
She slid easily into his arms.
Hitting the backside of each horse, he urged them to continue their flight.
“What? No!”
Henry put a finger to her lips and shook his head.
She quieted.
He grabbed for her hand and pulled her toward a rock face.
The thundering hoofbeats became louder. They hadn’t a chance without their horses.
As they neared the cliffside, she spotted an opening in the stonework, nearly hidden by the trees. A cave!
Henry led her to the carved out shelter. Pausing by the entrance, he popped his head in before urging her to follow as he led the way inside.
Once in the small space, he gathered her into his arms and pulled her farther still until there was nothing of her feet or dress near the opening.
She leaned on his chest. His heart raced. How could that be? He appeared so calm, so collected. His heart betrayed him though—Henry was as fearful as she.
Who pursued them? Her father was still away on business. Would Abraham have betrayed her? What would happen if they were caught?
Her heart was in her throat, making it difficult to swallow, or even breathe.
But she listened as the horses neared. The sound of many hoofbeats surrounded them.
She held her breath.
Could they see the cave?
Would they be fooled by Henry's trick?
Henry held her more tightly, pressing his face into her hair.
The thundering of the footfalls did not pause, but continued on past and into the distance.
As they did so, Henry's chest rose and fell more steadily. He took deeper breaths and his hold on her loosened.
Still, they remained as they were for several minutes. Only then did Henry stretch out his limbs.
Claire did the same, letting out a long breath.
Henry maneuvered his form in the small space until he could exit ahead of her.
Once outside, he held a hand up for her to halt.
She did so. All she could see of him was from mid-chest to his knees. Was he was checking the area for any sign of their pursuers?
After some moments, he waved for her to come forth. She did so, moving slowly. The moon shone brighter as she stepped out. Or was it that the day was breaking?
Henry took her hand and they moved westward.
What would they do without horses? Make their way to the nearest town? And then what?
They walked in silence for perhaps fifteen minutes before the sound of hooves again descended upon them.
Henry pulled her to himself and turned, scanning the area.
Was there nowhere for them to hide?
The horses with their riders appeared from the southwest, racing toward them.
Henry met her gaze. There was sadness in his eyes.
Couldn’t they run? It would be a futile effort. And perhaps get them killed. Would they be shot anyway?
The men on horseback surrounded them. Hammers cocked on their guns as they aimed at Claire and Henry. What for? They were helpless.
The circle parted and her father stepped through.
A fire ignited in the pit of her stomach. How dare this man deny her a future of her choosing!
Pa glared at her as if she were the one in the wrong. “I wish it didn’t have to come to this.”
“Come to what?” she yelled.
Pa’s eyes widened. He halted and stared at her.
Claire stepped in front of Henry, though he tried to keep her behind himself.
“What will you do, Pa? Shoot me the way you shot Grace?”
Silence filled the air.
Pa opened his mouth but nothing came forth.
“Am I nothing more than that to you? A possession? Chattel?”
She prepared for his ire, for his anger to burn at her words. But as she fairly spit the words at him, his face became difficult to discern.
“What will it be, Father? Will you have me shot?”
He turned his back to her and lowered his head.
>
Henry pulled Claire back into his arms and spoke soothing words, rubbing hands over her arms.
Yet she continued to watch her father. His shoulders slumped and a hand went to his face. What was this?
Pa spun back to Claire, his face a mask. He walked toward her, his gun in hand.
“Do you not realize? This is not how this should be.” His voice, once laced with anger, was now timid.
“What of my desires? Do they matter not to you?” She once again tried to step in front of Henry, but his arms surrounded her, protecting her.
Pa stopped his advancing steps. He looked toward the ground, nodding. When he met Claire’s gaze again, there was something sad in his eyes.
“All my life,” Pa said, his voice breaking. “I worked to create a legacy. And I wanted to pass it on to you, to secure your comfort. It never occurred to me that you would want no part of it.”
Claire turned away, unable to watch her father’s pained expression.
“But you are all that will be left of me in the world. And I don’t want to trap you in a loveless marriage. You deserve to be loved. You deserve to be happy.” Pa’s voice hitched on the last word.
Claire met his eyes. They glistened.
He approached her again, releasing the rifle’s hammer and setting it on the ground.
“So, no. I will not see you shot. I would see you married.”
Pa stopped within arms length of Claire.
“To the man of your choosing.”
Claire's breath caught in her throat. “You mean that?”
Pa nodded. “Please…” Pa choked on the word. “Please, Daffodil. Come home. Let me make things right.”
Could she trust him? She looked at Henry.
He gave her arm a squeeze and nodded.
Claire turned to her father. “I will, Pa.” She moved toward him and allowed him to embrace her.
“I love you, Daffodil. I’m sorry about everything.”
“Me too, Pa. Me too.”
Chapter Six
At Peace
BREATHE. JUST BREATHE.
Claire closed her eyes and took a moment for herself.
This was the much anticipated day. It all came down to this one day, this one moment.
Once Claire stepped into the church, she would be led down the aisle to her groom. Something tingled through her from her core to the edges of her limbs. Nerves? A wave of something akin to excited fear passed through her.
Leaving Waverly: Novella Page 6
