“You’re going to get hung for this, Nigger!” she screamed.
“So be it. Without my baby and my husband, ain’t much more to live for. I ain’t scared to die, Ms. Gayle – but you are,” Hannah smiled. Gayle quickly stopped laughing and fell further to the ground in distress. The sound of a broken tree branch was heard. Hannah stood up straighter, looked over to her side as she kept her eye on Gayle.
“Hannah,” someone said softly. Gayle looked up.
“Help!” she screamed. “Help me!” she repeated.
“Shut up!” Hannah exclaimed as she shoved the gun violently against Gayle’s forehead.
“Hannah, let her go,” Master Stewart said softly as he approached the two women. Hannah peered into the darkness, quickly switching her gaze from Master Stewart to Gayle and back.
“How’d you know I was here?” Hannah asked harshly.
“Your mother was worried about you. She knows you well.” Master Stewart said as he continued to approach her.
“Don’t come any closer, Master Stewart,” Hannah warned.
“OK – OK,” he said, putting his hands up in the air.
“Your mother wouldn’t want you to do this, Hannah,” he added softly.
“Well, my mother wouldn’t want me to do a lot of things that I’ve done, and she wouldn’t want me to say a lot of things that I’ve said!” Hannah hissed.
“Hannah, your mother told me what happened to you and to John and the baby. I want to tell you how sorry I am for all of this. If I had just left John alone, he would’ve never been with Gayle, and you two could’ve lived your life. I’m the one responsible, so why don’t you let Gayle go and talk to me,” Master Stewart pleaded.
“Ain’t nothin’ to talk about wit’ you,” Hannah said calmly. “All of what you said is true, but Gayle’s a grown woman. She chose to get me arrested and have my baby taken away from me. Now she gotta pay,” Hannah added.
“Hannah, I believe I can help. I want to take you back to New York and help you and John get your baby back. I know many people there, and I can find out who has him and get him back. I promise.” Master Stewart kept his hands up and looked at Hannah sincerely. His eyes, though surrounded with crow’s feet, were identical match to John’s. Master Stewart’s thick, white-silver hair glistened in the moonlight like liquid iron and spun silk.
“Hannah, I love you like you’re my own daughter. Gayle’s not worth you throwing everything away for. Put the gun down, and let’s go,” he urged. Hannah rocked back and forth on her heels, the gun still shoved into Gayle’s forehead. Master Stewart slowly approached Hannah.
“Hannah, you’re not a killer. This isn’t you,” he whispered.
“I’ll be anything I need to be to get some peace and make the pain stop.” Hannah coughed back irate tears.
“It will stop because we’re going to find my grandson!” Master Stewart exclaimed. “I won’t rest until we find him Hannah, and we will, and he’ll be returned to you. You won’t go back to jail, I promise you. Just put that gun down.” Master Stewart urged. Hannah slowly took two small steps away from Gayle. Master Stewart walked over to Gayle and helped her up.
“Hannah, you stay right here. Don’t leave,” he ordered. Master Stewart escorted Gayle back into her house and closed the door behind them. He was gone for approximately ten minutes. Hannah stood outside with the gun ready. Sweat covering her face, she shook with anger. Master Stewart returned unhurriedly, closing the door behind him. He walked down the porch steps into the yard.
“Let’s go.” He took Hannah’s hand and led her to his carriage. Hannah got inside. They rode silently back to the Stewart mansion with the moonlight waving at their backs.
* * *
CHAPTER 18
“Mary, we’re leaving now. Please hold down the fort,” Master Stewart smiled and kissed Mary on the cheek as she waved goodbye to him and her daughter. Hannah remained staunchly quiet as they boarded the train. They took their seats. Hannah faced away from him with a grim expression, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly. Master Stewart sighed. Hannah could smell the muskiness of his cologne. He was dressed expensively and held tightly to his bag and briefcase.
“Hannah,” he said as he lit his pipe, “Gayle will no longer be an issue for you.” Hannah grunted.
“I should think not,” she said sarcastically. Master Stewart chuckled.
“Girl, I never thought you had it in you. I think John is going to be very surprised by this news. I don’t condone what you did. That was very dangerous, and there are people that wouldn’t blink an eye about hanging you for it, but I must say you surely surprised me.” He shook his head in disbelief. Hannah remained motionless.
“I also had Gayle sign the divorce papers so that this matter wouldn’t linger any longer. I had a talk with her. She won’t file charges against you. It cost me some money, but she’s now out of the way. I think you scared her in a way she’s never felt,” Master Stewart said seriously.
“Now, onto the business at hand.” He tapped Hannah’s small hand. “We’re going to get that baby back, do you hear me?” he said sternly. Hannah looked over at him. Her eyes were darkened and sullen.
“I hope so. I die a little bit each day,” she said before turning back away to look out of the window.
“I let John know this morning via telegraph that you were with me. He was terribly worried, Hannah. You almost gave him a heart attack. I didn’t tell him what happened. I thought that was a matter best discussed face to face,” Master Stewart explained. Hannah deeply sighed. Master Stewart opened his briefcase and put on his reading glasses. He thumbed through various papers and made small notes. Hannah stared out of the window until she fell asleep. Her dreams were tortuous, sweet, and exceptional. Images from her son being born to her time in jail raced in her mind. The cold steel in her hand and the look on Gayle’s face took center stage. Hannah smiled in her sleep as her subconscious thoughts returned to holding her son for the first time and the realization that he was John’s. She awoke suddenly to Master Stewart shaking her shoulder.
“Come on Hannah. Let’s get you back home,” he said with a light smile. Hannah stood up and grabbed her bag and hat. She took Master Stewart’s hand as he led her off the train. They took a wagon ride to the ferry landing. Hannah smelled the salt in the air as she stepped around aimlessly. Master Stewart handed Hannah a pear he’d purchased from a nearby store.
“Here, Hannah. You need to eat,” he said caringly as he bit into his own. Hannah looked at the pear closely, studying its contrast from light green, to red to yellow before biting into the sandy skin and juicy flesh. The ferry soon approached. They boarded it. Hannah held her stomach in angst. The queasiness returned. She leaned over the side of the boat haphazardly. Master Stewart patted her back. He looked at her up and down with a slightly disturbed expression.
“Are you with child again?” he asked as he opened his newspaper.
“No, I don’t believe so. I just think these rides don’t agree with me,” she said breathlessly. Hannah removed a handkerchief from her purse and wiped the corners of her mouth.
“In any case, after all that’s occurred, it may suit you well to see a doctor,” Master Stewart advised without looking away from the paper. Hannah nodded. She rested her head on his shoulder, much to Master Stewart’s surprise. He smiled down at her as he watched her tired eyes slowly close.
“Everything is going to be alright, Hannah. We’ll make it right,” he whispered in her sleeping ear.
* * *
CHAPTER 19
“I’ve been up all night! Hannah, how could you do this?” John yelled angrily as he snatched her bag from her hand. Hannah shrugged her shoulders and walked up the steps to their bedroom, slamming the heavy door behind her.
“She looks like hell!” John spat. “Father, thank you for bringing her home. I don’t know what got into her. She hasn’t been herself lately. I can’t say I particularly blame her,” he added calmly.
; “John, I think you better sit down.” John looked at his father curiously.
“Why, of course. Come have a seat. Would you like something to drink?” John offered as he walked briskly into the kitchen.
“A glass of water will suffice,” Master Stewart said as he made himself comfortable. He looked around John’s house and nodded silently in approval. John returned into the nicely decorated living room and handed his father a cool glass of water.
“Before you start on Hannah’s and my being together, I want to warn you I’m in no mood,” John yelled before taking his seat. Master Stewart waved his hand and rolled his light blue eyes.
“John, son, no. I’m not here to dig up those old bones again. I’m actually here to help you. It should come as no surprise to you at this point that Hannah told Mary everything that’s transpired. Why did you not contact me? You surely had to have remembered my affiliation with such matters and I could’ve assisted?” Master Stewart questioned. John looked down at his shoes then away into the distance.
“Because she’s my wife, and it’s my duty to protect and take care of her. Getting you involved would’ve only…”
“Wounded your pride,” Master Stewart said softly. “Son, there’s no time or room for pride when your child is missing. For God’s sake, your wife was in prison. The trial is tomorrow, correct?” he asked as he pulled papers out of his briefcase.
“Yes. I tried to get it dismissed to no avail. Gayle’s done irreparable damage,” John said as he folded his hands together. Master Stewart sighed.
“Speaking of Gayle, you will be pleased to know I was able to get her to sign the divorce papers. I know the process was moving forward, but this should speed things along a bit. More importantly, however, Hannah and Gayle had a little run-in.” John looked up suddenly. His eyes glowed with confusion and worry.
“A run-in? Of what sort?” He sat up straight. Master Stewart grinned.
“Hannah takes her duties as a mother seriously, John.”
“I know this, Father. Get to the point please,” John urged.
“Hannah went to Gayle’s house and confronted her. I believe if I hadn’t have showed up, honestly, Gayle would be dead right now and Hannah would be – not coming back here.” Master Stewart took a long sip of his water. John sat quietly looking across the table at his father with severe uneasiness imprinted on his face.
“What did she do?” John asked quietly.
“She roughed her up pretty good, drug her to the woods surrounding your house, and put a gun to her head. When I looked at her, I didn’t see the Hannah I’ve known since she was a baby. It was like she was possessed. That’s what grief will do to some women. She was content with the notion of blowing that girl’s brains out.” Master Stewart shook his head. John put his hands on his forehead and leaned back with his mouth open.
“Oh, my Lord,” he finally said as he looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t even know how she would’ve known where Gayle lived. Just the same, I have no idea how Gayle knew where I lived to report such a thing. Women are very peculiar creatures.” John said as he leaned forward.
“They’re very crafty and sly,” Master Stewart added with a chuckle. “Hannah has proven since she was a little girl that she’s underestimated. You told me so yourself. I had no idea she could read and write until you told me. A few months after I had her sent down south, I found all of these poems she’d written, great poems. I wouldn’t have even known she’d written such complex, bold thoughts if her initials weren’t signed to the bottom of each paper. Then to see her holding a gun to another person’s head and not having a scared bone in her little body surprised me. Hannah was always…”
“So sweet – so innocent,” John completed. “Underneath that surface is a woman that feels deeply and lives in a world that you nor I understand nor will we ever.” John stood up and paced. “I always thought she was so pretty, Father. I always knew, though, she was much more. I’ve seen her suffer greatly as of late. I know that if we don’t find our son, I will not have only lost my child, but I’ll also lose her forever. I love Jonathan as much as she does, but hers is a different kind of love for him – the love between a mother and a child. It’s more intense and a bond that I’ll never come close to.” Master Stewart nodded.
“This is true. Your mother wanted you more than she wanted anything in this world, John. I know if she was told in advance that she’d die having you, she’d still do it all over again.” Master Stewart stood up and patted his son’s shoulder. “Now, let’s not waste another moment. Let’s find my grandson.”
* * *
Master Stewart stood in the courthouse. He leaned against the wall as the judge spoke into his ear. Hannah sat meekly in a chair, playing with her fingernails. Master Stewart nodded and smiled then turned to John and Hannah.
“Hannah, the charges will stand, but there’ll be no jail time. There’s a rather steep fine to be paid, but that’s all. John, you however are suspended from practicing law in the state of New York for one year.” John ran his fingers through his hair and begrudgingly nodded in agreement.
“John, I can get the money by sewing. Some women down at the dry goods shop saw my dress when we first moved here, and I told ’em I did it myself. They want to pay me to do their curtains and dresses,” Hannah said weakly.
“Hannah, that’s fine, but it’s not necessary,” John assured.
“No, I’ll do it. If you can’t work for all that time, then I need to bring in some money. I know how to make money. It will help take my mind off – Jonathan.” Hannah’s eyes watered up. John grabbed and held her close, kissing the top of her head.
“Sweetheart, we’ll find him!” He kissed her again, embracing her as tightly as he could. Master Stewart cleared his throat.
“You two may want to refrain from any fondness until you’re behind closed doors,” he urged. John nodded in agreement as he released Hannah from his grip.
“John, though you can’t represent anyone in court, you can teach at one of the universities. I’ll see what I can do,” Master Stewart offered.
“No, Father. I know what to do. There are other options. Once the year suspension is lifted, I’ll have my own practice. I’ll prepare for it in the interim and continue to assist my colleagues. I just simply won’t be taking on any clients from this point forward.”
“Very well. Now, let’s get on with the matter of Jonathan Abraham Stewart. I wish to go to the colored orphanage alone. John, I want you to stay with Hannah. Obviously your trip to New Jersey provided you no new information?” Master Stewart asked.
“That’s correct. He’s not there. I have no reason to believe otherwise. A youngster matching his approximate age and description was in the dwelling, but he belonged to a white woman who clearly was his biological mother.” John sighed with disappointment.
“Take Hannah home, and you will hear word from me soon,” Master Stewart said as he placed his hat on his head. He reached for Hannah’s arm. “Try to get some rest,” he said softly in her ear before disappearing through the courtroom doors.
* * *
“Please, have a seat Mr. Stewart. My name’s Sophia White. It’s come to our attention the matter of Jonathan Stewart. Due to the information supplied by the police, however, our hands are tied,” Mrs. White said, her eyes darting about the room. Master Stewart sat down in the chair and removed his hat. He sighed as he lit his pipe.
“I’m sorry, but that’s not an acceptable means to take care of this matter. Because of your ineptness, I may have to call for some favors,” Master Stewart said evenly.
“Are you threatening us?” Mrs. White asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Of course not. I’m simply stating facts. I’m certain you wouldn’t want attention from the press. Now granted, there’s little regard for colored and mulatto children usually. This isn’t an atypical phenomenon. The issue, however, is whom this mulatto child belongs to. I will, in fact, use my power, my name, my reputation, and whatever else is n
ecessary to retrieve the child and return him to his rightful parents. I’ve tried diligently to not allow any of this private matter to seep out into journalistic hands. I’m a man of great esteem and didn’t wish for any public entities to know of my son’s situation, for it surely would cast a negative shadow upon me. However, I’ve come to the conclusion after much deliberation that he’s still my son, and that young baby that’s misplaced is my grandson, regardless of any shame or discomfiture I may associate with this matter,” Master Stewart explained. Mrs. White pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and pursed her lips.
“As a mulatto myself, I understand the double-edged sword that our existence creates for others who are led to easy confusion. Regardless, I’d like to help you, but I just don’t see how I can legally do so. I’ll send word to the adoptive parents of the matter. We can only hope that their hearts will be understanding to the matter at hand,” she said aloofly.
“Mrs. White, that’s simply not good enough. I’m sorry that this couple, whomever they may be, will have to give up a child that over the past few weeks they may have grown an attachment towards, but it pales in comparison to that of the biological mother and father. This child is wanted, desperately wanted, and we’ll stop at nothing to get him back. I owe it to my son. I owe it to my grandson. I owe it to Mary.”
“Who’s Mary?” Mrs. White asked.
“It does not matter, just understand that there are many people counting on me to rectify this situation, and I’ll do just that. Do you know Mr. Abram Stevens Hewitt?” Master Stewart questioned.
“Why of course I know of him, he’s the mayor of New York,” Mrs. White said, rolling her eyes.
“Well, I know him personally. Despite our having some difference of opinion as it pertains to political beliefs, he’s a friend of mine, a very close friend of mine indeed. I’m sure he’d love to have me over for dinner. He’s been asking for me to visit for quite some time. Here, have a look at this,” Master Stewart requested as he pulled out several photographs and papers from his briefcase. “Here Abram and I are at the iron mill,” Master Stewart smiled. “Here we are at his wedding. See, that’s me there in the middle.” Master Stewart laughed. “His wife’s Mr. Cooper’s daughter, and she…”
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