by Ginny Dye
Dexter edged in between Rose and Leon. “Don’t be stupid, Leon. You know as well as I do that if we lay a hand on this woman, Moses will hunt us down. Besides, she is just crazy enough to shoot you. She might not able to get us all, but someone will hear the shot and then Moses will find us for sure. You know he will! He may not be man enough to teach his wife her place, but we ain’t the ones to do it. Not if we want to live.”
Leon glared at him but moved back slowly, his eyes burning into hers.
Rose managed to hide the relief pouring through her as she held her head erect, her hand steady as she gripped the pistol. “I’m glad one of you has some sense,” she said calmly. She wondered if the men would simply let her walk home if she were to show fear and let them think they had succeeded with their scare tactics, but she stubbornly refused to give them that power over her. She also suspected any show of weakness would trigger violence in them whether they fered the pistol or not.
“The two of you can act like cowards if you want to,” Stan snarled, “but things can’t get no worse for me. Julia and my two babies are all I got. That wife of mine thinks just ‘cause she got some learning that she can act like she’s somebody. I’m gonna keep right on teaching her what her place is.”
“Julia doesn’t have to be able to read to be somebody,” Rose shot back. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but she was angry enough now to throw all caution to the wind. “The four women you cowards are beating are far better people than any of you will ever hope to be,” she said furiously. “You want to think you are big, strong men. You are nothing but cowards who thrive off of fear.” When the three men went rigid, Rose knew she had gone too far, but she was too angry to care. Whether or not she survived whatever they were going to do to her, at least she would have spoken the truth, and she was certain she could shoot one or more of them before they reached her.
“You shouldn’t have said that,” Dexter hissed as he reached for her. Leon and Stan surged forward, as well.
Rose took a deep breath and prepared to squeeze the trigger. Before she could shoot, the sound of gunfire exploded in the woods. The whistle of a bullet whizzing through the air above their heads caused the men to freeze in place.
Moses stepped from the woods. “If any of you lay a hand on my wife, I will shoot you where you stand.” His deep voice, taut with anger, seemed to vibrate in the still air.
Rose allowed herself to sag with relief as Moses strode up to stand beside her. One hand reached down to grasp hers, while the other held the pistol firmly.
Moses had chosen to listen for a while, hoping he wouldn’t have to step in because he knew his presence would make the men feel even more trapped. Trapped men, the same as animals, tended to be more dangerous. He had listened with admiration as Rose spoke, praying the men would be able to hear her. He suspected they had, but their pride had not allowed them to admit it. None of them wanted to look weak before the others. Individually, he suspected she would have had a powerful impact on each of them.
When Dexter had reached for Rose, he took action, careful to make sure the bullet went over their heads, but still close enough to get their attention. “Which one of you would like to be the first to die?” Moses asked. His voice was even, but he could feel the rage pulsating through every part of him. “I figure I can shoot two of you. Rose can take care of the other of you three cowards. Step forward if you want to be first,” he invited coldly.
The three men remained frozen in place, their eyes searching for a way to escape.
“The first one of you to move is going to be the first to be shot,” Moses snapped, his thoughts searching for an answer of what to do next. He knew the sound of the gunshot was bound to draw attention. He wanted a plan in place before anyone arrived, but short of shooting all three of them to make sure their wives and children remained safe, he didn’t have a clue what to do. And he didn’t really want to kill the men.
Rose sensed his quandary. “We’re not going to be alone for long,” she observed. “I imagine it won’t take but a few minutes for the gunshot to call in reinforcements. Unfortunately for all of you, anyone who comes to find us is going to be on our side.”
Moses watched Dexter shift his feet as all their eyes widened with frightened comprehension. Suddenly he had a plan. “I figure you’ve got three or four minutes to make sure you are never seen or heard from again.” He nodded toward the woods. “I can tell anyone who comes that I was scaring off a coyote that got too close to Rose. Of course, if they see any of you, they are probably going to know the truth. Every person there tonight saw your wives huddled in terror under that tree,” he snapped.
The men jumped as Moses’ voice tightened and grew louder.
“We can’t just leave,” Leon whined. “Mary and the children won’t know where I am.”
“That would be the point,” Moses said grimly. He kept the pistol trained on all of them. “Your wives are too frightened to leave you, so you’re going to do them the favor of leaving them. I can guarantee you your families will be taken care of.”
“Which is more than you ever did for them,” Rose added. She turned to look down the road. “I think I hear horses in the distance,” she said pointedly.
Moses couldn’t hear anything yet, but he was sure the other men’s hearts were beating far too loudly to know if anyone was coming. “Yep,” he agreed. “I reckon these fellows have about two minutes before this window of opportunity closes.”
“Where are we going to go?” Dexter asked, his voice edged with defeat.
Moses shrugged. “You were leaving tomorrow anyway. I suggest you go wherever you were going. Only now you are going to do it alone.” He heard the first sound of hoofbeats in the distance. “And just to make sure we are clear, I never want to see you again. Neither do the rest of the men who work for me. I’m going to give them clear instruction of what to do if any of the three of you show your faces on Cromwell Plantation again.” He pulled the trigger back on the pistol to make his point clear.
Stan was the first to move. “I won’t forget this,” he growled as he turned and began to run toward the woods.
“Watch your back,” Dexter threatened as he turned to follow him.
Leon held his ground, his eyes flaring with rage, until the drum of horse hooves sounded through the still air. He tensed, shook his head, and then began to flee.
Moses let them go but aimed another shot over their heads, smiling with grim satisfaction when they ducked and ran faster. Then he turned and gathered Rose close in his arms. “You scared me to death,” he groaned.
“I’m so sorry,” Rose murmured as he crushed her to his chest with trembling arms. “I know now that I should have never gone down there without you. I’ve been happy to see you a lot of times in my life, but never more than tonight.” She pressed into him for long moments before she pushed back and peered toward the woods. “Will they come back?”
Moses considered the question and then shook his head. “I don’t believe they will. Men who beat their wives are exactly what you said—cowards who thrive off of fear. They have no more power now, and they know we will be watching for them. We’ll watch Morah and the others very carefully.”
“Morah!” Rose cried, her stomach clenching with panic. “Abraham must have been waiting in the cabin when she got home. We have to get to her!”
Moses thought about what he had heard the men say just as a group of horses rounded the curve at a gallop. He knew Rose was right. He was relieved when Robert, Matthew, Perry and Mark rode up and slid to a halt.
“What happened?” Robert asked, his eyes searching the area.
“I’ll explain later,” Moses responded. “I need you to get to Morah in the quarters as quickly as you can.”
Robert didn’t press for an explanation. He had seen what was going on that evening just like everyone else had before he and Carrie had disappeared. He reached down a hand to Rose. “Swing up behind me. Morah will need you.”
Rose accept
ed his hand as Moses stepped forward to boost her up.
Mark dismounted from his gelding. “Take my horse, Moses. I’ll start walking back to let everyone know you and Rose are all right.”
Moses nodded his appreciation as he mounted. “Let’s go.”
“Wait!” Rose cried. She reached out to put a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “Please go get Carrie and Janie. And Mark shouldn’t walk home alone.” She shuddered as she realized Dexter, Stan and Leon might be in the woods plotting their revenge.
Matthew nodded, understanding instantly why she was making the request. “I’ll have them back as soon as I can.” He pulled Mark up behind him and then turned and galloped off.
“Let’s go!” Rose cried.
People, their faces filled with confusion and fear, were milling about in the quarters when they galloped up. Rose knew they were afraid the gunshots meant vigilantes were on the prowl. The fear melted from their faces as they identified the riders, but the confusion didn’t lessen.
Della stepped forward. “What is going on?”
Rose saw Della’s children huddled in the doorway. She felt a surge of relief that they were going to be safe, but she also grieved for the loss of their father. She pushed the thoughts from her mind. There were more pressing things at the moment. “Where is Morah?”
Della stiffened. “She went into her cabin.”
“You didn’t hear anything?”
Della shook her head. “No, but that don’t mean nothing,” she said. “Some of the men kept playing their instruments when we got back. Folks weren’t quite done dancing yet.”
Rose swallowed her groan as Moses reached up and pulled her off Robert’s horse. She turned and ran toward the cabin, hearing the sound of soft weeping as soon as she reached the door. Moses grabbed her arm to hold her back while he stepped through the door, his pistol held steady.
Della boldly stepped in behind him with a brightly lit lantern to illuminate the cabin.
Rose gave a cry as she sprang forward. Morah and her son lay battered on the floor, both of them crying and whimpering. The baby lay motionless on a blanket in the corner.
Della rushed over to the baby and scooped her up. A single sad look was all it took to confirm what Rose already knew.
Rose knelt down next to Morah and touched her arm gently. “We’re here, Morah. You’re safe now.”
Morah managed to open one swollen eye enough to peer up at her. Her face had been beaten almost beyond recognition and both her arms dangled brokenly at her sides. “Rose… I…”
Rose held a finger to her lips, anger and grief making her voice shake. “Shhh… We’ll talk later. Right now we’re just going to take care of you.”
“Dwane…” Morah whispered. She tried to push herself up from the floor but collapsed back with a cry of pain.
“He’s going to be all right,” Moses assured her.
Rose looked over, breathing a sigh of gratitude when six-year-old Dwane managed to give her a very weak smile. He had been badly beaten, but obviously Abraham had taken most of his rage out on his wife.
Morah nodded weakly but forced her eye open again. “Sunny?” she whispered.
Rose could tell she already knew the truth, but was desperately holding on to hope. She held back her tears as she gripped Morah’s hand. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured.
Morah began to weep again as the meaning of Rose’s words seeped in. “My baby,” she whimpered, suddenly finding the strength to sit up without the use of her arms. Her head swiveled as she tried to find her daughter.
Rose, no longer able to hold back the tears, nodded to Della. Della, her own tears rolling down her cheeks, carried Sunny forward tenderly and knelt down to hold her where Morah could see her daughter.
“Sunny…” Morah groaned. Her voice softened into a raspy whisper. “I’m so…sorry, baby…” Her voice trembled with pain and grief. “My fault… My fault…”
“It’s not your fault,” Rose said. “Abraham did this.”
Morah swiveled her one eye before she fixed it back on her dead child. “Shouldn’t…have…come… home,” she gasped as her face twisted with pain. “He’s…coming…back…”
“No,” Moses said firmly. He stepped forward and knelt down to make sure Morah could see him. “He’s not ever coming back, Morah. You have my word on that. You and Dwane are safe here on the plantation.”
Morah stared up at him beseechingly for a long moment and then sagged back, unconscious. Rose caught her and lowered her gently to the floor.
“Mama,” Dwane moaned. “Mama…” He remained huddled on the floor as he looked up. “She gonna die, Miss Rose?”
“No,” Rose replied, hoping it wasn’t a lie. She got up and moved over to him, stroking his head while she prayed Carrie and Janie would arrive soon.
Carrie, Janie and Matthew pounded down the road, the moonlight casting a bright enough glow for them to see easily as the first layer of frost sparkled up at them. She had watched the men respond to the gunfire, and then she had sprung into action. Certain they would be needed soon, Carrie had her father tack up Granite and Juniper while she and Janie made sure their medical bags were complete. They had just tied the equipped bags onto the saddles when Matthew had galloped back into the yard. Carrie and Janie had mounted as Mark slid down from behind Matthew. There had been no time for explanations. It was not necessary. Answers would come in time. It was enough to know they were needed.
Carrie thought through the supplies they carried. It was a mixture of Sarah’s potions that June and Polly had made over the summer and the homeopathic remedies she had brought home with her. She was grateful for whatever force had compelled her to stock up on every remedy the homeopathic pharmacy in Philadelphia carried. She whispered a prayer of gratitude that she had done as much reading as possible on how they were used. Now she could only hope she and Janie possessed the knowledge that was needed for whatever was waiting for them. She banished the images that kept pressing into her mind. It would do no good to make things up. They would simply deal with whatever they found.
The quarters were deathly silent as they rode in and dismounted. That, perhaps more than anything, told Carrie how serious the situation was. Every face, tight with worry and fear, looked back at her, but no one said a word. Children were pulled tightly against their mothers. Tiny eyes peered at her, but none of them called out. Carrie exchanged a somber look with Janie as Moses stepped out of one of the cabins.
“Over here,” he called, his words echoing through the clearing before they wrapped around the branches that seemed to draw closer to offer protection.
Carrie took a deep breath, locked eyes with Janie again, and then stepped into the cabin. It took her only moments to assess the situation. “You check out the boy,” she murmured as she stepped toward where Morah lay on the wooden floor. She locked eyes with Rose. “Is she…?”
“She’s alive,” Rose whispered.
Carrie knew what Rose wasn’t saying—it might not be for long. She took note of the broken arms and battered face before she began a gentle examination of Morah’s body to see if she could detect more damage. “Her husband?”
Rose nodded, her face set in grim lines. “Her husband.”
Carrie glanced over at Janie, glad to see the little boy was conscious and talking to her. “He beat his son, too?”
“His name is Dwane. He just started school this year,” Rose answered, her voice trembling now. “Yes. He beat him, too, but not as badly.”
Carrie’s eyes swept through the cabin as she continued to probe Morah’s body, glad she was unconscious. Suddenly she stiffened when her eyes landed on one corner of the room. “The baby?”
Rose choked back a sob. “Sunny is dead.”
Carrie set her lips, her heart constricting with sorrow, but said no more. Janie would treat Dwane. It was her job to take care of Morah.
Polly suddenly appeared beside her. “We just heard. They sent someone down for us. Can I help?”
&n
bsp; Carrie gave a sigh of relief. “Yes. I’ll need your assistance setting her arms.”
Janie appeared at her side. “Do you have a homeopathic treatment for the results of a beating?” she whispered angrily, obviously trying to keep Dwane from hearing.
Carrie knew the whole situation was bringing up terrible memories for Janie, but she also knew her friend could handle it. They would talk it through later, and she knew Matthew would give Janie the support she needed. She nodded and reached into her bag. “Rose, I want you to boil some water to make a tea from these arnica blooms. You’ll need four cups of water for this amount. As soon as the water boils, add these blooms and let them simmer for ten minutes.” She held up her hand as Rose started to move. “Be very careful with this. Arnica is extremely poisonous. Don’t get any on your skin until it has been diluted, and make sure no one puts any of it into their mouth.”
She turned to Janie as Rose hurried to the fire someone already had blazing to warm the cabin. She held out a small bottle. “This is a homeopathic dose of arnica. It will help with the swelling and bruising from the beating. Put three drops into a glass of water for Dwane to drink. He should have the same dose every three hours for the next twenty-four hours. Have you found any other injuries?”
Janie shook her head. “Dwane said Morah stepped in between him and Abraham when he was being beaten.” Her eyes deepened with pain. “Morah took the brunt of things.”
Carrie nodded, unwilling to visualize what she was hearing. Though she knew the horror would come, she had to focus on her patients. “Once Rose has made the arnica tea I want you to bathe all of Dwane’s body that has been beaten. Make sure, though, that you don’t put it on broken skin. It will help reduce the swelling and bruises, and it will take away the pain much more quickly.” She paused. “We’re only going to do this for them twice tonight. Arnica is quite effective, but it can damage the skin if used too often. Once you have finished bathing him, make sure you wash your hands carefully.”
