Chapter Ten

Aunt 'Tilda seethed with anger after waking from her drug-induced nap, which had lasted for the rest of the day and into the next morning. When she could walk without tipping, she stomped from their rooms, telling her niece to lock the doors behind her. Missy's empty stomach rumbled, reminding her that she'd refused to let the maid enter at yesterday's mealtimes, in fear that Sidney might be outside. She paced around the room as she waited for her aunt to return from a confrontation between brother and sister. She lifted desperate prayers until she heard her aunt outside the door, asking to enter.

"Melissa, your father has granted permission for us to start our travels tomorrow. In light of Sidney's advances yesterday, we think it might be best to be on our way before something else happens." Aunt Matilda closed the door behind her. She propped open her trunk that had been sitting at the foot of her bed and began to fold clothing into its depth.

Missy's heart jerked at the idea of leaving her father forever. She hated that Sidney had forced her father's hand, but relief washed over her shoulders at the thought of being out of his reach. Thinking about Papa's sallow cheeks and raspy voice made her realize she might not see him again. Would Amanda offer him help if he needed it? She could only hope. Surely Papa had seen something in her that made him want to marry her. It certainly had not been her son, though he seemed to have bewitched Papa with his smooth words, until recently.

A few moments later, she heard a rap at the door. Fear snaked up her back until she heard Moses identify himself.

"Yes, ma'am. The doctor's already come and confined the young master to his bed." His laughter resounded through the solid door. "I'll be waiting around outside your door for a while. He won't be bothering you while I'm on guard."

Missy opened the door and took the plate of food from his hands. "Thank you, Moses. I will rest easy knowing you are keeping watch."

As she ate the nourishing stew, guilt plagued her. She hated knowing she'd hurt another person, but there hadn't been much choice. Sidney would have done her more harm than she'd inflicted on him.

Her thoughts drifted to Early's arranged marriage to George. She wondered if they had done wrong by forcing the two to wed. Her newly recognized cousin had barely spoken to her since the nuptials last Sunday.

Aunt snapped a chemise in the air before folding it into her trunk. "Choose your wardrobe carefully. You will need sensible clothing for travel. If you decide to stay up north with us, you won't find many occasions to wear any hooped skirts."

"I'll see what I have that works." Missy put down her spoon and stepped into the adjoining room. A rhythmic knock at the door let her know Early stood outside. When her cousin entered the room, she carried a basket of freshly launder clothing. Papa must have put his foot down and returned her maid to her former duties after Aunt's earlier visit. "Welcome back." Early nodded with her eyes downcast. Missy sighed. "No need to put the laundry away. We're going to start our trip tomorrow, so we'll be loading up a travel trunk with things we need."

Missy huffed at the one-word reply. "Yes, we. Aunt Matilda, you, me, and your George. We're going to leave for the trip we talked about. Now help me pick out some simple travel clothing."

"I understand." A fleeting grin passed over her face. "I heard you made sure he would not be bothering either of us for a while. I'm proud of you."

Moses tapped at the door and then tugged a travel trunk into the room. "Heard you'd be needin' this." He nodded to Early, then headed to the door with a sad expression on his face.

"Good-bye, Moses." Early swiped at her eyes with her shoulder as she watched the old servant close the door on his way out. Missy heard her cousin sigh as the girl turned her focus back to placing folded undergarments into the trunk. "Which dresses do you think you would like packed for the trip?"

"Something simple, this green one for sure. The lavender one has always been a favorite for everyday wear." Missy paused and wrapped her arms around her cousin, sharing her tears. "Pick out a couple of my dresses for yourself, because things are going to be different on this trip." She picked up a small satchel and filled it with her journal and pencils. "You never know when these might come in handy again." Both young women giggled. Missy stepped back and searched the room. "Have you seen the little pouch you sewed for me to wear under my garments? I might want to put a few keepsakes in there for safekeeping."

Holly Plantation

Dear Mary Etta,

Tomorrow our journey will begin. It has been a trying time. Both girls have faced the unseemly advances of Arthur's stepson. Those actions made it clear to our brother that changes must happen to protect the girls. He agreed to send them with me as I journey your way. I have had to make a hard choice and do something that I would never have dreamed of doing since the day I married my Frederick. I am now the owner of a slave. I had no other way to save our dear niece's new husband. Yes, one of them is married. Arthur gifted Early's papers to Melissa as a gift for her upcoming eighteenth birthday. That will give her the right to offer her cousin freedom once we are out of states that embrace slavery. We arranged for Early to marry a young man in order to discourage Sidney. It seems he is only interested in pure young women.

Unfortunately, after their marriage he turned his attention toward our Melissa, who stood up for herself in a way that made our brother recognize the problem. I didn't have the heart to separate our Early from her man. Arthur might have gifted him to us had circumstances been different, but Amanda's expensive lifestyle required that I pay dearly for his ownership. Securing a horse and conveyance has also depleted my monies, but I think we will be able to make it your way. I hope you will have the heart to take us all in when we arrive from what may turn into a dangerous journey.

I am enclosing a note for Samuel filled with poetry for the Cause.

With love,

Matilda

Samuel eagerly reached for the papers once his aunt finished reading her own letter.

Mary Etta's eyebrows rose in curiosity. She chuckled as she pulled them out of his reach. "It seems your interest in my niece has grown since our last letters arrived."

"Her poems are good for the Cause. Don't read more into the situation than you should." He prayed the Lord didn't think him a liar for the words that fell from his lips. "I can't believe your sister owns a slave. Surely there had to be another way." He hoped the distraction would take her mind off of romance.

"She must not have had a choice, or she would have taken it. Now, how badly do you want your poetry?" Mary Etta held the papers close to her nose and inhaled.

He held his hand out and frowned until she handed them over with a knowing grin.

Dear Samuel Woodson,

Aunt 'Tilda tells me that we will be going on an adventure that may involve an eventual meeting between the two of us. So, for now I will no longer attempt to send missives your way. Papa has gifted me with a new set of Thoreau pencils for recording our travels in my journal. I may have done some damage to my other set. He planned to give me the new set for one of my birthday gifts, so I will celebrate a little early. This note will be my last ink-stained correspondence for a while.

Papa's final gift to me is more precious than any I have ever received. He has given my cousin Early's papers to me so that she can be free once we find our way north. You might remember her as a slave who served refreshments at the wedding, but Papa has revealed our true relationship. I had suspected a blood relationship but did not know the truth. She has always been like a sister and now I know she is even more. She is my kinsman, the daughter of an uncle I never knew and my beloved nanny. In the future she will be my equal.

Sincerely Yours,

Melissa Hollings

He tried to stop his reaction to the words 'sincerely yours,' but his mind had other plans. She was not his and never would be, but his memory traveled back to the dance they had shared at her father's wedding reception. She'd been his for a few moments as they'd swept away their differences while the music flew them into a world of their own. Her soft hair had brushed against his chin and made him forget his vow to never marry again. When the music stopped and a female slave stepped near to offer him refreshment, the spell had been abruptly broken as he'd looked at the serving woman with eyes and face so like the woman he held.

Missy's talk of not liking the way she lived had loosened his tongue at the wedding. He'd laid down the challenge of using writing as a tool. It had been a dangerous choice. That night, she could have betrayed his purpose to her family. She didn't. Now she followed through with poetry and purpose as she began her new journey. He flattened her page filled with poems on his worktable and studied the first one.

Samuel re-read the short letter and poem. The poetry clearly symbolized the journey of the little group, perhaps too clearly. He could not print it as an article for his paper. The poem would give hints about the journey that might jeopardize their safety. He reached for his aunt's hands and together they prayed for safe travels. Inwardly, he hoped the naive woman wouldn't endanger them all by doing something she shouldn't do. He flipped the paper over and wrote out his thoughts on the back, before stashing it with her other writings in the bottom drawer in his desk.

Ginny puzzled over the piece of poetry in her hands and the note on the back written in a masculine hand. She marveled at the courage it took for the newfound family members to leave their home and face uncertain days. She prayed she hadn't made a mistake to take on the project of writing a musical.

Courage sometimes failed her. She navigated her world of classroom and church duties well, but often ducked out of new situations. Taking behind-the-scenes jobs and allowing others to stand in the spotlight came easily. Maybe that was why James found it effortless to claim her work as his own back in college. Well, that needed to be changed. She just hoped she wrote the right thing, something that would make a difference in someone's life.

Jezebel's soulful eyes looked up at Ginny's. The dog pushed in closer and woofed. Ginny grabbed both floppy ears and rubbed them between her hands and the side of the dog's face.

Jezebel leaped away just out of reach and then back, begging her owner to step away from her distractions and play.

"I can do this, Jez, I will write this play. I will chase this dream —and my silly pup."

After playing tag for a few minutes with the hound, she sat down at her computer and started typing. She made herself stay at the desk until her stiff bottom told her it was time to stop.

Sitting on the carriage seat for several days was taking a toll on Missy's bottom. She wondered if her aunt felt the same way, and yearned to tell George the time had come to find rest for the day. When they'd stopped for a picnic earlier in the day, Early's steps had seemed slower and stiffer. At least one other person suffered. She nudged her sleeping aunt, hoping she'd wake up and feel the same way.

Aunt 'Tilda's eyes squinted open and she stifled a yawn. "Did you need to take a necessary break, Melissa?"

"I thought you'd never ask. I would love to get out for a while and stretch my weary bones."

"You don't know what you're talking about, child, but it might be a good idea to take a break." Aunt 'Tilda patted her niece's arm and called out for George to stop.

"Yes, ma'am. Looks like there's a house just a ways up the road... It might be a good place to take care of your needs." George rattled the reins and the horses pulled the carriage up a slight rise toward a small white farm house.

As they reached the house, Aunt 'Tilda called out a greeting. A woman stepped onto her small porch and waved to them in welcome as they stepped from the carriage. Missy gazed at the small home and the nearby garden. A lone man rested on his hoe and waved a greeting before picking up a basket of produce and heading their way. She searched for slaves, but saw none. The life she knew focused on homes where slaves did all the work. The only person who seemed at home in this new situation was her aunt. 'Tilda and the woman chattered about vegetables and chickens as they walked toward the small porch. Early and George trailed behind Missy. She wondered if they were bewildered, too.

"We do all our own work here, young lady. The Good Lord gave us two hands to take care of ourselves and that's what we do —wouldn't have it any other way." The woman muttered something about slavery and looked away. "You can make use of the necessary and then be on your way." Her friendly manner fled.

Heat burned Missy's cheeks. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend. We're actually against slavery, too. We're on our way to..."

Aunt's elbow poked into Missy's side and stopped her mid-speech. "Please excuse my niece. She seems to have forgotten her manners. She's going to be working hard to learn about living a much simpler way of life in the very near future."

The woman nodded and led them to the outhouse where they each took a turn. Aunt 'Tilda resumed her conversation with the woman. Before their visit ended, she'd arranged to purchase items for their dinner. The woman grabbed a chicken and stepped to a nearby stump with an axe. The body of the chicken flopped around on the ground after a loud chop. Then their hostess took the beheaded fowl into her house for a few moments before bringing them their chicken.

Missy nearly lost the contents of her stomach when the grinning woman handed her the scalded chicken and showed her how to pull feathers from its dead body. 'Tilda said it would be good practice for being an independent woman. Missy's only thoughts focused on trying to keep her hands clean and unharmed. She asked Early for assistance, or at the least to find something to plug her nose, but 'Tilda refused to let her cousin help. Instead, her aunt sent Early away with George to collect more vegetables from the farmer's field. Her aunt helped the woman shell peas as Missy pulled limp feathers from the unfortunate bird. Shaking them off her damp fingers and into a bucket filled a good hour of her time. She was glad when the final feather fell into the bucket.

That evening, not far down the road from the farmer's home, they enjoyed roasted meat and vegetables cooked over an outdoor fire. The hard-earned meal filled their hungry stomachs. Missy's tired fingers held a chicken leg up toward the others in a mock salute.

A slight stab of guilt and worry filled Missy's conscience as she lowered the chicken to her mouth and savored the meat. She'd completed a small chore today. It would never compare to what Early had done for her throughout both their lives. Would she ever be able to do things without the help of others? Could Early ever forgive her?

That night, despite her concerns, an exhausted Missy fell into a deep sleep. The sounds of crickets chirping interrupted her slumber some time during the night. She and 'Tilda slept on slightly padded benches inside the carriage. She stretched and tried to find a more comfortable position. Peering out a window, she spotted where Early and George slept back to back on the old quilt, under a partly cloudy sky near the waning fire. She missed talking and sharing confidences with her cousin. Clouds covered the moon's shining light as the sound of a few splatters of rain whispered off leaves from a nearby tree. She needed to make things right.

A few days later, a man stood in the road and waved them toward his large home. Raindrops misted down on Early's bonnet. The head covering drooped around her face. She had hoped they would stop before it got worse.

"Are y'all looking for a place to stay tonight? I've got some perty nice rooms here at my inn. Your slaves can bed down in the stalls out back. I don't hold to having slaves on my place, but I ain't gonna put 'em out in the rain either." The innkeeper averted his eyes from Early and peered into the carriage window, where Missy sat with her aunt. "The missus has a good bed you two ladies can share. It's clean and what we got's real comfortable."

Early moaned in relief when Aunt 'Tilda gave George permission to head for the inn and barns.

After dropping their satchels on the porch, the innkeeper pointed Missy and 'Tilda toward the inside of the house. He led George and the horse-drawn carriage toward the barn. His personality transformed from hostile to friendly after his wife took the two women into the house. Early trailed along behind the men, listening to them talk about horses and puzzling at the change in mood.

"This little gal's a fine-looking mare." The older man rubbed his hand down the horse's face and pulled a treat from his pocket. She nickered and pushed against his side, begging for more. He laughed and obliged.

"She’s a good one. I'm glad the master chose her for our journey." George ran his arm down the side of the animal. Jealousy slithered into Early's heart. Why couldn't he show her some of that affection?

The man freed the mare from the leather that held her to the carriage and led her into a stall full of fresh hay. George stared as the man did his job.

"There’s some old quilts in the last stall if you want to make a bed for you and your woman."

She turned and looked at George. Would he speak for both of them? He clamped his mouth and gave no clue about his thoughts. Then the older man spoke again.

"It's a little late in the season, but I know a few things about freedom trails, 'iffin you are interested." He raised his eyebrows as he jabbed a piece of straw between his yellowed teeth.

"Really?" George’s one word reply brought Early to his side. She grabbed his arm.

"She'll do right by you, considering that you're her kin. I know from past experience that not everyone keeps their word to me." George pulled out of her grip and turned toward the man.

"But you are family now—my man. They're taking us nor..." Early gasped and covered her mouth before she let out any secrets.

"Interesting." The innkeeper moved closer. "You think your ladies would take on an extra man for a while?"

"I don't know." Early wondered how she'd had the courage to even consider the possibility.

"It might not be important, but I was in town the other day and saw a message that someone was looking for a slave couple traveling with two women and a perty brown mare."

"If you have someone looking for you, it might change how things look to have two men up top instead of a man and woman." He turned toward Early and studied her face. "Iffin you pulled your bonnet low and covered up good, you could pass for a fine woman inside a carriage with the other gals. Might want to change to a bigger carriage and a couple of sturdy geldings..."

"This mare is like family to me." George finally found his tongue as Early gasped.

"She's liking me perty good right now." The innkeeper scraped a brush across the mare's rump and she leaned into the man. "I see her worth. I'm looking to increase the quality of my herd of horses. I'd trade you a bigger carriage and a pair of strong work horses. You'd have a better chance at freedom and I'd take good care of your little mare, She'd be the queen of my stable."

"The choice isn't up to you two men. The horse belongs to Aunt Matilda." Early turned her back on the two horsemen and trudged toward the quilts in the last stall.

"That's true, little lady, but if I know my missus, she's already been talking to the ladies about your safety. I'm just trying to help by offering you some choices."