The small “parlor” had remained a family joke for anyone who needed time alone, and the perfect place to house their new guests, even though Emmeline had insisted that she and Lucy would be fine in the barn. But Annie’s mother wouldn’t hear of it and insisted they’d be much warmer and more comfortable upstairs.
Until they could make it to the ferry. Isaiah wasn’t scheduled to work for another two nights. Emmeline and Lucy would need to stay with Annie’s family until then.
Her mother introduced the newcomers to her father and Will as soon as they arrived home from the cabinet shop. Then Annie’s family gathered around the dinner table, and her father said grace.
“Lord, give us the wisdom to discern Your will for our lives and for the lives of those we harbor under our roof. We humbly ask for Your protection and guidance. Thank You for this food before us, and as Thanksgiving approaches, help us to remember to be thankful for all our blessings and give to others as You have so generously given to us.”
“Amen,” Annie chorused along with them at the end, and shifted in her seat.
Could God truly be counted on to protect them? What was His position on slavery? Surely a loving God couldn’t fault them for taking in Emmeline and little Lucy, even if it was against the law. Not if He was a God of compassion.
“I know we said we wouldn’t take in any more runaways,” Annie’s mother said as she passed a plate of roasted potatoes and herbed carrots. “But they truly had nowhere else to go.”
“We can’t let Emmeline and Lucy be separated,” Annie agreed. “They need each other. Families ought to be allowed to stay together.”
Will nodded. “I thought the slaves in the South were shown basic human decency.”
“Some are,” her father said. “Your grandfather owned a couple of slaves before moving up here, but he always treated them fairly. He didn’t break up families.”
“What happened to Grandpa’s slaves?” Annie asked, intrigued. She’d never had slaves or servants.
“Your grandfather sold them when he needed money to move my mother, my two sisters, and myself north, to New Jersey. He’d inherited the land we live on from a great-uncle. After buying the supplies to build the house and barn, there wasn’t money left over to repurchase slaves or hire help. We learned to do for ourselves.”
“As should the South,” Will said vehemently.
“Will!” Annie’s mother scolded. “It’s not for us to judge how others should do things.”
Annie frowned. “Would you have us stay neutral?”
Her father finished chewing a bite of stewed chicken and set down his fork. “Your great-grandfather fought in the Revolutionary War, which founded this country. I had thought it our patriotic and Christian duty to obey our government, as long as it remained true to God’s Word. But when I increasingly see the two divided into opposite sides, one has to question which he ought to follow.”
“Dad, do you mean—?” Will asked, his face expectant as he awaited an answer.
“Of course, there are dangers,” her father continued. “If caught, we must be prepared to pay the consequences.”
Annie looked around the table at each of their faces, trying to make sense out of what was being said. “Does this mean we’re going to become a station on the Underground Railroad?”
Her parents exchanged a glance, and then her father’s eyes twinkled. “What do you think, Annie? Should we?”
Her father had never asked her opinion before. He sought out Will’s opinion on social issues, but never hers. After all, women usually had no say on such matters. She sat up straight in her chair, honored, and with a surge of confidence ricocheting through her entire being, she thought of Kitch, Emmeline, and little Lucy, and met her father’s gaze head-on.
“Yes, Father, I—I believe we should.”
Isaiah stood on the wharf, waiting for both the ferry and the Morrisons to arrive. Squinting, he gazed toward the First Presbyterian Church. Reverend Strong kept watch over the area from the bell tower, the tallest point in Jersey City. He had sent word through Louisa that he would light a lantern and place it in the top window when it was safe for Annie and Will to bring Emmeline and Lucy down to the docks. By this time of night, Annie and her brother should all be hiding in the woods, waiting for the signal. As was he.
There!
The lantern had been lit, giving off a bright, golden glow that could be seen for miles. Turning his gaze toward the tree line, he searched for Annie’s cloaked party of travelers.
“Did you hear the news?” a fellow crewman asked, coming to stand beside him.
“What news?” Isaiah asked hesitantly.
“We have a new captain,” the crewman said ominously and gave him a pointed look. “I thought you ought to know.”
A new captain? What happened to the other one? And how will that affect tonight’s mission?
“Thanks,” Isaiah said appreciatively. But he couldn’t suppress the sudden prickling sensation running down his arms, warning him to be careful.
The lanterns lighting the approaching ferry drifted closer across the river, and Isaiah’s pulse kicked up a notch. Would the new captain be sympathetic to the cause? And if not, how was he to sneak Emmeline and Lucy on board without being seen?
Once the ferry dropped anchor and the ropes had been tied around the pier posts, the crewmen off-loaded and reloaded several wooden crates, carrying various shipments of supplies. The captain must have remained inside the front steering cabin.
Keeping watch, Isaiah spotted the silhouettes of several figures emerge from the edge of the trees, then stop.
Glancing about in all directions, Isaiah made sure the coast was clear, then whistled the tune “Wade in the Water,” the signal he and Annie had agreed on to let them know they should come out of hiding and run toward the dock.
Except there were three figures instead of the four he’d expected.
“Where’s Will?” he asked as Annie ran toward him, carrying Lucy, whom she transferred into his arms.
“He and my father never came home from the cabinet shop. Mother has poor eyesight in the dark, and so that only left me to show Emmeline and Lucy the way.”
“That was a brave thing to do,” Isaiah said, his tone filled with admiration.
“Me? Brave?” Annie shook her head and with a smile said, “Lucy is the brave one. She took my hand and ran so fast, I couldn’t turn back even if I wanted to.”
“Is that so, Lucy?” Isaiah asked the child in his arms.
Lucy nodded, and with wide eyes that spoke of uncertain danger, she sang softly,
“Oh, go down, Moses, go down,
Way down into Egypt’s land,
Tell old Pharaoh,
Let my people go!”
“Emmeline, watch your step,” Isaiah said hurriedly as he lifted the lid to the trapdoor leading to the secret cargo hold in the back of the boat. “Once you climb down, I’ll hand Lucy to you.”
However, before he could do anything, Annie whispered, “Behind you!”
Isaiah spun around with the child in his arms, and tightened his hold as he locked gazes with a man with white hair and a beard whom he had never seen before. But the stranger’s unmistakable hat and uniform gave away his identity. Isaiah froze and judged the distance between them to be about ten feet. Lucy’s soft but passionate song had most likely drawn the man’s attention. Or Isaiah’s own whistling.
For a moment, they all just stared at each other, and Isaiah swallowed hard, adrenaline surging through every limb. The captain’s testimony against them would be enough to send both his and Annie’s families to jail. But the older man’s gaze shifted from Isaiah toward the girl in his arms, then over to the open hatch in front of them, where Emmeline’s head poked through.
Isaiah tensed, ready to spring off the boat and lead the child to safety, but the captain turned his back on them and said in a low voice over his shoulder, “I saw nothing.”
A wave of relief washed over him as Isaiah
met Annie’s gaze.
“He’s letting us go?” she asked, her eyes incredulous as the captain walked away.
Isaiah nodded. “Quick! Let’s get Lucy below.”
Annie gave the child a quick hug; then Isaiah handed her down the hatch to her mother and closed the lid.
“Will they be safe?” Annie asked.
“I won’t let anything happen to them,” Isaiah promised, and extended his hand to help her step back off the boat and onto the dock. “Do you trust me, Annie?”
She glanced down at her gloved hand in his, and in the soft glow of the lantern light, he saw her expression soften. “Yes, I suppose I must, if we are to continue working together.”
“Does that mean…?” he asked, searching her face for an answer.
Annie nodded. “Our family has decided to become a permanent station on the Underground Railroad.”
“Great news,” Isaiah assured her. He knew he should let go of her hand, but found he couldn’t. Instead, he bent his head and kissed it. Then she pulled away, a smile on her lips, and he added, “I look forward to seeing you often.”
“I look forward to seeing you too,” Annie said, and gazed up at him shyly. “But what shall we say if other people take notice?”
Isaiah grinned. “The sheriff already thinks I’m courting you. I say we stick to that excuse.”
Annie’s smile broadened. “If you say so, Mr. Hawkins.”
He would have said more, continued their little banter, but the ferry whistle blew, signaling their departure, and the crew came out to untie the lines.
His last glimpse of Annie showed her running across the field toward the safety of the dark tree line, her long cloak billowing out behind her. But halfway across the field, she stopped and reached out her hand to give him a small wave.
And even though she couldn’t see, he smiled in return.
Annie’s heart raced as she ran up the hill and through the trees toward home. She tried to convince herself it was from the exertion, but by the time she arrived at her own house and into the waiting arms of her anxious family, she knew the cause was due to something else.
Someone else.
None other than the intriguing Isaiah Hawkins.
Chapter 6
Annie arrived back home, exhausted, and planned to go straight to bed, thankful the ordeal of getting Emmeline and Lucy to the ferry was over. But when she saw the solemn looks on both her parents’ faces, she knew something was terribly wrong. Her gaze flew toward her brother, Will, who sat hunched over in a chair beside the fireplace, and when he lifted his haunted gaze to meet hers, she grew even more alarmed.
“What happened?” she asked, going to his side.
“I’ve been pressed into the service of Simon Augustus Cole,” Will spat, his tone bitter.
“He came into the cabinet shop with the sheriff and his men,” her father explained. “They searched every nook and cranny of the building.”
Will nodded. “He even wanted a look inside the sailing skiff I’ve been building in the back. But they didn’t find the fugitives they were looking for.”
Annie gasped. “Emmeline and Lucy?”
“Yes,” her mother whispered, her eyes wide. “Are they safe?”
“They’re on their way across the river,” Annie assured her.
“The sheriff says Cole has the right to demand help from any man he chooses,” her father said, his voice low. “And he chose me, but when I told him I couldn’t mount a horse with my gimpy leg…”
Annie glanced back at her brother. “He took Will.”
“I have to help him round up runaway slaves until he and his men take them back to Georgia at the end of the month,” Will informed her.
“That’s not fair,” Annie protested. “You should be given a choice.”
“I was,” Will sneered. “Help Cole or go to jail.”
“That’s blackmail,” Annie exclaimed.
Her father scowled. “Unfortunately, it’s the law.”
“Rumors have spread that Mr. Cole isn’t just after slaves,” her mother added. “He’s determined to catch all those who help them.”
Without assistance from the abolitionists, what would happen to the Southern fugitives who needed them, like Kitch, Emmeline, and Lucy? How would they make the journey north on their own?
While Annie was happy to see their short-term guests escape, she was also sorry that they had to travel so far to reach freedom. Would she ever see them again? Would there ever be a time when they could stay in Jersey City and not fear getting sent back south?
Annie looked at her father. “What shall we do? Stop helping the people who come to our door?”
“No,” her mother said determinedly. “We just won’t tell Will. It will be safer for him—and us—if he can honestly say in good conscience that he doesn’t know where any fugitives are hiding.”
“I won’t come into the house without calling out and giving you fair notice,” Will told her. “And if, perchance, you have someone with you, whom you don’t want me to see, you must do the same, so there is no interaction between us.”
A wave of sorrow flooded over her, bringing tears to her eyes. She and Will had never been on opposite sides before. They’d always been a team, working together. Now this horrid slave catcher, with his dominating authority, had managed to drive a wedge between them.
While she, Louisa, and Isaiah worked to help the slaves escape north, Will would be working with Simon Cole to return them to the South.
After Isaiah finished his evening shift aboard the ferry, he trudged slowly back to the livery. Surprised to find half the wagons and carriages missing from the interior of the building, he went in search of his brother and asked optimistically, “Did we have a good day of business?”
“Not in the way you’d hope,” Tom answered. “No leases, but about a half dozen sales. The good news is that I got a good price for them. Although still not enough to pay the entire fine.”
The fine for harboring the runaway slaves.
“This is my fault,” Isaiah said, leaning against one of the remaining wagons. “If I hadn’t antagonized that red-faced little man—”
“We don’t know for sure if Mr. Felding is the one who squealed,” Tom said, taking a harness off a nearby bench and hanging it up on a hook along the wall.
“He said if we were hiding any slaves, he’d shut us down.” Isaiah clenched his fist. “I think he must have been spying on us. If I hadn’t been working on the ferries, I could have kept better watch.”
“Your work on the ferry brings in extra money,” Tom reminded him. “And helps those who need a free passage to the promised land.”
“Not anymore,” Isaiah said, and cringed. “I got fired.”
“What?” Tom exclaimed, his eyes widening.
“The ferry had a new captain tonight,” Isaiah said, and blew out a frustrated breath. “He caught me hiding Annie Morrison’s cargo in the back hatch. He feigned indifference, but when we returned to the wharf at Jersey City, the new slave catcher, Simon Augustus Cole, and the sheriff were waiting for us. They insisted on searching the boat.”
Tom frowned. “But your cargo had been dropped off on the opposite shore.”
“Yes, but they rattled the captain pretty hard. And after they left, the captain said he feared he wouldn’t be needing me anymore.”
“No doubt with less income, we’ll have to tighten our belts,” Tom said, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “But we’ll manage. I’ll tell Henrietta to add more broth to her chicken-noodle soup to make it stretch further.”
“I’ll get another job,” Isaiah promised.
“We’ll also need another way to transport the runaways across the water,” Tom said, furrowing his brows. “Another boat.”
Isaiah nodded. “I’ve already spoken to a fisherman who has agreed to help. Not everyone is on Cole’s side.”
Tom gave him a good-natured slap on the shoulder and grinned. “Praise God for that, eh?”
&n
bsp; Chapter 7
Over the next several weeks, Annie’s admiration for her adventurous, kindhearted pretend beau grew every time they met, every time they shared a look or smile, every time they helped a new fugitive escape across the river toward the “promised land.”
During one escapade, when they’d had to wait for the fisherman’s boat to arrive, they’d hidden in a small shack along the shore, the back half embedded in the hillside and the front obscured by tall clumps of dried reeds. It was there that Isaiah had told her about his father, who had been shot by a sheriff two years before.
“Dad stood on our back porch, proud and defiant, and stood up for a free man, a friend of ours, whom the slave catcher insisted was a runaway,” Isaiah said, his expression pained as he choked out the words. “The echo of that pistol…is something I’ll never forget. Then the gun turned toward me and I—I couldn’t move. I couldn’t say a word. I just stood there, my father’s body not five feet away.”
Annie shuddered to think how she would have responded in his situation. She’d probably scream and crumble to pieces. But later, after she got over the shock of what had happened, she’d be angry.
“What happened to…your friend?” Annie asked.
“The slave catcher took him south and sold him back into slavery. We never saw him again. Tom and I are still trying to find him. We’d been hoping Kitch would have some information for us when he arrived, but he said there was no news.”
“That’s why you became abolitionists?” Annie asked, rapt with attention.
Isaiah nodded. “Tom and I vowed that day to help as many of the fugitives escape as we can. That way, our father’s life was not taken in vain.”
Annie could see the tenderness on Isaiah’s face when he spoke of his father, a man he clearly loved and admired. And when she and her mother joined the other women from church to assemble care packages for the needy, Annie couldn’t help but wish Isaiah’s affection for her was real.
The Underground Railroad Brides Collection: 9 Couples Navigate the Road to Freedom Before the Civil War Page 50
