This time Olivia discovered that occasionally the jailer didn’t say “Regulations.” He looked from Father’s gold-headed cane to his white hair and brought Alex into his office. Amused, Olivia watched the man move chairs.
“Sir,” Alex murmured, “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, although these circumstances aren’t most favorable. I realize it must be extremely difficult to welcome a jailbird into the family.” He paused, “I hope that someday both of the families can be together under better conditions.”
Within minutes, Olivia’s father rumbled, “I like you, son. Let’s get you out of this place right now.”
“The only way that would be possible, Sir, is to compromise all I stand for. You could easily buy my freedom, but to do so would force me to surrender to them.” He took a deep breath and added, “My father is also a plantation owner—in South Carolina and Louisiana. Olivia and I know we are working against the values both of you hold most dear. But this is a new era, and while you cling to the old traditions, we are recognizing the need for change. Our consciences can no longer bow to slavery.”
“You will destroy us all.”
“I’m sorry, Sir. My heart aches for you, just as it does for my own father. I don’t wish to see either of you suffer. But I can’t compromise with God in order to please you or my father.”
Cornelius Thomas got to his feet. “Sally Ann and I will be happy to welcome you as our son. But we will pray to God that you get your head on straight. Nevertheless—” he turned his head stiffly. “Daughter, we must go.”
Alex’s eyes were filled with misery. Olivia blinked to keep from crying. She touched his face. That wasn’t enough. For a moment they clung together, and she felt his lips against her hair.
As Cornelius turned away, he said, “Six months is a long time.”
“I know, Sir,” Alex’s voice was husky, “It seems like forever.”
Cornelius stayed only until the end of the week. “I can’t wait any longer,” he stated, carrying his valise down to the hall. “Matthew is likely to be gone for weeks.”
Amos brought the wagon around. Cornelius looked at Olivia and said, “I must tell you, a friend of Matthew’s requested his address. I gave him information. Since he seemed so eager to make contact with Matthew, you may keep the letter from him. His name is Lucas Tristram, an old classmate.”
****
At the first of the week, Matthew and Crystal returned. They arrived by hack, and Olivia could scarcely wait to get them in the door before she began her questions.
Matthew warded off the questions, saying, “Come sit down, all of you, and I’ll tell you what has happened on our end. The Awl has been run aground up a river flowing into the Ohio. The mouth of the river is just below the north curve on the Ohio. We didn’t dare stop before then.”
“You knew we had trouble?”
Matthew grinned down at Olivia, “We, you say! I didn’t know you had gone with Alex until Crystal checked the cabin later.” He shook his head. “One of these days you’ll get yourself into a situation we won’t be able to rectify.”
“I think I have.”
He glanced at her and added, “Back to my story. We’d figured that the Awl had taken us as far as possible, so Caleb took the slaves and headed for the station up north, pretty close to Erie. He had the name of a man who uses his boat to carry slaves across Lake Erie to Canada. That’s the last I’ve heard of him. Crystal and I had to wait for a ride into Pittsburgh and then for passage back down.”
He turned to Olivia. “Now what have you done?”
“Alex and I are married.”
He grinned slowly. “Well, that tops anything I can come up with. Why the hurry?”
“Father came after me. We managed to beat him by a day. Fortunately, he never thought to ask how long we had been married.”
“Where’s Alex?”
“In jail. Paddyrollers. He’s been arraigned, and unless there’s a miracle, he’ll be there for six months. He’s going to need money. A thousand dollars for each slave he’s stolen.”
“Stolen!”
“That’s their word for freed.”
“Guess I’d better go see him. Want to come with me, Olivia?”
“No. I was there early this morning. Besides, they usually let only one person in at a time—unless it’s someone like Father.”
Olivia watched Matthew and Crystal as they went up to their room, then with a sigh she turned down the hall. “Sadie, need some help?” she called as she entered the kitchen. She stopped. Sadie and Amelia looked up. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation.”
Sadie stood up. “’Tis time to pick vegetables for dinner. My, I dread the winter months when there’s not a fresh vegetable outside of carrots and onions.” She took her pan and hurried out the door.
Olivia watched her go, saying, “Something is disturbing Sadie.”
“She has marriage fever,” Amelia drawled. “Had such good luck with you and Crystal, now she’s working on me. I had to tell her to back down.”
“What do you mean?”
“Remember the fellow who’s wife died last winter? Well, she pinned me in the corner and wouldn’t let me go until I set her straight. To say the least, I disappointed her.”
“Oh. You don’t want a ready-made family.”
“I don’t want any family. Guess I had to get rough with her.” Amelia glanced at Olivia. “I’m married. That’s why I left home. For me marriage is just too confining.”
Olivia went to peek in the simmering kettle. “Sorry,” Amelia said. “Guess that’s not going to set too well with a newlywed.”
“You notice I’m not asking.”
“Thank you.” She stood up and left the room.
Olivia sighed and went to the door of Alex’s room. Her eyes caressed his old jacket, the neat stack of papers on the chest, and the pillow that bore the imprint of her head. “Dear Lord, please keep him safe and bring him home soon.”
Crystal came in. “I went looking for you, and Amelia said you’d moved down to Alex’s room.” She studied Olivia’s face and gave her a quick hug. “I’m glad for you,” she whispered. “Alex is a wonderful person. Only, it must be so sad—you haven’t had a honeymoon yet.”
Olivia smiled. “About the best we can hope for a honeymoon will be another trip in the Golden Awl.”
“Aren’t you getting tired of that?”
“I guess it isn’t my idea of luxury, but I keep thinking of the people.”
Crystal turned away. Olivia touched her arm. “Have you told Matthew about Joseph?”
“No.” Crystal shook her head and left the room.
I know what it is like, my dear sister-in-law. The rebellion against the God of the Universe. I pray you find a way to resolve your guilt before it tears you apart, or worse yet—both of you. Olivia sighed and went to help Sadie.
****
Crystal bent over her husband. “Lazy, precious husband,” she murmured, nuzzling his ear. “Do you remember? Last night you promised Amos you’d help him shoe that filly.”
“Kisses before breakfast, Crystal?” He shoved his pillow at her.
“My dear,” she teased, “you sound as if you’ve been married at least twenty years.”
He sat up and studied her with a frown. “Where are you going in that outfit?”
“I’m cleaning house. If you stay in that bed a moment longer, I’ll let you shake rugs for me.”
With a shudder he left the bed. “Housework! I can’t believe the torture Northerners willingly endure.”
Later Crystal gathered the rugs and carried them downstairs. As she started for the door, Olivia hurried out of the parlor. “Crystal!” She stopped in the middle of the hall and stared at the woman. “What are you doing? Where did you find that dress?”
Crystal looked from the frock to Olivia’s face. “Is it that bad?” she faltered. “I borrowed it from Sadie’s barrel. I couldn’t clean house in silk moire.”
“Bad isn’t the word,” Olivia said slowly looking up from her examination of the brown print cotton with the too-tight bodice. “Your buttons don’t do the job. Oh, well, the men aren’t going to be in the house. Wave a dust mop at them and they all take off. Matter of fact, you’ll have the place to yourself. I’m going to help Sadie pick beans this morning. This afternoon I’m going to visit Alex.” With a faraway look in her eyes, she sighed and started for the kitchen.
Crystal finished cleaning the upstairs rooms and came down to get the rugs she had left airing outside the house.
As she reached the main floor, there was a knock on the door. She tugged at her bodice and hurried to the door.
The man standing there had started to turn away. When she pulled the door open he came back. His impatient frown disappeared as he surveyed her, lingering over the bodice and mob-cap. “I think I like Pennsylvania country life. However, I didn’t expect to find such lush living. Is the master or your mistress at home?”
She studied his cocky smile and the spotless white suit he wore. “To whom do you wish to speak?”
He hesitated and something changed in his eyes. “I’m looking for Matthew Thomas. Do you know of him?”
Coldly she said, “You’ll find him in the pasture.” She closed the door. Snatching the cap from her head, she ran up the stairs. In her room she stopped to look at herself in the mirror for one minute before she pulled off the dress.
“All day long,” she fumed, “people have been saying this to you, and you have paid them no mind. Do you have to be hit over the head before you’ll accept what others so readily see?” With a shudder she surveyed the mirrored figure dressed only in chemise and pantaloons. It didn’t matter that the chemise was the most delicate of lace, the mirror confirmed the earlier impression. “Just a plain old nigger. Oh, God! What do I do?”
Slowly she bathed and selected her most delicate gown. When she went downstairs and into the parlor, Matthew and the stranger jumped to their feet.
Matthew came to her and took her hand. “My dear, I want you to meet Lucas Tristram, a classmate of mine from Harvard.”
“Mrs. Thomas—” he bent over her hand. “How delighted I am to find someone has finally taken pity on Matthew and married him!” For a moment, his eyes mocked her and terror filled her heart.
“Mr. Tristram,” she said slowly, “do you live in the area?”
“No. The truth is I’ve come just to see Matthew. His father kindly supplied his address.” Tristram bowed toward Matthew. “You may be wondering why I’ve traveled this far for a social call. It isn’t only that. If you’ll be my guests this evening, we’ll find time to talk about it.”
Matthew laughed, “Then you’ll need to wait for me to wash the pasture and horses off myself. Crystal, you look absolutely stunning the way you are, darling. Will you entertain our guest while I bathe?” He headed for the stairs, and Crystal slowly faced the man.
“May I offer you some of Sadie’s fresh peach nectar, or would you prefer cold buttermilk? The Coopers have a wonderful root cellar with an icy cold stream to keep us supplied with chilled drinks.”
“The nectar,” he said with a smile. “Now I suppose you must go back to playing maid?”
Without answering him she walked toward the kitchen. Sadie and Olivia came into the kitchen with a basket of dried beans. Their hands were dusty and their hair disheveled.
“We have a guest, a friend of Matthew’s. Do you care to meet him now?”
Olivia took in the grandeur of Crystal’s gown and grinned. “That sounds like a good idea.” She hurried down the hall.
Sadie looked from Crystal to Olivia’s departing back. “Oh dear, she’s so dirty. Well,” she shrugged, wiped her hands on a towel and followed Olivia.
Crystal cocked her head, listened to the voices and headed for the back door. With a smile, she said, “Olivia and Sadie, I think you deserve peach nectar, too.”
****
When Olivia reached Hadenport, the jailer escorted her back to Alex’s cell. Turning his piercing gaze on her, he said, “I could spend all my time guarding this fella while he has guests. I’ve got work to do. I’ll leave the door open, and don’t you get close to them bars.” He marched away. Olivia thrust her hand through the bars, touched Alex’s face, and then stepped back.
With a catch in her voice she said, “This is worse than the Female Academy in Boston.”
He tried to smile. “Olivia, you’ll have me standing in the corner yet.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s been so long—the weeks have been forever—and I just simply had to touch you.”
His voice was husky as he said, “Tell me about yourself. I seldom see you alone. Have you been reading your Bible?”
“Oh, Alex, I’m afraid I’m ruining it with my tears.”
“I’ll buy you another one and write in it the things I didn’t dare write before.”
“What?”
“‘To Olivia, you are my love.’” Her hand stretched toward him and he shook his head. “He may make you leave.”
She bit her lip and looked up, blinking tears. Hastily she said, “Alex, does God always come on tiptoe?”
“What do you mean?”
“I told you about the dream. It was as if God had turned everything inside of me right side up. Life was changed. Alex, I haven’t had opportunity to tell you all that happened that night. I’d like to now.”
“I’ve been wanting to know, but sensed it wasn’t something you’d care to share with everyone coming through here.”
She rubbed a fingernail and looked up. “Alex, I nearly turned my back on God. My selfish desires—” She saw his face and knew he understood completely. “Alex, they’re changed. I’ll admit I was nearly ready to run away from you, back to security and freedom. Freedom? Strange, now I know it’s just the opposite; it’s here with God and you. Please don’t look like that. I’ll never want anything except His will. And I’m no longer afraid of Him; His will is suddenly beautiful.
“But Alex, for a long time God’s will was whispered into me in such a gentle, loving way I nearly ignored it. That night I realized what I was doing. This is the God of the universe, Creator, Savior—how could I have treated Him like a lackey, sent to make me comfortable?”
She took a step closer and whispered, “Alex, I appreciated the dream so much. It was as if God lifted me and enabled me to do what I couldn’t do for myself—trust Him.”
“But you were starting to move toward Him,” Alex countered, “I could see the change in you.”
“His gentleness and patience with me was nearly my downfall. I expected Him to treat me like a doting daddy. I forgot Who He really is until that night when that gentle finger touched all the ugliness in me and I knew I dared not hold onto one bit of my selfishness. The dream was a door opening my mind. Suddenly my whole being was turned around, and I felt I was started in the right direction.” She paused. “You talked about directions. I thought it meant my direction, but you meant God’s direction. It’s God’s way when we follow repentance, isn’t it?”
“Yes, my dear. And now our jailer is coming. I must say I love you. I miss you—”
“I pray constantly that soon—” The man was there, and Olivia turned away.
****
In the early morning, with the sound of birds and the scent of autumn with its fresh hay perfume coming through the window, Crystal pushed her pillow into a wedge and studied her husband’s face.
When she could no longer resist, she lightly drew her finger down the plane of his face. Without opening his eyes he moved closer. “Matthew?” Finally he opened one eye. “What does that Tristram fellow want?”
He opened both eyes and raised himself to his elbow. “I don’t think you like him.”
“I don’t. I’ve seen too many just like him in New Orleans. He’s the perfect dandy who—”
“What were you going to say?”
“Nothing I guess. But tell me about him. I know you talked after I came upstairs last night.”
“And I’m still trying to put it all together. Your ‘perfect dandy’ describes the way he impressed me while we were in school.” He gave her a quick look. “I know you guessed him to be a good friend of mine, but he isn’t. I did form an opinion of him, however, and I don’t think it’s changed much. Right now, if his words are to be trusted, it seems someone has placed a great deal of confidence in him. He appears to have a fund of information which, if true, comes from someone high in Southern politics.”
“What does he want?”
“Bright boys to come home and learn how to support the South with all their talents, brains, and money. At least he was candid.”
“Does that appeal to you?”
“I don’t know. I’m getting a little tired of this game. There isn’t enough going on. And frankly, I don’t want to risk spending six months in jail like Alex is doing. But on the other hand, I agree with many of Alex’s ideas. This is a time of change for the South. The slaves must be freed; it is the only decent way to treat them.”
“Decent? That doesn’t sound—compassionate.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps, but candid. Crystal, I can’t pretend something I’m not. I don’t have Alex’s call. In addition, without slaves, how does the South continue to support their cotton and rice agriculture? It’s a dilemma.”
He paused, then smiled and drew her close. “How would you like to be a senator’s wife?”