Promise Bridge (28 page)

“Where you been, girl?” Livie pounced as I walked into my bedchamber. “Esther Mae come near an hour ago to fetch you fo’ breakfast. I tol’ her, ‘Miz Hannah walked off not a minute ago to get some air.’ But you know Esther Mae; she jes’ propped her hands on her hips and shook her head. She said, ‘You gals better stop actin’ so peculiar or you’ll raise Miz ’Gusta’s ire fo’ sure.’ ”

I settled my hands on Livie’s shoulders to calm her and let her know everything was all right. Like lifting a lid off a boiling pot, she huffed in steamy relief. As the muscles in her tense shoulders unwound, a bright grin took up the slack.

“Marcus came back fo’ me,” she said, opening her heart to revel in our secret. “My head has been spinnin’ since I laid eyes on him. I ain’t got no family left—all is either dead or scattered to the wind. Then the brother I feared lost comes walkin’ back into my arms. Jes’ seein’ his face churns up all the love I buried with the memories of days gone by. They is reborn inside me. Marcus and me loved the same people and cried the same tears. Now we is gonna walk the same walk.”

I clasped Livie’s hands with understanding, but knew I could allow her only a brief period of joy. Time was our enemy, marching by with little regard to Livie’s elation.

“When I came up from the quarters this mornin’ and seen nary a sign of you, I thought fo’ sure somethin’ bad happened.”

“Marcus and I went to the cave to formulate a plan. We must take action quickly.”

“Was the rustled slaves in the shed like Marcus was a-thinkin’?”

“Yes, they are horribly beaten and shackled. Marcus intends to free them tonight. He wants James to bring a hammer, chisel, and shovels from the blacksmith shop and meet him near Castle Rock after nightfall.”

Livie shook her head. “James ain’t here, Hannah. Marse Twitch took him to town this mornin’ to shore up the bridge fo’ crossin’. Marse says he is gonna be ridin’ out the day after tomorr’y on slave business, and wants to use the road headin’ south. The only way to get there is by crossin’ the river. Marse don’t trust no other to do the bridge repair right and proper, so he took James in town till tomorr’y, makin’ fo’ sure his wagon can pass over safely.”

“Oh no,” I said. “Marcus needs those tools tonight. His instincts were right in thinking Twitch would be quick to be rid of the abducted slaves one way or the other. From what you say about Twitch leaving, we will barely get them out in time.” I thought for a moment, then touched her arm gently. “Can you smuggle the tools from the blacksmith shop?”

“I think so,” she pondered. “I been down there enough to see where James keeps most everything. And since I’m a common sight near the forge, nobody will wonder why I’m roundabout.”

“Do you know what a chisel looks like?”

Livie smiled and shook her head teasingly. “Every soul outside the big house knows what a chisel is. I will take the tools to Marcus and tell him about James.”

“Marcus will need help in getting the captives out of there undetected before morning. I will take the tools to him. You are round with child and in no condition to traipse around Twitch’s back lot. It is far too dangerous. I will be able to move quicker and with familiarity.” I paused, not wanting to complete my thought, but knew all must be said. “If anything goes wrong, I will not face the same consequence as you.”

“And Marcus?”

“Marcus is committed to doing everything in his power to aid those wanting a run at freedom. He knows the risk, and will invade the shed with or without my assistance. His chance of success increases with me there helping him.”

Livie nodded. “Let me do my part, then. I’ll run on down to the shop and fetch them tools.”

After Livie was on her way, I washed my hands and changed my dress. Then I made certain to cross paths with Aunt Augusta. When she asked about my whereabouts, I remained matter-of-fact.

“I have been enjoyin’ the pleasant weather. The heat can be stifling in the house, so when the twinge of a headache came on me, I decided that a walk in the fresh air would ease my discomfort.”

“Your activity seems to agree with you. Your spirits and hue are piqued to a level that becomes you.”

“I believe you are right, Aunt Augusta.” I smiled wholeheartedly. “My activity has brought me renewed life.”

As I left Aunt Augusta in the parlor, I could not help being amused at her observations. Unbeknownst to her, what she saw in me was the reflection of my true self, confident in my strength and conviction. How I wished I could remain bathed in this feeling. However, the hours in the day continued draining away, bringing closer the moment when my purpose would be realized, and with it, my heart torn in two.

Chapter 28

H
idden in the evening shadows behind the carriage house, I grew concerned about the delay in Livie’s return and feared our activities had been found out. As I nestled in the cover of darkness, I watched Winston wearily brush down the horses, patting them along the neck and whispering day-ending farewells with instructions to rest up until his return at sunrise. He hoisted his lantern and secured the doors of the stable. The night deepened around me as he headed off to Mud Run, surrounded by a halo of illumination. Anxious solitude tensed my limbs, and all I could do was wait.

The night was cool, silencing the song of the crickets and tree frogs. The only sounds drifted up from the distant quarters and from the rustle of an occasional swirl of wind. Suddenly, a cold hand took hold of my arm. “What you doin’ here?”

Triggered by fright, my arms struck out into the purple shadows at an unseen target. I eased when I recognized Livie’s hushed voice. “Settle yo’self, girl. Willy Jack is on the prowl tonight.” Her face was now inches from mine and angled toward the night, measuring each shift of the breeze. Satisfied we were alone, she continued. “Wasn’t I s’posed to meet you in yo’ bedchamber?”

“I thought it best to slip out while Aunt Augusta was busy in the pantry, checking supplies with Esther Mae. She will retire to her room when she is finished, and will assume I have done the same. I have been waiting here to intercept you on your way to the house.”

Livie knelt on the ground and unfolded a cloth bundle she had tied in her apron. “I had hoped James would ride in late with Marse, so I hid down yonder a bit. If the bridge work got done early, they might have showed up tonight. Guess Willy Jack was thinkin’ the same as me, ’cuz he was draggin’ his feet around there too. He probably knowed he be whupped if he wasn’t waitin’ fo’ Marse when the wagon rolled in. I stayed still and outta sight till Willy Jack moved on, but my skin is prickled knowin’ he is sniffin’ around.”

“Did you have any trouble getting the tools?”

“There were no shovels or hammers to be found,” Livie said, placing several tools in front of me. “James must have them in town. Here are the chisels Marcus wanted. I picked up two fist-sized rocks to use like hammers, and I found a couple o’ broken hoe blades he could use fo’ diggin’.”

“Good idea, Liv.” I gathered the tools and wrapped them in my champagne shawl. With great reticence, I set the bundle aside and faced Livie. “Marcus said you should be prepared to leave at a moment’s notice. If all goes as planned, you will be on your way before daybreak.” I was drawn to embrace her, but she wavered back a step.

“Don’t be sayin’ good-bye yet. That be like namin’ a chile befo’ it’s born. Jes’ might put a wrongful hex on you and Marcus over at the back lot. Besides, I ain’t goin’ nowhere without James.”

Livie’s declaration startled me. A few months ago, I would have selfishly agreed, knowing if she remained with James, it would anchor Livie by my side, perhaps forever. But now the vision and strength I had garnered since Livie came into my life allowed me a better perspective. I recognized what was right and best for my dear friend. Loving her meant letting her go. I vowed to watch her leave with a smile on my face. It would be my lasting gift to her, and perhaps lighten her load ever so slightly.

It was not likely that Twitch would return with James after nightfall. I suspected Twitch was already three shots of rye into a drunken evening at the saloon in town. His desire for one last night of revelry before returning to smuggle away his bounty would work to our advantage. The timing was perfect for freeing his captives. They could start a few hours ahead of him and put as much distance as possible between them and his hounds.

I must convince Livie to be ready to run
.

“Livie,” I said, steadying my hand on her shoulder, “James would want you to take this opportunity. You may never get the chance again, at least not with someone as experienced and close to you as Marcus.”

Livie’s eyes plunged into mine, making it clear she understood the magnitude of her decision. Then with a determined lift of her shoulder, she nudged my hand away to detach from any encouragement or reasoning I offered.

“I will
not
leave him behind. I love that man. James gave me a life outside o’ the big house. Don’t mean no hurt with them words, Hannah, ’cuz you been as good as gold to me. But inside the walls of our cabin, our thinkin’ and feelin’ is all our own. James and me dreamed about the day we would walk free in the land o’ milk and honey, and I ain’t gonna walk there without him. His heart was broke once already when his first wife and chile was sold away from him. Even if James hisself tol’ me to go, I wouldn’t leave him here with nothin’. I want him to hold our chile when it’s born. You would understand if you ever felt love down deep fo’ a man. No sacrifice or risk would be too mighty when you feel love so strong. Now, don’t try to tell me no different, ’cuz I ain’t changin’ my mind.”

I reached out and slid my hands around Livie’s where they were planted stubbornly on her hips. I eased her to me, not only to close the distance, but so she could see I was standing by her decision no matter what road she chose to follow. More than anything, I wanted her to know I understood that feelings for a man could defy logic and reason.

“Livie, do you believe there can be more than one man who can set your insides awhirl like that?” My question was meant to sort out my own confusion, but Livie misunderstood.

“There is no other man for me, so don’t think I can toss him away like bathwater.”

“Not you, Liv,” I continued in a confidential hush. “I was talking about me.”

“What’chu sayin’, girl?” The starless night could not mask Livie’s dumbfounded gaze. “Now, don’t you give up on Mista Colt. He is gonna come back. Besides, there ain’t a man round here better suited for you. You and him think alike, move alike, and even act alike when it comes to doin’ what’s right fo’ folks around you.”

I bit my lip before saying the next words aloud. “I have always carried love and devotion for Colt deep in my heart. But I also find myself warmed by my periodic interludes with Marcus . . . working together, growing in admiration for his cause.”

A distraught gasp escaped her as she shook me by the shoulders. “Is you crazy, girl? You gots’ta put such a notion outta yo’ head. Don’t never say such a thing again. Don’t even think it! They would tie Marcus to a wagon and drag his dead body across the county, and I don’t mean secured by his arms and legs! It’s a death wish fo’ both of you.”

“I know, Liv,” I said, trembling. “I don’t want to bring harm on anyone. Why am I awash with such feelings, yet continue to pine for Colt’s return? What a horrible and disloyal woman I’ve become!”

Livie pulled me into her arms. “You are not horrible or disloyal. But you
are
a woman, and new to the feelings that come with the parts o’ you that are bloomin’ like springtime daffodils. All flowers stretch and grow as they unfold. The petals reach fo’ the sun one day and then fo’ rain the next. It all depends on what is sprinklin’ down over them. Folks ain’t much different.”

My shame unwound slightly as I eased back and saw Livie release a broad smile of assurance. I recognized something of me in Livie’s words as she continued.

“Don’t confuse admiration with love, Hannah. Marcus is an amazin’ man. I been in awe of him fo’ as long as I can remember. You don’t know much about his life, nor he of yours. You is attracted to courage and cause, not to a man you barely know. His touch speaks to the woman in you. Folks in the quarters is different ’cuz we ain’t bound up in fineries and formal etiquette in how we speak and interact. Once you crossed the boundary into our world, you were exposed to closeness of both body and emotion that you haven’t had the chance to experience with Colt yet. The warm tug inside you is no different from a daffodil drawn to the sun. It’s lettin’ you know that the woman in you is ripe and ready to be picked by the right man.”

From out of nowhere, the shuffle of boots in the yard froze Livie and me in the darkness. “Who’s that thar?” the man’s voice challenged. “Who be wanderin’ out o’ the quarters this time o’ night?”

Neither one of us breathed. My mind began spinning possible reasons to claim why Livie and I were crouched in the shadows with chisels and blades bundled in my fine shawl. No explanation would be without suspicion, yet pieces of desperate reasoning began falling into place in my mind. The voice demanded attention.

“Show yo’self, whoever you be.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but another voice popped from across the yard.

“It jes’ be me, ol’ Winston. What you doin’ prowlin’ around over here, Willy Jack?”

“Don’t need to answer to you, ol’ man,” Willy Jack growled as he strode through the moonlight toward Winston. “I’s the one askin’ the questions.”

The sight of a black man loosening a whip from his belt to confront another black man shook me. If Winston was afraid, he did not show it. Wisdom of years had Winston cajoling him with a grin of obedience.

“Don’t want no trouble, Willy Jack,” Winston said, raising a hand of surrender. “Jes’ fetchin’ my hat. I set it over yonder on the fence post earlier, then walked off without it.”

“Was you down by the blacksmith shop?”

“No, sah,” Winston said, puzzled. “Finished here a short time ago. Got halfway home and remembered my hat.”

Livie squeezed my arm as Willy Jack twisted the whip in his hand as he faced Winston. “Thought I heard footsteps down by the forge, then again up this way.”

“Probably a restless possum pokin’ about. Saw one a minute ago crawlin’ up under the wood pile over yonder.”

Willy Jack glanced over at the wood pile stacked to the left of where Livie and I were huddled in each other’s arms. Winston walked over to where his hat sat perched on the post while Willy Jack peered our way. Winston waved his hat at Willy Jack to show him he was true to his word. The gesture drew Willy Jack’s eyes from our direction. Winston paused before heading down the hill to the quarters.

“Esther Mae’s got some grits and gravy waitin’ fo me. There’s enough fo’ one more, if it suits you.”

Willy Jack’s guarded posture relaxed with surprise. His hand jiggled awkwardly, as though his dangling whip was now an unwanted appendage. He cranked his wrist behind him until the whip was reeled into a tight loop and tucked back onto his belt. Willy Jack looked like a little boy in the outline of Winston’s gentle shadow. Winston waited patiently for Willy Jack to find a way to accept without seeming desperate.

“Warm grits would sure taste better than cold ashcake.”

“Let’s get a move on, befo’ Esther Mae gets riled up waitin’ fo’ me.” Before turning to follow Willy Jack, Winston glanced our way and pressed his hat firmly on his head. His expression hinted that he knew there was more in the shadows than a wayward night critter. When the two men trudged beyond earshot, Livie puffed her cheeks in relief.

“Thought we was found out fo’ sure.”

My thumping heart echoed her panic. More than ever, I understood the danger in what we were doing. One careless decision or unguarded moment could result in tragedy, and all we hoped to gain would be torn from our grasp. Until now, no one paid much attention to the relationship Livie and I had developed, and therefore could not gauge how deep and encompassing it was. But if anyone discovered how far over the boundary we had stepped, we would face dire reproach.

“I must hurry to meet Marcus,” I said. “Stay in the quarters and be seen so you will not be connected to tonight’s events. If James returns, wait for Marcus at Castle Rock.”

“Seems a visit to Winston and Esther Mae would be a good way to pass the evenin’,” she said with a sly grin.

“What a great idea, Liv. If you sit under Willy Jack’s nose, you will be the last person they will look for when the captives go missing. And with so few people aware that Twitch is pirating slaves, he cannot launch an extensive inquisition.”

Although firm in her decision not to flee without James, Livie’s choice did not come without anguish. I touched her cheek as her eyes welled with tears. The joy of reuniting with her brother would be short-lived. By night’s end, he would vanish again, with no guarantee of returning. My heart was as pained as hers.

“Be careful, my friend,” Livie choked as she untied an indigo ribbon from her hair. She kissed it gently, then pressed it into my hand. “Give this piece o’ me to Marcus fo’ luck. Then he will always have a remembrance of me, even if we never lay eyes on each other again.”

Hugging Livie tight, I whispered in her ear, “Tonight we must remain strong, and never give up hope or belief in the promise of possibility. Your journey does not end because of one lost opportunity.”

Livie was bolstered by my words. Her strength and resolve reappeared, along with her coping sense of humor. She lifted her eyebrow. “Don’t you got somewhere else to be?”

The gravity of the moment would not allow us a smile, so we reached out a hand in acknowledgment and admiration. “I must go now,” I whispered.

She nodded. “And I must stay. Tell him to carry his sister’s love wherever he goes.”

With my bundled shawl pressed against my bosom to prevent the bouncing tools from giving away my footsteps, I wove a path through the tobacco rows, being careful not to break any plants along the way. Moonbeams outlined the boulder where Marcus awaited me, his anxious figure pacing in the shadows.

“Thought somethin’ happened, girl,” he said, pulling me behind the rock. “Where is James?”

“Twitch took him off the plantation to do some work in town. The shovels and hammers are with James, but I have chisels, some rocks, and hoe blades.” I tore my shawl in half and wrapped the pieces around each chisel. “It will muffle the sound of rock hitting iron.”

“Clever girl,” Marcus said, looking over the tools with a satisfied nod. He shoved the bundle in his satchel. “Times a- wastin’. I better get . . .”

I cut off his words before he could say good-bye. “I am going with you to West Gate.”

“Is you crazy, girl? It’s too dangerous.” Marcus touched my cheek with gratitude. “I love your gumption, but from here on, I go it alone.”