The Long Way Home

by Lauraine Snelling

  Getting married was a big step under the best of circumstances, but thanks to Aunt Agatha . . . Jesselynn changed her thought track deliberately. It wasn’t just Aunt Agatha. It was a whole world that thought the color of a man’s skin of more import than his character. Would she ever be able to take her whole family back to Twin Oaks? No closer to answers, she and Ahab watched the sun break free from the horizon to announce a new day. Her wedding day.

  ‘‘Oh, Jesse, you look so purty.’’ Thaddeus stared at his sister, eyes round as his mouth. When he started toward her, Jane Ellen grabbed him by the shirttails.

  ‘‘No, don’t touch her. You don’t want to get her dress dirty, do you?’’

  Thaddeus looked down at his hands, up at Jesselynn, then over his shoulder at Jane Ellen. ‘‘I not dirty.’’ For safe measure he wiped his hands on his new britches.

  ‘‘Come here, little brother. Look in the mirror and see how fine you look.’’ Jesselynn took his hand, and together they stared at the reflection in the oval, oak-framed floor mirror.

  The rich cream silk showed off her shoulders and nipped in at her slender waist. Tiny pearl buttons ran from the dip in the sweetheart neckline to the point of the bodice an inch or two below her natural waistline. Wide enough for hoops, but buoyed by crinolines instead, the skirt hosted swirls of lace and seed pearls. The dress might have seen balls and cotillions in its early life, but like Jesselynn, it was far from a society that had use for such a garment.

  Jesselynn bent over and kissed the top of her brother’s head. ‘‘Don’t you look handsome?’’ A blousy white shirt with a navy tie was tucked into deep blue pants cut just above his knees, one scraped from a fall over the steps not an hour before.

  Would that her other brother would look at Wolf with the adoration of Thaddeus.

  ‘‘You ready?’’

  He nodded.

  ‘‘Then I reckon we better head for the chapel.’’

  ‘‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God . . .’’

  Jesselynn ached to turn around and see if Aunt Agatha came to the wedding, but instead she looked up at Wolf. The black suit he wore made him look like any other gentleman, Southern or Northern, only more handsome. Many of the French Creoles from Louisiana were darker skinned than he. She’d met them at Keeneland, the racetrack in Lexington. She brought her attention back to the black-garbed man in front of her, his deep voice saying the words she’d so longed to hear.

  Mama, Daddy, I hope you’re seeing this and giving us your blessing. Surely you know answers by now to some of my questions. And God, if you could put a bug in Aunt Agatha’s ear, I’d sure be appreciative.

  When the minister asked if anyone opposed this marriage, Jesselynn waited with her breath in her throat. Surely this was the time, but when no one answered, she let herself breathe again.

  Wolf turned and took her hands in his. Thoughts of anything other than the light in his eyes fled her mind.

  ‘‘I, Gray Wolf Torstead, take thee, Jesselynn Highwood, to be my wedded wife.’’ He repeated the words after the chaplain, his voice strong and sure, his handclasp warm and dry. He looked deep within to her very soul as he finished the age-old words.

  ‘‘Now repeat after me . . .’’ The chaplain nodded to her.

  Jesselynn spoke the words, her lips trembling, but her voice even. ‘‘I, Jesselynn Highwood, take thee . . . to have and to hold from this day forward . . . and therefore I plight thee my troth.’’ Safe and sure, their hands bound together along with their hearts, they bowed their heads to pray, repeated the ‘‘I do’s,’’ and turned back to the chaplain for the blessing. When he pronounced them husband and wife, she went into Wolf ’s arms like she’d been waiting for him all of her life. They held each other, then shared a kiss both chaste and full of promise.

  ‘‘But, Jane Ellen, I got to go pee.’’ Thaddeus’s whisper carried to the front of the room.

  Jesselynn could feel her face grow warm, knowing it was not due to the temperature outdoors or in the room.

  As Jane Ellen scooted out the door with Thaddeus on her hip, chuckles flitted around the room like butterflies, and Jes-selynn and Wolf turned to face the gathering. Mrs. McPhereson sniffed and honked into her hanky.

  ‘‘Praise de Lawd and all Him handiwork,’’ Ophelia sang from the rear.

  Jesselynn smiled up at the man whose arm she held. ‘‘Well, Mr. Torstead, shall we go greet our guests?’’

  After shaking hands with everyone as they left the chapel, Jesselynn and Wolf followed Mrs. Jensen to the mess hall, where trestle tables groaned beneath the abundance of food. Elk haunches stood waiting to be carved, vegetables from the commissary gardens, fresh-baked bread, baked beans, and dishes of all kinds sat rim to rim so that the only tablecloth showing was that hanging down the sides. A white frosted wedding cake, decorated with wild asters, reigned on a separate table, as did the drinks next to it—coffee, tea, and lemonade. Bouquets of wild asters and daisies graced every table, and here and there nodded roses from the general’s garden.

  ‘‘Oh.’’ Jesselynn stood in the doorway, gazing at it all and fighting the tears that had threatened during the ceremony. All the work these women have done for us. What an amazing gift.

  ‘‘Right purty, isn’t it?’’ Jane Ellen, Thaddeus in tow, squeezed in beside her.

  ‘‘Me go play.’’ Thaddeus looked up at Jesselynn. ‘‘Please?’’

  ‘‘We’ll eat first.’’ Wolf swung the child up into his arms. Now that Thaddeus could see, he spotted the cake immediately.

  ‘‘Look, Jesse, cake.’’ He pointed to the white confection in the corner.

  ‘‘I know. I’m surprised you remember what one is.’’

  ‘‘Come on up here so we can have grace and serve our bride and groom. Then the line forms to the right.’’ Captain Jensen waited until all was quiet before raising his voice for all to hear. ‘‘Heavenly Father, we come before thee this day with joyful hearts. Thank you for blessing all of us with this wedding and with the food our folks have prepared. We ask that thou will bless this union and bring health and happiness to this couple. In thy holy name we pray, amen.’’

  By the time everyone had helped themselves, the room fairly rocked with laughter and buzzing conversation. Children ran in and out, Patch barked from the front step, and before long a fiddle tuned up out on the parade ground.

  After cake and drinks, they followed the music outside for the dancing to begin. Jesselynn and Wolf danced the first waltz.

  ‘‘I think I’ve about forgotten how to dance.’’ Jesselynn lost herself in Wolf ’s dark eyes.

  ‘‘Then we can stumble together. I never had much time for dancin’ on the wagon trains, and my people didn’t exactly dance this way when I was growing up.’’

  Jesselynn leaned back in his arms, the better to study his face. ‘‘When will you tell me about growin’ up in the tribe?’’

  ‘‘Someday. You will meet my relatives one day.’’

  The thought made her pause, only a fraction of a moment, but still he caught it. ‘‘You need not fear them.’’

  Fear wasn’t a word she had applied so far, but horror stories were whispered about Indian attacks and how they hated whites. Getting her family through to Oregon had taken up too much of her time and energy to worry about something that might or might not happen. Meshach’s admonition that they trust the Lord for their protection carried over to other things besides Indian attacks.

  ‘‘As you say, my husband.’’ Ah, what pleasure to say such words. My husband. She repeated the words several more times in her mind.

  ‘‘I say so, my wife.’’ He drew her closer and rested his chin on the top of her head. ‘‘My wife.’’ His voice deepened, warmed, licked at her senses.

  The music ended with a flourish, and those gathered around clapped, and someone whistled. Jesselynn felt the red creeping up her neck. She’d forgotten they danced in such a public place. It seemed there’d been only the two
of them and that the music might go on forever.

  The fiddle sang into a reel, and men and women lined up on opposite sides. Every time she passed Wolf, he winked at her. About the third time, she started to giggle, and with each additional wink, it grew worse. By the end of the dance she collapsed against a hitching post, out of breath from both the fast footwork and the giggles.

  ‘‘Me dance.’’ Thaddeus stood beside her.

  ‘‘Of course.’’ She picked him up, and they whirled away together, he with his legs locked securely around her waist, she with her arms around his middle. They dipped and swirled until Wolf tapped her shoulder and took the little boy off with him, this time riding on his tall shoulders.

  Jane Ellen’s gaze followed Wolf around the dancers. ‘‘He do be one fine figure of a man.’’

  ‘‘That’s for sure.’’ Jesselynn waved her hand in front of her face to create a breeze of some sort. ‘‘But I’ve been noticing a certain young man looking your way.’’

  ‘‘Who?’’ Jane Ellen glanced around the gathered people.

  ‘‘He’s wearing a blue uniform, and now that he thinks I’m looking at him, his cheeks are as red as the roses on the table.’’ Jesselynn nodded over to a young private who doffed his visored cap and blushed even more. ‘‘You’re going to dance with him now that he’s coming, right?’’

  ‘‘I guess. Do you know his name?’’

  ‘‘No, but I’m sure we will in a moment.’’ Jesselynn dropped her voice so he wouldn’t hear.

  The young man doffed his hat, half bowed, and in a voice that cracked only once, said, ‘‘I’m Private Henry Workman.’’ Even his ears turned red. ‘‘And canIhavethisdance?’’

  Jesselynn gave Jane Ellen a nudge in the back. ‘‘This is my friend, Jane Ellen.’’

  ‘‘Pleased to meet you, Miss.’’ He extended his hand.

  Jane Ellen shot Jesselynn a look of panic, swallowed, and stepped forward. ‘‘I don’t dance too good.’’

  ‘‘Me neither.’’ The two started off, stiff as two porch posts.

  Jesselynn glanced around the assembled folks in the hope that Aunt Agatha had changed her mind and at least enjoyed some of the festivities.

  ‘‘She won’t be comin’.’’ Nate Lyons spoke softly from behind her. ‘‘I tried, Miss Jesselynn. I surely did, but that Miss Agatha is one stubborn woman.’’

  ‘‘I know.’’ But I do hope she comes around.

  ‘‘She said ’twere none of my business, but it really is. I care about that woman, if you haven’t already surmised that.’’ He hung back, as if not wanting to look Jesselynn in the face.

  ‘‘I had me an idea.’’

  ‘‘I’m a-fixin’ to ask her to walk out with me. You think she will?’’

  ‘‘I’m a poor one to ask at this point. She won’t even speak to me, nor come to my wedding.’’

  ‘‘I told her that times are a-changin’, and what used to be in the South won’t be in the West.’’

  ‘‘I’m sure that made her very happy.’’

  His chuckle turned into a snort, then a guffaw. ‘‘Not hardly, Miss Jesselynn. Not hardly a’tall. But you mark my words, she’ll marry me before winter.’’

  ‘‘Lord’s blessing to you, Mr. Lyons. Now, will you look at that.’’ She nodded to Jane Ellen and her young man. ‘‘I reckon she’s growing right up.’’ At least perhaps this young man can help her get over her crush on Wolf. While Jane Ellen had never said a word, the way she leaped to serve him and spoke his name with a mixture of gentleness and awe had announced her admiration of Wolf as surely as if she’d blown a trumpet.

  ‘‘Ah, my dear, you make a lovely bride.’’ Mrs. Jensen strolled up with her arm through her husband’s.

  ‘‘Thanks to your lovely gown.’’ Jesselynn stroked down the sides of the creamy silk with both hands. The skirt and petticoat swished against her legs as she whirled through the dances, making her grateful that hoops weren’t de rigueur out on the plains. And since she’d not been laced into a corset, she could enjoy the dancing without a near faint.

  ‘‘No, it is not just the gown. Your face shines with happiness. We do’’—she glanced up at her husband, who patted her hand on his arm—‘‘wish you all the best in God’s blessings.’’

  ‘‘Thank you.’’ Jesselynn sketched a curtsy. Her gaze automatically searched out Wolf, and when he smiled at her, she felt a quiver clear inside. That fine-looking man dancing with one of the officers’ wives was her husband. Would that she would never get over the joy of it. She remembered her mother telling her how, even after all their years of marriage, her heart still leaped when her husband entered the room. Oh, Father, to love like my mother and daddy is all I ask.

  ‘‘Come, Captain, surely you have the energy to dance with your wife. And, my dear’’—Rebeccah leaned closer to Jesselynn—‘‘ I see a certain fine young man is coming to claim his bride for this dance.’’

  Jesselynn and Wolf whirled away to the fast pace of a polka, their feet following the dance steps while their eyes made promises and their hands spoke only of love.

  Later, when the musicians took a much needed break, Jes-selynn and Wolf stood with the Jensens in the shade of one of the buildings sipping lemonade and the women fanning their faces.

  ‘‘The women of the camp have prepared the guest quarters for you to spend the night. We thought, well . . .’’

  The captain broke in with a laugh. ‘‘Rebeccah, your cheeks are as pink as Miss Jesselynn’s. I’m sure they appreciate the thought.’’

  ‘‘Yes, I . . . we . . .’’ Jesselynn glanced up at Wolf, who smiled down at her and nodded. ‘‘Thank you, and please thank all the others for us. You all worked so hard to make this day one to remember.’’ She tucked her arm in the crook of Wolf ’s elbow.

  ‘‘I’m just sorry your aunt felt unable to attend. Do you think if one of us were to go talk with her?’’ Rebeccah’s question was hesitant.

  Since Jesselynn had made no mention of Aunt Agatha, she wondered how they knew, or if they knew the real reason. Shaking her head, Jesselynn sighed. ‘‘I don’t know what will change her mind. Mr. Lyons tried, and I know Mrs. McPhereson spoke with her too.’’ The urge to tell the entire story almost made Jesselynn continue, but she stopped, knowing that Wolf did not need to hear it all. Instead of making up an excuse for her aunt and thus adding another lie to her long list, she just said Agatha was staying in camp.

  Before taking her wedding vows, Jesselynn had made a vow of another sort, this one only between God and herself. The vow to never lie again, to always tell the truth, made her feel fifty pounds lighter. Guilt was a heavy burden, one she no longer desired to carry, not that it had ever been her desire. Living the lies had been necessary to keep them safe, but no longer.

  Does Wolf realize what a burden he has assumed, all these people that make up our train? Widows, black folk learning to be free, a woman who has played the role of a man and liked a great deal of that role, a small boy with a temper like the other males in his family, and all the others. Good thing this man has broad shoulders.

  ‘‘Do you have all of your supplies for the Oglala?’’ Captain Jensen turned to Wolf.

  ‘‘Those that were available. And two packhorses to carry it all.’’ Wolf crossed his arms. ‘‘I still have more credit at the store. I’ll be bringing the horses back before winter.’’

  Jesselynn listened to the conversation. If they could catch wild horses, perhaps they would be bringing some of them in at the same time. If. So many ‘‘if ’s’’.

  The party broke up after dark, with folks going back to their quarters or wagons and Jesselynn saying good-night to Thaddeus.

  ‘‘But why you not come?’’ Thaddeus planted his fists on his hips, a banty rooster set to fight.

  ‘‘Because Wolf and I are staying here at the fort.’’

  ‘‘Why?’’

  ‘‘Because . . . because . . .’’ She looked up to Wolf from her kneeling position in f
ront of Thaddeus. She could feel heat creeping up her neck. Little brother, sometimes . . .

  ‘‘Because she is my wife and is going to stay with me.’’ Wolf leaned over and swung the boy up to sit on his arms.

  Thaddeus studied the man who held him. Blue eyes dueled with dark. ‘‘Tomorrow you come back?’’

  Wolf nodded. Thaddeus smiled and motioned to be set down. ‘‘Good.’’ Feet again on the ground, he ran to Jane Ellen and, taking her hand, waved as they left.

  As the crowd dispersed, Wolf and Jesselynn thanked everyone for coming and strolled over to the guest quarters, where a white bow hung on the door. Jesselynn could feel panic begin to bubble in her middle. Her feet didn’t want to climb the steps. She stumbled on the second one, saved from a fall by Wolf ’s strong arm.

  Lord, I hardly know this man!

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Richmond, Virginia

  ‘‘We’ll leave in the mornin’.’’

  Louisa stared at her brother, questions rioting through her mind. How had he gotten a leave of absence when he started the position with Jefferson’s firm not a week before? Where were they going, and what route would they take? And most important, what disguise would they use this time? The coffin trick had worked so well, but did they dare try it again?

  She waited, trying to be patient, but her foot tapped in spite of her. Zachary did not like to be questioned or rushed.

  When he resumed his writing, she cleared her throat.

  ‘‘Yes?’’

  From the look he gave her, she knew he’d forgotten her presence. How could he do that—concentrate on what he was doing and forget the rest of the world existed?

  ‘‘Have you nothing further to inform me regarding the trip?’’

  ‘‘I will tonight after I meet with—’’ He cut off the remainder of his thoughts, always careful to keep as much information to himself as possible. That way if they were ever questioned, she could say she didn’t know, without lying. Though he had explained that to her, she still felt he treated her like . . . like someone too young to trust.