Storm Clouds Rolling In (20 page)

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Authors: Ginny Dye,Virginia Gaffney

Tags: #Historical

BOOK: Storm Clouds Rolling In
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Moses said nothing else
, but Rose knew he was watching her closely. She turned and looked into the deep eyes regarding her so carefully. Rose felt a slight sense of panic that those eyes could read her so well. Part of her wanted to turn and run as fast and as far as she could. Another part wanted him to see every part of her. “I can’t go, Moses,” she finally whispered. “I could never be free as long as my mama is a slave. I will never leave her. I will do what I can here to help my people, but I will never leave my mama.”

Moses nodded.
“I understand,” he said simply. “I understand, Rose.”

Rose took comfort in believing him.
Somehow, it lessened the pain of her decision.

 

 

No more words were spoken as the two scattered the remains of the fire so as to not leave a trace of their presence, and traveled back along the path
from which they had arrived. If anything, Rose was more careful. Anyone up and around in the quarters would be sure to hear the betraying crack of a limb. Breaking out onto the edge of the clearing above Sarah’s cabin, Rose came to a standstill. She motioned with her hands to indicate Moses was to keep going. He touched her arm and then melted into the shadows along the edge of the woods. Rose watched only for a moment before she turned and disappeared back into the woods. It would never do to return on the road leading to the quarters. It would be too easy for someone to spot her.

Rose slipped from the woods just behind the
big house. She glanced up at the window where she knew Sam was watching. Sam didn’t care anything about learning to read, but he did care about taking care of her. The old butler had watched her grow up from a child. She edged carefully across the yard to the back door. Sam always made sure it was open for her. Under his careful tutelage, Rose had learned which boards to avoid so her steps would not create alarming creaks in the house. Not until he heard the soft closing of the door to her tiny room would Sam move away from the window where he watched so carefully. Rose was late. He would wonder what kept her out so long.
 

 

Eulalia Adams couldn’t sleep. She didn’t know how long she had tossed and turned in the darkness. Dread kept her awake. It was late and her husband wasn’t home. She knew that meant trouble.

Just then
, she heard the sound of horse hooves pounding on the road.
Oh God, let the children stay asleep
, she thought. She remembered the terror of her own childhood. She didn’t want that for her own children, but the relentless cycle was continuing.

A muffled curse as her husband stumbled onto the porch confirmed her worst fears.
He used to only get drunk on Saturday nights. Now, he would sometimes stay gone all day Sunday on drinking binges and return home late in the night.

Eulalia tried to control her trembling as she waited.
Maybe he would just fall into a drunken stupor and pass out quietly on the bed. Oh, she knew there would be hell to pay for everyone who came in contact with him the next day, but perhaps she and the children could be spared this time.

“Woman!”
Ike’s slurred roar erupted from the main room of the clapboard house.

Abandoning all hope of a reprieve, Eulalia jumped up and hurried into the room, hoping to keep the children from being
awakened.

“Why ain’t my dinner done, woman?”
Anger twisted Ike’s face and caused his narrow gray eyes to become mere slits.

“Ike!” Eulalia exclaimed.
“It must be after three in the morning. Dinner was put away a long time ago.”

“Yeah?” he growled.
“Well get it out again. How’s a man to survive if his own woman don’t get him food?”

Eulalia bit back the angry words that rose to her lips and turned toward the kitchen table.

“Those mingling Yankees are at it again
.”

Eulalia busied herself cutting fresh slabs of cornbread and pouring a large glass of milk.
She was used to her husband’s tirades.

Ike’s bitter voice continued.
“That bunch of niggers I brought to Cromwell yesterday? There was a big one in the batch. Moses is his name. He’s going to be trouble. I know it. My brother told me to keep an eye on him. That nigger’s daddy was a bad one. Killed a man up in those parts when they were trying to hang him. I heard that old nigger had the very devil himself in him. Said there was no other way he could have killed that man without there being a devil.” He paused. “Woman,” he roared. “Listen to me when I’m talking to you.”

Eulalia choked back a bitter retort and turned to him.
At least she had the cornbread cut. If she was lucky he would fall asleep before he wanted more. She moved across the kitchen briskly and placed the plate in front of him.

I
ke reached up and grabbed her wrist in a cruel hold. Eulalia gasped but didn’t utter a word or make a move. She knew it would only fuel his anger.

“You hear what I said about that nigger?”

“Yes, Ike.” Eulalia had seen his anger and bitterness grow stronger and deeper each day. Ever since he had lost their farm and slaves, and gone to work for Cromwell. The bitterness ate at him like a blight. She was afraid of the hate growing in him. He had never been what one would call loving, but he had treated her and the children well before. Now they were nothing more than additional targets for his anger.

“That nigger came here to get me!
That Moses fellow is after me.”

Eulalia knew better than to tell him that was ridiculous.
She knew those slaves had no choice about where they were sold when they stepped onto the auction block. She also knew there was no convincing Ike of that when he was drunk.

“He’s a big one, he is
, but I got me something bigger.” Slurring his words, Ike suddenly reached down and whipped out the pistol he kept concealed in his waistband.

Eulalia gasped and shrank back in fear.
Lantern light gleamed off the shiny metal and added an almost demonic glimmer to her husband’s glowing eyes. “Ike! Put that thing away.”

Ike laughed roughly and pulled her toward him.
“You think I’m going to let that nigger get me?” Pressing the gun barrel into her temple, he continued his low, mean laugh. “I’ll just be waiting till that nigger steps out of line. He’ll get what’s coming to him. I’ll put a bullet right through his head. Cromwell will just have to deal with it.”

Eulalia froze
in fear. She knew if she moved that his unsteady hand might pull the trigger.
Oh, God
...Motionless, she held her breath as she prayed. And waited. Visions of five-year-old Matthew and eight-year-old Betty Ann asleep in their snug beds rose up both to haunt her and give her the strength to remain silent.

After what seemed an eternity
, Ike sighed and lowered the gun. Rubbing his face as if suddenly confused, he released her wrist. Quickly, Eulalia stepped out of his reach. Watching him carefully, she knew the long binge of alcohol was taking its toll. Ike stared sightlessly at the food in front of him. His facial muscles seemed to droop along with the rest of his body. Eulalia watched as sleep overcame him. She made no effort to move his drunken body from its position at the table. Let him sleep it off there. She would make sure the children stayed in their rooms longer in the morning. Or maybe she would spirit them out the back door to play. She could bring them breakfast outside. They knew. They wouldn’t even ask questions. They had learned a long time ago that the answers didn’t make sense.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TEN

 

 

 

 

 

 

Carrie rose quietly just as the morning was casting its first rosy hues onto the horizon.
She was careful not to make a smidgen of noise as she dressed and pulled her hair back into a loose braid. No one would see her. She would make sure she was back before the rest of the house began to stir. She had always loved to rise early. This morning especially, she needed the quiet solitude found when the rest of the world was still asleep.

She eased the door to the room open and looked back to see if any of her friends were stirring.
Satisfied they were still deep in slumber, she moved down the hallway, descended the stairway quietly, and carefully closed the big door behind her. She had escaped detection and now turned to skip lightly down the stairs of the wide porch.

“Oh!”
A delighted gasp escaped her lips. Motionless, she watched as the early morning sun, still lurking below the horizon, teased the wispy clouds into a mural of pink and orange flames that cast their light onto a purple canvas. Early morning mist from the river rolled through the trees and shrubs, beckoning her to come explore the mysteries of the world. Carrie smiled, flung her arms out to embrace the morning and then ran down the stairs and across the wide expanse of lawn. As she approached the edge of the lawn, she stopped and glanced back once more to make sure no one was watching.

What was that?
Had she seen a drape fall? She stared hard at the house and then laughed at her imagination as she turned and headed down the wooded trail leading to the river.

The day promised to be a warm one.
Still, Carrie was grateful for the warmth her cloak offered as she hugged it close to her body. It would take the sun a while to burn off the mist and warm the early spring air. For a moment, she considered going to the stables and claiming Granite for a ride but decided it would take too long. She needed time alone before she had to be back for breakfast. Fragrant odors of dirt and decaying leaves assailed her nostrils as she moved gracefully down the trail beneath the canopy of new spring foliage. Wildflowers raised their heads to catch the first rays of sun. She rounded a curve and surprised a deer just moving from the woods to cross the trail. Startled, they both stared at each other. Satisfied Carrie meant no harm, the tiny doe turned and stepped carefully back into the trees without issuing a snort of alarm. Enchanted, Carrie walked slower. She didn’t want to miss a single treasure the woods had to offer. Already she felt her heart responding to the magic of the early morning.

When the trail emptied out onto a clearing along the river, she dropped down on a lichen-covered log and gazed out into the shrouded mist.
Fingers of moist air surrounded her, causing tendrils of her curly hair to escape the confines of its braid. She tilted her head back and watched the last flaming clouds flicker and die as the sun slowly turned the purple dawn into a deep blue and the clouds transformed into puffy white cotton balls. Just as she felt that her heart would explode with anticipation, Carrie caught the first edge of the golden sun sneak its way onto the canvas of the morning. Mist swirled around her as it sought to escape the warming rays of the giant orb. Carrie laughed quietly knowing she would never tire of the miracle of God’s world.

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