“Were you worried about me?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Yes. No.” She pressed her lips together. “Uncle Richard said he’d shoot anyone he caught helping the runaways, and when you didn’t come right way, I thought…” She took another breath. “Forget I ever said anything.”
He stepped closer, his hands cupping her face. She breathed again, but this time, her lungs filled of him, of wood smoke and soap. Jorgine leaned into him. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. It was nothing as dire as all that, but I can understand why you’d be upset. Your uncle should be taken out and horsewhipped for saying such a thing in front of you.”
Relieved yet feeling awkward, Jorgine stepped out of his embrace. “He didn’t really say it in front of me.”
“You were eavesdropping?”
“You don’t have to make it sound so vulgar.” She shoved her valise at him.
Hudson took the case then offered her his arm. “I just didn’t expect a lady like you to lower yourself to that level.”
“How do you think women find out half the things they do? Their husbands and fathers certainly don’t tell them.”
Laughter rumbled in his voice. “Well played.”
She dismissed the tiny irritation she felt and pressed on. “You never told me what kept you.”
Any note of humor was gone when he spoke. “The passengers arrived early.”
“Early?” Her skirts caught on a downed limb as Hudson hurried her into the forest. “But they weren’t supposed to be here until after midnight.”
Twigs snapped beneath his boots. “The conductor got wind of a raid that was planned for tonight. He thought it best to move them as quickly as possible.”
A raid. She’d never considered that possibility. “That was smart thinking on his part to move them like that.” Jorgine stopped, Hudson’s blistering pace leaving her out of breath. “Could you slow down just a bit?”
“I’m sorry.” His words came out a bit breathless. “But we have a situation with one of the runaways, and we need to get back as soon as possible.”
Her heart sped up. “What kind of situation?”
Was it her imagination or had Hudson gone a shade paler? “One of the women who arrived this afternoon is laboring with her child.”
“Oh dear. That is a problem. Aren’t there other ladies to help her?”
Hudson shook his head as he gently pushed her forward. “There’s only an older woman who is blind, from what I can gather.”
Nerves jangled around in her stomach. “What about her husband?”
His hesitation sent a pang of despair through her chest. “Beaten to death a few days ago. It’s why the woman ran. She didn’t want her baby born into that.”
Jorgine couldn’t blame her. The thought of a child being born into forced servitude sickened her. This woman needed her. But should she tell Hudson her only birthing experience had been in the stables? No, he had enough to worry about now. Jorgine picked up the pace. “I’m going to need a small fire and clean water.”
“We can’t chance building a fire, not with the raiders still out there.” Concern crept into his voice. “And the only well on the property is polluted.”
“Then we’ll have to make do with creek water.” She yanked at her snagged skirt, and it ripped. “As long as I have a lantern to clean the scissors, I can manage.”
“Are you sure?”
Poor man. She knew how he felt. Right now, she wasn’t certain about anything. “Papa always said a baby has a way of making grown-ups feel completely helpless, yet hundreds are safely born every day.”
“My papa has said much the same thing.” He gave her a slight smile. “Doesn’t really matter when it’s happening, does it?”
As they broke into the clearing, a loud moan from the larger of the two sheds rent the air. Whether they were ready or not, this child would be born. Turning to Hudson, she gave him what she hoped was her most confident smile as she took her valise. “Would you do something for me?”
Chapter 7
Hudson watched as Jorgine slipped inside the wooden structure, the rustle of her skirts against the floor oddly comforting. She had shown no apprehension at the thought of delivering a child in such primitive conditions. Other women of his acquaintance would’ve protested at the very idea of delivering a slave’s child. Not his Jorgine. She cared too much to leave the woman on her own.
He blinked. My Jorgine. He liked the sound of it.
“Sir, was that Miss Jorgine I seen going into that there barn?”
Hudson turned toward the man, one of several who had escaped from the fields outside of Greenwood. The last thing he needed was someone recognizing her. “What’s your name, sir?”
“Eli, sir.”
Hudson led him to the far side of the clearing, out of hearing distance of the others. When he was certain no one had followed, he turned to the man. “Would you mind telling me why you want to know who the lady is?”
The man slipped off his hat, holding it between clenched fingers. “Iffen that was Miss Jorgine, I’d like to say hello and thank her for all she done.”
“Thank her?”
“Yes, sir. You see, Master Emerson was my master up until he passed a few years back.” Eli’s face grew sober. “That sure was a sorrowful time for all of us, none as much as Miss Jorgine. But the day after she buried her papa, she called us all together and told us we be free.” He pushed his hand into his pants pocket and pulled out a coin. “Gave us each a twenty-dollar gold piece. Said it would help us get to where we be going.”
Bowing his head slightly, Hudson smiled. The woman would give the last stitch of clothing on her back if she thought it would help. “Why didn’t you leave?”
Eli shook his head. “Couldn’t just leave Miss Jorgine with a crop in the field and no one to pick it. Truth be told, there weren’t no kinder man than Master Emerson, and Miss Jorgine is cut from the same cloth.” His eyes narrowed. “Can’t say the same about the master’s brother.”
Hudson’s head shot up. “You’re not at Piney Brooke?”
“No, sir. Master was barely cold in his grave before Master Richard and his men came to collect us. Told us we be his property now.” His voice grew gruff. “Old Silas tried to tell Master Richard we Miss Jorgine’s to do with as she sees fit. Master Richard pulled out his pistol and shot old Silas dead right then and there.” Eli met his gaze. “I figured it was time to take my leave.”
None of this made sense. As her father’s heir, Jorgine could do whatever she wished with her property, regardless of Richard’s guardianship. Then how could the man legally declare these people were his property?
Unless part of his agreement with the Wakefields was that the courts would make Richard his brother’s heir. With his connection in the state house, Win had enough leverage to pull it off.
Fury swamped through him at the thought that someone would take advantage of Jorgine. If Richard and the Wakefields could get away with this, what else would they try? “Jorgine isn’t at Piney Brooke alone, is she?”
“No, sir. Big Jim, Miss Jocelyn the cook, and Sally stayed behind.”
An old man and two helpless women. No one to keep Jorgine safe. Was that why she’d learned how to shoot? He wouldn’t put it past her. She’d see it as her sacred duty to protect her home and those she loved.
Hudson glanced at Eli and nodded. “It was Miss Jorgine. She’s helping out until we can arrange for Sally to escape.”
“Then she has heard the rumors about Mr. Wakefield?”
“Yes,” he conceded. How he wished he could have protected her from hearing the sordid news about her fiancé. But then she never would have come in search of help, and he wouldn’t know the woman she’d become. “She’s tending to one of the women right now. Once she’s finished, I know she’ll be happy to see you.”
“Thank you.” Eli turned toward the clearing then stopped and faced Hudson. “Sir?”
“Yes, Eli?”
“Take care of Miss Jorgine. The good Lord don’t make them no better than her.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her.” Hudson nodded. With his life if need be. “I’d better get that water she wanted or she’ll come after me and tan my hide.”
Eli chuckled. “Master always said if Miss Jorgine had been born a boy, she would have made a fine general, the way she likes to take over things.”
Yes, she was bossy, but always with the best intentions and a kind heart. A woman he could love.
Minutes stretched to hours, punctuated by prolonged moans and the occasional scream. Hudson leaned against the doorframe, strangely comforted by Jorgine’s muffled words of instruction and encouragement. The conductor—a Mr. Mims—had arrived almost an hour ago, prepared to ferry their passengers to the next stop. Both had agreed the group should move on with Mims circling back to collect the mother and child once the baby was born. The raiders could be on their trail even now, so the farther the group was away from Anderson County, the safer they would be.
“Breathe, Lizzie. That’s it. You’re doing good.”
Jorgine’s voice fell gently against his ears, soothing as a long, cool dip from Sweetwater Creek after a day in the fields. She was more than he’d ever suspected. She loved deeply the person, not their position. Cared about their character, not the color of their skin.
“Hudson?”
“I’m here.” He pressed closer to the door. “What is it, sweetheart?”
“I need you.” There was a weariness to her voice now. Poor thing, she had to be exhausted. “I wouldn’t ask, but…”
“I’ll do whatever you want me to.” And he meant it, not just for this moment but for the rest of his life.
“Thank you.” Her little sigh of relief warmed him. If only he could take all her burdens away so easily. The wooden latch unhinged from its bearings, and Jorgine opened the door. “I know it is unseemly to ask. I should be able to handle this myself, but…”
Hudson cupped her cheek, her warmth seeping into his fingertips before lodging in his chest. “This is an unusual circumstance, sweetheart.”
His heart soared as she leaned into him as if drawing strength from his nearness. The urge to take her in his arms, to kiss the tiny crease between her brow, grew with each passing moment. Would she spurn his attentions? Or grow soft in his embrace?
A moan toward the back of the room forced him to drop his hand and step back. “What do you need me to do?”
Handing him the lantern, Jorgine wordlessly led him to the farthest corner of the building where a young woman, her rounded stomach bare and glistening with perspiration, lay writhing on the straw-covered floor. With a short breath, she blew out a deep moan, the muscles of her belly tightening with the contraction.
“Lizzie has done a wonderful job, but she’s tired and this baby’s begging to be born.” Jorgine sank down on the floor beside the woman. Taking her handkerchief from her wristband, she mopped her face and neck. “If you could sit behind her and hold her up, that might give her the strength to push the baby out.”
Hudson crouched down behind Lizzie, stretching out his legs on either side of hers, then pulled her back against his chest. “Hello, Miss Lizzie. I’m Mr. Hudson. We met earlier tonight.”
The woman blew out a puff of air. “I remember.”
“If it’s all right with you, I’m going to help Miss Jorgine deliver your baby.”
Hudson felt her muscles clench. “I’s don’t care as long as someone gets this stubborn child born!”
He glanced up at Jorgine, who gave him a grateful smile and then turned her attention back to Lizzie. “All right now. This little one is ready to meet his mama, but you have to push, dear.”
The woman collapsed against his chest. “I can’t, Miss Jorgine. I is too tired.” Her head rolled from side to side. “Lord Jesus, help me!”
“Yes, Lord, please help Lizzie,” Jorgine began as she pulled what looked to be the remains of a silky petticoat over the lower part of the woman s body. “She’s worked hard, Lord, and she’s tired and ready to meet her baby. Use this child in a mighty way to bring glory to Your kingdom. In Jesus’ name.”
Lizzie grabbed his hand, and he held it. “Yes, Lord, use my child for Your glory.”
“Amen,” Hudson whispered as Lizzie leaned into him and pushed.
For the next few moments, the world faded away and the only sounds he heard were Lizzie’s pained cries and Jorgine’s gentle words of encouragement. He’d never known the struggle a woman goes through birthing a child into the world, nor the beauty of it. When it was time, his wife would not go through this alone. He would be there, cooing silly words of love and encouragement, holding her hand, being a part of the miracle they’d created together.
Jorgine reached for clean toweling and her scissors. “One more push, Lizzie.”
Hudson followed her movement as the woman hunched her body, her groan reverberating through to his chest. He lifted his gaze just in time to see Jorgine’s face relax, her eyes aglow with a mixture of awe and profound joy. A tiny mew filled the room as she rubbed the baby vigorously, the smile on her lips almost angelic. “You have a healthy son, Lizzie.”
“A boy,” the woman whispered as if those were the most beautiful words ever spoken. “My Joe always wanted a son.”
Jorgine slid the shawl she’d been wearing from her shoulders and wrapped the child in it before handing him carefully to his mother. “Your Joe would have been proud of you.”
Joy so profound she could barely contain it spread across Lizzie’s tired face as she drew her son to her chest.
Hudson stood, his throat tightening with emotion. What would it be like to witness the birth of his own son? He glanced at Jorgine. He could almost imagine her with their child, looking at him with so much love it stole his breath just thinking of it. He cleared his throat. “What will you name him?”
Lizzie spread the edges of the shawl to take full measure of her son. When she drew her finger across his tiny palm, he grasped it, making her wide smile grow even more. “Joseph after his papa. And George after Miss Jorgine here.”
“Joseph George.” Hudson smiled.
Jorgine sniffled beside him, and he turned. Tiny drops of moisture glistened in her lashes. When she caught him looking at her, she blushed. “I’ve never had a baby named after me.”
Hudson wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to his side. “It’s a good, strong name like his namesake.”
“Thank you, Miss Jorgine. You too, Mr. Hudson. I’m much obliged,” Lizzie said as she ran a finger through the boy’s feathery black hair.
“I’m just glad we were here to help.” Hudson felt bereaved as Jorgine slipped out of his embrace and walked over to her valise. She pulled out a large cotton sheet, shook it out, and then covered Lizzie and her baby with it. “Once you get him fed, you both need to rest.” She turned to Hudson. “When will the conductor be back to collect her and the baby?”
“A couple of hours.” Hudson picked up Jorgine’s valise while she collected soiled linens. “With the raid last night in Abbeville, you and your son won’t be safe until we get you out of Anderson County.”
Lizzie nodded, never taking her eyes from her son. “Y’all best be getting some rest too.”
When Jorgine returned from disposing the soiled linens in the corner, Hudson took her hand and walked her out. As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, she leaned back against the wooden surface, almost as if it was the only thing keeping her from crumpling to the floor.
Dropping the case, Hudson stood in front her. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”
Jorgine closed her eyes and sucked in a shallow breath as if it was the first time she’d breathed all day. “I’ve never been so scared in my entire life.”
Jorgine scared? “I don’t believe it.” Resting his hands on her slender shoulders, he tilted her head back, enjoying the loveliness of her face. “What you did was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen in
my life.”
She opened her eyes to search his. “The truth is I’ve never delivered a baby before. Papa wouldn’t allow me in the birthing rooms when my friends began having children. Said it was no place for a lady.”
“It seems to me your father underestimated you very badly.” Hudson stroked her cheek. “What would he have said at the strength and resolve you’ve shown these past few months?”
“I’d hope he would be proud of me.” She grimaced. “Still, I shouldn’t have kept my inexperience from you, but I didn’t see the point in both of us worrying.”
He pushed a loosened curl behind her ear, the soft shell a tempting place to leave a kiss. “You couldn’t have done a finer job, sweetheart. Do you believe me?”
Jorgine nodded slightly then gave him a tremulous smile. “We delivered a baby!”
Smiling back at her, Hudson cupped her face in his hands. “Yes, we did.” Before he could think, he leaned down and kissed her.
Chapter 8
You’ve been awful quiet today,” Sally commented as she braided a ribbon into Jorgine’s hair the next afternoon. “Something troubling you?”
Jorgine glanced at her friend in the mirror. As much as she wished she could tell her friend about the previous night, it would be a mistake. How could she possibly understand the satisfaction she’d felt at delivering Lizzie’s baby or the indescribable joy of witnessing his first breath, hearing his first cry? Tears pricked the back of her eyelids even now at the beauty of it.
Yet Hudson had shown her another kind of beauty in his tender kiss.
Jorgine shook her head. “I didn’t sleep well, that’s all.”
“Probably got your nerves all worked up about last night.” She knotted her braided hair at the nape of Jorgine’s neck then reached for the hair pins. “Big Jim was none too happy with Mr. Hudson bringing you home just before dawn. I overheard Jim tell him it wasn’t fitting for a young lady like yourself to be out with a man unless he be her husband.”
The Underground Railroad Brides Collection: 9 Couples Navigate the Road to Freedom Before the Civil War Page 32
