by Lyn Cote
“I gave Samuel my promise,” Honor replied with brittle courtesy, recalling that she had nearly given Alec the same promise before he turned on her. She rose, walking forward, forcing Zeb outside.
Zeb climbed up on the wagon and looked down on her. “I misjudged you. You didn’t turn out to be a false-hearted love. I give credit where credit is due.”
Honor merely nodded, unable to think what to say. “Good day, Zeb, Dan.”
Then, as he started the team, she barely heard Zeb’s final comment. “Wish I’d chosen as well.”
She watched the two men drive off. Zeb’s phrase “false-hearted love” repeated in her mind. Her own hurt stirred. She pressed it down.
A long, uncomfortable day of work in the unusual April heat lay ahead. She and Royale would be doing the weekly laundry and ironing today. She looked down at her hands that had become callused in places over the past months. She was fortunate to have a man whose business prospered more and more and who could afford a cook and maid. But no longer was Honor the lady of the plantation. She worked with her hands too.
“You can always tell a lady by her hands,” Royale’s mother had said. Honor refused to allow any more memories. Her life in Maryland was long ago and far away—except that Darah had brought it all back by running away from Alec and hiding in Honor’s barn. A churning started in the pit of her stomach. Why had Darah left Maryland, left Alec?
As soon as the catchers went on their way, Royale hurried inside the house. “Samuel say Darah and her maid are hiding in the barn. What happened?”
Honor had retreated into her chair, trying to recruit her strength. “I don’t know. But Eve isn’t with her. A new woman is her maid.”
Royale dropped into the chair opposite. “What? Eve was raised to be her maid for life—just like you and me.” Royale’s face twisted with confusion. “Why is Miss Darah here? Her letter say she married Mr. Alec last year.”
Honor lowered her head into her hands. “Darah didn’t seem to want to talk, and we had to get them hidden before dawn. And then the catchers came.”
“What did you give those two breakfast for?” Royale’s voice vibrated with her disapproval.
Honor shook her head. “I wanted to distract them.” To distract myself. I don’t know why.
Several minutes passed before she looked up to find Royale staring at the wall, frowning. “What is it?”
Royale worried her lower lip. “I heard things … in Maryland. Slaves talk about their masters.”
Honor straightened up. “What did thee hear?”
Royale ignored her question and still gazed past Honor. “I never worry about you and him ’cause I never thought you would marry him.”
This distracted Honor. “Thee didn’t? Why?”
Royale shrugged. “I knew you intended to free your people. If you did that, Alec Martin wouldn’t want to marry you. No land.”
Ice went down Honor’s spine. “Thee means that he only wanted me for what I’d bring him.”
“I didn’t say that,” Royale amended. “Mr. Alec want you because you were the prettiest and you got special style and wit. But land and money are important to him.”
Royale’s confidences had only stirred up Honor’s emotions more. “To a lot of people.”
Royale let loose a sound of dry agreement. “I wish we could go out and talk to them, but with the catchers nearby, we can’t till way after dark.”
“I know.” Honor reached for Royale’s hand, seeking reassurance that she could count on her not to have changed, lied. She wanted to press Royale for more insights about Alec, but suddenly fearful, she asked, “Why is life always so unpredictable?”
Royale squeezed her hand. “I don’t know, but I do know we got a lot of laundry to do before it gets any hotter.”
Yes, better to concentrate on reality. “Go ahead. I’ll be right out.”
Honor watched Royale walk outside and tried to focus her mind, but her thoughts bounced around as if she were driving down a rough road. And that seemed to be an apt comparison. No matter what Darah had to say, this would be a rough road.
As the day passed, Samuel tried several times to get Honor to speak with him about the two women. She refused to discuss them and withdrew from him. He felt her absence keenly. How had he missed how much he’d come to prize her constant thought and effort for him, toward being his helpmeet?
Night loomed ahead, and he asked if she wanted to take the women their meal or let them come in. She blinked away tears. He had rarely seen his wife so distracted, so downhearted. It shook him. But he had no idea how to reach her.
After sundown and supper, he headed for the kitchen with his silent wife, who’d agreed to take the meal to the barn. Perlie dished up two more plates of food and put them in a water bucket in case the catchers had circled back in secret. Royale and Judah came along as well. The two couples walked out to the barn, side by side without exchanging words.
In the barn, Samuel lit a lantern and felt his wife withdraw further. Judah worked the lever on the wall, and with a rattle, the panel of bottles swung open. Within, the two women looked wilted from the day’s heat. Samuel hadn’t fired up the forge today, but that didn’t look like it had helped. He hoped a cooling rain would drench the land soon and break the humidity.
Honor and Royale stood back as if not wanting to get too close. Wondering at this, he lifted the two plates out of the bucket and sent Judah to fill their jug with fresh water. Before they ate, the two hurried through the dark shadows to the necessary and back again. They sat down on the floor to eat their cold meal.
Samuel watched them eat, baffled as Honor stood like a statue, staring at her cousin, barely blinking. Even with the conflicted past that stood between them, he would have thought Honor would try to get answers out of this woman.
Royale also stared at the visitors as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. But she was the one who began the conversation. “Where’s Eve? Why she not here with you?” she asked, signing it too.
Darah glanced up and down and spoke. At her answer, Honor visibly reacted as if someone had struck her, but she didn’t reply or interpret for Samuel.
Royale also appeared shocked, but she gathered herself and signed what Darah had said: “Alec sold Eve south—without even asking me.”
Sending worried glances toward Honor, Royale explained to Samuel, “Eve raised with us to be Miss Darah’s maid. What call would make Mr. Alec sell Eve?”
“So Miss Darah be all alone,” the new maid said.
Royale signed this and let her hand fall. She moved closer to Honor as if shaken.
Samuel stood, watching, trying to figure out what this all meant and how to help his wife.
When the two women were done eating, Samuel needed to gauge their intent. Unwilling to disturb his wife or Royale, he asked through Judah, “Are you planning to go to Canada?”
The two women assented with nods.
Samuel watched the cousin’s drawn face for any betrayal of motive for this flight all the way to Canada. He saw only fear and worry and suffering.
Judah relayed their question. “They want to know how far Canada is from here.”
“Over a week, I reckon, by wagon.” Samuel knew that the other runaways had also headed to Canada, the only safe place for a slave to go. But what about Honor’s cousin? What was she running from?
Judah asked this question for Samuel.
“The maid will only say they won’t be safe till they both are in Canada.” Judah turned and signed, “I don’t understand either why a white woman is running away.”
Was this woman in her right mind? Taking her maid and running away like a slave herself? Something worse than he could imagine must have happened. But he wasn’t sure it was his place to dig deeper and wondered why his wife didn’t talk to her cousin. None of this added up.
He realized then that he must act. Honor was evidently not able or willing to take action, to face whatever her cousin’s appearance had triggered. He�
�d let other runaways go off by themselves. But he refused to entertain the idea of letting these two defenseless women go north alone. Regardless of what had happened in Maryland, this woman was his wife’s blood kin. No matter what, one didn’t abandon family.
“Judah, tell them,” he signed, “that we will leave for Canada tomorrow at first light. We can just behave as if the maid is a servant traveling with us.”
His wife’s cousin vehemently shook her head no and began speaking rapidly.
“She says,” Judah translated, “that while her husband away, they traveled together as a veiled lady and her maid. They arrived in Cincinnati together but slipped out of the city in the dark because they were afraid that Miss Darah’s husband would come seeking a lady and her maid. They don’t want anyone to see them here with Honor or traveling with her so their trail dead-ends.
“They want to just disappear, leave no trace. You see, in Canada the maid can refuse to return to her master and the court will uphold her. But a wife would not be able to refuse to return to her husband. No one would stop a man from carrying his wife off.”
Samuel stared at them a long time, struck by this truth, wondering at this arrangement, waiting for his wife to speak. Finally he gave up and assured the women that they would be transported in secret. Raising a hand, he bid them a wordless good night.
Judah again shut them up in the secret room. Usually runaways only stayed one night. What if the catchers had gone back to Cincinnati to get a warrant?
Outside, Judah walked Royale back to the kitchen while Samuel and Honor headed toward their cabin. Honor drifted beside him as a silent stranger into their bedroom. The boys were already asleep in the loft above. He turned to his wife, trying to think of some way to reach her.
“We will have to leave Judah to protect Royale and Perlie and the boys,” she signed abruptly. “I will have to drive.”
He agreed. Hovering near, he longed to hold her, something which had become more natural to them of late, but he hesitated to touch her now. Somehow the arrival of her cousin had distanced her from him in a way he couldn’t breach. And now they must face the journey to and from Canada with her. Samuel did not understand why a wife would flee her husband. He tried to imagine Honor running away from him, but that was impossible.
APRIL 5, 1820
Early the next day, Samuel opened the concealed door. He waved the women out of the hidden room and toward the wagon, parked in the barn. In the dim light, he whipped back the tarpaulin and showed them the empty bay in the middle between boxes of bottles. He’d strapped the boxes onto secured shelves so they would not fall on the women when the wagon rocked.
Samuel helped them into the wagon, pointing to a pallet they could lie on to soften the ride. After securing the tarpaulin again, he overcame his reluctance with the horses and led the team out of the barn and to the house.
At the cabin door, Eli and Caleb stood rubbing their eyes, still in their nightshirts.
Honor stepped outside as well, dressed in her boots, gray dress, and bonnet for the journey. “While we’re away, boys, help Judah with the animals and mind thy elders,” she signed and said. “We’ll be back as soon as we can, but it will be a while.”
“Do you got to go?” Eli said, appearing a bit worried. Caleb stood close to Eli, also looking strained.
“Yes, we do,” Honor said. “But we will return.” God, help us.
Samuel stooped and hugged each boy, reassuring them. Caleb looked like a lost lamb. Samuel stroked his hair and kissed his forehead. Then he rose.
Judah, Royale, and Perlie arrived and stood near the boys. “Don’t you worry,” Judah said. “I’ll make sure everyone stays safe.”
“If any catchers make trouble here, go to Micah or Thad,” Honor said. “They will stand up for thee.”
Then she let Samuel help her up onto the wagon, noting a rifle, which Judah had taught him how to shoot, resting at his side. No wonder. Shawnee and Wyandot still roamed the state. And bandits and slave catchers.
The round trip would take at least two weeks over routes that were more wheel tracks than roads. As she grasped the reins in her leather-gloved hands and slapped them, heading down Lebanon Road, Honor’s nerve nearly failed her.
She didn’t know if she had the courage or the strength to do this. But Darah was her blood, and something must have gone very wrong in Maryland. What could Alec have done? She wanted to know, yet she hoped she would never find out.
The trees crowded close to the wheel tracks on the crude road to Dayton. Honor slumped on the hard bench, weary of holding the reins, stiff from the day of driving. At least the past weeks had been dry, so mud didn’t slow or stop them. The front wheel hit another deep rut. As the horses struggled with the lines, Honor encouraged them forward with care. “Easy.”
Ahead, Honor glimpsed a break in the forest. She urged the team over the ruts. They still had a few hours of sunlight, but her stomach rumbled with hunger. All day her unruly mind had brought up memory of home after memory of home. Would it let her sleep, let her forget?
When they reached a clearing, Honor turned the wagon off the road. She drove in as far as possible. A log cabin, perhaps one from a long-gone French fur trapper, had fallen into partial ruin there, and she heard a brook running nearby. “Whoa!” She hauled back on the reins and halted the team. “Hello the house!” No one responded. “We’ll stop here tonight,” she told Samuel.
He nodded, getting down and walking to the rear.
Irritated that her husband went to help her cousin first, Honor moved slowly and eased herself off the bench and down to the thick spring grass. She limped around to the rear also, trying not to have uncharitable thoughts.
Samuel was already lifting out the boxes of bottles that hemmed in the hidden women. Both of them were lying down, and they slowly clambered out when Samuel cleared an opening. While Honor had sat on a hard bench, controlling and guiding a team of horses over a narrow, rutted road, Darah had lain all day on a pallet. Resentment curdled in Honor’s stomach in spite of herself.
Samuel turned to her, signing, “I was coming to help you. They have been trapped, cramped all day.”
His explanation didn’t change the way she felt. She turned and stiffly walked away, heading toward the creek, where she could drink and splash away the sweat and grit on her face and neck.
“Honor,” Darah called, “don’t run from me. We need to talk. I was too frightened and tired before to try to explain, but you need to know.”
Honor didn’t stop, didn’t slow. But she heard her cousin pursuing her through the tall grass, crunching pinecones underfoot. She felt like outrunning Darah, but suddenly her resolve wilted. Darah caught up with her.
Honor didn’t turn to acknowledge her. She slipped through the trees and hurried the last few steps to the creek. Removing her shoes, she lifted the back of her plain gray skirt and tucked it into her thin belt. She waded out into the chilly water and bent to splash it on her face and neck.
“I know you don’t want me here,” Darah said, following her into the water, not bothering to tuck up her skirt of fine cotton.
Honor stared at her cousin, who stood erect and defiant.
“I know what kind of man Mr. Alec be,” the new maid spoke up. She must have trailed Darah to the creek. “I born on his land. I see what he did to my mistress.”
Honor wanted to ask, Did what? She couldn’t form the words.
Darah rolled up her sleeve and held out her bare arm. “See what he did to me.”
When Honor saw a pronounced lump between the wrist and elbow, she gasped and nearly slipped on the slick creek pebbles.
“This happened only weeks after our wedding. Alec threw me against the fireplace and broke my arm. My maid, Sally—” she nodded toward the other woman—“bound it as well as she could, but …”
Honor looked into her cousin’s eyes. She pulled back at the stark suffering she saw there. Revulsion over the injury hit her and she bent, gasping against wave
s of nausea.
Sally waded farther into the creek. “White folk didn’t know, but Mr. Martin’s slaves did. He got a mean streak.”
“It is true,” Darah affirmed. “I couldn’t believe it either at first. But sometimes it’s like he goes mad. It’s terrifying what he does in a rage.”
Honor tried to put this together in her mind.
“Honor, I am not lying.” Darah grabbed her hand. “I can’t go back to him. He threatened that if I tried to leave him, he’d have me locked up as insane. If he finds me and takes me back, my life won’t be worth living. I’ll kill myself first.”
Honor’s pulse skipped and jumped with emotions she didn’t want to confront. What was true? The memory of her last conversation with Alec in the garden of High Oaks returned. How he had slashed the air with his cane and gripped her arms. She’d thought it was due to the intensity of his feelings for her, but now she was forced to admit she had been deceived.
APRIL 12, 1820
A week later, the four of them had passed through busy Detroit and ferried across the Detroit River to prosperous Windsor, Canada. Now in a cozy log inn, they sat at supper in a private dining parlor so Sally could eat with them. Though already partway into the evening, golden sunlight flowed through the open windows. Finely woven cheesecloth hung over each, keeping out most of the mosquitoes yet letting in the evening breeze.
Honor sat beside her husband, trying not to look at Darah, across from her. Even though the horrible truth of Darah’s marriage had been revealed, Honor’s sense of hurt and upheaval festered. Still, Samuel’s solid presence bolstered her. She might not be certain her husband would ever love her, but she couldn’t imagine Samuel ever turning his strength against her. Once she’d believed Alec loved her, but she’d been proved wrong, and in so many ways. Maybe Alec didn’t know what love meant. She recalled their last conversation. He’d started it with, “What about me?”
They’d ordered an evening meal of smoked grouse with a delicious cranberry sauce. Honor, drained in every way, just picked at her food, trying to revive herself. Even though it would mean another day of driving the team, she couldn’t wait till the day after tomorrow when they could leave Darah here and head back to Sharpesburg.
