A Free Heart

by Amelia C. Adams

  “Caroline? Of course. She and I were good friends back in New York.” Miss Markham took the offered menu and glanced over it. “Nothing too fancy here, I see.”

  “There isn’t much call for fancy food in Kansas, but Miss Hampton sees to it that everything’s delicious.” Elizabeth bit her tongue. This woman was Adam’s guest, and she would speak civilly. She might incur permanent tooth marks in her tongue, but she would not embarrass him.

  “Why don’t you tell Caroline I’m here and ask her to prepare my meal? She knows what I like.” Miss Markham set her small bag on the table and looked up at Elizabeth expectantly. “I am quite hungry, if you’d be a dear.”

  Elizabeth knew when she was being dismissed. She nodded and moved off to the kitchen, where she took a deep breath before speaking to Caroline. “Two bowls of stew for table four, and Miss Olivia Markham would like you to decide what she will have to eat.”

  Caroline looked up from the stove sharply. “Olivia Markham is here? In our hotel?”

  “Indeed she is.” And Elizabeth couldn’t wait to see the other side of her when she left.

  Caroline looked at Elizabeth with shrewd eyes. “Already trying to get her hooks into you, I see.”

  Elizabeth bit back a laugh. “It would appear that way. Are the two of you really great friends, as she says?”

  “Hardly. I tolerated her presence as I had to, but I never considered her anything but a nuisance.” Caroline dished up the bowls of stew as she spoke, and placed them on a tray with a basket of bread and a small plate holding a pat of butter. Elizabeth took the tray out to the dining room and set the bowls in front of the people seated at table four, then returned to the kitchen.

  Caroline had placed two pieces of fried chicken on a plate, along with a scoop of spinach greens and another of corn. Biscuits were already waiting to go out.

  “Are spinach greens fancy enough for Miss Markham’s tastes?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Sometimes we all need to eat our vegetables, whether we want to or not,” Caroline replied, a hidden note of amusement in her voice.

  Elizabeth pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t laugh. When she first met Adam’s aunt, she’d been worried about ever getting along with the austere woman. But the more she came to know her, the more she appreciated her wry wit and wisdom. She was coming to see why Adam adored her and depended on her so much.

  “Here you are,” Elizabeth said warmly, setting the food in front of Miss Markham. “When you’re done here, we have a wonderful apple pie for dessert.”

  Miss Markham picked up her fork and poked at the spinach. “What is this?”

  “It’s spinach. I’ve heard it has amazing restorative powers, and I’m sure you’re very fatigued after your journey.”

  Miss Markham did not look convinced. “Does Caroline know I’m here? Did she prepare this for me?”

  “She chose out every item. I believe she’s just as concerned about your health as I am, Miss Markham.” Elizabeth smiled sweetly. She would not give this woman the satisfaction of any sort of reaction.

  “Very well. I’d enjoy speaking to Caroline when she gets a minute.”

  “I’ll make sure she knows.” Elizabeth walked off to see to the needs of another table, smiling at the memory of Miss Markham poking at her food, almost as if she was expecting it to still be alive.

  She had no idea what to make of this woman’s sudden appearance. She knew that Adam had sent for more linens—after all, each of the employees of the hotel had reminded him of the shortage. She had not, however, expected them to be personally delivered by someone who seemed to be very interested in his success or failure. She took an order for table six and glanced over her shoulder at Miss Markham, who was still poking at her meal. Elizabeth supposed that she was used to much finer food, but this was Kansas, not New York. It wasn’t long ago that Kansas was on the edge of the explored West. If Miss Markham expected New York treatment out here in a developing area of the land, she would certainly have a very rude awakening.

  “Miss Markham would like a chance to visit with you,” Elizabeth reported to Caroline when she went into the kitchen next.

  “I suppose I can’t avoid it. Adam asked me to arrange a room for her—there will be no shipping her off on this evening’s train. More’s the pity. I wouldn’t mind seeing the back of her.” Elizabeth smirked as Caroline said what she herself had been thinking. She’d wondered if she should feel guilty for her thoughts, but Caroline had just provided all the justification she needed.

  Caroline handed Elizabeth a tray full of slices of pie. “Let’s get these people fed and back on the train, and then we’ll worry about the ones who have stayed behind.”

  Elizabeth glanced around the kitchen as she left the room. Caroline was in there alone—Harriet, Abigail, and Jeanette were all out in the dining room taking care of their customers. Not only had several people come over from the train, but so had a few townsfolk, and the dining room was nearly full. This is what Adam wanted—a place for people from every walk of life to gather and break bread and share new ideas. But she could see that Caroline needed more help in the kitchen if that were to happen. Agatha, Elizabeth’s mother, would be a valuable resource, but she was watching Rose, and until Elizabeth was able to tend her daughter herself and was no longer needed in the dining room, Agatha’s wisdom would do no one any good.

  Elizabeth worked her way around the dining room, placing dessert in front of each customer. The warm scent of cinnamon drifted up to her nose, and she smiled. Some aromas spoke of home, comfort, and hospitality, and she hoped this pie would leave a pleasant memory in the minds of these travelers. It would be a blessing for them, and good for business as well.

  Without turning, she recognized Adam’s voice as he stood in the doorway, shaking hands and wishing the departing customers a good journey. Oh, how she loved that man. He had taken her from a life of doubt and insecurity and given her hope she’d hardly dared to dream would ever be hers. Saturday could not come soon enough.

  “Here’s the pie I promised you, Miss Markham.” As she slid the plate onto the table, Elizabeth noticed that the other woman’s eyes were also on Adam. She had a curious expression on her face, almost one of ownership. Elizabeth spoke a little louder. “I hope everything was to your liking.”

  Miss Markham blinked and turned to face her. “It was very different, to be sure. The pie smells delicious. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” As Elizabeth moved off to begin cleaning up the dining room, she pressed her lips together. Miss Markham would soon find Topeka a very hard place to be if she continued on this path. Elizabeth would see to that personally.

  Chapter Three

  Harriet climbed the stairs to her room, taking off her apron as she went. All too soon, it would be time to start the laundry, the only chore she truly detested here at the hotel. Miss Hampton was teaching her how to make bread, and that was enjoyable—she loved seeing the rising loaves and knowing she had created something that would fill up a hungry stomach. But laundry was such a never-ending task, one that wasn’t even noticed or appreciated unless it was left undone. She hadn’t been trusted with the ironing yet—the Peterson sisters took care of that. Apparently it was a special skill, and Miss Hampton was afraid she didn’t possess it.

  Elizabeth had promised to meet her up here as soon as the dining room was stripped. Abigail and Jeanette were helping Miss Hampton with the dishes, so now was a good time for Harriet to unburden herself to her friend. While she liked the Peterson sisters, she didn’t know them as well or have the same kind of connection with them as she did with Elizabeth.

  Moments later, light footsteps echoed up the stairs, and Elizabeth entered the attic room. “I thought I’d never escape Miss Markham’s clutches,” she said, dropping onto one of the beds. “That woman has such an air of superiority about her, it’s almost unbelievable. I was tempted more than once to remind her that I, too, am from New York, but I didn’t want to play her little game. S
he’s tucked away in a guest room right now, which is obviously below her standards, and here I am.” Elizabeth sighed and then focused her attention on Harriet. “I haven’t forgotten about you, my friend. Please, finish telling me your story.”

  Harriet smiled. “I’m not sure that my story could possibly compete with the last hour you’ve had.”

  “It’s not a competition. Come on now—we have to start the laundry soon. Tom’s already got the water boiling outside.” Elizabeth sat forward, her expression open and eager.

  Harriet tried to ignore the flash of disapproval that zipped through her at the mention of Tom White’s name. She was simply going to have to get used to the idea that he existed. “Let’s see—I had just told you about the laundry incident.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “That’s right. I feel sorry for those poor geese.”

  “You shouldn’t. Geese are some of the meanest creatures God ever invented, especially the ganders.” Harriet got a little more comfortable on the bed, pulling her pillow onto her lap. “Well, let’s see. Things went on much the same as ever until the war ended. I was eight years old, and suddenly, my entire life changed. The slaves were leaving the plantation in droves, these people I’d grown up with, depended on. Jane, Sammy’s mother, had been one of my dearest friends, and Sammy—well, I can’t even describe how I felt about him. He was my other half. We did everything together. I even insisted that he be allowed to sit in on my lessons. My tutor wasn’t allowed to teach him anything directly, but he was there, in the room, and so he learned everything I did. Reading, arithmetic, history—everything a slave wasn’t supposed to know. ”

  Elizabeth inhaled sharply. “That’s quite the brave thing you did.”

  Harriet shrugged. “I had no idea what the slaves were or were not allowed to do—he was my friend, and I wanted him to have everything I had. But then, all of a sudden, everyone was leaving. My father had given them the choice of staying to work for wages or leaving as freedmen, and most of our slaves chose to leave. Jane was one of them, and she took Sammy with her.”

  She blinked as the pain of that day rose up in her chest. The ache of it was raw and crippling, and she had to pause a moment before she could speak again. “I sat in my bedroom window and watched as Jane pulled their little wagon down the road that led out of the plantation. Sammy turned around and waved at me before they were out of sight, and I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. My oldest brother, Sterling, came in and tried to explain it to me, but I was eight. Nothing he said made any sense to me. All I knew was that my soulmate was leaving.”

  Elizabeth handed Harriet a handkerchief. She took it and wiped her eyes, then laughed. “How many of these am I going to take from you today?”

  “We’ll just throw them in with the laundry. No harm done.” Elizabeth smiled gently. “And then what happened?”

  “Time passed. My father hired workers to come in and help run the plantation, and my brothers pitched in too—they were both married, and their wives helped my mother with the household duties. We weren’t as wealthy as we once were. Andrew, my other brother, explained to me that now that we had to pay our workers, we had less for ourselves. That was a shock to me. It had never occurred to me that our slaves weren’t paid. It sounds silly, I know, but I was so young, things like that had just never crossed my mind. The word ‘slave’ just meant the people who lived on the plantation. It wasn’t until years later when I was reading in the Old Testament about the Israelite slaves that I finally understood.”

  Harriet wiped her eyes again. “Let me skip forward to the happy part of my story. Last summer, I was out shopping. It was a gorgeous day and I was going along from store to store, looking in windows, probably wasting time more than actually shopping. I heard my name and looked up, and there was Sammy.”

  Elizabeth clasped her hands together under her chin, her eyes shining. “No!”

  “Yes. There he was, wearing a gray suit, as tall and handsome and distinguished as any of the other men on the street. Seeing him again was like every one of my dreams and daydreams had come true at once. He promised to meet me down by a stream that ran through the back of our property. I practically ran down there when the time came. We talked and talked for hours. He and his mother had come to Kansas after they left our place. She’d found a job working as a maid for a very wealthy family, and Sam was able to start working not too long after that. When I saw him, he was on a break from his studies—he was a student at Wilberforce University in Ohio.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful,” Elizabeth said. “So much changed after the war.”

  “So many things changed for the better.” Harriet twisted her borrowed handkerchief between her fingers. “He said he came down to Atlanta to find me, and that running into me on the street was a stroke of destiny. He would have come out to the plantation, but there I was, right in front of him. He told me that when he left Georgia, he knew he’d be coming back for me someday. Even at eight years old, he wanted me to be his wife.”

  Elizabeth reached out and grasped Harriet’s hand. “And then what happened?”

  Harriet began to tremble. The memories were cruel sometimes. “He wanted to bring me back to Kansas with him. The laws in this state are much more tolerant and accepting than in most other states, and he wanted to see if it was possible for us to have a life together. I can’t even tell you how I felt when he said this. Seeing him again, all grown up and dashing and heroic, coming to find me, telling me he loved me . . . I would have gone anywhere with him at that moment. I was ready to go as I was, with just my hat and parasol. But he insisted that I actually go pack and have a few days to say my good-byes.” She chuckled from a painful spot in her chest. “The plan was that I would go with him to Salina, where I would live with his mother. Then he’d return to Ohio and finish his schooling. After that, we’d be married. I agreed—it sounded wonderful. And then he kissed me.”

  Harriet closed her eyes, remembering that moment, the tingles down her arms. “I’d never been kissed before. I’d never even had a beau. His touch on my cheek—it was so tender and soft, I thought I’d die from happiness. And then he kissed me, and I knew I was his. I just knew it. Nothing else mattered. Not our skin color, not our stations in life—nothing. He was my best friend, and now he’d claimed my heart.” She opened her eyes again and saw Elizabeth wipe a tear from her jawline. “I’m sorry. I’m getting a little carried away.”

  “Oh, gracious, no. I’m getting married on Saturday—I completely understand being swept up in romance.” Elizabeth grinned, a sad, understanding grin. “Go on. What happened next?”

  “Can’t we just stop here? That’s the beautiful part.”

  “But there’s more,” Elizabeth said, her voice full of compassion. “Why aren’t you living with Jane right now?”

  Harriet took a deep breath. She didn’t want to say the words aloud, but she’d already come this far. “A friend of my father’s heard about our plans. As it turns out, his son had decided that he was going to marry me, and he’d seen me talking to Sam on the street. The next thing I knew . . .” Harriet stopped. She couldn’t say it. She just couldn’t.

  Elizabeth stood from the bed where she sat and knelt at Harriet’s feet, looking into her eyes. “What happened?” she whispered.

  “Sam was hanged from the rafters of my father’s barn,” Harriet murmured. “My brother Sterling found him with a note pinned to his chest. It said that this was God’s punishment for being unequally yoked with a black man. It called me out specifically and warned me to marry one of my own kind.”

  “No. Oh, Harriet. No.”

  Harriet nodded, the tears now coming so fast, there was no way to stop them. She saw everything all over again—Sterling coming into the house, holding her back so she wouldn’t go running out to the barn, seeing a white-sheeted form being carried out to a wagon feet first, her father’s grim face. The pain in her chest was unbearable. It seared. It burned. She grasped Elizabeth’s hand and squeezed it too hard as she gasped for
breath. It was too much. Too much.

  Abigail poked her head up the stairs just then. “There you are. We’ve got just enough time to get the laundry on the line before the next train.”

  “Can you start without us, please?” Elizabeth asked over her shoulder. “We’ll be down as soon as we can.”

  “All right.” Abigail paused, seeming to take in the situation. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “She just needs to cry it out,” Elizabeth said.

  Abigail nodded. “We’ll see how much we can get done. Please let me know if I can do anything.”

  Harriet smiled faintly. “Thank you.”

  After Abigail’s footsteps receded, Elizabeth turned back to Harriet. “And then what?”Harriet swallowed hard. “I cried in my room for days. Then I cried in the parlor, on the porch—wherever I happened to be. And then one day, after months of heartache, I decided that I was going to come to Kansas and find Jane. Sam was gone—I couldn’t do anything about that—but I could see his mother and make sure she was all right. I couldn’t move on with my life until I had put a seal on that chapter of it.

  “I sent a letter to the Salina post office. The postmaster replied that he’d see if he could locate her. In the meantime, I got on a train and ended up here. I told the postmaster where I’d be, and his reply is the letter I received this morning. It took him a while to find Jane because she had gotten married and has a new surname, but I now know where she lives.”

  “You’re amazing,” Elizabeth said. “What did your parents say about your coming here?”

  Harriet winced. “They actually don’t know where I am. I just . . . left.”

  Elizabeth gasped. “You ran away?”

  “I did. No, it wasn’t the most responsible thing I could have done, but I knew my father would never allow me to go if I spoke with him about it first. He never understood the close connection I felt to Jane and to Sam. He found it shameful. He had let his slaves go at the end of the war, but only because he had to.”