“It’s Adams,” Jupiter whispered in his ear.
Moses nodded as the horse drew near enough for him to recognize Adams’s mare Ginger. He took a deep breath and blew several strong puffs of air into the cracker he was holding. He knew all the other men were doing the same thing. He held the opening closed tightly between his fingers and stared down the road. All he could do was wait. Sweat broke out on his forehead, but his hands and eyes were steady as he gauged the distance carefully. Slowly, he raised the cracker until it was at eye level.
Adams was sitting on his mare loosely when he drew even with Moses and his band.
Moses, as soon as Ginger drew even with him, allowed one massive hand to slam against the blown-up cracker. A loud
pop!
exploded into the still winter night. Four more explosions followed his. Ginger, terrified by the loud, unexpected noises, bolted forward and then reared in protest. Adams, with no warning and no chance to prepare, tumbled backward.
Moses and his men were on Adams before he could even focus his eyes.
Dazed from his fall, he made no move as a piece of cloth was wrapped tightly around his eyes and another stuffed roughly into his mouth. His hands were pulled tightly behind him and tied, and his feet were trussed.
Jupiter, who had sprung forward to grab Ginger, stood quietly watching the operation.
Not a word would be spoken until they had disposed of Adams. They would take no chance he would recognize them.
Moses stood and stared down at the bound man who was just beginning to show signs of struggle.
He had hoped the fall would knock Adams out. He knew the slightest whisper or slip among the men could jeopardize all their lives. The other men waited, knowing what he would have to do next. He grimaced in distaste, but set his face with resolve, pulled his arm back, and aimed a mighty punch at Adams head.
Instantly, Adams’
s head lolled back and his body went limp. Moses leaned down and rifled his pockets. He was no thief, but part of his scheme was to make the attack look like a robbery. There was precious little money, but what he found he threw into the bushes with a mighty heave. Then he leaned down, threw Adams’s unconscious body over his shoulder and walked to where Jupiter was holding Ginger. Unceremoniously, he dumped Adams across the saddle, and used the two remaining pieces of rope to secure him. He took the reins, turned, and began walking rapidly down the road in the direction Ike Adams had come from.
Jupiter opened his mouth as if to say something, but Moses held his finger to his lips.
He would take no chances. There would be no words spoken until they had disposed of Adams and made it back to Cromwell safely. Jupiter nodded, and sprinted on ahead so he could watch for approaching riders and signal Moses to hide in the woods with his bounty. There would be no way to explain five slaves and a tied-up overseer.
Rose watched carefully as the men who had returned earlier from the
possum hunt filed into the great barn. Her hopes that Moses and the rest of the men he had taken would be with them were quickly dashed. Questioning looks were on many faces, but no one said anything. Ignorance was best when it came to things like this. Music was soon floating from the cracks in the barn. Nobody happening by would think anything was out of order. The
big times
Christmas Eve dance was under way! In spite of her worries, Rose found herself caught in the spirit of the music. Drums, made from hollowed logs, beat a steady rhythm. Handmade, stringed instruments blended with the two fiddles Carrie had sent down from the big house for the celebration. Lanterns illuminated the cavernous building and the smell of barbecue pervaded the air. The clapping and stomping got louder and louder as the evening progressed.
Sam danced over to where Rose leaned against the wall, watching the celebration.
“Not dancing ain’t going to solve nothing, girl. They’s gettin’ ready to
pat the Juba
. How about one dance with an old man?”
Rose smiled in spite of herself and nodded.
“Think you can keep up with me, Sam?” she teased.
Sam grinned, grabbed her hand, and spun her onto the floor.
Rose laughed and joined her voice to sing with the rest.
Juba this and Juba that
Juba killed a yeller cat
Juba this and Juba that,
Hold your partner where you at.
The sun was just beginning to tint the horizon when Moses walked into the cabin.
Rose, braiding her hair in front of the warm fire, spun to meet him. “Moses!” she cried as she ran to embrace him.
Moses held her close for a long moment and then pushed her gently away.
“You’ve got to get to the big house. Now ain’t the time for questions.” His voice was tired, but his eyes were content.
Rose stared up at him.
“Everything is alright?” She knew they didn’t have time to talk.
Moses nodded and leaned down to brush her lips with his own.
“I’ll tell you about it later. Merry Christmas, wife.”
Rose smiled lovingly and pressed her lips against his, longing to stay home and take care of her exhausted husband.
“Merry Christmas, Moses.”
THIRTY-TWO
Carrie was up long before the rest of the house.
Her father had not once mentioned Ike Adams and the slaves, but she knew today would be different. Would he accept her explanation? A soft noise caused her to look up just as Rose entered the house to slip down the hall. “Rose,” she called softly.
Rose started
but smiled when she saw only Carrie. “You scared me, Miss Carrie!” She walked over and joined her friend next to the Christmas tree. “You’re up mighty early.”
Carrie nodded and looked sharply at her friend.
“You look exhausted. Is everything all right?”
Rose hesitated.
“Ike Adams was on his way here last night to talk to your father.”
Carrie waited.
She knew there was more to the story.
Rose just shrugged her shoulders.
“I don’t really know what happened. Moses just had time to tell me everything was all right when he came in this morning.”
“Moses!
What did he have to do with it?” Suddenly Carrie was frightened. She knew how much Adams hated Moses already. What was going on?
Rose shrugged again and looked around.
“Later, Miss Carrie. All I know is that he stopped him,” she whispered.
Carrie started as she heard footsteps on the stairs.
Rose melted from the room and disappeared into the kitchen. Carrie was left to stare and wonder.
“Merry Christmas, daughter.”
Carrie forced a quick smile to her lips, grateful her father was so preoccupied. Before her mother died, she never would have gotten away with the game she was now playing. Her father would have known in an instant she was hiding something. “Merry Christmas, Father.”
Thomas gave her a quick hug and then turned to sink into his chair.
After his initial greeting, he seemed content to stare into the flames of the fire. Carrie could tell his thoughts had already moved on to Richmond and what was waiting for him when he returned. It was just as well, she thought with a sigh. She sat down in the chair next to the fire and allowed her own thoughts to wonder.
Finally, her father came out of his reverie.
“What time will the slaves be here this morning?”
Carrie shook her head.
“They won’t be, Father.” Thomas looked startled—with good reason. The slaves of Cromwell Plantation always came to the big house on Christmas morning. It was as much a tradition as the yule log. Carrie hastened to explain. “I didn’t want to share you this year, Father,” she said with a smile. “You’re home for such a short period of time...” She allowed her voice to drift off sadly, almost laughing at her performance. “I handed out all the clothing and gifts the day before you got here. The slaves seemed very happy. They all sent their best to you.”
This strange turn of events seemed to have shaken Thomas from his lethargy.
He frowned quickly. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
Carrie smiled gently.
“This is the first time you have mentioned the slaves, Father. I thought you had plenty else to occupy your thoughts.”
Thomas stared at her for a brief moment.
“I’ve been selfish haven’t I, Carrie? You are carrying all the weight of the plantation yourself.” He shook his head slowly as he talked.
Suddenly, Carrie realized just how content she was running the plantation.
It was not her dream, but she was suddenly very sure she was where she was supposed to be and doing what she was supposed to do. “You’re not being selfish at all, Father.” She moved over and knelt next to his chair. “I am quite happy here.”
Thomas stared at her as if trying to make himself believe it.
“I should at least speak with Ike Adams. Thank heavens you have a competent overseer!”
Carrie controlled the sneer of contempt that almost surfaced.
She settled for just shaking her head. “Mr. Adams has worked very hard this year. I gave him some time off for Christmas. I do believe he has gone to visit family.” When Thomas frowned again, she hastened to reassure him. “We’re managing fine here, Father. Didn’t you say the place looked wonderful?”
Thomas nodded.
“You’re doing a superb job.” Still, his eyes were troubled.
Carrie knew she needed to steer him away from the topic of the plantation.
“And
you’re
doing a wonderful job, Father. I’m so proud of what you’re doing in Richmond. What will happen now that South Carolina has seceded?” She knew she was breaking her own rule of no politics on Christmas, but it was the only sure way she knew to distract her father. It worked. He was still talking when Robert and Matthew descended the stairs.
Breakfast was a casual affair as they settled down around the table to laugh and talk.
Everyone ate their share of the grilled chicken, eggs, ham, fish, hominy grits, and biscuits piled high on platters set before them. The rest of the morning passed pleasantly as they played games, sang around the piano, and talked.
Around noon, Robert turned to Carrie.
“Could I talk you into a ride? I could use some fresh air and exercise.” Carrie quickly agreed, but cast a look at Matthew sitting across the room with her father.
He seemed to read her thoughts as he looked up with a quick smile.
“Leave me out of this one, please. I would much rather sit here with your father. My hectic schedule has left me desiring no more than peace and quiet.”