It was nearly dusk when Matthew knocked on their door. Olivia opened the door, but Matthew looked past her and addressed Crystal. “Come stroll with me for a while. There’s a park across the street; we’ll be back in time for dinner.”
Olivia watched the trapped expression grow on Crystal’s face as she looked from Olivia to Matthew. While she hesitated, Olivia opened her mouth to speak. She saw Matthew’s bleak face. “Oh, Crystal, do walk. It will be good for you.”
Crystal stood motionless, the hurt in her eyes equaling the pain in Matthew’s. “Go, both of you—at least part friends.” Impatiently Olivia gave Crystal a gentle push. The two of them walked out the front door of the hotel after promising Olivia that they’d be back in time to eat.
As dinnertime approached, Olivia paced the lobby waiting for Matthew and Crystal to return. The words Alex had said kept running through her mind. Oh, that she knew she were! “Why does that phrase come back to haunt me?”
Matthew and Crystal hurried through the entrance. Just a moment before Matthew released her arm, Olivia saw their faces and had to turn away. The pain she felt must not show.
As they crossed the lobby to join her, she found herself questioning her reaction. Was it pity, or a hidden envy?
The three of them walked together over to a dining table and sat down. Olivia smiled at them and said, “It must have been a beautiful walk; you both look much more content with the world.”
“It was a wonderful walk,” Matthew murmured, seemingly absorbed in the menu.
Hastily Crystal said, “Preferable to promenading the same two square feet of deck.” Quickly she flipped the menu open and added, “What are you going to have for dinner, Olivia?”
****
As Olivia finished her hair and turned from the mirror, Crystal said, “I don’t believe I will go down for breakfast with you. I just don’t seem to want any this morning. Will you please go without me?” She added, “But come up here before you make travel arrangements.”
Without waiting for an answer, she turned away. Olivia shrugged and said, “As you wish. I’ll hurry, I didn’t realize it was so late. I think I’m beginning to be a sleepyhead.”
Olivia finished her breakfast, eyed the croissant and considered taking it to her friend. “Crystal, you said no,” she murmured. “I’ll refrain, and you can be angry at my heartlessness.”
With a teasing smile still on her face, she returned to her room. A frown replaced the smile when she opened the door. Crystal’s belongings were no longer spread across the room. Her valise was missing, and a note was propped against Olivia’s case. It was from Matthew, and Crystal had scrawled a sentence across the bottom: Please don’t be angry with me.
Olivia read the lines in Matthew’s hand. Truly we are sorry for leaving this way, but it seems best, quickly before we manage to talk ourselves into being logical and levelheaded. At least the parents cannot say we are partial even to you. Crystal and I will be married this morning. By the time you have decided which steamboat we are on, we will have departed for New Orleans. Naturally we will be back; we’ve left unfinished business here.
Slowly folding the paper, Olivia whispered, “Joseph is the unfinished business. Could she possibly have told Matthew about him?”
For a time, Olivia paced the room. “They’re insane—don’t they know the problems they have created?” Finally with a sigh, she rubbed her forehead wearily and cried, “What can I do? How can I go home? It would have been bad enough to face the parents with a clear conscience, but this is beyond my ability to handle.”
As she stood in the middle of the floor, she heard a steamboat’s whistle. It was a shrill, defiant blast, and it made her think of Alex and the Golden Awl. She whirled and dashed to the window, hoping for a glimpse of the boat.
“Impossible!” she whispered. “This room is on the second floor and too far from the river. Still, it could have been the Awl’s whistle. It’s past noon now, time for him to be gone.”
The thought stabbed her with loneliness, and she contemplated the emotion with a lump in her throat. Closing her eyes, she imagined Alex standing at the wheel of the Awl. His feet would be braced against the movement of the boat and he would be singing that silly ditty.
As she paced the room she thought of the song and began to sing softly. “‘Gin a body kiss a body, Need a body cry?’”
Curling up in the chair beside the window, she thought about Alex. “Alexander Duncan, you are a strange man, with your golden earring and Golden Awl. I wish I could understand why you are as you are. Why did you kiss me that night in Boston? Why have you treated me like a pesky sister now, and why did you give me a Bible? Of all of the inelegant gifts a man would give, that is the most—”
The thought was born whole in her mind, and she contemplated it with trembling excitement as she admitted, “There’s no reason to go home now. No more than Matthew am I obligated to carry the news home to the parents. He follows his pleasure; I shall follow mine.”
****
The thought seemed right and good, and it remained so until the stagecoach deposited Olivia in front of the very dress shop where she, Crystal, and Amelia had purchased their new wardrobes. Now she looked down at her travel-stained blue serge and muttered, “Olivia, what do you do now?”
She turned on the boardwalk, looked at the crust of dirty snow, and picked up her valise. “Hack, ma’am?”
He was a fresh-faced lad with big eyes and a battered wagon. “Yes, please. Do you know where the Coopers live?”
“Amos Cooper?” he nodded. “Let me get your bag.”
The ride to the Coopers’ farm was familiar, and when they arrived Olivia noticed that the house was circled with a rim of drifted snow; in the barren landscape not a vestige of color remained, but to Olivia it seemed warm and peaceful. She was paying the lad when Sadie Cooper came down the steps. Her eyes were full of concern, but she smiled and picked up the valise.
Inside Olivia avoided Sadie’s probing look. “I’ve come back. May I stay?”
“Welcome, thou are. Come.” Olivia took the valise and followed Sadie up the stairs. In her old room, with Amelia’s belongings still spread across the bed, Olivia faced Sadie and said, “I have an idea you won’t ask questions, but I must tell you. As planned, Crystal and I left the boat in Cincinnati. But before we could make arrangements to travel home, Crystal and Matthew left me. There was a note saying they were being married and would travel without me.”
Sadie wrapped her ample arms around Olivia, “Abandoned! Tut, there child, it’s good thee came back.” Olivia was surprised by the comfort in the soft shoulder. Her tears made puddles on it.
When she backed away she was able to laugh as she dabbed at her eyes. “I didn’t expect to be such a baby about this all. Do you mind? When I started thinking, this place seemed more appealing than going home. I’ll do all I can to help.”
“We’ll find a place for you. Now, supper is nearly ready. You take care of your valise and then come down.”
Olivia thought about the last time she was in the same bedroom as she arranged her belongings. She had just finished when Amelia came into the room. She stopped; touching her throat, she slowly whispered, “Has something happened?”
“Oh, Amelia—” She shook her head. “No. I didn’t mean to alarm you. There hasn’t been an accident.”
“Then why have you returned? I didn’t see the boat.”
“I, I’m not certain why I came back; it just seemed to be the thing to do. Crystal and Matthew eloped.”
Amelia’s eyes widened. “But you can’t elope when you’ve nothing to elope from.”
“Well, I guess it was from me.”
“Left you alone? Where was Alex?”
“I suppose he went on. I wonder if Matthew told him about his intentions?”
Amelia shrugged. “Well, that’s a strange state of affairs.” She slanted a curious glance at Olivia. “I’d have expected you to go home.”
“Mostly I didn’t want to face my parents with the news, and in addition, I doubt that they will be very understanding about our leaving in the first place.”
Amelia grinned. “I’ve wondered. You just took off?”
“It was something like that.” Amelia’s eyes sparkled, and Olivia said, “We seem to be in the habit of doing and then thinking.”
“I—know what you mean,” Amelia murmured as she began to move around the room, picking up clothing and setting the room in order. Olivia watched her, becoming aware for the first time, of an underlying sadness in the woman.
Searching for a safe topic, Olivia asked, “What are you finding to do here?”
“Not too much right now. There was a group here the day after you left. In fact, Mr. Cooper found them. He’d been told Negroes were seen in the woods, so he investigated. It turned out they were looking for him. They had heard about the place from others. They’ve been helped on to Canada.” She paused. “There’s always mending to do and such. Sadie’s friends pass on clothing, and she spends time getting it in condition for the people.”
“Should we go down and help Sadie?” Olivia asked as Amelia smoothed her hair.
She nodded, starting for the door. “One thing I should warn you about.” She faced Olivia. “There’s been a horde of guests. A constant procession of preachers and people working in the abolition movement. Hope you don’t mind being preached at constantly.”
Olivia shrugged. “I don’t mind; does it bother you?”
“I didn’t realize it did.” Amelia touched her cheeks. “I’m trying my best to be a good Christian; what more can they expect?”
Olivia followed Amelia downstairs and into the kitchen. The stocky farmer came to meet her. “Mr. Cooper,” Olivia murmured, “I’m grateful for your hospitality, but surely this is a burden.”
Probing her with eyes that seemed to see far too deep, he said, “Burden? No. We will make good use of thee. Has Sadie told thee of the uproar going on?” She shook her head and he added, “From now until spring when all of us farmers will need to get down to planting and hoeing, we’re going to be having the biggest bunch of people rolling through here that you’ve ever seen.”
“Why?” Olivia asked, astonished beyond good manners.
“For a starter, politics.” He nodded toward the fireplace. “Now come and meet Brother Lane. He’s a good Quaker and interested in saving souls and bodies; thy soul and the black man’s body.”
She heard the chuckle behind her and turned. Although dressed in somber Quaker garb, wearing the demeanor of a parson, he was tall and thin and seemed very young. “Miss Olivia Thomas,” he said, bowing over her hand with eyes teasing and joyful. “I am indeed happy to make thy acquaintance. A lovely young lady always adds interest to the occasion.”
“And Brother Lane leaves a string of broken hearts behind him. I’ve noticed him walking quickly enough to avoid the noose of matrimony which his glib tongue lays.” Chuckling and shaking his head, Mr. Cooper led the way to the table.
Sadie placed the bowl of chicken and dumplings in the middle of the table, adjusted the plate of squash and said, “Now just take Amos’s talk with a grain of salt. Jerome Lane is a nice young man.”
Olivia took her place at the table, waited for the young parson to pray, and then asked, “Mr. Cooper mentioned politics. What else brings people out in the winter?”
Jerome Lane broke a dumpling, surveyed it, and said, “Perfect, as usual.” He addressed Amelia, “You know, she’s the best cook east of the Mississippi; west I know nothing about. You should take lessons.” He nodded toward Olivia.
She winced. “How did you know?”
Amos Cooper laughed while Jerome’s eyes twinkled. “Know the best way to find out what kind of cook a young lady is?” She shook her head, and he added, “By making a statement like that.”
“And I fell into your trap, and now you know.”
Amos was still laughing when Jerome asked, “Thou art Southern, aren’t thee?”
“Again my tongue gave me away.”
“Now I will answer thy question. I am an abolitionist at heart. A great number of the brothers are.”
“From the manner of your statement,” Olivia responded, “I see I’m judged and found wanting. And I know that statement comes out of the Bible. What you Northerners can’t understand is that we Southerners aren’t heathen.”
“Olivia,” Amelia protested, “he didn’t accuse you of being heathen.”
Her voice overlapped Amelia’s. “I’ve spent two-and-a-half months traveling with runaway slaves. I am as compassionate as anyone who has regard for their freedom. And for those who really want freedom, for those who have been mistreated, I will work for freedom. But coming from the South and having lived with contented Negroes, I must say I can’t support the idea that everyone wishes to be free.”
Jerome Lane finished his piece of chicken and looked at Olivia. “Hast thou considered the possibility that perhaps some of these people have never been taught to value themselves? With the contempt of their masters echoing in their ears, it must be near impossible to think of themselves as worthy people. Our goal is to teach that their race and color is just as much to be honored as is the white race.”
He looked down at his plate. “Perhaps our race needs this message as much as they do.”
Amos Cooper leaned forward to look at Olivia, “It isn’t to our credit that a so-called Christian nation denies the Word of God, by statute no less, to all these black people.”
Sadie shook her head and sighed, “We don’t give these people a chance to learn to read.”
Olivia stared down at her hands, “All my life I’ve heard the Bible supports slavery. Certainly I consider myself Christian. Now you are telling me that slavery is wrong. To whom should I listen?”
Amos pointed his knife at her. “Young lady, don’t listen to anyone except the Lord. Don’t take our word for it. Now if thou aren’t in the habit of reading thy Bible and asking the Lord to give thee direction, then we’ll be obligated to read to thee and pray over thee.”
“And make me change my mind?”
“Never make. The Lord himself won’t force thee to change thy mind. Though, could be, someday thou’ll regret not knowing how the Lord feels about some of these matters.”
While they were preparing for bed, Olivia asked, “Are all these guests as dogmatic as Jerome Lane?”
“Not all,” Amelia answered. “And I have the idea some of them are too busy to line up all the reasons you heard tonight. They seem more interested in people than in why.”