“We’ll look forward to hearing your story.”
Felicia sensed that Miss Peabody didn’t believe Ashley. She watched as Ashley lowered her hand.
On the way home from school, the bus began to make grinding sounds. The driver pulled over to the side of the road and turned to the remaining riders.
“I don’t like the sound of that—better not go any farther. I’ve got my cell phone if you want to call your parents to come and pick you up.”
Some students went forward to call home, but the four girls decided to walk the rest of the way.
Felicia turned up her jacket collar to protect her neck and jammed her hands into her pockets. “Wow! It’s cold!”
“We sometimes get these real cold spells even though it’s not winter yet,” said Renate.
“Not like the big city, eh?” added Sophie.
They began jogging to keep warm. Sophie’s house was the closest. She invited her friends to come in, but they decided to keep going. Renate’s house was next. After Dodie and Felicia said good-bye to her, they put their heads down and walked quickly. The wind blew icy sleet against their faces.
“Maybe we should have stopped at Renate’s and phoned home.”
“Just a few more minutes.”
Another gust of wind stopped them in their tracks, almost blowing their breath away.
“I’m freezing!”
“Let’s go stand over there for a minute, beside those trees and out of the wind.”
The two girls ran to the grove of trees. The large evergreens swayed and creaked, but they provided some protection from the early blast of winter.
“We’ll stay here for a couple of minutes.” Dodie jumped up and down on the spot. “This helps to keep the circulation going. Wiggle your toes. That helps.”
“Look! We can see our breath!” They puffed and laughed at the clouds of moisture coming out of their mouths. “Your cheeks are all red,” said Felicia.
“So’s your nose!”
They stood shivering together, preparing to go out again into the storm.
“Did you hear that?”
“What?”
“Listen!”
It was barely audible, the softest cry.
“Yeah! Where’s it coming from?” They looked around them, and then Felicia pointed to a large tree. There was an opening at the base, and something was huddled inside it. They knelt down to get a better view. Felicia hesitated, but then reached in and extracted a tiny sodden bundle.
“Oh my gosh! It’s a baby kitten!”
“Hiding in there, trying to keep warm.”
“The poor thing!”
“I wonder where its mother is.”
“I don’t think it has a mother right now.”
“What’ll we do? Can you take it home, Dodie?”
“No, I can’t. My brother has asthma—and a jillion allergies. Better put it back.”
Felicia started to return the animal to its hiding place. It felt like a bundle of twigs in her hands. “I can feel its ribs.”
“It’s probably starving.”
“Maybe we can take it to the Humane Society.”
“You’ll have to take it home first. Can you do that?”
“My mom will freak.”
“Does she hate cats?”
“No.”
“Take it home then, and give it something to eat. A vet should see it. You can call the animal protection people tomorrow.”
Felicia hesitated, then placed the kitten inside her jacket. It didn’t scratch, just settled in. The girls walked out from of the shelter of the trees and put their heads down, against the wind. As she struggled home, Felicia felt the warmth of the kitten, damp against her chest, and wondered if a cat was able to understand the concept of gratitude.
CHAPTER 19
Flower
GENTLE HANDS palpated Gabriel’s chest and neck. “Poor wee babe, too young to be swimming in a cold river.” The doctor laid his ear against the rapidly moving chest and listened. “What care has he been given?”
Sarah Pemberton described the poultice. Dr. Simon placed two fingers on Gabriel’s neck. “Is he drinking?”
“His sister has been giving him water.”
Doctor Simon looked at Flower, noticing her for the first time.
“You’ve been giving water to your brother?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And how did you do that?”
“Mrs. Pemberton showed me how to drop water from a spoon into Gabriel’s mouth, just the tiniest bit.”
“Did he swallow or choke?”
“Most spilled from his mouth, no choking.”
“You did well, a good help to your sick brother. Now, who else ails in this household?” Noah Pemberton led Dr. Simon up the stairs.
After Samuel had been examined, the two men returned to the kitchen, their faces grim. They sat at the table with Eldon as Mrs. Pemberton and the doctor’s wife served tea and biscuits. Flower and her mother stayed by the warmth of the hearth. Cleo held her baby close as Flower aimed at his mouth with a spoon, tipping in drops of water.
“Has this other person been badly treated?” asked Mrs. Simon, as she and her hostess settled in chairs.
“His right ear was severed from his head, and the wound is now festering.”
Mrs. Simon brought her hand to her mouth. She turned to Sarah Pemberton. The women shook their heads and looked down into their teacups.
“The institution of slavery is an abomination,” Dr. Simon said. “Men forget how to be human.” He turned to Eldon. “Are you in good health, at least?”
“Yes, I’m strong, and my tiredness is lifting.”
Mrs. Pemberton passed the plate of biscuits to Eldon. “Take. Eat. I know you’re hungry.” She stood up from the table and carried the biscuits to Cleo and Flower.
“We must make plans,” said Noah.
“Samuel should stay with us,” said Dr. Simon. I’ll be able to look after him until his wound has started to heal and he’s well enough to travel.” He looked toward his wife, who nodded in agreement.
“We have, at the most, two days’ grace. Then the jackals will be howling.”
“When the babe can nurse again, he will be healthy enough to move.”
“The family would be well suited at the Jensons’. Jeremiah Jenson is unwell. Eldon would be most helpful there.”
“What is your plan?” Dr. Simon asked Eldon.
“I led my family through the hills and across the river. Now we must make our way to a place called Ripley.”
Noah said, “Tell us about this pastor who visited you, the man who wrote the letter to introduce you.”
“He started coming to see us on Sunday afternoons,” Eldon began. “We sang hymns. He told stories from the Bible, stories about brave people: Daniel in the lion’s den, David and Goliath, Jonah in the whale.”
“Was your master happy with that?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure. The Reverend stopped coming for a bit, and then one Sunday he showed up again. He talked about heaven. Someone told him we didn’t know about heaven but we sure knew about hell.”
Everyone’s eyes fell on Eldon’s clasped hands. He continued, “One afternoon he spoke to three of us after the service. He told us about a real promised land, a place where we could be free. He told us a bit about how to get there, said we would have a friend in Ripley who would tell us how to get to Canada.”
Dr. Simon turned to Noah Pemberton. “He’ll need time to memorize more information.”
Flower listened to the hum of talk on the other side of the room. H
er mother was asleep, her head slanted toward her shoulder. Flower concentrated on the drops of water pooling inside Gabriel’s open mouth. She set the spoon down and rubbed his downy cheek with her knuckle. He frowned and swallowed.
“Gabriel?”
CHAPTER 20
Felicia
FELICIA BURST through the front door, stood in the hallway, and started to unwind her scarf from around her neck. Delia jumped up from her chair in the living room.
“Look at you! Take off those wet clothes before you catch your death. I’ll run a warm bath.” She used the tail end of the scarf to pat Felicia’s face dry and started to unbutton Felicia’s jacket as she spoke. A wet, skeletal kitten face peeked out at her. Delia drew back in alarm. “What on earth…?”
“Mom, I found this poor baby cat…”
“Oh no!”
“Stranded in the storm…”
“We can’t keep it!”
“It doesn’t have a mom…”
“No way.”
“Look! It’s starving.”
Florence stood in the kitchen doorway. “Felicia, you’re home—thank heavens! What’s all the fuss about?”
“She’s brought in some filthy little animal,” said Delia.
Florence walked into the hall. “Let’s see.”
“It’s just a baby, Nana.”
“Covered in germs,” said Delia. “Probably has rabies.”
Felicia held the kitten in her hands so that her grandmother could see it. It blinked in the sudden light. It tried to meow but had no voice. “Dodie said I should give it some food and take it to the vet.”
Delia looked at it and shook her head. “And who’s going to pay for that?”
“Does that cost a lot?” asked Felicia. She hoped it didn’t.
“We’ll find something for it.” Florence started back to the kitchen.
“First a horse and now a cat,” Delia said. “What else will you come up with? An elephant?”
Felicia kicked off her wet shoes and slithered out of her jacket as she held onto the damp bundle of kitten. Her mother stripped off wet socks as Felicia stood on one foot and then the other. “You need a bath. Your skin is icy cold.”
“I’ll be up in a minute.” Felicia headed into the kitchen. “Should we warm the milk, Nana?”
“That’s just what I’m doing. I’m not sure cow’s milk is the best thing for a kitten, but it’s all I can think of at the moment. Put the kitten in that cardboard box and wrap a towel around it. It’ll be just fine while you have your bath.”
Felicia raced up the stairs, stripped off her wet clothes, and stepped into the tub. Delia had added bath salts. Felicia meant to jump in and jump out, but once she settled in the warm, scented water, the sheer delight of it, after her frigid journey, kept her there. She leaned back and let the water soothe and warm her.
When Felicia returned to the kitchen, Florence was washing a turkey baster.
“What’s that for?” asked Felicia.
“It might be useful for giving the milk. We’ll try it. Wrap that kitten in the towel. It’s still shivering.”
Delia sat at the table sipping a mug of tea. “I can’t believe we’re doing all this for a stray animal that’s probably carrying a horrible disease.”
“Did you ever have a pet, Mom?”
“No, never. This is a new experience.” Delia looked at her mother.
“I used to feed the odd stray,” said Florence, “but I never let anything in the house.” She approached her granddaughter, now holding the toweled kitten in her lap. “See if it will take some milk from this.” Florence extended the plastic baster full of milk. The kitten sniffed it, then opened its mouth and began to drink.
“It’s sucking on it, like a baby!”
“What are we going to do when the other end works?” asked Delia.
“We’ll tear up some newspaper and put it in the box, see if it uses that.”
“It has to stay in the kitchen,” said Delia.
Felicia was entranced with the feeding. “This really works, Nana. I knew it was starving.” She stroked the tiny, bony head with a finger. “Feeling better now, baby?”
Later, the family sat over supper. “Do you have any homework?” asked Delia.
“There’s a special project I have to do for school. Maybe you both can help me. There’s going to be a big celebration with a play and everything, ’cause the school is one hundred and fifty years old this year.”
“Really?”
“And Miss Peabody has asked everybody in our class to find out about their families, from way back, and then write it up and present it to the class.”
Delia and Florence exchanged a glance. “Mmm hmm.”
“So tell me all about my family. I hope there’s somebody interesting. Matt thinks his uncle might have been a vampire.”
Florence said, “I’m pretty sure we didn’t have any vampires. My great-grandfather was a cabinet maker.”
“A what maker?”
“A cabinet maker—sort of like a fancy carpenter. He made fine furniture.”
“Okay. I guess I should write that down. Hold on.” Felicia returned to the table with pen and pad. “Who else?”
“My father worked on the railroad as a porter,” Florence said.
“Tell me again about my dad. I love hearing about him. He worked in a bank, right?”
“Yes. He was very good with numbers,” Delia said. “Had a mind like a steel trap when it came to figuring things out.”
“And he liked music, too.”
“Yes, he strummed a guitar from time to time.”
“And?”
“And he loved to read books. He read to you all the time when you were little.”
“He was so young when he died.”
“Yes, only forty-two. The leukemia got him.” Florence reached over and squeezed Delia’s hand.
“Are you going to write about me, too?” Delia asked.
“I’ll say you’re a career woman, Mom.”
Delia’s sad expression dissolved as she threw her head back and laughed. “That’s a good one! I’m a secretary at a car dealership.”
“An administrative assistant, remember? Any other interesting women?”
“Let me think,” said Florence. “Of course, there’s your great-aunt Agnes. She painted beautifully, just like you do. I have one of her paintings in my bedroom.”
“The picture of the bowl of fruit on a table?”
“That’s the one.”
“Okay, Aunt Agnes the artist. Maybe I can take that painting to school and show everyone.”
“I’m not sure about that. I’ll think about it. Oh, and there’s a family Bible with all kinds of names listed at the front. It belonged to my mother.”
“What did your mother do?”
“Raised seven children, that’s what she did.”
Felicia imagined having six siblings. She had dim memories of her grandmother’s large family, their past get-togethers, tables laden with food and drink, the din of many conversations punctuated by laughter, singing, music. “Didn’t someone play the piano?”
“My sisters, Evelyn and Julia. They were very talented. I think Julia even composed some music. There should be a song sheet somewhere; it used to be kept in the piano bench.”
Felicia continued to make notes. “Anybody related to the royal family?” she asked, pen poised above her list.
“Now, there’s a silly question!”
“One of the girls in my class said she thought someone from her family was related to some royalty.”
“Oh?”
“Do you think she might be lying?”
“Maybe.”
“Why would she lie about her family?”
“Maybe she’s stretching th
e truth, or it’s just wishful thinking.”
“Was there anyone really special in our family?”
“Everyone was special.”
“You know what I mean—really good or really bad.”
“We were all pretty good,” said Florence, “my family.”
“That’s the truth,” agreed Delia.
“I wonder if someone from way back in our family liked to ride horses, like I do.”
“Perhaps, but I think their horses were used for work back then, not pleasure.”
Felicia closed her eyes and imagined riding long ago. Her billowy skirt would make it hard to sit up on the saddle. Maybe she’d drive a carriage. She’d sit up on a special seat, long reins in hand. The horse would respond to her gentle tug, and they would set off on a pleasant journey, trotting along a sun-dappled lane.
“How about way back in the olden days?” Felicia’s pen hovered over the pad.
“Some of that information just disappeared over the years,” said Florence, “but we do have some things in that old trunk I have. I know my grandmother’s grandparents came up from Virginia before the Civil War.”
“How did they get here? Maybe they rode horses.”
“I doubt it. They would have been on the run, and it’s unlikely they could afford a horse, unless someone gave them one.”
“What were they on the run from?”
“From slavery, sweetie.”
“How would they know where to run to?”
“They probably received some help. There was a system of helpers called the ‘Underground Railroad.’”
“They took a train?”
“The Underground Railroad was a kind of secret network of people helping other people escape slavery and come north to Canada, where they could be free,” Florence explained.
“I hope someone gave them a horse so they didn’t have to walk. It must have been hard,” said Felicia. “Just imagine.”
“Yes,” said Delia, “just imagine.”
CHAPTER 21
Flower
FLOWER STOOD with her parents as they said good-bye to the Pembertons. Gabriel peeked over his mother’s shoulder at everyone. A rectangular wooden wagon with one harnessed horse waited in the drive. Cleo said to their protectors, “Thank you for all your kindness.”
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