Chapter Fifteen

A week later, George picked up the bundle of food provided by the Quaker family and followed Early and Sheba out into a starlit night. It felt good to breathe fresh air again and he filled his lungs up without having to fight a cough. The drinking gourd sparkled clearly in the moonlit sky as they stepped down a northbound path. This time they followed a conductor known to the Quaker family. He would take them to the next station along the Underground Railroad. Trust flooded George's thoughts as he acknowledged that God could use others to help him on the trek to freedom. Even if they never made their earthly destination, heaven waited.

They trudged through the night to the sound of rustling leaves that covered the ground. The turning leaves, like those that now flittered down, brushing shoulders and then feet, signaled that cooler weather had become part of their trek. Sheba twirled with the leaves as dawn began to break. Her energy overflowed, unlike her newly adopted parents. Their leader waved his hands to quiet the girl and pointed them to a dense grove of trees, indicating by actions that they should take their rest.

His wife sighed as she lowered herself to the ground next to the girl. George fought a lingering urge to cough as he lay back on the leafy ground next to his family. Early's childhood blanket stretched to cover them all as exhaustion laid claim to his body.

Hours later, his eyes sprang open. The musty air was filled with the familiar scent of horse sweat. He missed caring for a horse, but tonight's smell only brought fear. The sound of leaves crushing beneath clomping horseshoes filled his ears. George tightened his fists. They'd come too far to be found. He had fought before on this journey, and he could do it again. The urge to cough warred with the compulsion to protect. His eyes watered in protest. He would not go willingly. He needed to defend his family, his wife and child. Protect us all, Dear Lord.

His dread rose and then faded, as silently as the forest surrounding him. The sounds of the single horse and rider grew fainter. No howling hounds followed the horseman. Tension eased out of his body. Early snuggled closer and gently snored, unaware of the danger that had come and gone. He unclenched his jaw. Someone nearby blew out a stream of air and a quiet, "Praise the Lord."

A man snickered and whispered, "That shore was close. Good thing we're all covered in leaves."

George opened his eyes for the first time since he'd heard the horse. Sure enough, a shadowed blanket of red and yellow leaves covered the group. God's hand had provided once again. George laid his arm across Early and filled his mind with prayers of praise. As sleep began to claim his consciousness, he felt a soothing peace flow into his soul and released a hushed, "Amen." Inwardly, he shouted, hallelujah.

The canal boat rang with the cries of a woman giving birth. Missy's work worn hands ached as she labored over laundry, which the woman had deserted when the child had signaled its impending arrival. Her Bible studies told her that Eve's choices made the laboring process painful. Missy had never been around a birthing mother before, and a shadow of guilt fluttered through her mind. Had the pain of her own birth killed the mother she'd never known?

"I wonder if I'm gettin' a brother or a sister this time. I sure hope it lives. Ma's lost a few that didn't make it this far." Sunshine's usually bright demeanor faded to worry as she twisted rinse water from a faded dress.

"I'm praying for your mother and the child." Missy closed her eyes and lifted her petition. Another cry rang from the captain's tiny room at the back of the boat. She hoped Aunt 'Tilda's hands would be able to work a miracle. The moans kept getting closer together.

Water flew into the praying woman's face. Missy gasped as a smile returned to Sunshine's face.

"Sorry, I was shakin' all the water out for ya. At least Ma won't have to worry about the laundry for a while." The youngster laid the dripping garment over the edge of a nearby box of goods the boat transported. Thankfully, the boat no longer transported a large number of passengers like the men who'd departed at the last stop. The master at that lock had loaded them down with crated goods headed for Toledo.

She reached for another dripping article of clothing and flapped it in the air. The blessed sound of silence filled their ears.

A loud waaaah shattered the moment of peace. Aunt 'Tilda gave a shout. "It's a healthy boy!" Sunshine and Missy grabbed hands and skipped around the tub of laundry.

"I reckon Pa will be happy to finally get him a boy." They listened to the captain call out to his new mule tender, "Stop the mules." Once they halted, he left his post of guiding the tiller and stepped into the cabin to see his wife and baby.

The mother's laughter echoed from the cabin as Aunt 'Tilda exited and dumped bloody rags into the vat of soapy water.

"I haven't complained so far." She wrinkled her nose as she looked at the red stains spreading across her once clean water. "I'm not so sure I would ever want to be a mother after hearing the captain's wife complaining all day about her pains."

Missy stepped into the small space. She reached out a tentative hand and touched the downy hair of the newborn babe.

The mother smiled at her child, hugging the little one tightly to her breast. "He shore is a cute one. I'm thinking he's gonna look a lot like his pa."

The captain let out a whoop, kissed his wife, and returned to steering the boat. Missy followed the man out and returned to her chore. A grin spread wide across the captain's face as he shouted, "We have a boy. Let's get those mules moving, Johnson."

The man he'd temporarily hired to handle the mules shook their reins and the boat resumed its journey along the waterway. The jingle of harnesses and clomp of feet filled the air. Missy wiped her forehead and bent over the tub of laundry once again. That baby sure was cute, but his ma would be tied to him for a long time, between feeding and changing his soiled clothes. Having a baby could wait a long time. Missy decided she liked being her own woman.

The rules and expectations of the plantation felt like ties Missy had finally freed herself from. Her arms were growing stronger from all the work she'd been doing. She enjoyed having control of her life for a change. Earning her own way on this journey and learning how to do everyday chores filled her with pride. She never would have learned how to do all this on the plantation. Early would be proud of her cousin and former mistress. She closed her eyes, avoiding the sight of blood, and scrubbed the soiled fabric. The sight of blood brought her thoughts to Papa's blood-filled handkerchief after one of his coughing bouts. She wondered if he still lived and if he would be proud to know his daughter could take care of herself. Her stepmother might faint at the sight of Missy's work-worn hands.

She stood and dumped the tub of dirty water all by herself. With little effort, she filled it with clean rinse water and renewed her efforts on the bloody material. Little Elsbeth Sunshine left the baby's side and returned to Missy's side to help wring out the laundry.

Amanda Jones De Hart Hollings

Hollings Plantation

Dear Mrs. Mary Etta Woodson,

It is with deep regrets that I am informing you of the passing of my husband and your brother, Arthur Hollings. He bequeathed his property into the capable care of my son and me. His daughter Melissa seems to have left us on a jaunt with her Aunt Matilda. We are unable to locate her or the two slaves they took with them. If they show up at your home, please let Melissa know that Sidney is heartsick. He longs to comfort her so she can join him as wife and mistress of the plantation. He sends his apologies for being over enthusiastic about his feelings for your niece. Since Arthur left his holdings to us, a wedding would be the proper way to provide a home for the young woman.

Please inform her that she must return the slaves they took from us. It would appear that their papers are missing from the household files. I am sure Melissa knows where they are. We've been posting advertisements throughout the southern states trying to locate my dear stepdaughter in order to inform her of the loss of her father. Let us know if you hear of her whereabouts.

Sincerely,

Amanda

Woodson House

Dear Amanda,

Thank you for letting me know about Arthur going on to his heavenly reward. I mourn the passing of my dear brother. I heard he suffered his last few years with a cough. I only wish he hadn't become addicted to his pipe. At least he knew the Lord and I can only assume that he is now resting in the arms of our Savior.

My sister and niece have not found their way to Woodson House, but I will let them know of his passing if they do stop by for a visit. I will retain your letter and a copy of this one so they are witness to my reply. I pray that you will take good care of my childhood home and those who live and work there. Maybe someday you will consider releasing those held in bondage. The slaves of the Bible only served seven years. Releasing your faithful servants or hiring them back as paid workers would be something Arthur might have come to consider one day. The birth of a new era will soon be upon us all.

Sincerely,

Mary Etta Hollings Woodson

Missy leaned the baby across her shoulder and gently patted the infant's back. A whimper, a burp, a trickle of something wet on her chest, and a warm cascade down her back happened in a quick sequence. The smell of soured milk and urine filled the air as she lifted the child away. The tiny boy grinned and then started to squirm in his wet clothing. His lips pinched together as he let the world know he needed a change.

Sharon, the captain's wife, laughed from her perch at the back of the boat. "I'd help you, but since Johnson moved on to another job, I've got a ship to steer."

"Maybe I should learn how to steer your boat. I don't think I'm cut out to be a nanny or a mother." Missy grabbed a rag and toweled off the front and shoulder of the dress she wore.

Sharon had shared the patched dress with her temporary nanny when they accepted the ride north on the boat. Switching the frock out every few days with the dress she'd worn when they boarded had worked until today. Her own dress from home still dripped from a fresh washing as it lay draped across cargo boxes. Clouds filled the skies. Hopes of it drying out soon were tiny, like the little boy whose volume increased with each clomp of mule hooves.

Sunshine laid a blanket on one of the boxes and took little Noah from Missy's arms. "Looks like you need someone who knows how to take care of you." She cooed to the child and expertly took care of his needs.

Aunt 'Tilda snickered at the scene as she peeled potatoes for the rabbit stew simmering on the boat's iron stove. The captain provided the meat by hunting early this morning. He arose before the others started their day. Watching the skinning and cutting process made Missy want to skip eating their meal, but her growling stomach told her she wouldn't have much choice at dinner time.

Missy stood and moved to the side of the boat. She'd learned a few things on this trip: mending, cooking, and even some basic housekeeping skills. Some appealed to her while others repulsed her. Why did she still feel so useless? Would she ever measure up? Even Sunshine had more ability to take care of the child than she did. Did becoming a self-reliant person come naturally? She went to the bench where she stored her writing supplies and pulled out her journal.

I have learned how to do many everyday chores, but often doubt my ability to completely rely on myself. Early helped me for most of my life. I'm glad she will have her freedom. Even in that, I am helpless to do any more than pray for her safety. My aunt now helps when she can, or wants to do so. I think she is pushing this little bird out of the nest little by little so that I can be on my own.

Today I failed miserably as a mother's helper. I'm not sure if I will ever want to bear a child after seeing the pain the mother went through and the daily mess the babe makes. He does have a sweet smile though and his presence fills this little family with happiness. Maybe someday I will change my mind, once I am more skilled and settled.

Early hinted that George wanted to wait for children until they were free. I am beginning to see his wisdom. Children need time and love. They don't need the burden of slavery hanging over their parents' heads.

Bless the child afloat in this realm.

Bless the hands that guide the helm,

Of boats which bear them cross the waves.

Protect them all both free or slaves.

Guide the hands that raise each child,

Make them strong and undefiled.

May parents show they love each life,

And show their care through joy and strife.

Sheba skipped to George's side and took his hand in hers. "I think you're going to be a good daddy for me." Her feet kicked leaves into the air as moonlight streamed through bare trees.

George laughed at her infectious joy. "Why do you think that?" Pride and growing love for the child filled his chest as he looked down at her. The trust he saw in her eyes made him want to cry, something he hadn't done in a long time.

"When you were sick, I prayed if you were going to be a good daddy, then God would let you live."

"Praise the Lord." He looked up at the glittering North Star. "I'm glad He let me live. I never thought being a father would be in God's plans for me, but I guess I needed you to show me how to take care of a child."

"So now that you know all about being a father, maybe you and Mama Early should get me a sister or a brother."

He swallowed and thought about telling her that he had no plans to fulfill her wish anytime soon. Her face looked so hopeful that he only nodded. "Maybe someday, sweetie. For now, you are all we need. We need some guidance about being parents to you." He turned to see tears dripping down Early's cheeks as she trudged along behind them. Hoping to cheer them all up, he pulled the compass from his pocket.

"It has a spinner that always points north." He held it out for her to see. The pointer bobbled and then settled into place. "This end points north toward that big star, the one you see just off the end of the drinking gourd in the sky."

Early and Sheba both peered at the small compass. Their shoulders pressed into his sides, warming his body and soul as chilly air surrounded them. "This little piece is an amazing guide. I don't know who thought of putting this together. But I do know God is our compass and He brought the three of us together to be a family."

Missy's legs wobbled as she left her temporary water-based home and walked a few steps on solid ground. She turned and waved to the captain's family. It seemed like she'd been part of their family forever. They'd become close as they taught her more about living a life without relying on a servant. Learning to sew, cook, clean, and take care of the baby helped her develop skills that would last a lifetime. She'd even taken a turn successfully guiding the tiller of the canal-bound vessel.

Sunshine yelled her good-byes from the boat as she jumped from one crate to another. The captain stood near his mules, brushing their coats, and doffed his hat. His wife, Sharon, stood at the tiller, ready to guide the boat down the canal. Her hand waved to the departing women. Their baby slept in a basket not far from his sister's gyrating body.

"Good-bye, friends!" Missy paused and watched the canal boat resume its trip toward Toledo. She moved her satchel from one hand to the other. "I will miss them."

"I will, too." Aunt 'Tilda stepped up the slight incline and headed toward a path running along a rippling creek. In the distance a church bell pealed out a call to worship. "I'm looking forward to seeing the insides of a church again. I doubt we'll make it in time for this week's preaching, but we should be around for the next service." 'Tilda's steps quickened as they walked the path toward a small village.

"I wonder if Early and George made it to Forest Glen ahead of us." Missy's concern grew for her friend as she contemplated walking the whole way they had traveled on the water.

"Their journey will be much longer and tiring than ours. It may take them more weeks than we'd care to think about. We can only pray..." Aunt 'Tilda paused and looked around at the land. "Nice flat land for farming. I'll have to teach you how to grow your own food up here."

Missy looked at the dark earth near their feet. "I'm going to miss seeing red soil. Do you think this black dirt will grow enough to support us?" She plodded along behind her aunt as they resumed their trek. It looked like she had another chore to learn.

"According to Mary Etta, the fields here are very fertile. The growing season is a little shorter, but the abundance in her garden makes up for the lack of familiar ground."

Silence filled the air while they trudged along next to the creek. Missy groaned. Her shoes pinched tighter around her tired feet. "How much longer until we reach Woodson House?"

"My dear niece, I have never been there before. I've only read about it in letters. The creek will lead us into a ravine and Woodson House will sit high on the hill. Mary Etta told me it will resemble your old home, just much smaller in size. Mr. Woodson wanted to make my sister happy by giving her a home she would adore. They were deeply in love when he carried her away to the North."

"Think of your cousin Early. She must walk the whole way here from southern Ohio. Imagine how her feet are feeling right now."

"I'm sorry about complaining. I wonder if Early and George's love will one day sweep them away to happiness." Missy frowned and looked sideways at her aunt. "Did we make a mistake forcing them into marriage?"

Aunt 'Tilda stepped to the side of the path and picked up a stick to steady her steps as they traveled over the rutted ground. "From what I saw when we traveled together, I believe we made the right decision."

Missy nodded and tried to not think about the pain each step caused. Early had always been a strong person, but like her mistress rarely walked long distances. Did she even have any leather left in the shoes she'd worn when they parted? As they hiked along, the flat ground gave way to small rises and then taller hills surrounded the creek.

"Look! I believe we are in the right place." Aunt pointed to a vaguely familiar house that sat straight up the hill above them. All they had to do now was climb the narrow trail that meandered upward. By the time they reached the top, Missy was panting. Even her hearty aunt puffed in her breaths and paused to stretch her back. As they approached the house, Missy noticed a metal W nailed to the chimney that flanked the side of the house. Home at last, or at least home to her Aunt Mary Etta's Woodson House.

The bells from the church pealed again. Worship must be over for the attendees. Missy worshipped in her own heart though, thanking God for His mercies during their travels. The two women sat down on the steps leading to the front porch of Woodson House. Aunt 'Tilda grabbed her hands and prayed a prayer of thanksgiving out loud. Birds chirped around them and a cool breeze blew up from the creek below. A few churchgoers waved curious greetings and stopped to welcome the travelers. It wasn't hard for them to recognize Mary Etta when she rushed to greet them. She looked like an older version of her sister Matilda.

After holding each of them close, Mary Etta held them at arm's length. "Welcome, my weary travelers. I'm so glad that you made it safely." She motioned for them to move up the porch. "I recently got your letter about having to split up from your friends. Do you have any bags that my dear husband needs to carry in?"

Missy held up her writing satchel. "Only one bag. Robbers took everything else. We were lucky—-no, we were more than lucky, the Lord blessed us when we found a canal boat captain who allowed us to work for our ride. We left the captain, his wife, and two children on their boat earlier this morning."

"I'm looking forward to hearing all about your travels. First, let's get you settled inside. I'm sure you are exhausted and hungry."

Missy followed her aunts into the house. The comforts of home surrounded her. Everything was perfect. She only hoped Early and George were nearing the end of their journey.

Later that afternoon, Samuel made his way down Main Street and headed toward his aunt and uncle's home. News of the arrival of his Aunt Mary Etta's Southern relatives quickly traveled down the town's gossip line. The information reached his ears as he strolled around town after morning worship. He'd gone home to his lonely table for a cold meal, figuring the ladies needed time to catch up before he blustered his way in to renew an acquaintance with the younger woman. In some ways, he dreaded meeting her again. Maybe her convictions on paper were different from real life. The bubble swirling in his chest told him he feared liking her more than he wanted to acknowledge. Still, good manners dictated that he needed to make a visit to welcome his aunt's relatives to town.

He paused at the door and tapped lightly before letting himself in through the doorway that always welcomed him into his relative's home. "Hello, everyone."

"Welcome, Samuel. I'm sure you remember your cousin, Melissa, and this is my sister, Matilda." Aunt Mary Etta and the other women rose as he neared their chairs.

Samuel bowed to the older woman and held her hand for a moment before he turned to look into Missy's hazel eyes. His breath caught. Her sweet smile pulled at his broken heart strings, strings he had no desire to ever repair. He squashed his reaction by giving the young woman a stiff nod and quick hand clasp.

A puzzled look crossed her face before she settled into her chair and pulled a worn satchel into her lap. "I'm glad you could use my words for the Cause. I wrote more poems as we traveled, if you want to take a look at them." Her hesitant smile spoke only of wanting to use her poetry to help others.

"I would." Good, she wanted to talk business. This he could handle. He took the stack of papers she pulled from her case and leaned back in his chair to read through their lyrical messages. Moments later, he looked up from his reading. "These poems will work well. I see one that will be perfect for the next edition. Do you still want to use a pen name?"

Her eyes seemed to brighten as she declared, "I am not the fearful person I used to be. I would be proud to have my real name published with my poems."

"Good for you, cousin, I will make sure your name appears." Addressing her by the family title eased the discomfort he felt when he first entered the room. Thinking of her as a cousin put a restraint on his emotions and released him to talk business with her. Before long, conversation swung from one person to another as they discussed everything from the weather to the horrors of slavery.

Missy picked up a copy of The Gazette that lay on a nearby table. "Samuel, would it be too much trouble to find past copies of the paper with my poems? I'd like to keep them with the journal I wrote during my travels. Maybe one day someone will find my thoughts interesting."

"I'd be glad to get you copies. I usually try to keep several extras each week for my own records. You could stop by the print shop on Monday. I'd be happy to show you the press." He closed his mouth abruptly, realizing he'd offered to have a private meeting with her. That would never do. He glanced at the two aunts looking his way with scheming eyes. "Please bring your aunts with you. I wouldn't want anyone to think we were conducting anything other than business."

"We can be friends and workers for the Cause. I have no other expectations. I'm enjoying learning how to take care of myself." She stood and headed toward the kitchen. "Would anyone like me to get them something to drink? I would be glad to serve you."

He gaped as she deftly served everyone cookies and tea. She had definitely changed from the helpless girl he'd met at the wedding reception many months ago. He liked the change, but knew she'd never measure up to his late wife.

As he walked home, he stopped by Rebecca's grave and touched her cold memorial stone. He needed the reminder of what losing a marriage partner did to a person's heart. He would make room for his cousin's friendship, but he would not open his mind to the fact that she bore no blood relation other than through the marriage of his uncle to her aunt. After visiting the cemetery, he continued his restless steps to the edge of the forest. Maybe he'd spot a traveler in need of safety.