A Plain and Sweet Christmas Romance Collection

by Lauralee Bliss

  She should be frightened. Any woman who knew what was good for her would be trembling by now. But other than her fear for Phoebe’s survival, the only thing Susanna felt was anger.

  Gathering her dignity around her like an invisible cloak, Susanna turned her back on the scoundrel and climbed down the wagon. When she was out of the way, Baxter took her place and began throwing armfuls of hay onto the snow. What would the bounty hunters do when they discovered there were no runaways in her wagon? Would they simply leave, or would they take out their disappointment on her?

  Susanna stood by the horses as hay spurted from the wagon like water from a spring. There was only one thing left to do.

  She knelt in the snow, closed her eyes, and folded her hands in front of her chest. “Dear Lord,” she prayed, “I’ve been taught that every man is illuminated by the divine Light of Christ. Use that Light, O Lord, to help Mr. Baxter and Mr. Jamison look into their consciences. Give them the strength to overcome the darkness that prods them to do these wicked deeds. Help them to know the grace of God, which can bring salvation to their lives, no matter the depth of their sins.”

  Susanna opened her eyes. Both men stared down at her.

  Baxter removed his hat and scowled at her. “Are you praying?”

  “I am,” Susanna said firmly.

  “Are you praying for us?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  Baxter climbed down the wagon and yanked Susanna to her feet. “Stop it! I don’t need nobody praying for me. Nobody!”

  Susanna met his scowl with a patient gaze.

  Baxter pivoted and called up to the other man. “Can you touch the bottom with that pitchfork?”

  Jamison stuck the tool through the hay in several spots then repeated the action down the length of the wagon. “Seems as though she was telling the truth, boss. Nothing in this wagon but hay.”

  Baxter glared at Susanna. “Burn it. No Quaker’s going to pray for me and get away with it.” He strode to his horse.

  Susanna returned to her knees.

  “Did you hear me?” Baxter yelled. “Burn it!”

  Jamison climbed down and mounted his horse. “No.”

  Baxter’s face darkened. “Why, you worthless skunk. I knew you’d be no good when the going got tough. Get out of my way, and I’ll burn it.”

  “No, boss. Nobody’s going to burn this lady’s wagon. And nobody’s going to harm one hair on her head. What we’ve got here is a fine Christian lady who’s done nothing wrong. She told us there weren’t any slaves under the hay, and there aren’t. So now we’re going to go back to the tree where we tied that farmer then go on about our business.”

  Mr. Miller! The bounty hunters had ambushed him.

  Baxter cursed loudly and spurred his horse. “This is quits for us,” he yelled over his shoulder as he rode away.

  “Good riddance!” Jamison shouted.

  Susanna watched the bounty hunter’s blue duster disappear into the dense forest.

  Jamison walked toward Susanna, the pitchfork resting on his shoulder. “My mama used to pray for me. Course, it didn’t do any good, but…”

  Susanna stood. “If she could see you now, Mr. Jamison, I believe she’d be proud.”

  The man ducked his head, his face flooding with color. “I don’t know about that, ma’am.” He walked toward the wagon, stopped, and turned back to Susanna. “Let’s get this wagon out of the snow and the hay reloaded. We’ve got a farmer to rescue. I don’t imagine his horse went far without him. He’ll probably need a ride.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The sun was straight above Susanna’s head by the time she arrived at the settlement. It didn’t take long for her to identify the meetinghouse. Following Eli’s instructions, she stopped the wagon in front of the building and waited for someone to come.

  A trio of men approached. “Good day, Friend,” they called.

  “Good day, Friends,” Susanna said. “I’m looking for Mr. Freeman. Can you help me?”

  The men exchanged gazes, and the oldest of the three came closer. “If thee will allow me to join thee on the bench, I would be glad to drive thy wagon to Friend Freeman’s barn.”

  This was the reply she’d been expecting. Eli had told her of the secret signal for communicating the presence of a runaway slave needing help. Once she’d uttered the name Freeman, the men of the settlement knew of her precious cargo. “Of course.” She moved to allow room for the man to join her.

  “I am Abner Larson.” He took the reins and guided the horses away from the cluster of houses.

  “My name is Susanna Griffith. My brother-in-law, Eli Wilson, sent me here.”

  Mr. Larson’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “Oh yes. Eli. He has been here many times. Usually Brother Eli comes with Nathan Griffith. Be you Nathan’s wife?”

  Susanna felt her spirit lift at the mention of Nathan. “I am.”

  “How long has thee been on the road, sister?”

  “One night. Do you know Samuel Miller, a farmer who lives about two hours west of here?”

  “I know him. He used to help many a poor soul seeking shelter. His son was badly injured by those who would keep the slave in shackles, and the Millers declined to help any longer.”

  That explained it. When he’d seen the settlement buildings, Mr. Miller had bid her farewell and turned his horse toward home.

  “Why does thee ask about the Millers?” Mr. Larson asked.

  “They helped me last night when I was caught in the blizzard.”

  “Thee was out in that terrible storm? Many a good man has been lost in blinding snow like that. Thank the Lord the Millers helped thee. Was the rest of thy journey smooth?”

  Susanna almost laughed. Smooth wasn’t a word she’d use to describe her encounter with the bounty hunters.

  Mr. Larson listened as she told of the scoundrels who had tried to burn the hay. “Sister Griffith!” he exclaimed when she finished. “That was certainly quick thinking on thy part. As it says in the book of James, the prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective. Seems as though the Lord used thee to remind the rogue of Christ’s goodness that lives in us all. But why does thee travel alone? Could not Brother Eli or Brother Nathan make the trip?”

  Susanna explained the circumstances of her solitary journey. When she told Mr. Larson about Phoebe’s imminent delivery, he blanched and prodded the horses to move faster. Soon they arrived at a farmhouse surrounded by tall spruce trees. The wagon wheels had barely stopped moving when a group of men and women hurried from the house and nearby barn.

  How good it was to be among Friends again. The women’s white caps and the men’s broad-brimmed black hats convinced Susanna she’d finally arrived safely. But what about Phoebe? Susanna hadn’t dared to stop and check on the girl for fear that other bounty hunters could be spying on her.

  A pair of strong arms lifted Susanna off the wagon, and she hurried to the back. Two men had removed the partition and were helping Phoebe slide out of the compartment. Susanna rushed to her side. “We made it, Phoebe. We’re here at last. Are you all right?”

  Tears streamed down Phoebe’s face. “Am I free?” she whispered hoarsely. “Am I free?”

  “Yes, Phoebe. You’re free.”

  Phoebe wrapped her arms around her abdomen. “Oh, Lord! Thank You, Lord. Thank You, Jesus. My baby will never be a slave. Thank You, Lord.”

  Susanna’s vision blurred as tears filled her eyes. She’d be willing to endure much more than a blizzard to feel the way she did at that moment.

  “Where’s my Tom?” Phoebe asked. “Do any of you know my husband, Tom? He came from the Hansen farm in Bracken County, Kentucky. Please, where’s my Tom?”

  Heads turned as the Friends muttered among themselves. When the conversation abated, Mr. Larson spoke for the group. “Is thy husband a tall man with a scar across his right cheek?”

  “Yes,” Phoebe answered. “Where is he? Where’s my husband?”

  “He is on a neighboring farm, only a few
miles away. We will send for him.” Mr. Larson gestured to a petite woman in a blue dress. “This is my wife. She will take care of thee.”

  Mrs. Larson came to Phoebe’s side. “I fear that thy pains have already started. Am I right?”

  Pains? Had Phoebe been in the first stages of delivering her child while she’d been stuffed in that stifling compartment?

  “Yes, ma’am.” Phoebe took a few steps and bent at the waist, her hands on her knees. “I didn’t know the pains would be so strong. Granny told me the first hours of childbearing were the easiest.”

  “Come into the house,” Mrs. Larson said, “and we will make thee comfortable. And do not worry about a thing. Many a baby has been born on this farm.”

  A look of uncertainty shadowed Phoebe’s face, and she looked questioningly at Susanna. “It’s all right,” Susanna said reassuringly. “No one’s going to hurt you or your baby. And your husband will be here soon.”

  Phoebe looked at the surrounding women then turned pleading eyes to Susanna. “Will you stay with me, ma’am? At least until my Tom comes?”

  The Griffiths were expecting Susanna to return that very day. If she left within the hour, she’d be home by late afternoon. Phoebe’s hand lightly touched Susanna’s. “Please, ma’am?”

  The poor girl. After what she’d been through the last few days, who could blame Phoebe for needing someone she knew to stay close? Susanna covered Phoebe’s hand with her own. “Of course,” she replied.

  Chapter 5

  Nathan and his father slowed their horses to a walk. “We’ll be home soon,” Thomas said. “No need to work the horses into a lather just to get there a few minutes earlier.”

  “I know thee is right, but I long to be home.”

  “Perhaps thee is missing thy wife.” Thomas grinned teasingly.

  “I find no shame in admitting it. Letters have been small comfort.”

  “I believe we were right to go to Mason County. Once again we have witnessed the truth behind the Lord’s words: ‘All things work together for good to them that love God.’ I will never forget the silence of the courtroom when the jury pronounced Brother Mahan not guilty. Not even Judge Reid had the temerity to issue one of his lengthy philosophical statements.”

  “And the way Reverend Mahan stood motionless and stared silently at the judge. He was like a prophet of old, daring the nonbeliever to deny the power of the Lord.”

  “Brother Mahan will be home soon. His health is not good, but a few weeks at home will surely cure him.”

  They pulled their horses to a stop at the top of the hill. From that spot Nathan could see the Griffiths’ farm and house.

  “Smoke is coming out of the chimney,” he said, “and the horses are in the pasture. Seems as though everything’s right enough.”

  “Yes,” Thomas said. “But does thee see that smoke rising from the woods to the west?”

  Nathan squinted in the direction his father had indicated. “Someone’s made camp.”

  “Someone who wants to keep an eye on us. It is just as Brother Jackson told us. Bounty hunters so brazen, they have trespassed onto our property.”

  Apprehension squeezed Nathan’s heart. He’d been wrong to leave his wife alone with rascals camping two hundred yards away from their cabin. “I need to go on, Father. After I’ve checked on Susanna, I’ll bring her to the house.”

  Thomas nodded, and Nathan turned his horse toward the sheltered spot where he’d built the cabin for his wife. The weeks he’d spent in Kentucky seemed like months. Now that Brother Mahan was finally free from the awful jail, perhaps Nathan’s life could return to its normal routine.

  Nathan spurred his horse into a trot, a pace that matched his own heartbeat. He’d done what he could to keep in touch with his family, but nothing could replace the feel of his wife in his arms. Once they were safely reunited, he’d hold Susanna until his arms ached from the pleasure of it.

  When the cabin came into view, Nathan smiled broadly. One second later, the smile withered into a concerned frown. There was no smoke coming from the chimney. Even if Susanna had left for a few hours, he should be able to smell wood smoke from the banked coals. He scanned the meadow where his horses grazed during fair-weather days; it was empty. Even the barnyard was bare, devoid of the ever-present chickens that spent the day scratching for bugs and seeds.

  The cabin was a lifeless shell. A pain shot through Nathan’s jaw as he realized something was seriously wrong. He fought the dreadful images that besieged his mind, holding panic at bay while he dismounted and ran into the cabin.

  The cabin’s single room was neat. The bed linens were arranged perfectly, and clean dishes had been placed on the shelves. Susanna’s clothes hung from the pegs he’d driven into the wall, but her jacket, cape, and bonnet were missing.

  Nathan forced air into his lungs. The orderliness of the cabin told him no one had broken in, and the absence of Susanna’s outer garments pointed to the fact that she’d simply left.

  Where was she?

  Gradually Nathan’s breath slowed, and his heartbeat resumed a normal rate. As his body relaxed, logic reappeared in his troubled mind. Susanna had probably gone to stay with his mother and sister in his absence. It was too much to expect a young woman, married for only five months, to live alone for three weeks.

  Nathan stepped outside and started down the trail that led to his parents’ house. Halfway there, his mother met him.

  “Praise the Lord, thee has returned safely.” Martha threw her arms around his neck.

  “It’s good to see thee, Mother.” Nathan stepped back from her embrace and scanned the trail. “Where’s Susanna? Isn’t she with thee?”

  Martha squeezed Nathan’s hand in hers. “I have something to tell thee, son.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Nathan paced back and forth in front of the kitchen fireplace while his family watched. “I can’t believe thee let her go,” he said through clenched teeth. “Especially thee, Eli. Thee knows what could happen to Susanna if she’s discovered.”

  Miriam stood to face her brother. “We’ve explained the circumstances of Susanna’s journey. She was the only one of us who could go. Thee must not blame my husband.”

  When his wife was safely home, Nathan would apologize to whomever he’d offended. For the moment, he had no patience for politeness. “I’ll be leaving within the hour. I need to change horses and pack provisions.”

  “Leaving?” Martha asked. “Where is thee going?”

  “After Susanna of course. There’s only one road to the Friends’ settlement in Bear Valley. I’m sure to meet her on the way.”

  “That would not be wise,” Thomas said.

  Nathan spun on his heel, ready to dispute his father’s words. “Now thee speaks of wisdom? No one considered what was wise when they sent my wife on a perilous journey.”

  Thomas’s eyebrows rose, and Nathan knew his tone had been impertinent. His father answered with calm deliberation. “I agree that thee should go. Not only for Susanna’s sake but for thy own. I advise thee to wait until darkness falls. If the bounty hunters see thee leave, they are likely to follow. And that would put Susanna in greater jeopardy. We cannot know for sure that Susanna has delivered her special guest.”

  Nathan’s shoulders slumped. Although he was anxious to find his wife and bring her back to the safety of their cabin, he knew his father was right. His hands fisted at his side. “This is my fault.” His jaw tightened.

  “No, son. Susanna chose to make this trip, and we must honor the call she heard.”

  “I thought I could keep Susanna away from the danger. If anything happens to her—” Nathan covered his face with his hand and turned away from his family. He fought to maintain his composure, but his mother’s gentle hand on his shoulder almost undid him.

  “We have been in constant prayer for Susanna since she drove away,” she said soothingly. “We will continue, without ceasing, until she returns.”

  Nathan’s body longed to move, t
o mount a fresh horse and search for his wife. The muscles in his jaw clenched and unclenched as his good sense battled against his instincts. He’d pledged to protect Susanna. Was prayer really the only thing he could do? He looked at the earnest, placid faces of his sister and parents. They’d found comfort in the Lord, but Nathan’s fretfulness would not allow him to be still.

  “I’ll pray,” Nathan said. “But it will be outside where I can watch for the first sight of my wife.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Susanna sat by Phoebe’s bed, wiping beads of perspiration from the girl’s face and counting the minutes until Tom arrived. Susanna couldn’t listen anymore to Phoebe’s moans. Susanna had helped with births before, but nothing in her experience had prepared her for Phoebe’s screams.

  The midwife took no heed of Phoebe’s distress. “It’s a big baby and a little mother,” she explained. “But there’s no need to worry. Everything’s moving right on schedule.”

  Phoebe blew out a long breath and relaxed her grip on the bedclothes. “I guess it won’t be much longer before I’ll be seeing my son.”

  Realizing the girl must be in between pains, Susanna refilled a cup with cool water. “You think it’s a boy?”

  “Must be. The way he’s been kicking, and the fight he’s putting up just to get out and see the world…Why, it must be a boy.”

  “What will you name him?”

  Phoebe drained the cup and returned it to Susanna. “Tom, of course, after his daddy.”

  “And if it’s a girl?”

  Phoebe raised her eyebrows. “A girl? I hadn’t much thought about girl names.”

  “Children are often named after grandparents. What is your mother’s name?”

  “Oh ma’am, I don’t know that. For as long as I can remember, there’s just been Granny. She says my mama was sold shortly after I was weaned, and nobody knows who my daddy was. Granny took me in.”

  The image of a slave woman forced to abandon her child burned into Susanna’s mind. That explained why Phoebe had risked her life and her baby’s life to reach freedom. No one would separate Phoebe from her baby the way a cow was separated from a calf.