Daybreak shone through the cedar branches when Beth and Joanie climbed out of the bushes. Dusting off the seats of their pants, the two sisters set off at a slow but steady pace and didn’t stop until they came to a long line of once-groomed hedges. Parting the greenery, Beth’s eyes scanned the sight before her. A dilapidated yet stately three-story brick dwelling on the other side appeared to be occupied. A certain beauty shown through its neglected exterior. Honeysuckle twined around wide white pillars that led to a belfry, where a bell tolled. Listening to the lovely sound, Beth counted the number of peals. Six. Overhead, chirruping birds flittered in and out of overhead roosts. Her gaze found the small plaque near the door: Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton Abbey.
“What is it?” Beth asked. She had never stepped foot off the plantation, so every new sight was met with wonder and trepidation.
Peering over her shoulder, Joanie whispered, “It’s a convent.”
“A what?”
“A convent. I’ve seen pictures of them.”
“Who lives here?”
“Sisters.”
Beth turned slightly to face her. “How many sisters, and what family do they come from?”
“Not like us,” Joanie said, laughing softly. “They’re nuns. Religious folk.”
Religion. Beth didn’t know anything about religion. She’d heard the field hands praying to God and singing, but she’d never understood why they took the time to talk to somebody they couldn’t see. Some put a lot of store in God, but if there was such a being, Beth hadn’t met Him. She thought their appeals sounded pretty silly, and when Walt caught Joanie praying she had felt the sting of a whip across her back.
“Do you think they will help us?” She knew Walt and Bear wouldn’t be far behind. If they didn’t find shelter quickly, the men would likely overtake them again.
“Perhaps.” Biting her lower lip, Joanie kept close watch over her shoulder. “Maybe if we hide long enough, the soldiers will catch up with us.”
“Don’t be silly.” Beth’s eyes searched the tall, elegant mansion. The structure towered over the run-down outbuildings. “The solders aren’t coming to our rescue, Joanie. They are probably glad to be free of us.”
“But they said they would take us—”
Beth turned to her sister. “They’re not coming to save us a second time. We’re strangers—women strangers in need—and those men are on their way home. Why would they waste more time rescuing us from a hateful uncle and cousin yet again?”
“I thought…they seemed so caring…”
“Caring.” Beth turned again to peer through the hedge, where the faint scent of frying meat caught her awareness. Her stomach rumbled. How long had it been since she or Joanie had anything to eat? It was yesterday’s afternoon meal, and her strength was drained.
Casting another wary glance over her shoulder, Joanie whispered, “We have to do something.”
Hoofbeats sounded in the distance. Beth wasn’t fool enough to think Walt and Bear wouldn’t search the area thoroughly. Grabbing Joanie’s hand, she moved forward. Crossing the yard, she led the way to the back of the house, searching for an entrance. Perhaps some kind soul would take pity on them and offer a hot meal. “Let’s go.”
Crouching, they moved quickly across the expanse and tapped lightly at a large wooden door.
“What do we say?” Joanie’s eyes rounded. “They’ll want to know who we are and why we’re out so early in the morning.” The sun was just peeking through the trees, spreading rays of light across the dew-soaked grass.
“Let me do the talking. Make yourself presentable.” They licked their fingers to smooth their hair, and then they straightened their masculine attire. At least yesterday’s bath made them somewhat presentable.
The heavy door swung open, and Beth met a pair of friendly eyes. Golden, like an old tomcat they once had, but with the most pleasant warmth in their depths. The rotund figure dressed in black offered them a quick smile. “Yes?” A large gold cross hung around her neck. Beth focused on the object, speechless. She’d never seen such a sight.
Joanie found her voice first. “We’re terribly sorry to call so early, but we are very hungry and thirsty—”
The door swung open wider. “Welcome!”
Still without her tongue, Beth followed Joanie into a massive kitchen that smelled of frying bacon and warm bread.
Closing the door, the woman locked it and then turned, smiling. “Please have a seat at our table.”
Beth realized then that they weren’t alone. She lifted her eyes to see a large oblong table with a dozen or more elderly ladies in black staring at them. Her heart thumped. The woman who had opened the door appeared to be the youngest of the bunch. The others looked to be very old.
Joanie reached for her hand and led her around the massive table to a spot with two empty seats. Smiling, she made the introductions. “I’m Joanie, and this is my sister, Beth.”
“Joanie. Beth.” Words of recognition were softly murmured.
An austere-looking woman seated at the head of the table noted, “We are pleased God has sent you to join us. We were just about to give thanks.”
Nodding, Beth still couldn’t speak. Her surroundings were almost as frightening as the knowledge that somewhere nearby Bear and Walt searched for them. She pictured their spiteful eyes scanning the nearby woods as though they were hunting prey.
The women bowed their heads. Joanie, and then Beth, followed.
“Bless, O Lord, this food. For Thy name’s sake, grant that all who partake of it may obtain health of body and safety of soul through Christ our Lord. Amen.”
Safety of soul? Beth would have to ponder that one. After-making the sign of the cross, the women unfolded their napkins.
The leader, whom the rest called “Reverend Mother,” reached for a large bowl of scrambled eggs and passed it to the guests first. “Please. Eat.”
Exhausted and hungry, Beth accepted the warm bowl. The women were very kind and gentle with their guests. One poured hot tea while another passed a plate of thick ham slices. When Beth realized she was eating like a ravenous animal, she purposely slowed her fork.
Shortly after the dishes were cleared, a bell tolled. Rising, the women shuffled off—all but the friendly one who had opened the door.
“I’m Sister Mary Margaret.” Pausing in the doorway, she explained over the tolling bell, “It is prayer time.”
Nodding, Beth stood beside Joanie, uncertain as to what they should do. No questions had been asked about their unexpected appearance, and neither Beth nor Joanie had offered any explanations. Now what? Bear and Walt were surely close by. It wasn’t safe to go outside just yet.
The nun smiled. “If you like, you may wait in the library.” A giggle escaped her. “It’s very quiet and comfy there.”
Silently, Beth took her sister’s hand and followed the nun to a shelf-lined room. Well-worn sofas, a multitude of reading material, and comfortable overstuffed chairs welcomed the weary travelers. Morning sunlight poured through a bank of eastward-facing windows. A birdcage contained two lively parakeets that were splashing in their water dish during their morning ritual. The room looked safe; a peaceful haven.
“When we finish, I’ll bring you a fresh pot of tea.” The sister stifled another giggle and left in a soft rustling of black.
Hesitantly stepping to the birdcage, Beth studied the little feathered creatures. “Isn’t this the strangest thing you’ve ever seen?”
“Birds in a cage.” Joanie nodded, her eyes roaming the friendly room. “I didn’t know there were this many books in the whole world.”
Beth’s heart broke. She’d begged to learn how to read and write, but Walt had forbidden it. Ma had secretly taught Joanie when she was sick at home, but Beth was always in the cotton fields.
“You don’t need to know nothing but how to pick cotton,” he’d said. “Don’t need no fancy learning to put fanciful ideas in your head.”
Fancy learning wasn’t her intent. She just wanted to pick up a book and know what the letters said.
Joanie sank to a sofa, coughing.
The long night had been exhausting, and though grateful for the escape and refuge, the strange surroundings added to the feeling of nearly being overwhelmed. Beth eased over and dropped onto the seat beside her. She was bone tired. If she could just close her eyes a few moments, she was sure her powers of reasoning would return. Joanie scooted closer, resting her head on Beth’s shoulder. The plan had worked. They were free. All she had to do now was get Joanie medical help—and keep out of Walt’s clutches.
“What’s next?” Joanie asked.
“We do what we planned. We’ll sleep in barns during the night and travel during the day. If we keep to ourselves, we’ll not be noticed.”
“But we have very little money. And Trella? What will she do?” Joanie reached down to pull her Bible out of her knapsack. The years had left the book worn and ragged.
“She’ll follow the plan. I’m sure the soldiers will keep their word and see her safely to the next town. Once she’s there she will have to find work and make a life for herself and her baby. We have to take things one day at a time and stick with the plan, Joanie. We can’t be fainthearted now.”
Beth refused to spend the remainder of her life ruled by a spiteful uncle. Though last night Joanie had considered admitting defeat and going back with them, in the light of day with a full stomach Beth felt confident that in the end she was smarter than him. She could escape his tyranny, and that was all that mattered. Eventually he would give up the search, assuming they were helpless females who would be the cause of their own deaths.
He’d be wrong.
Joanie’s drowsy voice broke into her thoughts. “I wish we could have stayed with the soldiers. Pierce and Gray Eagle are kind—”
“They are men. There’s no such thing as kind men. How many times do I have to remind you?”
“I know, but actually, those men are good. If we could have stayed with them, I’m sure we would have been safe.”
“Maybe. Or perhaps they were deceiving us.” Yes. Deceiving them. That was the more likely case. All three soldiers had been courteous, much as Beth hated to acknowledge it, but they could have planned on taking the women on up the road and then turning on them—as men did—doing unspeakable acts. She and Joanie were better off now. They were on their own.
“Joanie, you need to pray.”
A part of Beth knew they needed Joanie’s faith right about now. Especially in light of her own doubts that lingered on the edges of her bravado. It couldn’t hurt to put in a word for Trella too.
“You always say it’s a waste—”
“It’s not for me. It’s for you and Trella. I can take care of myself.”
Joanie disagreed with that last part but didn’t say anything about it. “Do you think Trella is in real danger? Would Uncle Walt spend a lot of time looking for her?”
“I doubt it. What’s another slave to him? Eventually he’ll be forced to go back to his own doings.”
“You don’t really think he’d make you marry Bear.”
Beth shivered at the unthinkable thought. “I don’t know what he’s capable of doing.” Her uncle’s spitefulness had no limits that she could discern. She wouldn’t put anything past him. That was another reason why she didn’t intend to hang around. Lately Bear had been looking at her extra long, skimming her slim figure and admiring her waist-length golden hair.
Joanie’s eyelids were drooping. “I’m so tired.”
“Rest. I’ll keep watch.”
“I love you, Beth.” Joanie set her Bible on the floor. “I’ll close my eyes for just a moment. Then I’ll keep watch and let you sleep.”
Beth cradled her sister in the quaint room with the strange birds in the wire cage. The little creatures hopped back and forth, one landing on a swing. Feathers fluffed as the bird drank in the morning sunlight.
This was the strangest place she’d ever been—but then, she hadn’t been anywhere. She knew a big world existed outside the plantation’s perimeter, but what that meant she didn’t know. Yet she was willing to face the unknown. If it snatched her life, so be it. It would be a life given in search of freedom, and that couldn’t be so bad.
Perhaps the kind sisters would permit them to stay until evening. They could steal away before the moon came up, keep to the woods, and avoid being seen. If they traveled this way for the next few days, they could safely escape Walt and Bear…
The parakeets chirped. Warm sun shone through the windows. Ham and eggs rested easy in her full stomach.
Life was going to be better. Beth felt it in her bones.
Much better. And if God did exist, as Joanie and so many of the pickers declared, and He knew the hearts of all men, then He would help and not constantly hinder them.