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

  A perfect station for Hudson’s work with the underground. “You and Sally will go berry-picking tomorrow morning, so bring a bucket.”

  “I don’t know, Hudson. What about Liv?”

  He shook his head. No sense landing them both at the end of a rope if this was a trap. “Meet me at nine tomorrow morning in the lane outside the big house.”

  Jorgine looked ready to stamp her dainty foot. Well, let her pitch a fit if she wanted, but she’d abide by his rules. After all, it wasn’t just his freedom at stake. She gave him a terse nod. “Fine, but you’re playing games with me.”

  “I could say the same for you.”

  Her lush mouth flattened. “I’ll be there at nine.”

  He nodded as he stepped aside for her to pass. She was halfway to the door when he called out, “Jorgine?”

  Her skirts rustled softly as she turned around. “Yes?”

  Hudson gave her his most wicked smile. “Don’t forget the bucket.”

  Chapter 3

  You’ve done made a bargain with the devil.” Sally jammed another hair pin into Jorgine’s thick curls as she sat at her dresser the next morning.

  She winced as the sharp metal scraped her scalp. “I know you’re angry, but it doesn’t give you the right to use my head as a pincushion.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her friend’s dark eyes met hers in the mirror. “What were you thinking, asking help from a man like Hudson Wallace? All those rumors about his women in Atlanta. The man is just…” Sally sputtered for the right word.

  “A devil. I know, but if he can help us…”

  “How do you suppose he can do that?” Sally snapped back.

  “I’m not sure.” It was a question that had plagued Jorgine all through the night. How could Hudson help her, and more importantly, why? The man had made it clear what he thought of her—another social-climbing, money-grubbing rich girl with no thought to anything except for marrying well. Yet he’d offered to help, and she’d been too desperate to turn him down.

  In truth, he was their only hope.

  Jorgine brushed Sally’s hands away and stood. “I wouldn’t have taken the chance if I didn’t believe he could help us. I want to know you’re settled before the wedding.”

  “I could stay.” She trailed after Jorgine, straightening her sleeve. “Seems you’re going to need help more than I will.”

  “I’m sure everything will be fine after the ceremony,” Jorgine said with as much confidence as she could muster. “Win’s promised that after the election, I can resign to Piney Brooke while he stays in Columbia. With my inheritance, I intend to set this place to rights, the way Papa always wanted it. The only men working the fields here will be freed men earning a living wage.”

  Sally went to the small table in the corner, poured a cup from a waiting teapot, and gave it to Jorgine as she sat down. “I wonder what Mr. Win’s going to think when he finds out. It won’t set well with him or your uncle.”

  “I don’t care.” She leaned back in her chair, feeling suddenly defeated. “They planned this marriage without a thought for what I might want. Win wants the Emerson name and my dowry, but I’m not sure what Uncle Richard gets out of the deal. It must be something huge. He wouldn’t sell me to the highest bidder unless he gets his pound of flesh.”

  Sally scrunched up her nose. “Has Mrs. Wakefield set the wedding date yet?”

  Jorgine couldn’t blame her friend. She didn’t much care for her high-handed future mother-in-law either. “No, though she did say she wants it held before the legislature goes home for the summer. That way, the senators and representatives can be in attendance.”

  “When’s that?”

  Jorgine sighed. “Two months.”

  Sally leaned forward and poured herself a cup of tea. “Your uncle Richard will be glad to hear that. He likes hobnobbing with such folks. Nothing like your daddy.”

  “No one was like Papa,” she answered quietly. Even now, five years since his passing, the grief could steal her breath. Papa had been both mother and father to her, teaching her how to run the house as well as letting her come along when he managed the fields. Yet he’d made Uncle Richard her guardian. Why? Had he not trusted her to continue his dream of freeing his slaves and making Piney Brooke a productive farm?

  “We’re here, Miss Jorgine.”

  The wagon pulled into the overgrown drive in front of what was left of the Thorndike mansion. What once was described by her father as a magnificent piece of Greek architecture stood in shambles. Broken brick lay in heaps at the bottom of what should have been a lovely stairway up to the porch. The paint left was flaking with large holes of rotted wood. Thorndike Hall held the best soil to grow cotton in all the South, but after Miss Lucille’s death and with no heirs to take charge, the place had become a place for vagrants. Even they had abandoned it after the walls started tumbling down.

  The perfect place to harbor runaways.

  Did it matter? Jorgine hopped down from the wagon then turned and reached inside for the small tin bucket and valise she’d brought. “Are you coming with me?”

  “And step on a copperhead?” She shook her head. “My mama raised me with more sense than that.”

  “But he may want to take you to a safe house right away.”

  Still, Sally stood her ground. “Then I reckon you can come back for me.”

  Jorgine rolled her eyes as she gathered her skirts in her free hand. Her friend had never been one to mince words. Still, she’d step into a nest of poisonous snakes to see Sally safely away. “Fine, then stay with the wagon. If you see anyone, head back home. Hudson will help me get home.”

  “I don’t like this.” Sally stood, staring down at the weeds. “What if some of your uncle’s men come?”

  “Then tell them you’re out picking berries.” High-stepping across the yard, Jorgine headed for the tree line. “Whistle if you see anyone, all right?”

  Sally begrudgingly nodded and settled back in the wagon, fanning herself with rapid strokes with her straw hat. With one last glance down the driveway, Jorgine slipped into the woods. It was cool under the lush canopy of newly bloomed trees, refreshing despite the heat and humidity of the late spring morning. It was almost like a day from long ago, when her papa had surprised her with a visit to Miss Lucille’s prized blueberry bushes. How safe she’d felt in her father’s arms as he lifted her to reach the higher fruit. And the taste! Never had berries tasted so good! If only Papa were here now, he’d know what to do.

  Jorgine walked for several minutes, enjoying the coolness, when she came across a freshly worn path. No one had been out here for years. What was Hudson up to?

  “Confused?”

  She jerked around, her bucket connecting with the man’s broad shoulder before she realized who it was. “Hudson, you startled me!”

  He rubbed his arm, his mouth curled up into a rakish smile. “At least you know how to protect yourself, though I’d appreciate if you would aim your bucket at someone else.”

  Was he teasing her? Maybe it would do him good to know just how much she could protect those she loved. “I know how to shoot a pistol too.”

  His eyes widened as he took her elbow and led her up the path. “I’m shocked that a lady such as yourself would acquire the skill. What does your fiancé have to say about it?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t asked him.”

  Hudson threw back his head and laughed. “Any plans to use it on him?”

  Jorgine’s lips twitched into a smile. Leave it to Hudson to tease her about such a thing. “Only if he gives me reason to.”

  He leaned his head toward her and her heart skipped a beat. “Good girl.”

  She stole a glimpse at him. He’d always been a commanding figure even when they were young. Then she’d found a refuge in his company when she and Liv had quarreled, a comforting spirit who treated her with such care and respect, it had been easy to fall in love with him before she was barely out of the schoolroom. And now? She couldn’t bea
r what he’d become—a rake and a scalawag who would break a woman’s heart.

  Jorgine shifted away from him. “It’s not every day I go traipsing through the woods.”

  “Let’s hope not.” His voice hummed with humor. “People might get the idea that there’s something out here.”

  “Is there?”

  The playful spark in his eyes dulled as he shook his head. “Just an old blueberry bush as far as I know.”

  She’d known Hudson long enough to know when he was hiding something. “I don’t believe you.”

  If he was insulted, he masked it well. “Are you calling me a liar, Jorgine?”

  “I’m sure you’ve been called much worse.”

  He chuckled as he pushed a low-lying tree limb out of their way. “Such a sharp tongue for the future wife of a state senator. What will they think of you in Columbia?”

  “I don’t know and don’t care.” Jorgine lifted her skirts to step over a fallen tree. “I won’t be accompanying my husband to the capital. I’ll be here, managing Piney Brooke with Big Jim.”

  “Not a love match then.” His mouth, so relaxed and laughing moments ago, had thinned into a stiff line. “I can see what Win would get out of such a connection. The Emerson name holds a great deal of prestige in the South, which he’ll need if the rumors are true that he’s considering a run for the presidency. Then you would be first lady of the land.” His heated gaze raked over her, making her wish she hadn’t left her fan in the wagon. “With your considerable charms, I wouldn’t leave you at Piney Brooke if I were your husband.”

  Jorgine swallowed against the tightness in her throat. He had no right to talk to her in such a way, yet his words gave her a vague sense of pleasure. “My considerable charms?”

  His fingers tightened on her elbow. “I know beautiful women. Remember?”

  The comment felt like a splash of cold creek water. She must be crazy with worry to consider working with Hudson, but she had no other choice. “How are you going to help Sally escape?”

  He must have sensed the change in her because he straightened, then released her elbow and held out his arm to her. “Come with me.”

  Jorgine glanced back toward the road. “But Sally…”

  “Is fine,” he answered. “Or she was when I checked on her a few minutes ago.”

  Hudson had looked in on her friend? “That was kind of you.”

  “I have been known to be that way at times.” He held out his arm to her again. “Please, come with me.”

  Jorgine stepped back, crossing her arms around her waist. “Not until you tell me where we’re going and how you plan to help me.”

  Dark blue eyes glared down into hers, leaving her a little breathless. Why did the man have to be so handsome? “Jorgine, for this to work, you’re going to have to trust me as much as I have to trust you. Do you think you can do that?”

  Past experience said no, but she knew this man, believed that even after he had broken her heart all those years ago, she could still trust him. Jorgine wouldn’t rest until Sally was safe, and Hudson was her only hope.

  Jorgine took his arm. “Yes, I can do that.”

  “Good.” Hudson’s hand closed over hers. “Then let me show you how it’s done.”

  Chapter 4

  Could he truly trust Jorgine?

  It was a question that had plagued him throughout the night, really since the moment he’d opened Liv’s bedroom door to find her on the other side. She seemed genuine enough in her concern for her maid, but the slave hunters had used those tactics before with great success. They used every means possible to collect their bags of gold. Money that Win Wakefield and his family provided them when they retrieved lost “property.”

  Yet she’d as much as told him she didn’t love Win, didn’t plan on sharing a home or a life with him. She must be more innocent than he’d thought if she believed Win would leave her to manage Piney Brooke. No man in his right mind would desert such loveliness, especially his wife. That she had a keen mind and a sharp wit would only endear her to those in Wakefield’s circles, an asset that could win him the White House.

  “Should we get Sally?” Jorgine asked, interrupting his thoughts. “I assumed you’d be taking her with you today.”

  He could understand how Jorgine had reached that conclusion, asking her to bring her maid along. But he had to make certain she was being honest with him. “I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed.”

  “But…”

  He might be willing to trust her with his life, but he wouldn’t endanger his charges, not just yet. “There will be time later.”

  She breathed out a long sigh. “In other words, not today.”

  Hudson always knew Jorgine was a smart girl. “Be patient.”

  Her hand gripped his arm as if to impress on him the urgency of the situation. “I marry Win in two months’ time. After that, I can’t protect her.”

  “You could always hit him with a bucket.”

  “Well, there is that.” She bowed her head slightly but not before he caught her mouth curve into a small smile.

  Why did her smile make him feel so…elated? As if sharing her burden had somehow lightened his own? Strange, he’d never felt that way before, but then, Jorgine always had a way of playing on his emotions. “For now, we need to fill your bucket.”

  “I thought Miss Lucille’s bushes would have died from neglect.”

  “They’ve been resurrected.”

  Her eyes met his, and his breath snagged in his chest. When had her eyes become such a silky shade of blue with threads of silver? Resigned, yet full of hope. Hudson’s chest tightened. Wakefield had better understand the treasure he had in Jorgine or…What?

  “You had them pruned last winter.”

  Her statement jarred Hudson from his thoughts. He cleared his throat. “Pruned them myself on one of my visits home. I wanted to make certain they produced this year.”

  “Why?” She glanced up at him. “Mount Paran always has a good crop of berries, and even with the number of people in your household, I can’t see how you could use all those preserves.”

  Jorgine had never seen people starved for food, had never known how much a handful of berries could mean to a person who hadn’t eaten in days. But then, how could she possibly know what these people had endured? It was a lesson she’d soon learn firsthand. “The people that I help, some haven’t eaten in days when they arrive here. Most arrive at my station with barely the clothes on their back. They don’t have time to hunt for food. Some barely have the strength to eat.”

  “But they’re fed at the stations?” She hesitated as if gathering her thoughts. “You can’t expect them to keep running without food in their bellies.”

  The outrage in her voice set his temper to flame. “Most of our departures happen at night, so building a fire, even lighting a lantern, could signal the slave hunters. As for them, they’d rather be hungry than go back to their chains.”

  Jorgine went still beside him. She could destroy him and his family with the information he’d just given her. He’d be shot, but Liv and his parents, they would suffer the most.

  “What can I do to help?”

  The question startled him. Surely she was joking. But her somber expression told him otherwise. “You can’t be serious.”

  Her expression tightened. “Why not? I can’t bear the thought of anyone going hungry any more than you can. If I can help, I want to.”

  She wasn’t thinking. She wouldn’t even consider offering if she’d thought this through. “What about your fiancé? He wouldn’t take too kindly to you feeding the very slaves his men are hunting.”

  Her face paled. “Win owns a slave retrieval business?”

  Dear heavens, did Jorgine really have no idea whom she was marrying? “Not just slave hunters. Bounty hunters as well. The largest one of its kind. His family made their fortune from it.” He couldn’t help but ask. “You didn’t know?”

  “Why would I? I’ve only met the
man once.” Her mouth trembled as her words trailed off. “How could Uncle Richard do this?” She rubbed her fingers against her forehead as if trying to think, then straightened as if she’d made her decision. “You never answered my question. How can I help?”

  Bright spots of sunlight dotted the path around them. Just beyond the last row of pine trees sat the clearing, the center of the operation. He was playing with fire, letting Jorgine into this part of his world. Sally could be ferried north, and Jorgine would be none the wiser. It was her simple request to help that had broken his resolve.

  He only prayed to God he wouldn’t regret it.

  The clearing was much like Jorgine remembered. Hundred-year-old oaks circled the field of wheat grass, the flat ground a perfect place for young children to play. Over to her left, a lush bush almost as tall as the crepe myrtle outside the kitchens at home bloomed, the ripe fruit large enough to be seen from this distance.

  But there were distinct changes too. Two wooden sheds, large enough to conceal a group of people, hid among the trees on the far side of the meadow. Near the center, a few stumps lay in primitive seating arrangements with a small fire pit in the center for warmth.

  Hudson pointed to the larger of the two buildings. “That’s where Sally will stay until the conductor comes to take her to the next station.”

  “How many people does he take at one time?”

  “It depends.” He led her closer to the first building. “We’ve had as many as fifteen or twenty at a time, but usually it’s more like two or three. A smaller number makes it easier to outrun the hunters.”

  A cold shiver ran down Jorgine’s spine. She was bound to the man who paid the hunters. She pushed the thought away. Sally and these people were what mattered now. “How can I trust the conductor to make sure Sally is safe? Who is this man? Can I meet him?”

  Hudson shook his head. “This person puts himself at great danger ferrying these people to the next station. I won’t increase their chances of being captured just to calm your fears. All I can say is to have faith, and trust me.”