The Underground Railroad Brides Collection: 9 Couples Navigate the Road to Freedom Before the Civil War

by Barbara Tifft Blakey, Ramona K. Cecil, Lynn A. Coleman, Cecelia Dowdy, Patty Smith Hall, Terri J. Haynes, Debby Lee, Darlene Panzera

  Charlotte snickered then nodded.

  “Someone will bring you food later.”

  The thought of eating turned her stomach. She was certain she turned a shade of green. “Just broth would be nice.”

  He nodded and grabbed hold of the rail. Charlotte closed the door as she heard Captain Browne call out to drop sheets. Sheets? She peeked out and saw the sailors lowering the sails farther. So sheets were sails, hmm. Maybe by the completion of the voyage, she’d understand the sailors’ language.

  A few unseemly words wafted through the storm. Perhaps not all their language, she mused. She closed the door and settled back inside the cabin. Her best bet was to lie down or sit and read. She sat down and opened her Bible. The words seemed to roll with the ship. She closed the Bible and lay down on the bed.

  As the ship calmed, Charlotte woke from her nap. She glanced at the wall clock. She’d been asleep for hours. She jumped out of bed, straightened her clothing, and opened the door. The ship was active with sailors scurrying around on the decks. The runaway slaves were on the deck too. She glanced at their hiding place. It was secure. One of the men glanced at her then looked above her to the area where the captain navigated the ship. She stepped out.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Charlotte.” Captain Browne’s voice flowed over her raw nerves like honey.

  “Good afternoon, Captain. How bad was the storm?”

  He shrugged. “Not that bad. We might be in for some weather again, so I suggest you get some fresh air while you can. If you don’t mind, I need to gather some dry clothing from my quarters.”

  She thought he’d removed his clothing the first day. Perhaps not enough. “Of course not, it is your room. Thank you again for letting me stay in there.”

  He bent at the waist. “My pleasure, miss.” He reached to take her hand but didn’t. He stood and tipped the brim of his hat. “Enjoy the calm, miss.” He slipped to her side and stepped past her and into his room.

  Charlotte grabbed hold of the railing and calmed herself. She wasn’t here to fall in love. She was here for freedom. But what did that mean? Where would it take her? What would she do?

  Zach gathered another pair of wool pants and a coat from his closet in his quarters. He scanned the room and sniffed. It had a pleasant floral odor. He couldn’t place the fragrance but knew it came from one of her perfumes or powders. Women were always fussing to make themselves more beautiful. His mind drifted out of the room and to the railing where he had left Miss Charlotte. His heart quickened. He took a deep breath and calmed himself. She was beautiful, but she was born the daughter of a plantation owner. He had nothing to offer a woman of her station. Yet he was a captain. The rank was honored among certain people of society.

  He had humble roots. Granted, his father had land and a few acres set aside for him and his family to farm one day. But how does a captain farm? Mother did most of the work. Miss Charlotte had slaves to work for her. She wouldn’t know the first thing about fending for herself or her family.

  Zach shook off such ill-conceived thoughts. Yes, she was beautiful. Yes, she cared for the slaves she helped escape, but…

  He closed his eyes for a moment then gathered his clothing and left his quarters. She stood at the rail in virtually the same position. “Miss Charlotte?”

  She turned. Tears trailed down her face. He stepped closer. “Can I help you?” His heart went out to her. He didn’t understand her tears, but he never really did understand when women cried. He just felt helpless and wanted to help.

  She shook her head and looked down at her feet. Her boots were the same pair she had worn when she arrived at the dock in Savannah.

  “Was it the storm?”

  “No, Captain. The storm was not good for my stomach, but I am wondering what I shall do when I arrive in the North. I am not trained. I was raised to be a hostess, to run a household, take care of the house slaves, and I had looked forward to having my own family one day. Now I shall not have any of those things. I pray I shall find good and honorable work. Perhaps I was rash leaving my parents’ home as I did.”

  Zach paused for a moment. She was rash. But then again, he didn’t like the idea of her being subjected to marriage to a man she did not care for all because she held different opinions than her parents. “I cannot answer those questions, but I will pray for you and for God’s guidance.”

  She smiled. His heart fluttered. What was the hold this woman had over his heart?

  “Thank you, Captain. Again, I apologize for any inconvenience I am to you, your ship, and crew.”

  “Nothing to mention, Miss Charlotte. Pray for guidance. The Lord will direct your path.”

  She nodded and turned back to the railing and scanned the deck.

  “Good day, Miss Charlotte.” He left her there, not knowing what to do or say. She certainly was in quite a predicament. What would the owners of the vessel say about my extra passenger? Zach squared his shoulders. He’d deal with that when the time came. “Do not worry about tomorrow” floated through his mind as he recalled Jesus’ teaching from his Bible reading and Sunday school. Obviously God cared more than enough to take care of Miss Charlotte once she arrived up north. But she was correct. Without skills, she would find work difficult and low paying. Zach said another prayer for Charlotte Kimbrel and slipped into the men’s quarters to change from his wet clothing into the fresh outfit. He knew most of the men would be working in their wet clothes for another hour. He needed to maintain focus and keep healthy in order to secure safe passage for his men, their cargo, and the runaway slaves, who faced challenges similar to Charlotte’s. But the runaways had skills and trades to fall back on. What would a Southern belle be capable of?

  Based on what little he’d seen over the years, not much. They were to appear pretty but let their slaves do all the hard work. He thought back on Charlotte’s hands, silky smooth, not the hands of a laborer. Zach fired up another prayer for Charlotte. How was she going to survive?

  Chapter 3

  Charlotte prayed until her knees could no longer take the hard and moving floor beneath them. She didn’t have an answer. She seemed to have more questions. The knock on her door pulled her from the spiraling thoughts.

  “Yes?”

  “Miss Kimbrel, the captain asked me to bring you your dinner. May I come in?”

  She opened the door. A small boy, perhaps ten, stood there with a plate covered with a metal lid. “Thank you.”

  He smiled. His freckled cheeks filled with joy. His red hair was similar to the captain’s. She examined him more closely. “Are you the captain’s son?”

  “No.” He shook his head then leaned in closer. “He’s my uncle, but I’m not supposed to talk about it. Can’t have the crew thinking I’m getting special favors.”

  “I see.”

  “Most of them know. We don’t hide it. But when new crewmen come on board we wait for them to learn it on their own. That way they know I’m a hard worker and not just here because my uncle is the captain.”

  “Sounds like a logical decision.” She smiled, instantly liking the lad.

  “May I?” He lifted the cover of the plate and glanced over to the table.

  Charlotte stepped back and swept her hand, ushering him inside. “Yes, thank you again.”

  “It is my pleasure. You’re a lot more pretty to look at than the sailors.”

  Charlotte giggled. “What’s your name?”

  “Bradley William Browne the third at your service.” He bowed ever so slightly then stood up straight and smiled.

  “May I call you Bradley?”

  “Brad is fine. Everyone else calls me that except for the men. They call me boy.”

  “I see. And how long have you served with your uncle?”

  “Three months. Dad is a farmer like my grandfather is now. I’m like my uncle Zach. I live for the sea. Of course, most of the men in my town work on ships, or they farm. Farming is fine, and I don’t mind it, but I love the adventure of the sea. There are so
many interesting places to go and see.” He glanced over to her dish. “You best eat your dinner now. Ain’t no telling when the wind will kick up again.”

  Charlotte placed a hand over her stomach. She wasn’t certain she wanted to eat yet.

  Brad nodded his head and smiled. “Takes a bit to get used to. But don’t you worry. You’ll get your sea legs in a couple of days.”

  “Thank you.”

  He headed for the door and turned back toward her. “You might like to take a walk on the deck tonight. The stars are brilliant, and if I’m done with my chores, I’ll be happy to show you how we navigate by the stars.”

  “That would be splendid. Thank you again. I look forward to it.”

  Brad gave one confident nod and slipped out the door.

  She went to the table and lifted the lid off her plate. Two slices of ham, a boiled potato, a roll, and a pile of grayish green beans—her least favorite vegetable—waited for her. So much for broth, she mused. Once she had been served green beans that were still green and enjoyed them. But this Southern way of boiling them for hours in bacon fat just didn’t appeal to her. Yet she loved her collard greens cooked that way. Charlotte shrugged and sat down. She placed the cloth napkin over her lap, clasped her hands, and prayed a blessing over her food.

  An hour later she made her way out to the deck and stood for a moment as her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

  “Good evening, Charlotte.” The captain’s voice slid down her spine like warm cane syrup.

  She spun around with such vigor she lost her footing. He reached out and rescued her from falling.

  “Careful, my lady. You must acquire your sea legs before moving so quickly on board a ship.” He grinned.

  She couldn’t make out the brilliant green of his eyes, but they seemed to sparkle in the moonlight.

  “Thank you. You have rescued me again, Captain.” She stood up but instantly felt a longing to be back in his arms. Instead, she brushed her upper arms.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “I’m fine, thank you. Your nephew suggested I take an evening stroll on deck and he’d show me some of the stars and how to navigate a ship by them.”

  Zachery Browne’s chest and shoulders heaved with a chuckle. “He is learning, but he has a long way to go. Perhaps I can be of assistance.”

  “That would be an honor, but I would not wish to harm young Bradley’s sensibilities in the matter.”

  Captain Browne sobered. “Thank you. He would be very happy to show you. I’ll fetch him for you.” He stepped to her left.

  She reached out her hand and touched his forearm. “I wouldn’t mind adult companionship, if you have some time later.”

  The captain nodded. “If I can, Miss Charlotte, it would be my honor.”

  What was the connection she was feeling with Captain Zachery Browne? She never would have suggested such a thing back home on the plantation. Of course, her father would have locked her in her room until she was sixty if she had made such a forward comment or gesture. Dear Lord, guard my heart.

  Zach watched as Brad shared his knowledge with Charlotte. The boy had remembered just about everything he’d taught him so far. He did misname two stars, but for three months of training, he was doing really well.

  “Cap?”

  Zach turned at the sound of Frank’s voice.

  “Do you want me to take first or second watch this evening?”

  “First. I’m going to get some shut-eye while I can. Have them wake me for the third watch.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll have Daniel take the second,” Frank offered.

  “Good.” Zach took one more glance at Brad and Charlotte and turned toward the men’s quarters. Most of the crew would be up on deck. Those who were designated for third watch would be going to sleep soon. It would help if he could fall asleep first. The hardest part of giving up his living quarters was the snores of the other men. When he was younger, he didn’t seem to notice. But since he’d been sleeping in his own quarters for a couple of years now, he enjoyed the peace.

  He rolled into the hammock, placed his hat over his eyes, and fell fast asleep.

  “Captain,” a hoarse voice whispered. Then his body was jolted. “Cap, get up.”

  Zach sat up. “Sorry, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Zach rolled out of the hammock and watched John slip in. It was the way of the ship. He headed toward the galley, poured himself a cup of thick coffee, and headed up the ladder.

  The sky was dark, the horizon darker. Soon the horizon would begin to lighten up, but not before the darkest part of the night hit. He took the lantern and glanced at his watch. Ten past four. He sipped the bitter coffee. He couldn’t put it off any longer. He needed to find a better cook for his ship. He took a second gulp of the swill and dumped the rest overboard.

  “You’re relieved.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Daniel stepped back, and Zach stepped up to the helm. “Helmsman is being relieved….” Daniel spouted out the heading and position of the rudder.

  “Helm has been relieved….” Zach finished reciting the same coordinates. “Good night, Daniel.”

  “Night, Cap.”

  Zach followed protocol for the sake of the crew and rules of the sea, but he enjoyed a closeness with his first and second mates. The Lady Grace, being a smaller schooner, had a limited crew, and Daniel had been with him for a year now.

  Zach glanced at the compass and followed the line of sight on the horizon. In front of him was complete blackness. He turned to the port and then to starboard, again nothing but blackness. He turned for a moment behind him and saw what appeared to be the red and green lights of a ship at least five miles away, perhaps more. It was a dull enough glow that he pulled the binoculars out and sought a better inspection. It wasn’t abnormal to have another ship traveling the seas at night, but when carrying runaway slaves, one took precautions. Zach called out to Daniel, hoping he hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

  A few minutes later, Daniel came out, shuffling into his jacket. “Captain?”

  “Round up the slaves and hide them.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Low or no light, Daniel.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  Daniel scurried off in the darkness.

  Zach kept steady on course. There was no need to fret and possibly no need to hide the slaves. But he didn’t want to risk it. He was still in Southern waters with North Carolina or Virginia on his port side.

  “Seaman, come grab the helm,” Zach called out to the seaman on duty for the third shift. He grabbed the sextant, glanced at his watch, and measured the angle from Polaris, the North Star, and the horizon—which at this hour was a calculated sight.

  Below, on the main deck, Zach watched the slaves work their way into the hiding place.

  Daniel returned. “All accounted for, Captain.”

  “Thank you, Daniel. Go get some rest. I suspect we’ll know more after the sun rises.”

  Daniel nodded and retreated to the crew quarters.

  Zach finished his calculations and examined the map. They were 33.8° north and 77.7° east, which put them about twenty miles east of Bald Head Island, North Carolina. Two more degrees north and they’d be changing their heading toward New York City. With his calculations done, he relieved the seaman at the helm and continued on his course. The ship behind drew closer. Zach couldn’t help but wonder if it was running under steam or was a larger vessel with more masts and sails.

  He prayed his precious cargo would be safe.

  As the sun came up over the horizon, the ship behind them was no more than an hour back.

  Miss Kimbrel came out of his quarters. She scanned the ship and smiled as she focused on him. “Good morning, Captain Browne.”

  “Good morning, Miss Charlotte.”

  She climbed up toward the helm, and her face fell as she saw the approaching ship.

  “Do not fear, Miss Charlotte. I am aware and have hidden our cargo.”<
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  She nodded. “Is there anything I should do?”

  “Could you see if the cook has made a fresh pot of coffee?” He handed her his mug.

  “I’d be happy to. Where’s the kitchen?”

  “Galley,” he corrected. “On a ship we have galleys, not kitchens.”

  “Why…” She let her words trail off.

  Zach chuckled. “It does take some getting used to. The galley is through those doors and down a deck. I’m certain you’ll find it. Just follow your nose. By now the cook should have fed most of the men.”

  Charlotte nodded and headed toward the door. A ship really wasn’t the place for a woman. On the other hand, she was a sight more pleasant to look at first thing in the morning than his crew.

  Charlotte found the galley and marveled at the small space. The pantry at her parents’ home was larger than the ship’s galley, and to think it fed nearly twenty men three times a day…How? she wondered.

  “Can I help ya, miss?” A man with broad shoulders and a once white but now very dirty apron stood by a butcher block with a knife in his hand and a hunk of red meat on the block.

  “Captain Browne asked me to fetch him some coffee.” She held up the mug as proof of her reason for being there.

  “Aye.” He pointed to the coffeepot sitting on the stove. “Over there, unless you need me to pour for ya.”

  “No. Thank you.”

  “The boy will be bringin’ ya breakfast up to the room in a bit.”

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded and went back to work slicing the red meat into small chunks. She guessed beef stew was for dinner tonight. She poured the thick black coffee into the mug and set the pot back on the stove. As she left the small area, she realized everything had a place. She supposed it needed to be that way in order to function. “Good day, sir.”

  “Good day, miss.”

  She was a few feet down the hall when she heard voices. “Ain’t right havin’ a woman on the ship.”

  “Maybe, but she ain’t bad to look at.”

  The men snickered. Charlotte hustled out of the area and up the stairs. She didn’t mind hearing comments about her beauty as much as she minded the issue of it not being right to have women on ships. Didn’t women travel? How else did female folks travel from Europe to America? She thought she had heard similar grumblings before when they were in Port Royal.