“Its Christmas Eve; let’s at least pray.” Using what little strength he had, Josiah dropped to his knees on the cold, hard floor. He wouldn’t ask for an earthquake, but getting out of jail tomorrow would be nice. Prayers tumbled from his heart as he lay down and slipped into a fretful sleep.
The next morning Josiah awoke and looked out the tiny window. A light snow had fallen during the night. Hope for a Christmas miracle filled his whole being. At least he would see Coral and Mrs. Martin, providing nothing deterred them.
Hours later, Sheriff Hansen escorted the ladies into the building. Overjoyed as he was at their presence, it tore at Josiah’s heart for Coral to see him locked up. She beamed as bright as the afternoon sun, however, and didn’t seem to be bothered.
“I finished the quilt. Josiah, please take it to keep you and Papa warm at night.” Coral held up the quilt, and he admired her handiwork. The bright colors were striking, and the pattern was intricate and beautiful.
The sheriff carried the baskets of food into the cell. Then he held the door open and allowed the ladies to walk in. He closed the door with a bang and relocked it.
“I’ll leave you folks for an hour, but don’t get any funny ideas.” The sheriff tipped his hat and was out the door.
Coral spread a red-checked tablecloth on the floor while Mrs. Martin unpacked the food. The roast turkey, potatoes, and cooked squash looked and smelled better than anything he’d ever expected to experience in a jailhouse. He’d have to thank Sheriff Hansen and pray blessings on him for the kindness he showed.
There was no tree to decorate, and no presents either, but Josiah considered it a delight to be with such fine folks on Christmas. Too soon their time together ended. Hansen strolled back into the building. The man seemed fidgety, causing Josiah to suspect something was amiss.
“Time’s up, folks; I’m sorry.” Hansen unlocked the cell door.
Mrs. Martin looked on the verge of tears but didn’t lose her graceful composure. “We know visits like this are unusual, so we thank you, Sheriff,” she said. She pulled her husband into an embrace, one Josiah hoped wouldn’t be the last.
Before Coral could step away, he wrapped his arms around her. “Pray, Coral, and trust God.”
“I have been praying, and will continue to do so.”
Hansen interrupted the moment. “Let’s go, ladies.”
He guided the women from the premises. When the ladies left, he let someone else in and then shut the door. Josiah recognized Mr. Strauss, who was still new in town. Something was up; he could sense it. The two men walked to the cell.
In a hushed voice Hansen said, “Those bounty hunters are out of town for a few days to be with their families. They don’t know it yet, but word has it that court didn’t go well for them. All charges against you two have been dropped.”
“Praise God,” Josiah said. He glanced at Sam shaking with fever on the pallet, covered by the quilt. If they weren’t out of there soon, the man might die. “How long before we’re out of here?”
“Since it’s Christmas, I’m letting you and Sam go now.”
Josiah raised his hands in the air. “The miracle I’ve prayed for, thank the Lord.” He lowered his arms, sobering. “Hansen, you won’t have any kind of trouble for doing this, will you?” he asked.
Hansen locked eyes with Josiah. “I have the paperwork signed by the judge right here. Levi just delivered it, but he said if you’re released, those men vowed to trap you again, maybe shoot you on sight.”
Josiah growled and clenched the bars so hard pain surged through his fingers.
So much for his Christmas miracle.
Chapter 10
December 31
New Year’s Eve
If God was merciful, 1841 would be a year of new beginnings.
Coral walked into Sheriff Hansen’s office. In her arms was the quilt she had labored on for so many months. Papa brought it home when he was released from jail, and Mama had enough blankets to keep him warm, so he’d given it back to her.
“Afternoon, Miss Martin.” The man stood and tipped his hat to her in greeting.
Overcome with gratitude, Coral cleared her throat, swallowed, and pushed forward before she lost her nerve. “I want to say thank you for freeing my father and Josiah.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” Sheriff Hansen’s face turned pink, and he waved a hand at her. “I was just doing what was right for two decent men. Mr. Coffin and I sent Roland on his way. I can’t make any promises, but he shouldn’t be bothering you anymore.”
“Well, I want to give this to you as my way of saying thank you.” Coral handed him her token of gratitude.
The sheriff ran his hand over it. He smiled, but shook his head and handed it back. “That’s very kind of you, Miss Martin, but I have plenty already. Give this to somebody who needs it more than me.”
Coral sighed. How many times had she prayed over this quilt? She trusted God to lead her to the right recipient, but who would that be? It wouldn’t be for her wedding to Roland, that much was certain. Papa didn’t need it to keep him warm at night now that he was out of jail and recovered from his ordeal. Sheriff Hansen didn’t seem to want it either.
She left the jailhouse and climbed into the back of the wagon. She felt dejected and hung her head. All that work on the quilt, Lord. Does anyone want it?
Papa emerged from Wilbur’s Mercantile and climbed onto the wagon seat. “Don’t look so sad, Daughter. Your mother is planning a nice dinner this evening.” He chirruped to the horses. It was a quiet ride back to the homestead.
Coral walked into the house and placed a log on the fire. Poor Mama scurried about the kitchen in a near frenzy and needed help. She basted the roast goose on the spit above the fire while Coral stirred up a chocolate cake.
Tella Sue and Gideon had spent the week resting and regaining their strength. The wounds on Tella Sue’s feet had healed, and she and Gideon were itching to go north to Canada where they could raise their daughter without the fear of her being sold off.
“I do hope you can stay just one more night.” Coral bounced the baby on her knee. She wanted a life, a love, like Gideon and Tella Sue. Like Papa and Mama. Her thoughts turned to Josiah. She wondered if he felt the same way she did. He said he’d come for dinner that night. A blush crept into her cheeks.
“Tella Sue, can you take the baby? I need to go up and dress for the party.”
The doting mother took her infant, and a smile lit up her face as if she knew why Coral wanted to look her best that night.
In the confines of her room, Coral donned her best dress. There was no lavender soap to wash with or perfume to wear, but Amos’s freedom was worth that small luxury. All the freedom seekers were.
Later that evening Josiah and Sheriff Hansen arrived.
“Sir.” Josiah addressed Papa. “Do you mind if I have a moment alone with your daughter? We won’t be but a few steps out the back door.”
Coral glanced from Papa to Mama, and back to Papa. They both smiled at her. She tried in vain to fan the heat from her face.
“Go ahead, dear,” Mama said. “I’ll set the table.”
Josiah led her into the backyard. The moon carved a small crescent of light in the coal-black sky. In the distance the creek bubbled. The tune accompanied the crickets chirping in the woods nearby.
Josiah interrupted nature’s melody. “I didn’t have the chance to shop for you since I was in jail on Christmas. I hope this makes up for it.” He pulled a box from his coat pocket.
“For me? Thank you.” Coral untied the ribbon and unwrapped a bottle of lavender perfume and a cake of lavender soap. Her heart swelled.
Josiah coughed, cleared his throat, and said in a croaky voice, “There’s more.”
More? What more could she possibly want? A kiss, perhaps. She shook her head. She shouldn’t be thinking such things.
Josiah knelt down on one knee. He pulled another box from his pocket, this one much smaller than the first. “Coral
Martin, I’ve come to care very deeply for you over these past few weeks. And I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
A host of butterflies swarmed in her middle. Tears flooded her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She giggled like a child but managed to give him an answer. “Yes!”
Josiah sprang to his full height and encircled her in his arms. “I love you, Coral. I’ll make you proud. I’m going to build you the coziest house. It won’t be a mansion but—”
He paused midsentence and then touched his lips to hers. The music of the chirping crickets, the gurgling creek, and the whinnying horses built to a crescendo in her ears. Her knees went weak. She leaned into his embrace and tasted the sweetness of his kiss.
Placing her head on his chest, she listened to the sound of his heart beating and looked to the sky. The stars glistened like diamond dust flung from one corner of the heavens to the other. She breathed a prayer of thanks to God.
Hand in hand, they walked into the house. Coral’s mind was awhirl with thoughts of a new beginning. Perhaps her quilt would be of use to her after all.
The kitchen was frighteningly quiet when they stepped back inside. Her mouth went dry. Wilbur had arrived while Josiah had proposed to her, and he bore some distressing news. Bounty hunters were back. They were angrier than ever at Josiah for getting out of jail.
“Sorry to disrupt the festivities, ma’am.” Wilbur tipped his hat to Mama. “But we need to move some packages tonight.”
Coral’s heart stumbled and then fluttered in her chest like hummingbird wings. Much as she would miss the family of freedom seekers, she wanted them safe. Wilbur was right. They needed to go.
Gideon entered the kitchen. Tella Sue followed, snuggling the baby in the same three threadbare cloths she had arrived with. Those thin pieces of material to keep a baby warm, outside, on a winter’s night?
Not if Coral could help it.
Coral bounded up the stairs and burst into her room. She flung open the lid to her hope chest and stared at the colored hexagons that made up the quilt. Slowly, she ran her fingers over the soft, smooth fabric. She closed her eyes as memories of stitching the pieces together danced in her mind. For the second time that night, tears streamed down her cheeks.
Wiping them away, she stood and pulled the heavy quilt from her hope chest. There was no time to waste. She rushed from her room and descended the stairs two at a time.
“Here, Tella Sue.” Coral held out the quilt. “Use this to keep the baby warm.”
“Oh, Miss Martin, surely you don’t mean for our child to have such a fine gift?” Tella Sue and Gideon stood wide-eyed.
“Trust me, God wants you to have this. I want you to have this.”
Tella Sue’s jaw dropped, and then her mouth snapped shut. She lifted her chin and nodded her head. “We thank you, Miss Martin. You can rest assured our baby will know the story behind this quilt and where it came from.”
Papa cleared his throat. “Finish saying your goodbyes; it’s time to go.”
When had he entered the room? Coral hadn’t noticed. Tella Sue reached out and grasped her in a hug so tight the baby yelped.
Papa and Wilbur led the family out into the night and, with God’s grace, into a promised land where fear had no place and the hounds of the enemy couldn’t touch them.
Sheriff Hansen plopped his hat on his head and said, “I’ll keep watch out front.” He crossed the room and stepped outside.
“Coral, help me finish dinner. Your father, Josiah, and Mr. Hansen will be hungry when they’re done, and it’s mighty cold out there. I’m sure they’ll want something warm to eat.”
For three-quarters of an hour Coral helped her mother. The clock was about to chime seven when she heard voices in the front yard. Feeling bolder than ever, she stepped to the front door, opened it a crack, and peeked outside.
Bounty hunters.
Sheriff Hansen stood tall and said, “There are no slaves in this house. Do you think I’d be here if any illegal activity was taking place? Now get out of my county.”
Respect for the sheriff rose in her. The man could face jail if caught aiding the runaways. While it was true, the family wasn’t there, he still took the risk when he wasn’t obligated to. After some tense minutes she watched the bounty hunters ebb into the darkness, in the opposite direction of Gideon’s family. She closed the door and dropped into a chair. What dangerous times they lived in.
A moment later, the sheriff came back inside and rubbed his hands together. He strode to the fireplace and held his fingers over the warm flames.
“That was a kind thing you did, Sheriff,” Coral said.
Sheriff Hansen cast a sideways glance at her. A shy smile spread across his face. “It was nothing.” Humility laced his gentle, quiet tone.
“I mean it,” Coral continued. “It may not seem like much to you, but it is to that family. I know that those of us here appreciate the godly man you are, your unselfishness, and all you do to stand up for what’s right.”
The back door banged open. Papa and Josiah entered.
“Are the bounty hunters gone?” Josiah asked.
Sheriff Hansen nodded.
“Thank the Lord,” Mama said. “Let’s eat.”
Coral’s family, along with Josiah, Mr. Wilbur, and Sheriff Hansen, took their places at the table. A hush fell over the room as everyone bowed their heads. She slipped her hand into Josiah’s and then closed her eyes.
Papa said the blessing. “Thank You, Lord, for all Your bounty. Please, protect Gideon and his wife and child. We ask for mercy and pray for healing upon this country that seems so bent on tearing itself apart. We pray that eyes would be opened to see nothing but Jesus in all His glory.”
Josiah squeezed her hand. She believed healing was possible for America, with large measures of God’s grace, with His compassion, with a heaping of forgiveness, and, most of all, with His love.
Debby Lee was raised in the cozy little town of Toledo, Washington. She has been writing since she was a small child and has written several novels, but never forgets home. The Northwest Christian Writers Association and Romance Writers of America are two organizations that Debby enjoys being a part of. As a self-professed nature lover and an avid listener of 1960s folk music, Debby can’t help but feel like a hippie child who wasn’t born soon enough to attend Woodstock. She wishes she could run barefoot all year long, but often does anyway in the grass and on the beaches in her hamlet that is the cold and rainy southwest Washington. During football season, Debby cheers on the Seattle Seahawks along with legions of other devoted fans. She’s also filled with wanderlust and dreams of visiting Denmark, Italy, and Morocco someday. Debby loves connecting with her readers through her website at www.booksbydebbylee.com.
The Song of Hearts Set Free
by Darlene Panzera
Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them: for this is the law and the prophets.
—MATTHEW 7:12
Chapter 1
Jersey City, New Jersey
November 1851
Annie Morrison and her dearest friend had not taken more than five steps past Morrison’s cabinet shop when Louisa clutched her arm and let out a startled gasp.
“Perhaps we should cross the street,” Louisa suggested, her voice tight. “Quick.” Annie followed Louisa Strong’s cautious gaze toward the dashing young man with brown hair who stood on the wide, bluestone sidewalk a half block ahead. He appeared innocent enough, wearing a large fold-down collar over a loosely tied cravat; a fancy shawl-collared vest; a black, loose-fitting frock coat; and fashionable plaid trousers.
“Why?” she asked, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Whatever is wrong?”
“He’s staring at me.”
Louisa made a sharp turn to cross the cobblestone street, but Annie drew her back with a swift tug. Just in time, too, for Louisa narrowly missed being run over by a
team of horses pulling a heavily laden delivery cart.
As the clattering of hooves subsided, Annie released her breath and reprimanded her friend with a sharp look. “You must be more careful.”
Louisa nodded. “Yes, everyone these days seems to be taking sides, either for or against the abolitionists.”
“I meant,” Annie clarified, “you should be more careful of the roadway. Although I do fear your nightly activities are going to get you into trouble.”
Louisa’s brows shot upward. “Do you think the young gentleman might know my secret?”
“I doubt this man suspects anything. I’d say he’s staring because he is smitten,” Annie teased.
Louisa cast another glance up the sidewalk; then her shoulders relaxed and a devilish smile played upon her lips. “I daresay you’re right.”
“You can hardly blame him, when you are so beautiful,” Annie said, eyeing the blond curls tucked into her friend’s bonnet.
“Except he’s not staring at me, like I first supposed,” Louisa said, her smile broadening. “He’s staring at you!”
Annie shot a second glance toward the handsome young man, and their gazes met for the briefest second before she let out a startled gasp of her own.
Louisa was right.
Morrison’s Cabinetry relied upon its delivery wagon to transport the custom cabinets built by Annie’s father and her brother, William. However, one of the wooden wheel axles had broken that very morning, leaving them in an unexpected bind. Thankfully, Louisa’s family had offered the use of their wagon for the day.
Annie was glad, too, for Louisa’s company. It wasn’t proper for a young lady to traverse the town alone. But together, they were free to explore the shops while Will off-loaded the cabinets they’d brought in from their countryside home to their father’s shop in the heart of Jersey City.
Her thoughts were still on the young man who had been staring at her when Will called over to her that it was time to go. She hated to leave the bustle of the vibrant city behind; its luscious smell of fresh-baked breads from the bakery, the mouthwatering taste of sweet treats from the confectioners, the soft feathers adorning the assorted hats for sale at the milliners, the ringing cadence of the blacksmith’s hammer, the clip-clop of horses’ feet, the shrill whistles of the approaching trains, and the deep, bellowing toots of the steam-powered ferries out on the river.
The Underground Railroad Brides Collection: 9 Couples Navigate the Road to Freedom Before the Civil War Page 46
