Gingham Mountain

by Mary Connealy

  Hannah jerked on her wrists, but Grant didn’t loosen his hold.

  “A slave?” Marilyn gasped.

  The older black boy stepped forward. “Only a person who’s never been a slave and knows nothing about slavery would make such a comment.”

  “That’s Joshua.” Grant pulled Hannah a little closer until her arms bent at the elbow and pressed against Grant’s chest. “He spent the first few years of his life on a plantation. His father was sold when he was too young to remember him. His mother died after a beating from her master when Joshua was five. He escaped with some other slaves running away and ended up living on the streets in New York. Eventually he came here. How about it, Sadie? Do you think this silly woman should be throwing the word slave around?”

  Sadie, short and black with very old eyes, crossed her arms. “My parents were emancipated before I was orphaned. I was four when they died. Joshua and I and four others lived on the street for a year. Then we found out we could hide on a cargo ship and get out of that cold, awful city. We ended up in Houston.”

  Grant shuddered visibly. “Sadie and Joshua, living on the street, behind Confederate lines during the war.”

  “How long did you live on the street?” Hannah’s earliest memories were of a Chicago orphanage. Then she’d been under Parrish’s thumb. But the last few years, Hannah had been little more than living on the street.

  “About a year in New York before we got the idea of stowing away. We’d only been in Houston a little while when Pa found us there and—”

  “Yes,” Grant interrupted, “one of the boys they were running with tried to pick my pocket.”

  “Will,” Joshua said with a fond smile.

  “He was a mighty good thief,” Sadie added.

  Grant shook his head. “No, he wasn’t, or he wouldn’t’a got caught.”

  “He just didn’t know who he was dealing with.” Joshua shoved his hands in his pockets. “He didn’t know he was taking on someone who’d been a hand at thievin’ himself for a time.”

  Hannah knew how it was to be hungry or cold and see something you needed. Things had found their way into her hands, too. She’d never picked anyone’s pocket, but a pie left on a windowsill or a dress hanging on a clothesline had come home with her now and then.

  She’d known it was wrong and she’d gone right ahead. What’s more, to survive, she’d do it again, maybe not for herself. She liked to believe she could put herself in God’s hands and even face death from cold or hunger before she’d break another commandment. But if she had children in her care, she wouldn’t stand by and let them starve. She couldn’t. She asked for forgiveness to God and hoped the day never came again that she was forced to make such a choice. She waited for Grant to make excuses and pretty it up.

  He didn’t.

  Joshua continued, “It’s how I survived. It was wrong, and I knew it, but I did it anyway.” He nodded at Sadie. “She’s fifteen. Sadie is one of the few of us who knows her last name.”

  “Sadie Mason.” The black girl tilted her chin up with pride. “My pa named himself after what he did for a living in New York. Then he and Ma died in a diphtheria outbreak. They were both born into slavery, and they were separated from five children, all sons. Their owner sold my brothers off when he needed a little spending money. I wasn’t born until later, after Pa and Ma had escaped north. They told me what it was like, and even though I was mighty young when they died, I remember the scars of lash marks on both of their backs. You’re a mean lady to come in here and tell Pa he’s treating us bad. You don’t know what bad is if you can say such things.”

  Hannah knew exactly what bad was. She’d lived it herself when she’d been in Parrish’s hands. She had lash marks of her own, and she knew a person didn’t have to be black to be a slave.

  Every breath she took was for the purpose of helping and protecting children. Her heart ached to see these young spirits broken to the point that they’d defend this man. She remembered the times she’d said what Parrish expected her to say and put her whole heart into the lie, because she knew punishment awaited her if she didn’t defend her pa.

  She looked at the little boy who was standing beside Libby. The bleeding had stopped. Freckles sprinkled across his nose, and lank hair drooped across his eyes. His ears stuck straight out from his head, and his brown eyes didn’t shoot pellets of rage at her. Stepping nearer to her, he watched her like he was afraid she’d vanish.

  “I’m Benny, an’ I’m six. Pa isn’t a bad man. And I don’t think you’re a bad lady neither. You came out here because you were worried about us. I think that’s nice. We’re fine, but you can worry about us if’n you want to.” He edged closer.

  “You’re right, Benny.” Marilyn stepped up beside Grant, her blue eyes level with Hannah’s. Hannah wondered if Marilyn wasn’t almost her age. “She’s not bad. She just doesn’t know us very well yet. She doesn’t understand how things work on the Rocking C.”

  Marilyn looked sideways at Grant and added with a teasing lilt to his voice, “You seem to have latched on to Miss Cartwright for good, Pa.”

  Grant looked away from Hannah and arched an eyebrow at Marilyn. Hannah saw the sassy way Marilyn grinned at him and knew for a fact that she’d never grinned at Parrish in such a way. Grant returned the smile, then let loose of Hannah’s wrists and stepped away.

  Hannah rubbed her wrists distractedly and noticed her sleeve dangling. She pulled the fabric up to her shoulder, but it drooped back down. Ashamed of her arm being bare, she pulled it back up and clamped her arm to her side to hold it as best she could.

  Looking from one child to the next, Hannah balanced their obvious contentment here against what she knew their life must be like. She noticed Grant rubbing both his hands on his pant legs, as if touching her had gotten his hands dirty.

  She finally ignored the rest of them and said to Benny, “I’m not a bad person. You’re right about that, Benny. I didn’t like Charlie and Libby coming here when Mr. . . .Grant said there was no mother and not enough room. I still don’t think he should have all of you out here.”

  Grant snorted, clamped his arms across his chest, and shook his head. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Joshua said, “So what would have been better, ma’am? All the folks that wanted kids had already chosen. Sour Springs is the end of the line. The only thing ahead for Charlie and Libby was a long train ride back to the orphanage. You really think they’re worse off here?”

  Hannah glanced doubtfully at Benny’s bleeding head.

  Suddenly Grant’s eyes gleamed. “What is it you’d like to inspect, Hannah?”

  That’s when Hannah remembered she was usually afraid of men. Up until now, even with his grabbing her and looking at her with that narrow-eyed predator look, she’d forgotten to be scared.

  “Why don’t you come on into the house and help us get an evening meal on the table?” Grant said it so sweetly the hairs stood up on the back of her neck.

  Hannah knew she was being tested. . .or maybe used. After all, there was no woman around to do chores. It was just the worst kind of dirty shame that she had never spent much time in a kitchen.

  She wasn’t going to admit that. “I’d be glad to stay and help. In fact, I insist upon it.”

  Grant jerked his head toward the barn door. “This way.”

  He scooped Libby up in his arms and walked past Hannah without another look. Libby looped her arms around Grant’s neck and stared over his shoulder, smiling at Hannah.

  Falling into line with the other children, Hannah scowled at the way they trailed after Grant. She decided to catch up and prove herself his equal. Before she could, Benny’s hand slipped into hers. She looked down at the little boy.

  He was watching her with wide, adoring eyes. “You smell good, ma’am.”

  Hannah was sorely afraid she smelled like a horse, but Benny didn’t want to hear that. “That’s very sweet. Thank you.”

  Benny crowded closer and walked slowly as if he wa
nted the time with her to last. Hannah’s heart melted as she felt his hand cling tightly to hers. As Hannah neared the awful, undersized house, she felt even more that she had to protect these darling children.

  With Parrish it had been an apartment, the children confined to their one room nearly all the time while Parrish lived in the other four rooms. This wasn’t just about Libby anymore. With Benny pressed up against her, she knew she’d just fallen hopelessly in love with another one of Grant’s children.

  Her spine stiffened as she watched that awful man walk toward that awful house.

  No matter how hard you try, Grant, until I’m sure everything is as it should be, you’re not going to get me out of here.

  TEN

  I’ve got to get her out of here.

  Grant strode toward the cabin, stunned by the way the kids were looking at Hannah. He didn’t have to be a genius—he didn’t even have to be particularly bright—to get what Benny was thinking.

  Mother!

  It’s a good thing he didn’t have to be bright because he was the dumbest man who ever lived. He’d had this little moment of insanity and thought it would teach Hannah a lesson if he made her come in and help make dinner. She would see how great the girls were as cooks. She would see the other children pitching in with a cheerful attitude, and as a bonus, he’d get a little free labor.

  Now he was letting the confounded woman into his house, and she was going to see how crowded it was and how sparse and rickety the furniture. She’d see the bedrooms crammed with beds and that there really wasn’t enough room for Charlie and Libby.

  With a sigh, Grant admitted it didn’t matter that he’d invited her. He’d have never kept her out anyway.

  After one look at Benny practically wrapped around her, he didn’t look back again. He should have looked sideways, because if he had he might have headed off the next question.

  “Is that the only skirt you have for riding?” Marilyn asked. “I have a split skirt, and it’s way handier.” Marilyn tugged on her riding skirt.

  “Where did you get that?” Hannah’s voice sounded envious. “I’ve never seen one before.”

  “I made it.” Marilyn smiled. “It’s much more modest on horseback.”

  “You know how to sew?”

  “You don’t do any sewing, Miss Cartwright?” Marilyn dropped back to walk closer to Hannah.

  Grant was sure that the older girls had been annoyed with Hannah just a few moments ago. Now he was feeling deserted. At least Sadie didn’t—

  “We could show you how, and then we could give you a pattern for a riding skirt.” Sadie turned and walked backward so she could look at Hannah, since Hannah was out of sides to walk beside.

  Marilyn adjusted Hannah’s torn sleeve slightly. “We’ll help you get this sleeve put back on. And there’s a tear partway across the back. We can mend that, too.”

  “Oh, thank you. I was worried about getting my dress patched back together in time for school in the morning.”

  Grant shook his head in disgust. It looked like it was Joshua and him against the women.

  “What happened to your horse, Miss Cartwright?” Joshua gave Hannah a concerned look. “I don’t see it tied up anywhere.”

  “It threw me.”

  “That’s how you tore your dress?” Marilyn asked.

  Hannah was silent so Grant had to turn around to see her nodding and fiddling with her sleeve.

  “You fell off your horse?” Grant snorted a manly snort and exchanged a look with Joshua.

  Joshua’s eyes were fixed on Hannah. “Are you all right?”

  “I was upset when I heard the screaming coming from the barn. I kicked the horse to hurry him up, and he tossed me off his back. I’m afraid he’s long gone by now.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Joshua dropped back to walk closer to Hannah, too. “If you rented him from in town, he’ll go back. I’ll hitch up the team and give you a ride home after supper.”

  “Why, thank you, Joshua.”

  That left Charlie. Grant had no hope. Charlie had taken off somewhere, and if he was here, he’d probably throw in with Hannah just to prove how much he hated his new family.

  Grant thought of all the places there were around here to hide. Usually the young’uns picked a favorite, and Grant got onto it and could find them in a pinch. But Charlie hadn’t been here long enough for Grant to know where he’d hole up.

  “I’d better go find out where Charlie took off to.”

  “Leave him be, Pa.” Joshua looked around. There was no sign of the boy anywhere.

  Grant shook his head. “I’d better go.”

  “I’ve got a feeling about Charlie, Pa. I think he might be better after he’s had some time to cool down.” Joshua held Grant’s gaze, clearly expecting Grant to listen.

  Grant all of a sudden realized that while he wasn’t looking Joshua had turned from a boy to a man. Then he counted and realized Joshua would be seventeen in a couple of months—based on the age and birthday Grant had urged Joshua to pick when he’d come here so they could have a special meal for his birthday. For all Grant knew, Joshua could be twenty by now.

  Grant had been on his own by that time. In fact he’d adopted six kids the year he turned seventeen. One of them was Joshua, and the boy was a son to Grant in every way imaginable without being flesh and blood.

  Grant’s older girls talked sewing with Hannah. Benny and Libby had found a new ma. And Joshua had just grown up right in front of his eyes. For the father of six, Grant didn’t have much to do. He slumped his shoulders and wondered if he hadn’t oughta adopt more kids as soon as possible.

  They got to the house, and he remembered why he shouldn’t have taken the two he’d just gotten. He shifted Libby to one side while he held the door open, thinking he could at least serve some purpose manning the door. He let the whole family troop past, minus one troubled young boy, plus one interfering female.

  He noticed Hannah having trouble getting in the door with her little vine, Benny, clinging to her. She veered a bit too close to Grant while she went in sideways, and Grant got something else in his head to worry about.

  Benny was right. Hannah did smell good.

  He had a notion to tell her. For some reason it reminded him of that strange, secretive look that had passed between Ian and Megan at church this morning. With only the vaguest idea of what it meant and why he’d think of it now, Grant fought down a surge of restlessness that he’d rarely felt before, being exhausted half to death most of the time.

  But somehow that restlessness erased his impatience with Hannah, and he didn’t mind her staying around quite so much. His mind swirled with a lot of confusing thoughts he couldn’t pin down. And he considered how nice Hannah would look in a split skirt as he followed close after her.

  Then Hannah gasped.

  He stepped well away and focused his eyes elsewhere. Before she could start in on him, he said defensively, “It’s the house my folks left me when they died. I’ve been meaning to build on, but money’s scarcer ’n hens’ teeth and time is scarcer yet. I’ve got three bedrooms. The girls, Marilyn, Sadie, and now Libby, sleep together.”

  “Parents? I thought you were an orphan.” Hannah hoisted Benny up in her arms as if she’d done it a thousand times.

  “My folks adopted me off an orphan train when I was fourteen. I lived with ’em for a couple of years before they were killed when their team ran away with their wagon. They left me this house, and it was so quiet I couldn’t stand it. I went to enlist in the Confederacy, went as far as Houston and found six kids living in an alley. I just turned around and brought ’em back home.”

  “You adopted six children when you were sixteen?”

  “I was seventeen by then. And later, after the war, I got more young’uns that were leftovers on an orphan train.”

  Hannah settled Benny more firmly on her hip as if she planned on taking him with her. “That’s ridiculous. Who allowed that?”

  “Martha was riding
with the children even then.”

  “What was the matter? Did you need help on the ranch?”

  Grant stepped close to Hannah. He knew he should back off, but he didn’t quite have the self-control. “I had a home. Those children needed it.”

  “A seventeen-year-old boy isn’t a parent. What were you doing? Adopting playmates?”

  “I’m not saying I was a good parent, but I could put a roof over their heads.”

  “Children need more than a roof. Mrs. Norris should have been reported for allowing such nonsense.”

  “Martha will be given jewels in her crown in heaven for bending the rules and letting me take those kids.”

  “I may report her yet.” Hannah tore her eyes away from Grant and stroked one hand over Benny’s hair, still soaked from after-church sledding and tinged with blood. “Isn’t she answerable to anyone?”

  “You leave her alone.” Grant’s eyes narrowed. “She’s the finest woman I’ve ever known. If you cause her one second’s trouble, so help me, Hannah, I’ll—”

  “Don’t you threaten me.” Hannah stepped right up into his face. “If my complaint causes her trouble, then what does that say about her actions? If she’s got nothing to hide, then—”

  “What was the point of me living in a house by myself while they had nothing?” Grant leaned down toward the stubborn woman. “I didn’t plan it, but I couldn’t let them go all the way back to New York.”

  Hannah’s chest heaved and her eyes flashed fire. She clung to Benny as if she’d be willing to fight and die to protect him.

  This little spitfire was as alive and spirited as anyone he’d ever known. Grant couldn’t look away.

  “If you were adopted, why didn’t you take your parents’ name? Then all these children would have names.”

  “My parents’ name was Cooper. I can use that if I need to. But I want to remember what it’s like to not have a name.”

  “Why? Why would you cling to that memory? By not claiming a legitimate last name, you’re reminded every second of every day of your hardships. That has to be. . .exhausting.” Hannah shuddered as if she herself had burdens that rode on her shoulders and never let her rest.