He had hoped the Houstons would give him a reward or, at the very least, a fine horse to replace his roan. They’d done neither, but after selling the group of runaways Enoch and Joseph would capture this night, he promised himself the ownership of a well-bred horse.
‘‘Since they didn’t appreciate my information enough to give me one of their horses, perhaps I can convince them at least to give me a good deal on one of those fine Arabians,’’ he mused.
‘‘You talking to me? ’Cause if you are, I didn’t hear what you were saying.’’
Jumping back a step, Oliver turned and saw Mr. Kittredge bent forward, examining the hoof of a fine-looking sorrel. ‘‘You startled me.’’
‘‘Did I now? I’d think you’d be expecting to see me in this place since I own it,’’ Kittredge said with a hearty laugh. ‘‘You needing a horse?’’
‘‘Yes. I won’t be taking my wagon.’’
Kittredge nodded. ‘‘Want to take this sorrel out and give him some exercise? I’m boarding him for a few weeks. Thought I’d get him out earlier today, but I got too busy. Won’t charge you for the use if you give him a good run.’’
‘‘Be glad to help you out,’’ Oliver replied. He smiled at his good fortune and waited as Kittredge deftly saddled the animal.
He mounted the horse and kept the animal at a trot until they reached the outskirts of town. With more force than he’d intended, Oliver dug his heels into the horse’s flesh and sent the animal into a gallop. He didn’t slow the horse until they neared the overgrown path leading to the abandoned farm, where he hoped Enoch and Joseph were merely doing as he said—remaining well hidden. However, if the two of them hadn’t yet returned, all would be lost—at least with this group of runaways. The thought of such a monetary loss was something Oliver didn’t want to consider.
To the untrained eye, the farmstead appeared deserted. Oliver squinted and gazed toward the barn. Stars twinkled, and a sliver of moonlight shone brightly from the cloudless sky to reveal an unhitched wagon alongside the barn. His horse neighed, and Oliver drew back on the reins as Joseph lifted himself from the wagon bed and aimed his weapon directly at Oliver.
‘‘Put that thing down before you kill me, Joseph!’’ Oliver called. ‘‘What’s that wagon doing outside the barn?’’
Joseph jumped down from the wagon as Oliver approached on horseback. ‘‘I’m using it to keep watch. Appears it worked, ’cause I got the drop on you.’’
Annoyed by his smug attitude, Oliver ignored his comment and rode into the barn. ‘‘Where’s Enoch?’’ he hollered.
‘‘Behind you,’’ Enoch replied. ‘‘Whadda’ya think of our setup to stop intruders?’’
Oliver dismounted and handed the reins of the horse to Joseph. ‘‘I think you’d be much wiser to do as I told you—remain hidden, and if anyone approaches, stay out of sight until you’re certain they’re gone. Instead, you put that wagon out there in plain sight, and Joseph draws his weapon on anyone riding onto the property. Don’t you two see how that might cause suspicion? Sometimes I wonder why I ever brought the two of you in on this deal.’’
Enoch lit the stub of a candle, which illuminated the small area of the barn where they stood. ‘‘You needed us, that’s why,’’ he said simply. ‘‘You can rant and rave at us all you want, but you know we’ve done a good job. We got all them darkies sold at a good price and got back up here in less time than you ever figured.’’
‘‘Besides, we’re the ones taking all the risk and doing the hard part of this job. Ain’t no reason for you to be complaining about nothin’,’’ Joseph remarked as he pulled a small knife from his pocket and began using the blade to clean his fingernails.
‘‘You two had best remember that the information about the runaways comes from me. Without me, you’ve got nothing but an empty wagon. Speaking of the good price you got for that bunch, how about turning over my share right now.’’
Enoch walked across the barn while holding the stubby candle in one hand. Oliver watched as he entered one of the ramshackle stalls and pulled a leather pouch from his saddlebag.
‘‘Your share,’’ Enoch growled, tossing the bag at Oliver.
Oliver dumped the contents onto the dirt floor and began counting. ‘‘Doesn’t appear you got such a good price if this is my half.’’
‘‘Half?’’ Joseph yelled, jumping to his feet. ‘‘You’re lucky we’re giving you a third. What makes you think you’re entitled to half?’’
Oliver turned to Enoch. ‘‘We agreed I’d get half and the two of you would split the other half, didn’t we, Enoch?’’
Enoch nodded. ‘‘We did. But our agreement was unfair and you know it. I guess you can take what we’re offering or nothing at all.’’
‘‘And what if I turned the two of you in to the marshal?’’
‘‘You ain’t gonna do that—we know it and so do you. Greed ain’t a pretty thing, Oliver. You need to remember there’s two of us, and we plan to stick together,’’ Joseph said in a menacing tone.
Oliver gathered the money and shoved it back into the pouch. ‘‘Fine. We’ll go with an equal split, but you two had best not cheat me. And remember, without my information, there’s no more money for either of you. Now get the horses hitched. There’s another group coming through tonight.’’
‘‘Tonight? I thought they wasn’t due for three more days,’’ Joseph said.
‘‘The plans changed. I got word they’re coming through tonight.’’
‘‘When and where?’’ Enoch asked.
‘‘About five miles down the road. They should come through around midnight, but we need to get hidden well before they arrive.’’
‘‘You shoulda told us when you first got here instead of wasting time talking and worrying about your money,’’ Joseph said.
‘‘Is that my roan you’re using?’’ Oliver asked Enoch while ignoring Joseph’s condemnation.
‘‘Yep. Sure is.’’
Oliver bristled at his casual reply. ‘‘I told you to board him down south and purchase another horse. Plenty of folks around here recognize that horse.’’
‘‘We ain’t got time to argue about it now,’’ Joseph snarled. ‘‘We best head out or them darkies are gonna be long gone ’fore we get there.’’
Once Oliver departed, Elinor donned her bonnet and woolen cape. She truly couldn’t afford the expense of a carriage but walking to the Donohues’ was out of the question. She hurried toward town. If good fortune was with her, she’d locate a carriage for hire near the train depot. She drew closer to the Merrimack House and watched as several passengers stepped out of a carriage and entered the hotel. Boldly, she approached the driver as he unloaded a satchel.
‘‘I need to hire a carriage immediately,’’ she said.
‘‘Soon as I unload one more trunk, I can take ya.’’
Elinor watched, pacing back and forth as the driver wielded the trunk onto his shoulder and carried it inside the hotel.
‘‘Where to?’’ he asked as he returned moments later.
‘‘The Liam Donohue residence.’’
The driver scratched his head and gazed heavenward. ‘‘Dono-hue,’’ he muttered.
‘‘The property adjoining the Houston horse farm.’’
‘‘Oh! Right you are. I’ll have you there in no time.’’ The driver slapped the reins and urged the horses into a gallop that jolted Elinor’s head against the back of the seat.
The driver was good to his word. He drew the team to a halt in front of the Donohue residence. After handing her down from the buggy, she rushed up the steps and rapped on the door several times before banging the metal door knocker.
‘‘I’m comin’! I’m comin’!’’ Liam shouted before pulling open the door.
‘‘Mr. Donohue, I must talk to you!’’ Elinor exclaimed.
‘‘Ya need na shout, lass. I’m right here in front of ya,’’ he said with a grin. ‘‘Come on in and sit ya down in the parlor. I’ll fetc
h me wife.’’
Daughtie was already midway down the hall. ‘‘What is it, Liam?’’ she asked while wiping her hands on a checked cotton dishtowel.
‘‘Mrs. Brighton’s needin’ to have a word with us.’’
The couple sat down and gave her their full attention, Liam leaning forward like a cat ready to pounce.
‘‘I’ve something terrible to tell you,’’ Elinor said, her tears already beginning to flow.
‘‘Ya do na need ta be weepin’, lass. Hard it is to be understandin’ a cryin’ woman.’’
Daughtie poked him in the side and then offered Elinor a handkerchief. ‘‘Take your time, Elinor. Breathe deeply. I’m certain nothing has happened that can’t be set aright.’’
Her tone was soft and kind, and Elinor responded with a feeble smile. ‘‘You’re wrong on that account. You see, I’m responsible for the capture of the last group of escaped slaves coming through.’’
Liam gave her a patronizing smile. ‘‘I do na think a wee lass like yarself was able to accomplish that feat.’’
‘‘No, but I gave information to the man who was responsible.’’
‘‘Ya what?’’ Liam shouted. ‘‘Why would ya do such a thing?’’
Elinor shrank back in her chair. ‘‘It wasn’t intentional. I thought he could be trusted—that he was working for the cause, but I’m now certain he’s the one responsible for their abduction.
I, however, am equally at fault, for had I not told him, those poor runaways would now be free.’’
‘‘Are ya willin’ to tell us the name of this man?’’
‘‘Oliver Maxwell,’’ she whispered.
‘‘The shoe peddler?’’ Daughtie asked.
Elinor nodded and then explained how she had unwittingly taken Oliver into her confidence, watching Liam’s and Daughtie’s changing expressions as they listened intently. ‘‘Because I wasn’t certain of his involvement, I set a trap for Oliver this evening,’’ she said as she finished her sad confession.
‘‘Wha’ kind of trap?’’ Liam asked.
‘‘I told him another group of runaways was expected tonight, that they would be passing through the same route as the first group. If he’s guilty as I suspect, he’s already out there waiting for them.’’
‘‘Yet he may very well be at home snug in his bed,’’ Daughtie remarked.
‘‘Aye. I can see there’s some coincidences tha’ make ya wonder if the man is true, but we need ta be findin’ out if he’s the black heart ya believe him ta be,’’ Liam said. ‘‘If this shoe peddler is the culprit, then ’tis true ya’ve made a terrible error in judgment.’’
Daughtie gave Elinor an encouraging smile. ‘‘Let’s hope he’s not the guilty party.’’
‘‘But I’m certain he is! Can’t you see the depth of my transgressions?’’
‘‘ ’Tis true that if ya’re right, many a person has suffered fer yar error—and will suffer for a long time ta come. But ya can na change things. Ya’ve done right by comin’ ta me and tryin’ to set things aright. Thar’s no doubt we all make mistakes in judgment.’’
‘‘But my mistake is greater than those made by others. All those slaves who were tasting freedom are now back in captivity, likely suffering from an overseer’s whip—all on my account,’’ Eli-nor moaned.
‘‘If we find that what ya’ve told us is true, it’s the shoe peddler that’s ta blame,’’ Liam said. ‘‘I’m na discountin’ the fact that ya had a loose tongue, but yar heart was right. Ya were tryin’ ta get shoes for the runaways, and that was an admirable thing.’’
‘‘I fear the depth of my transgression is as deep as Oliver’s,’’ Elinor said as she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket.
‘‘Ya judge yarself too harshly, lass. Thar’s nothing tha’ can na be forgiven by God.’’
‘‘Liam’s right. There’s no doubt you made a mistake, Elinor, but you didn’t intentionally set out to harm the runaways or aid in their capture. Oliver preyed upon you, realizing you were a member of the antislavery movement who might divulge important information. Unfortunately, he was correct. But God will forgive you if you’ll but ask.’’
‘‘I don’t know if I can forgive myself,’’ Elinor said, tears beginning to once again roll down her cheeks.
Liam jumped to his feet. ‘‘I’m goin’ for Rogan. We’ll ride out to the narrows and see if thar’s any sign of Oliver.’’
Daughtie stood and grasped her husband’s arm. ‘‘Promise me you’ll be careful. If there’s anyone out there, I doubt they’ll give in without a fight.’’
Elinor watched as Liam bid his wife good-bye, now wondering if coming to Liam with the information was prudent. If anything happened to Liam Donohue or Rogan Sheehan, she’d never be able to live with herself.
‘‘I should go,’’ Elinor said. ‘‘I paid the driver to wait, and I need to be back to the house before ten.’’
Daughtie walked with her to the carriage. ‘‘Pray, Elinor. Pray hard.’’
Elinor nodded. It seemed their only hope.
Liam saddled his horse and rode the short distance to the Houston farm, entering through the second set of gates leading directly to the house Jasmine Houston had had built as a wedding gift for Rogan and Kiara. Before he could dismount, the front door opened and Rogan stood in the doorway, holding a lamp in one hand and a shotgun in the other.
‘‘Who’s there?’’ he called out.
‘‘It’s Liam. I do na have time to explain. I need ya ta come with me. Bring your weapon and saddle your horse as quickly as ya can. Do na permit Paddy ta come along.’’
Kiara stepped forward and took the lamp from Rogan. ‘‘What is it, Liam?’’
‘‘Do na worry, lass. We should be back afore mornin’. A few problems with some runaways. Keep Paddy with ya. I do na want him followin’ after us like he’s done afore.’’
‘‘Ya’re riding inta danger, are ya?’’
‘‘Nothin’ we can na handle.’’
Kiara gave Liam a faint smile. ‘‘Do na let anything happen to me ’usband.’’
‘‘Ya have me word, lass.’’
Rogan clearly trusted Liam’s instincts and followed his friend’s lead as they rode in earnest through the countryside. Liam slowed his horse as they drew closer to the narrows and then signaled for Rogan to dismount.
‘‘We’ll leave the horses here and walk the rest of the way,’’ Liam said, keeping his voice low.
‘‘Are ya goin’ ta tell me what’s goin’ on?’’ Rogan asked as they settled in a clump of bushes near the narrow path that cut between two hills.
‘‘I’m na certain it’s going ta work, but Elinor Brighton has laid a trap. She thinks the shoe peddler and some others are involved in capturing the runaways. She told him thar’s a group moving through tonight. She believes we’ll find him out here waitin’ on ’em,’’ Liam whispered.
They sat waiting, hoping they’d hear something—anything. Liam’s legs began to cramp, and Rogan suggested they leave.
Liam grasped Rogan’s arm and strained forward. ‘‘Listen!’’
The voices grew louder and the two men sat quietly, eavesdropping on the conversation taking place nearby.
‘‘We’ve moved places three times now, Oliver. Looks to me like you got a bad piece of information.’’
‘‘Keep your voice down,’’ Oliver warned in a hoarse whisper.
‘‘Ain’t no need. If them runaways was coming, they’d already be through here by now,’’ Joseph snarled. ‘‘The last ones was here by eleven o’clock. It’s way after midnight by now. I’m cold and tired. Let’s get outta here.’’
‘‘I was right last time, wasn’t I? And you ended up with plenty of money, didn’t you? The two of you need to be patient. Maybe something happened along the way to slow them down.’’
‘‘Yeah. And maybe they already been captured—if there were any headed this way to begin with. Just because you was right last time, that don’t mean you g
ot good information this time. Come on, Enoch. Let’s go. You know they ain’t coming tonight.’’
‘‘He’s right, Oliver. We’re leaving. You wait if you want, but we’re heading back to the barn.’’
Oliver refused to relent, remaining in place while Enoch and Joseph rode off. He didn’t intend to wait long—there would be little he could do by himself to stop the group of runaways if they did happen along. However, he wasn’t going to concede to Joseph’s idea. They’d been gone only a short time when Oliver heard the brush rustling behind him.
‘‘Who’s there? You decide maybe I was right and come back, Enoch? Joseph?’’
‘‘Yar friends are gone, Mr. Maxwell. But Rogan and me, we been sittin’ nearby, and we heard every word the three of ya was sayin’. Seems ya got yarself involved in capturin’ runaways,’’ Liam said.
‘‘You can’t prove a thing. Besides, you’re the ones operating outside the law—helping runaways. What I’m doing is perfectly within the law. I even have the right to request the marshal’s assistance if need be. Something called the Fugitive Slave Act. Surely you don’t dispute I’m in the right.’’
‘‘You’re not returning those slaves to their rightful owners,’’ Rogan countered. ‘‘You’re selling them to the highest bidder, and that’s not legal.’’
Oliver gave him a brash grin. ‘‘Again, you have no proof of your allegations. You overheard my conversation. Do you believe the word of two Irishmen is going to be taken over my word and that of my two men when we insist every attempt was made to find the rightful owners before offering the slaves at market?’’
Liam hesitated. ‘‘You weren’t operatin’ under the Fugitive Slave Act when ya rode off with Spencer Houston and Naomi.’’
‘‘Maybe I wasn’t, but nothing that’s been said here tonight frightens me, nor do the two of you. There’s no way you can prove anything we’ve talked about.’’
‘‘So I don’t frighten ya?’’ Liam asked, grabbing Oliver by the collar and slamming him against a tree. ‘‘When ya’re countin’ off the things that can na be proved, ya might remember thar’s no way ya can prove it was me that beat that smugness outta ya on this night, is thar?’’
A Love Woven True Page 27
