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Early
That same morning, Master Hollings had called for a meeting between Aunt Matilda, Missy, and Early. He'd asked everyone to wear comfortable clothing for a walk, but Early wondered if he had the strength for an outing. His breathing still seemed labored, filling her with the fear of an unknown future.
Aunt Matilda stood by the barn, talking to George as the other three stepped out from the back of the plantation home. When the handsome man turned away to tend to a limping horse, she noticed rips in his shirt and wondered if the horse had done him harm. She hoped not. Aunt Matilda didn't look happy as she turned away from the scene and joined the others. Early raised her eyebrows in question, but the aunt shook her head to dismiss further inquiry.
They headed down a path leading them toward the morning sun. The master leaned heavily on his sister. He paused from time to time to catch his breath, his eyes looking toward the heavens. Cloud-filled skies reflected a warm pink and purple glow. Early stepped along the well-known trail, a few steps behind the others. She'd accompanied Missy to her mother's grave many times over the years and helped collect wildflowers to place near the chiseled stone marker. When they reached the burial grounds, Master Hollings led them to another grave, grown over with green moss and weeds.
He leaned over and brushed at the moss-covered gravestone. A cough shook his body and rattled in his chest as he stirred the dust from the faded headstone. "Guess it won't be long until I'm joining my wayward brother in the soil. Hopefully I'll make it to the good place, but I'm not sure about brother Jeremiah's soul."
Early lingered behind Missy, wondering why they brought her on the family outing. At least Mistress Amanda and Sidney had not joined the others. Mist fell from the overcast sky and left glistening drops on buds pushing their way through rotted leaves and hopeful shoots of green grass awakening to moisture and warmer temperatures.
The master cleared his throat and turned to look at Aunt Matilda. "I know there have been speculations about the relationship between Missy and Early all their lives."
"You haven't been fooling any of us, brother. It's about time you owned up to your indiscretions." Aunt sniffed and wagged a bony finger.
"That's where you are wrong, my dear sister."
"Harrumph!" Aunt 'Tilda fisted her hands and moved them to her hips. Her eyes focused an accusing glare on the master.
"Unfortunately, our brother was a lot like Sidney. My daughter has a cousin, not a sister, as you no doubt thought to be the case." He cleared his throat and shifted his gaze between the two younger women. His face wasn't the only one that paled at the announcement.
Silence filled the air, except for a distant robin's chirp. No one spoke, not even Aunt Matilda, who seemed to be praying.
Early shifted her gaze and stared into Missy's matching hazel orbs. Understanding filled her heart. She'd always felt like they were almost sisters, but the idea of being cousins had never crossed her thoughts.
Missy looked like she might swoon. Early felt close to doing the same, but her looser garments kept her breathing, unlike Missy's tightly corseted waist. Even Aunt Matilda started fanning her face and gaped at her brother. Then her features changed.
"We cannot let history repeat itself. We need to protect both our girls, and I have a plan." Aunt 'Tilda's voice grew strong.
"I understand. I may not like your plan, but it may be best for all." Master Hollings' troubled eyes surveyed the group as he steadied himself by leaning on the cemetery's iron fence. For the first time in her life, Early looked her master straight in the eye.
Missy
That evening, Missy stared into her mirror and looked through her tears at the reflected hazel eyes. She'd always wanted a sister, and in the recesses of her mind had wondered if her relationship with Early held the answer. She'd never considered having a cousin. Aunt Matilda never had a child of her own. Aunt Mary Etta raised her children in Ohio. She'd never met the much older northern cousins. Perhaps she would someday.
Papa never mentioned Uncle Jeremiah during her growing years, other than saying he died tragically in a horse riding accident. Now she knew why he'd avoided telling her more about his brother. At least she knew Papa was an honorable man and not Early's father. She struggled with that thought but chose not to dwell on the matter. She wondered if her birth mother had known the truth or had only suffered from the gossip surrounding Early's mother. What did poor Early think about the information they'd learned this morning? The girl had a pure heart, almost biblically pure. How could she be the offspring of such a scoundrel? She'd had a godly mother, who'd given them both a heavenly heritage. That was how she was so good-natured. Why did her cousin have to endure slavery?
She left her room and marched down the stairs, seeking Papa. She heard his voice in the library and headed in that direction.
Aunt Matilda sat in the chair across from his desk. Her hands faced the sky. "Arthur, you have to let the girl go, for her own good. We can't have our own blood relatives in the throes of slavery. You've held onto this for too long. Help me make things right."
"But Missy is attached to the girl. It would break her heart for me to separate them," Papa rasped out.
Missy stepped into the room, feeling braver than Queen Esther. It was a new feeling and power flowed into her raised head and voice. "Then don't separate us, Papa. It sounds like you may be giving my heritage here at Holly Plantation away to Sidney anyway. Let the two of us go, before Sidney ruins one or the other of us like Jeremiah ruined Early's mother. Give me a portion of the inheritance that should be mine and allow us the freedom to join our aunts in the north."
God had given her the words to speak, many of them reminiscent of memorized verses from childhood. Her heart felt torn as she looked at the father she loved. She saw from the gray tint of his cheeks that his time on earth might be limited. If he let them go, it might be the last time she saw him alive. She put her hands to her cheeks to cover the tears that flowed and sank into a tapestry-covered chair that matched the one her aunt occupied.
Papa cleared his voice and reached across the desk for her hand. "I understand. I hate to see you leave here, but your aunt and I were just discussing the matter. Unfortunately, all my funds are tied up in recent purchases and this year's future crops. I don't have much to share with you."
"Then give me Early as my inheritance. I'll be eighteen soon. Let me have her papers and the right to set her free when we reach Aunt Mary Etta's home." She took her father's offered hand in both of hers and looked deeply into his eyes, searching for a positive answer.
Papa released her hand and pulled a desk drawer open. He pulled out a sheaf of papers and sorted through them until he found what he looked for. With a few swirls of his pen, he pushed the paper toward Missy. "She is yours. It's the least I can do. I will miss you, child. You have been a gift to me from your mother." Tears coursed down his pasty cheeks as he came around the desk and hugged his daughter.
Aunt Matilda's voice broke through their tears. "Now that you've settled that matter, we need to talk about the horse and carriage you were going to sell me."
"Yes, sister. I have a very gentle mare that I have in mind. She's great with both a small carriage and for riding. She's performing quite well for our new groomsman."
At the mention of the horseman, Missy's heart sank. He would make the perfect companion for Early. If they moved on, would Early be able to find someone who cared for her? "Papa, is the carriage going to come with a driver?"
"I'm very adept at handling a horse, young lady." Aunt 'Tilda crossed her arms.
"I don't doubt that you are, but I think the groomsman who has handled the horse might be an asset to our travels." Missy paused before continuing in a quiet voice. "I think he might add to our safety, especially Early's. I doubt she will be allowed to sleep in our room when we stop at an inn each night."
"Are you saying he would sleep in the room with Early? I don't think that is proper." Aunt's indignation filled the room. Papa nodded in agreement.
"But what if they were married? I happen to know that they seem like a good match. I've enjoyed overhearing their conversations on several carriage rides."
Papa shook his head. "While this sounds like a good plan, I can spare your maid—I mean cousin—but I need a good man with the horses. I can't afford to replace him at this time."
Missy sagged into her chair.
"What if I bought him?" Matilda looked disgusted with herself, but she sat up in her chair. "I never wanted to own a slave, but this will only be until we can get them both up north. Then I'll set him free, too."
"He doesn't come cheap. You may not have that kind of money." Papa transformed into the businessman he'd always been as he named a steep price.
"You can't be serious. My funds will be seriously depleted." Aunt's face begged for a better deal.
"I am. It's only slightly higher than what I paid for him." His eyes narrowed as he looked at his sister. The two bargainers glared at each other for a few moments.
"Please, Papa. Do this for Early, your niece."
His shoulders lowered. "I can come down a little, not much more. I have to replace him. Old John isn't getting any younger."
"I'm glad you came to your senses, Arthur. I shouldn't be doing this, but the time has come to stand up for what is right—even if I have to do a wrong to correct it." 'Tilda reached for her brother's hand and sealed the deal.
Papa searched his drawer once more and signed George's paper over to his sister. "I just have one request. Do not tell anyone about your plan to set them free. It would not be wise for Amanda or Sidney to have that knowledge."
Papa coughed. For a few moments he seemed lost in thought, and then he turned his attention to Missy. "I'll arrange for the preacher to stay after worship on Sunday for their vows. You had best get your cousin ready for the changes that will be happening in the next few weeks."
He dismissed his daughter and turned to his sister. "We have some details to work out before your departure."
Missy bustled up the stairs and into her room, where she found Early mending clothing.
––––––––
EARLY
"Aunt 'Tilda and I have decided you’re going to marry that young buck and you're going to be happy about it or else." Missy's determined voice hinted at both the power she had over her slave and the concern that she had for the young woman who had been her near sister for their lifetime.
Early ground her teeth. Her fingers stabbed the mending needle into the petticoat she was stitching back together. "Don't I have something to say about this, cousin?"
"Trust me, Early, it will be for the best. Besides, I can tell you both like each other. Since we're going to be traveling together, you're going to need someone to protect you. Most inns won’t let you stay with me. I'm sure you don't want to even consider what might happen to you in whatever quarters they put slaves for the night."
Early spoke through clenched teeth. "He's not a young buck. His name is George and you know it. Now, maybe you're seeing something that I can't, because he certainly hasn't said anything about being in love with me. One time I thought he might care, but whenever I start thinking that, he scoots away and starts talking about—well, never mind what he starts talking about. I don’t think he'll agree to it."
"George won't have much choice. I've already pointed out to Papa that he would be a good match for you and it will work out perfectly for us to have our driver and lady's maid along for the trip."
"How could you do this to me, Missy? I've stood by you all these years and obeyed you to the best of my ability and now you want to cast me off like—like a slave."
"I'm sorry, Early, but it's for your own good. I wish it was only me doing this to you, but there's more to it than you or I really know or understand. Most of this plan isn't mine. It has something to do with an agreement between Aunt 'Tilda and Papa. We can't tell you everything, but I think you'll be all right in the end. Papa's already arranged for the wedding to take place down at the church on Sunday afternoon, so you better be thinking about which dress of mine you want to borrow for the ceremony."
George
"You have to be joshing me! I can't be marrying anybody. You know I've got plans." George hissed the last part of his tirade as he vented to Old John. Banging loudly on a heated piece of iron caused the horseshoe to split into two pieces. One fell to the ground with a thunk while the hammer clunked against the one still sitting on the huge black anvil.
"I'm only telling you what I overheard when I drove the master and his sister, Miss 'Tilda around. They gots plans for you and they involve that little pampered filly you been looking at with your big brown eyes." John pranced around the stable, holding out an imaginary skirt, and fluttered his eyelashes at the frustrated young man.
"Early is not a horse and she doesn't act like that around me, so you better quit your dancing around."
"I noticed you didn't leave when the owl was hootin' the other week. I figured that maybe a certain maid might a been the one keepin' you from heading out. I heard there was a couple of fellows that took out from the McDonald place that night."
"Yeah, I heard that too. I also heard they didn't get very far so it was good I didn't go—seems like the road to freedom doesn't work too well this far south."
"Maybe marrying the little woman will harness your desire to wander. It ain't too bad here compared to a lot of places."
"It could be worse but that still don't make it right for a man to own another and decide things, like who should be hopping the broom with them."
"No need to worry about gettin' a broom. They was talking about a real church wedding for the two of you, so you oughta be looking good when they come to take you away. I'm thinking you better be polishin' the buttons on your drivin' livery if you know what's good for you.”
"I don't want to do this, John. It don't fit my plans even if she is a pretty gal. I want my freedom, and dragging her along would just cause problems."
"I could deal with a problem as perty as her. She's one good lookin’ gal."
"Was your Sally as pretty as Early, John?"
"You're trying to change the subject, ain't ya? Sally was quite a gal." The wistful smile on old John's face spoke of the love that he had for his departed wife. "But it's your chance now, son, so why don't ya admit that you like the girl and enjoy what the master has planned?"
"I'd like to, but I can't put another family through what happened to mine, when there's a chance they'll be sold off whenever the master wants some spending money."
"So you're talking about having little ones already." John laughed and threw an elbow into George's side.
"Not gonna happen if I can help it."
George stomped away from the chuckling old man and entered the first stall he approached. It didn’t help that the stall contained one of the breeding mares who was due to foal within the next week or so. The poor horse's distended sides were evidence of her discomfort as he slowly led the beast from her confinement and turned her out into the paddock. Cleaning her stall went quickly and then he completed all the other mucking chores in record time.
Missy
Missy rarely ventured down to where Early normally slept. Today the two young women sat on the edge of the simple rope bed, sorting through her cousin's meager belongings and packing them into a calico pillowcase. They added her few chemises, petticoats, two dark servant's dresses and a worn quilt to the stash. Early's mother had stitched the top of the quilt out of scraps of cloth from her young mistress's childhood gowns. The back had been pieced together from the brown cloth used for her mother's serving dresses. It held memories of picnics on the lawn and huddling together on stormy nights. Missy hugged the blanket close before pushing it into the cloth case.
"Your mother was the best thing that ever happened to me."
"Guess you can call her your aunt now, just as I can call 'Tilda my aunt." Early stood and looked around the room. "I can't say I will miss Nellie's snores. I'm really glad you've shared your balcony and room with me for a while this spring. I will miss being with you in this old house. I only wish..."
The sound of someone tramping down the stairs echoed through the basement area as Sidney called out their names. Without saying a word, they nodded toward the fireplace where Nellie sometimes did her cooking when it was too hot to cook upstairs. Pushing aside what looked like part of the oven bricks, they snuck into the tiny cellar room where they'd hidden as children. A single shaft of light kept them from total darkness. They heard him stomp across the dirt floor and pause near their hiding place.
"I smell lavender. They should be around here somewhere. Pretty maids ripe for the picking..." His feet shuffled away as he muttered, "I want to make one of them mine before they get married off to someone else. I like my women pure."
Missy stifled her gasp and hugged her cousin closer. Marriage would mean safety for Early. She hoped they all made it out of town before Sidney could do either of them harm. The two girls waited in the near darkness for a long stretch of time before slipping from their hiding place. Using the servants' stairway, they entered Missy's suite and locked the door behind them.
Aunt 'Tilda's off-tune warbling reached their ears from the neighboring room. Missy stepped next door to lock her aunt's door also.
"Aunt Matilda, we've had another near miss with that scoundrel. If we hadn't hidden in a—a special place, then he might have done us harm."
"Hmmm. This is not good. I think maybe it is time for Arthur to send that scallywag on an errand until we can be off, or at least until Early's wedding day."