Indigo (27 page)

Hester smiled in reply.

"You can go home in the morning, but you're going to have to post a bond."

"How much?"

When he quoted the figure, Hester's eyes widened. "So much?"

"I'm afraid so. Otherwise, Shoe will use the escape as an excuse to terrorize families all over the area. All he has to do is accuse. The law says he doesn't need proof."

He was right. Many of the families in the area were fugitives. She didn't want Shoe hammering his fist against their doors in the middle of the night because of her. But the sum of the bond would take all of her funds. She was certain the case would never reach trial unless the Blackburns were recaptured, and if they weren't the bond would be returned. However, what if they were found? The state of Michigan, like many other northern states, had passed personal liberty laws to reinstate some of the rights struck down by the Fugitive Slave Law, but the enforcement of the law and its mandates were as ever changing as the tide. The Cause had seen both victory and stunning defeats in the courts. Who knew what might happen to her as a result of impersonating Fanny Blackburn? She could lose everything, from her funds, to her land, to her own freedom. Hester had weighed the consequences going in and she harbored no regrets. "I will write you a bank draft in the morning."

After supper, she and the sheriff spent a few moments talking and Hester asked about his son, David.

Lawson said sadly, "He's turned into a very angry man. He misses Bethany Ann something fierce. I've had to stop him a couple of times from confronting Lovejoy over sending her to Minnesota."

Hester stared. "Bethany Ann is in Minnesota?"

"Yes. You seem surprised."

"Mr. Lovejoy has been telling folks she ran away."

"No, he sent her to family there to get her away from my son. I—"

The door blew open with such force it slammed into the wall behind it.

Shoe strode in, his face twisted with anger. "We can't find the Blackburn woman, and I just received word that a mob overran the Detroit jail this morning and he's disappeared too."

Hester gave a silent prayer of thanks.

He barked at Hester, "Where are they?!"

"Wherever they are, they are free."

He lunged at Hester only to find himself grabbed by the sheriff, who snarled, "Unless you have further business here I'd advise you and your men to move on."

"She under arrest?"

"Yes."

"Good, because if she wasn't, I know a planter who's looking for a gal that fits her description."

Hester stared back coldly. As the sheriff stated earlier, Shoe didn't need proof to accuse her of being someone's runaway property. If he could find someone to back the claim, her life as a freewoman would be over. The sheriff wasn't cowed. "She's free, Shoe. I knew her daddy. I knew her grandparents. They were all free. You try and bring her to trial or kidnap her and there'll be hell to pay."

Shoe smiled, showing his black teeth, and said, "We'll see, Sheriff. We'll see." He walked out, leaving a decidedly foul stench behind.

While the sheriff hastened Shoe's departure from town, Hester walked over to the small barred window in the wall of her cell and looked out at the trees and land. She hoped the Blackburns would reach Ontario safely. That they had been targeted by Shoe still did not make sense. Fanny and James never bothered anyone. They didn't participate in the Vigilance Committee activities, and very rarely ventured into town. Were it not for their presence at church every Sunday, no one would even know they lived in Whittaker. So how had Shoe known they were fugitives? Did someone tip his hand? She thought it highly unlikely. They had no enemies that she was aware of and she never heard anyone speak ill of either of them. Chills ran down her spine as a thought took hold. Could their betrayal be the work of the traitor who had also betrayed Galen?

Her thoughts were interrupted as the cell door opened and the sheriff stepped in. "Miss Hester, I need a big favor from you."

"If I can help, I will. What is it?"

"If I left you alone here, would you try and escape?"

Hester was certain her confusion was plain to see, but he continued, "I promised my wife I'd attend tonight's recital at her church. My deputy, Patrick, was supposed to take the evening shift so I could go, but he can't. His mother's taken ill and he's had to go home to see about her."

Hester didn't hesitate. "Keep your pledge to your wife. I promise to be here when you return."

And she would be. Lawson was a fair and decent man. On numerous occasions he'd chosen to look the other way where Road business was concerned, and according to her aunt Katherine, he'd hidden a few fugitives himself before taking on the job as sheriff. That Lawson had also been her father's best friend only increased her respect for him as a human being. Hester would keep her word because at some point in the near future he would have to account to his superiors for the escape of Fanny Blackburn, and she didn't want him to be in more hot water by having to explain two escapes. The Road couldn't afford to have him replaced by someone less humane. "Sheriff, I've given you more than enough grief for one day. You go on. I'll be fine here. All I ask is that you lock me in. I don't want Shoe paying me a visit while you're gone." Even though Lawson had asked Shoe to leave town, Hester doubted the southerner would comply with any haste.

Lawson apparently harbored his own misgivings. "Good thought. Hold on."

He left only to return with a rifle and some cartridges. "Here, hang onto this. If Shoe shows his pug ugly face, shoot him with my blessings."

Hester took the rifle and noted that it was loaded. "Let's hope it won't come to that."

"Are you sure you don't need me to stay and watch over you? If you come to harm, I'll never forgive myself."

"I'll be fine. Now go to the recital."

"Be back in under an hour's time."

"Go."

The sheriff had been gone almost a quarter hour. Hester sat upon the cot reading when she heard a key scratching against the door's lock. Her first thought was the sheriff had returned much sooner than planned, but when the fumbling sounds continued, she began to get a bad feeling because she didn't remember Sheriff Lawson having any difficulty opening the lock before. She knew instinctively that the person on the other side was not the sheriff and the hairs stood upon her neck. She forced herself to move slowly as she very calmly placed the rifle against her thigh and covered it with the edge of her flared skirt.

The door opened and Ezra Shoe entered. Behind him were two of his men, whose filthy clothing and feral eyes matched his own. Hester held his rude gaze without reaction.

He smiled, then said softly, "Well, what have we here?"

Hester neither moved nor took her eyes off him or the men still standing at the door. Fear shook her but she refused to let it have its head. If she showed even a hint of submission they'd attack like the pack savages they were.

Shoe came closer, close enough to smell. He leaned down and his smile was lewd. "I saw the sheriff leaving. Me and the boys thought you might be lonely."

One of the men cackled. Shoe looked over at them and grinned. When he turned back to Hester, the bore of the rifle was staring him in the eye. His eyebrows lifted with such shock and surprise, Hester wanted to smile, but she didn't have time to relish his reaction right now. Now she was too intent upon maintaining the upper hand.

"Back away, Mr. Shoe."

He gave her no argument. As he complied she slowly rose from the cot. Her movement gave his men their first look at her behind the gun and one of them uttered a soft curse of alarm.

Hester demanded softly, "Toss the jail key over in the corner, then leave."

They seemed to have been caught unawares, so no one moved. Then she heard one laugh nervously. "Gal, you ain't gonna shoot nobody. Don't you know it's against the law for you to turn a weapon on us?"

Hester shifted her eyes to the man who'd made the remark. He stood in front of the door grinning. She fired the gun into the wood above his head, scaring the bejesus out of them all as they cursed and scrambled out of the way. As the room quieted once more, they stared at her as if she were demented. Hester didn't waver. Her anger kept her strong. How dare they quote the law at her knowing what they'd had in mind when they first entered. She detested violence, but she'd shoot them all without hesitation.

Shoe snarled, "If we were in the South—"

"But we're not in the South," Hester interrupted coldly. "You're in the North where cold weather makes free Blacks insane. Isn't that what you were taught? Shall I demonstrate just how crazy I am?" she tossed out bitterly.

The sarcasm wasn't lost upon them, because Shoe told his men. "Let's go, boys."

But to Hester he promised, "Your day is coming, gal. You just wait."

And he stormed out.

Hester held her stance behind the gun until she heard their steps upon the plank walk outside. Only then did she collapse upon the cot and let her emotions surface. Her hands were shaking so fiercely when she laid the shotgun down beside her she had to hold them still. Her entire body trembled as if she were suffering from extreme cold. She tried not to dwell upon what Shoe and his men would have done had she not had the gun but the terrible scenario made her stomach churn. Men like them did not view her as a thinking, feeling person, but only as a vehicle for their insatiable savagery. They were the men who believed the awful myths about the women of the race, myths that left women like herself vulnerable to attack anytime and anywhere, myths that slanderously labeled Black women as voracious in pursuit of the vices of the flesh and willing to accommodate anyone to satisfy their carnal cravings. Hester heard footsteps nearing the door and she snatched up the rifle once again. The thought that Shoe might be returning put a fresh fear in her heart and tears of anger in her eyes. She held the rifle stock firmly against her shoulder and waited.

But instead of Shoe and his men, Foster entered, followed by Galen and Andre Renaud. Relief flooded over her. She slumped to the cot, set the rifle aside, and wiped her gloved hands over her teary eyes.

Foster rushed over and took her hands. "My God, Hester, someone said they heard gunshots. Are you all right?"

In reality she wanted to be held until the shaking passed, but she stoically replied, "Yes, I'm fine."

"What happened?" Galen asked. The last thing Galen wanted to do was stand there and pretend a neighborly concern. He was dying inside from the need to take her into his arms. He wanted to prove to himself she hadn't been harmed by whatever had frightened her so much she'd taken up a gun in defense of herself.

"It was Shoe," she replied. While they listened she told them the story of the Blackburns, then explained where the sheriff had gone, and of Shoe's foul visit.

When she finished her tale, she found it hard not to be moved by the concern in Galen's eyes.

Galen said, "Andre, go see if you can find the sheriff, I don't want Miss Wyatt to spend the night here. Are we in agreement, Quint?"

"Total agreement," Foster replied. Then he asked Hester, "How could you have placed yourself in such danger by posing as Fanny?"

"I wasn't in any danger, the Blackburns were the ones in real peril. My role was insignificant."

"It won't be insignificant if you are sentenced. Do you know they can confiscate your land and your home?"

"Foster, I knew the consequences, but the Blackburns needed our assistance, and we provided it."

"Hester, I was worried sick when Bea stopped me earlier and told me about the escape. No fugitive is worth you being imprisoned."

Hester couldn't believe her ears. "Foster, do you hear yourself?"

"I do, and I admit it doesn't sound very noble, but it's you I worry over. I don't want you rotting away in some prison."

His sincerity softened Hester's mood. "Foster, I won't place myself in an unnecessary danger ever, but I must do my part to stem slavery."

Hester looked over Foster's head to where Galen stood. He stared back emotionlessly and she suddenly wished they were alone. She turned to Foster and said softly, "I won't give up conducting."

Foster appeared to want to further argue the point but he sighed instead. "I understand. I don't agree, but I understand."

The sheriff's hasty entrance drew everyone's attention.

"Miss Hester, are you all right? What happened?"

"I'm all right, but I owe you an apology for the hole in the door."

He spun to the door, viewed the damage done by the blast, then turned back. "Did Shoe come back here?"

She nodded.

Lawson offered a curse that curled Hester's ears. He immediately offered a contrite apology though. "I'm sorry, but that trash!"

Hester waved him off. "No apology is necessary, Sheriff. Were I a cursing woman, I'd offer a few invectives of my own."

"Did he touch you?"

She shook her head. "No."

Galen commanded everyone's attention by declaring, "Sheriff, under the circumstances, I believe Miss Wyatt should be allowed to return to her home."