by Jerri Hines
Jo shook her head. Everything was going too fast. She was openly confused, but she understood one thing. She would not abandon Gillie. She said, “She is my responsibility. It is my fault.”
“It is late, Miss Wright. Andrew may have been correct that we might not be able to do anything until morning,” he said. “I requested one stop before we arrive at the jail. My son may be of help.”
She wanted to protest, but a lump of sadness thickened her throat. She watched him in silence as he left the carriage when it stopped.
“You’re doing right, Miss Jo.”
Glancing at Rosa, Jo had almost forgotten her maid accompanied her. Heaving a laborious sigh, she said, “I almost ignored those dreadful men. How did you know it was Gillie?”
“Heyward sent word. I ran for you as soon as it came. I thought I was going to be too late.”
“I almost was gone,” Jo replied and eyed her maid suspiciously. She had the distinct impression that Rosa knew more than she said. “After our last meeting, I’m surprised Heyward came for me. I would have thought I would have been the last person he would have sought help from.”
“Heyward don’t hate ya. Ya hafta understand. Heyward was protecting his own. Ya being a sweet thing and all, but neither Gillie or you have a clue what the real world is like. He may have seemed harsh, but he knows what is out there. Gillie has always been too naïve. It’s dangerous in this time and place as ya see now.”
“It is my fault.”
“No, ma’am. It’s the way ya been raised. You are better than most. I can tell ya I’ve never seen a lady and her maid as close as the two of you. Why it was talked of back in Charleston more often than naught.”
“Talked of…Gillie and I?”
“Why Miss Clarissa would say it was like you had a little doll you would dress up and play with.”
Jo felt a tightness in her throat that signaled tears. She could ill afford to show weakness. She swallowed them back. In a low soft voice, she said defensively, “I…I never…” She paused. Then words flowed from her heart, “I love her as a sister. After Papa left me in Charleston, she was the only one I had…I thought it was the two of us always…I didn’t realize…she had no choice in the matter…it never occurred to me…”
Her words faded into the dark. Suddenly, she felt Rosa pat her hand.
“My, my, Miss Jo, don’t ca be crying. Ya a good person. Guess Gillie feels the same about ya or else Heyward wouldn’t have sent for ya.”
The door of the carriage opened. To Jo’s surprise, Cullen entered behind his father. She thought he would refuse to help, but he proved her wrong.
He had the look of one that had rushed to ready himself. His shirt still hung loose over his pants; his tie undone.
Plopping down across from her, he tucked in his shirt and tightened his belt. His eyes, though, lay on Jo. Despite all that had transpired between them, she felt her spirits lift.
Cullen set about to tie his cravat. His voice low and serious, he said, “Father told me what has transpired. If you are willing, I have a plan.”
* * * *
When at last they reached the jail, Jo was thankful that the Smythe men had accompanied her. It was no place for a lady, especially at this time of night. The three story red-brick building sat on the town square and seemed to be surrounded by police men and scruffy, dirty delinquents.
Cullen exited, leaving the others to wait. It seemed an eternity. The silence was broken only by a police wagon, which rolled to a stop beside them. Two officers unlocked the barred door. Three men emerged, bearded, tipsy fellows singing loudly.
Then she saw Cullen returning. He opened the carriage door and offered Jo, his hand.
“It is set.”
Jo walked up the steps, gripping tight to the railing. Cullen pushed open the front door and allowed her entrance. The corridor was dark and cold. Her heart beat rapidly but calmed when Cullen took her arm.
“This way.”
She let him led her into a dimly lit room. She flushed at the sight and was overwhelmed by the close, stuffy smell. An assortment of smells riddled the air between the smoking fire, tobacco fumes, and, she swore, the foul odor of liquor.
In the smoke-filled haze, a lone officer sat behind a desk littered with unread papers. A lamp sat at the edge. He looked up at her.
“You’re the one?” asked the pudgy man whose uniform jacket was unbuttoned. He pulled the top drawer out and grabbed a cigar. Lighting it, he puffed the smoke up in her face.
Coughing, she fanned the air around her and found her voice. “Yes, I am. I understand from that dreadful man you might have my girl. I do hope so, and that man hasn’t ruined a perfectly good night on a fool’s errand, especially with him barging into my hotel and announcing to the world I have lost one of my girls. It is embarrassing enough.”
“Sure it is, ma’am,” he uttered uncaringly and looked through the pile of papers. He grabbed one and read it. “Says here the owner is a Harry Lee Buchanan.”
“Well, I’ll be. So it was Harry Lee who has seen to my needs. I will have to thank my dear cousin, won’t I when I return?” She smiled at him pleasantly. “I can assure you if it’s my Gillie, she is mine or should I say my papa’s. He will be so pleased.”
“What proof do I have that she is yours?” he asked, leaning back in his chair with a cigar in hand.
Her smile widened. “Why what do you need? I arrived from Charleston last week and am staying at the Girard House. I’m to be married. Dr. Andrew Montgomery…he’s under the direction of Dr. Halcoyne here in Philadelphia. Do you know of him? Well, Andrew wasn’t able to return home for Christmas… It was absolutely horrible. I had to come all the way up here for the ceremony. I’m…”
“Ma’am,” he interrupted. “The runaway says she was freed.”
“Dear Gillie!” Jo went on. “We had talked to Papa about it, but I doubt Papa will agree now, not with her running like she did. Shame truly.”
The officer looked over at Cullen, who simply stated, “I imagine, a simple telegram would sufficient to Mr. Brantley Wright back in South Carolina. Granted, it will take time and Miss Wright was hoping to have the girl back by her wedding that is if it is her girl.”
The man grimaced. “Think you will have to wait until the hearing in the morning.”
“Oh, pooh!” Jo pouted. “Here I was set to pay you the reward.”
“Reward? That goes to the slave catcher, ma’am,” he said, taking another puff of the cigar.
“But if she wants her girl back tonight?” Cullen pressed and reached into his pocket. “I could give it to you to give to him. A hundred, wasn’t it? I’ll add another ten for your trouble.”
The man’s eyes bulged. Taking the cigar from his mouth, he laughed. “You will sign for the girl?”
Relief flooded her; she answered, “Why of course.”
The windows were lightening; morning was on the horizon with a promise of a new day. Jo had not slept. She waited now on a pew in Mother Bethel African Church to say goodbye to her friend.
Gillie had been freed, but she wasn’t out of harm’s way, not with Harry Lee bent upon revenge. He would not stop at one attempt. Cullen, his father, and Heyward discussed the situation in length and came to the conclusion it would be the safest course of action for the couple to leave Philadelphia and head north to Canada.
To Jo’s amazement, the hurried arrangements had been made with astonishing efficiency. There had been no confusion in the preparations, only the urgent need to leave before that slave catcher, Mann, realized Gillie had been released.
The side door opened quietly, and Gillie entered. Jo rubbed her puffy, reddened eyes. It had been a long night.
“You are ready?”
“Yes, Miss Jo. Heyward has packed all we can bring.”
A hush ensued. Jo moved over, and Gillie sat next to her. Gillie reached across and took Jo’s hand.
“Thank you,” she choked on the words as silent tears streamed down her face.
Jo hugged her tightly. “There is so much I want to say and no time to say all that I feel. I’m so sorry. You wanted to start a new life here, and now you have to leave. It’s all my fault. Harry Lee…”
“He is the evil one, Miss Jo. Not you. You saved me again.”
“Yes, but…Heyward…”
“Heyward is scared and angry. It should not be like this. We are free, and yet we have to run. How can a free person fear as we do?”
“I’m sorry…so, so sorry,” Jo uttered between her breaths. Her composure lost. “I want you to go. Truly, I do, but I’m going to miss you. It already pains me. Before when you left Charleston, I knew I would see you again…now I am so afraid I will never see you again. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”
“You are the strongest person that I know. I, too, am lost for words,” Gillie leaned back and touched Jo’s cheek. Through her tears, she smiled, “But we do not need to say words, because we feel it in our hearts.”
Jo nodded. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Heyward walking in the room. He motioned for Gillie. It was time.
Gillie didn’t look back but fell into her husband’s strong arms. He looked at Jo and said simply, “Thank ya, Miss Jo. Thank ya for my Gillie.”
Holding her hand over her mouth as if it could keep the flood of tears welling within her, Jo watched the two depart. Suddenly, she wasn’t alone. Easing in beside her, Cullen wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She leaned her head down against him and wept.
* * * *
In a patch of shadow, the burly man watched patrons exit the tavern. Most swaggered down the street, latching onto their companions in drunken laughter. He gave no notice to most of them as he emerged silently from behind the pillar, turning up the collar of his wool coat to help hide his face. He walked at a slow pace, unhurried.
His eyes fixated on the man in front of him, the tall, lean one with the wide brim slouch hat, who ducked into the dark alleyway. He followed and watched the man slip into the backdoor of the broken-down boarding house.
He had obtained a reluctant forced piece of information that led him here tonight. It was a welcome relief; especially since he hoped to eliminate the threat against Josephine without her even knowing she had been endangered.
He paused long enough to take his gloves off and pull his derringer out of his belt. At the door, he listened for a moment and glanced back over his shoulder. Nothing. He turned the handle and entered.
At the bottom of the stairs, he halted. His instincts sensed a presence. It was too late. He felt a sharp edge slice across his neck. He reached up to his neck, only to feel warm red liquid ooze out in-between his fingers. He felt nothing else.
Harry Lee took out a thin silver flask from his inner pocket and gulped down the brandy. Wiping the knife against his pants leg, he replaced it back into its sheath, then stepped over the lifeless body.
That took care of one problem. Kathleen’s plan had worked. Couldn’t accomplish their objective with Finn in the way. He was getting too close.
“Ready?”
Harry Lee looked up at his brother. “Yep.”
With a bag over his shoulder, Buck tramped down the rickety stairs. “Got everything.”
“Good. Let’s get out of here. We have a busy day tomorrow.”
Harry Lee took one last look at the dead man with satisfaction. He was going to make Brantley Wright rue the day the man stole his heritage and ran him out of the state.
Everything was falling into place despite Gillie slipping through his fingers…that would be remedied soon enough. Kathleen Halcoyne had manipulated that fool Andrew into believing he was doing the best for his family.
By tomorrow night, he would have Josephine. With that knowledge, he smiled. He was tired of running. He was ready to go back home.
Chapter Eight
The late January morn found Philadelphia a cold and barren city. Jo had wakened to a dark threatening sky and a whistling north wind. When the staff girl came to build the fire in the hearth, she mentioned a winter storm lay on the horizon. By nightfall, it was expected the streets would soon be filled with a mantle of white.
It mattered little to Jo if it stormed outside. No, her only concern was that she fulfill her promise to Papa. This was her wedding day. Before breakfast was served, she had received a telegram from her papa wishing her well. It served as a reminder of what she was doing; it gave her fortitude.
Furthermore, Andrew would not be disappearing. There was nowhere for him to hide any longer. For better or worse, they were about to be bound together as husband and wife, if not for the love they shared between each other, for the love they had for their families.
The suite had been prepared. The ceremony would be a small affair with only Mother Montgomery, the girls, and Finn in attendance.
Finn had offered to give her away in place of her father. Jo hadn’t a doubt Papa had requested it from his friend. The thought touched her. She looked up at the clock on the mantle. Strange. With only a few hours before the event, she thought she would have heard from Finn by this time. She shook away her uneasiness. She was letting her nerves get to her.
She stood in her lace pantalets and linen corset, which covered over her three billowing lace petticoats. Her wedding gown lay on the bed. Exquisitely beautiful. So soft to the touch. The bodice was of sheer ivory striped silk with pink taffeta, beaded in pearls. The sheer ivory striped skirt lay over a triple-layered skirt worn over crinoline, elaborately trimmed with delicate lace. Miss Haney called it a crinoline silhouette.
Rosa had diligently worked on a fashion for her hair, cascading it down her shoulders. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Jo had to agree it was most flattering. Papa surprised her with another gift, a stunning set of culture pearls: the single droplet earrings set off by four strings of pearls around her ivory neck.
A slight knock on her door deflected her attention. Smiling sweetly, Mother Montgomery eased in the room bearing a tray of tea, ham, and hot biscuits.
“Rosa said that you ate no breakfast. You will need your strength, my dear. I know you want to enjoy this moment,” she glanced over at the gown and set the tray down on the table by the settee. “Come and sit. There is time.”
Jo obediently seated herself in a high back chair across from Mother Montgomery and accepted the porcelain cup filled with hot tea. She stirred in a teaspoon of sugar and took a sip. The warm liquid felt good going down, relaxing. She hadn’t realized how tense she had become.
“You are going to make the most lovely bride, my dear. Andrew is lucky to have found you, as am I to have gained you for a daughter-in-law.”
Mother Montgomery’s sudden expression choked Jo’s already frail emotions. She fought to maintain composure.
“I know you young have your ideas of what life will be. You, though, have experienced the brutal truth of the world. Most of us don’t realize it until much later in life. Know that despite all you have gone through, have faith it will lead you to where you need to be. You are exactly what Magnolia Bluff needs for its mistress. Don’t mistake Andrew’s reluctance for a character flaw. He is a good soul and a good man. You will have a happy life together and be blessed with many children. Believe in it and hold to that belief.”
"Do you...hold on to that belief?"
"Yes," she said simply. "Sometimes it was the only thing I had to hold to..."
Mother Montgomery stared blankly out into an empty space and seemed lost in another time and place.
Jo studied the woman. She was the epitome of a Southern wife, compassionate and kind, supportive…setting an example for her daughters to follow, including Jo.
“Now,” Mother Montgomery leaned forward, her blue eyes softened. “The girls have been so appreciated of your generosity.”
“It gives me pleasure.”
“I know.” She reached over and patted Jo’s hand. “You have been a dear. But today, we have a surprise for you. The ceremony is going to
be moved to the hall downstairs, followed by a reception. Your Mr. Finn thought it a splendid idea when the girls came to him with the idea. Elizabeth helped to invite all of Andrew’s friends he has made in Philadelphia and, of course, the Smythes.” As if remembering that Cullen was part of the family, Mother Montgomery quickly added. “There will be no distractions. You deserve a day to remember.”
"Truly, I am touched,” Jo said. A sudden warmth enveloped her. Papa would be so pleased. “It worries me, though, that I haven’t heard from Mr. Finn this morning. Have you seen him today?”
Mother Montgomery shook her head. “I will send Rosa downstairs and ask. I would not worry. I’m certain he is overseeing last minute details. It will be a wonderful day.”
Jo smiled. The day had certainly brightened.
* * * *
The darkened sky had made the day seem as night. A storm lay on the horizon much like the storm that raged in his heart. He sat across from Hugh in a game of chess, but his mind was not into it. He had already lost three games. Good Gawd! He had lost her, truly lost her. He had hung onto a semblance of hope, but it was over.
He pulled his pocket watch out. The ceremony was in less than two hours.
“Checkmate,” Hugh said, leaning back in his chair. “I think we have time for another game before we need to get ready for tonight.”
“I know I agreed to go out, but I don’t think…”
“Oh, no, my friend. You are not backing out on me this evening. Diane is expecting us both. I refused to let you abandon me in my time of need. If I go alone, I’m certain I will hear a lecture on my deficiencies about not calling on our mother. Since Gavin has departed, I do not even have him to serve as a go between my sister and myself. Besides I know, my nieces will be terribly disappointed if you do not make an appearance.”
