Kate lay in her tent, the passing of the night measured by Charlotte’s steady breathing beside her. She jumped at every creaking branch, every scurry of a woodland creature, waiting to hear a cry go up that would signal Elijah’s doom.
She could still feel his touch. It was branded on her skin, though the man himself was gone.
Gone.
She’d thought she’d known what finality was: a babe dragged from her arms by a river that demanded payment for her foolishness. A husband who climbed up a river bank and left her to drown.
But this was another pain entirely. She knew her child had left this earthly plane, and she vehemently hoped her scoundrel of a husband had as well, but she would never know what had become of Elijah. If he made it to Manhattan, would he be able to find Washington’s army? Would he eventually love another woman, hold her in his arms and make her feel like the most special being ever created? Or would he perish during his escape attempt? Would the brightness created every time he smiled be snuffed from this world?
Agony writhed in her at the thought of it. She wanted to go to him, but the last time she had followed her heart…
Oh, please keep Elijah safe. Please hold him in your graces. She prayed to the God of her slave master and to the faded memory of the Gods of her people. And that is when she knew that she had to go to him.
It was neither revelation nor divine inspiration. Kate simply knew that if she loved a man enough to pray for his life twice—she who had given up all belief in a higher power—then she was meant to be at his side.
She grabbed a linen sheet and placed her and Charlotte’s few belongings inside. The bag of coins Elijah had scavenged from Trumbull she tucked into the bosom of her dress. Charlotte groaned in annoyance when Kate hefted her up and wrapped an extra length of linen around her to hold her in place against her chest, but she settled into Kate's arms peacefully as they headed out into the night.
As Kate stole toward the woods, there was a ruckus from the direction of the barn. The distant cries of British soldiers rang out in the night. “The prisoners have escaped!”
Candles were being lit in tents in the Colored encampment as the noise woke the sleeping laborers. Kate did not have much time and was grateful that she knew exactly where to go. She’d been dispatched to the Dixon farm several times to pick up laundry supplies. Now, she simply hoped that she could move quickly and quietly enough to get there without detection.
As she hurtled forward through the trees, trying not to jostle the heavy child in her arms, Kate fought back memories of her first flight through the woods. The child she’d carried then had been much lighter, and her husband had toted her few belongings. When he’d abandoned her and the babe in the raging river, she’d well and truly been left with nothing. Only the current pushing her back to shore had saved her because she’d stopped swimming as soon as it became clear that her life’s light, her curly-haired girl, had been snatched from her.
Kate shook those thoughts from her head. She tried to fix on something that inspired hope and Elijah’s handsome face appeared in her mind. As she hopped over the underbrush, she thought of how magnificent he’d been in the moonlight, all sculpted muscle as he stood by the creek. He was beautiful, and he’d made her feel beautiful too when he loved her as no one ever had.
She let thoughts of Elijah sustain her as she drew up to the banks of the East River…only to see a boat in the distance, headed toward Manhattan Island at full sail. A strong wind blew from behind her, hastening Elijah away from her.
“No,” she whispered. Everything in her went cold as she watched it pull farther and farther away. She’d thought to save herself from pain by leaving him before he could leave her, but now she regretted it dearly. She’d prevented him from breaking her heart, but only because she’d done a bloody good job of it herself.
She sank to the ground, Charlotte’s weight and her fatigue finally catching up with her. She was unable to pull her gaze from where the boat had faded into the darkness until a hot blast of hay-scented breath snuffled into her ear.
She ducked to her side, shielding Charlotte who squirmed against her chest before groggily whispering, “Nutmeg!”
Kate looked over her shoulder with the thought that she'd been driven to madness by her longing for Elijah. For there he stood, holding the reins to the best trained horse in King George’s Army.
“You’re supposed to be on the boat,” Kate said angrily. She was unsure why she was suddenly so upset, as she had only just been at the edge of despair when she thought him gone. Perhaps that would have been easier than facing him, for now he must know that she well and truly cared for him. What would he do with that knowledge?
“It appears I am not,” he said in the kind tone that raised her hackles and made her want to run to him at the same time. The horse whinnied its agreement. “I decided to stay behind in the hopes that a hardheaded woman would eventually succumb to my pleas.”
“That hardheaded woman had a moment of softness,” Kate said. “She isn’t sure she should chance America, but she’s willing to take a chance on you.”
He was quiet for a long time. When Kate looked at him, she could see his Adam’s apple working in his throat.
“If the British find out you had anything to do with the prisoners escaping, they’ll kill you,” she said quietly. The waves crashed into the shore, their echo raising the hairs on her neck. “And now we’re trapped here.”
“Do you know how to swim?” he asked, and she was struck by memory of a hard wave crashing over her head, pulling her beneath the cold surface and tumbling her until her arms were pried open. She squeezed Charlotte closer to her.
“Yes,” she said. “I certainly can’t make it to Manhattan, though, especially not carrying Charlotte.”
“Well, you won’t have to swim if Nutmeg does her job. This horse is strong and healthy and swims like a fish,” Elijah said, handing the horse a slice of apple. It took the fruit delicately between its teeth and huffed happily.
Kate was not happy, though. She was too preoccupied trying to be brave. She was trying to master her fear, but it held her in its icy grip even as her mind battled against it.
“Do you trust me?” Elijah asked.
“No,” Kate said immediately, reflexively, but shook her head when she saw the dismay on his face.
“I killed my child, you see,” she blurted out, eyes locked on Elijah though she wanted to look away. The words, bottled up for years, came out in a torrent. “My husband told me we had to escape because he was to be sold off. He said the tide would be low and the current gentle, but the river had swelled from rain…others told me not to attempt it, but I scoffed at them because I trusted him. He didn’t even try to help us when he made it to the other side, just kept running. I hate him for what he did to me!” She stopped and gulped a breath. She’d never spoken her pain aloud before. “I don’t know if I can do this again.”
By now, the tears were flowing freely. She rocked Charlotte soothingly, but the child was fast asleep. It was she who needed soothing.
Elijah released the reins and pulled Kate into his arms, wrapping her and her ward in the warmth of his affection. It felt so wonderful to let go, to not hold the grief and shame inside of her, where it poisoned the well of her soul.
“Kate, I will let nothing befall you or Charlotte. I know this is going to be the most frightening thing you’ve ever done, but I promise you with everything I am that we will make it across that river. There, my men wait for us. There, freedom waits for us. Do you know what they wrote in the Declaration of Independence, the foundation of this new nation of ours?”
At this point she would usually tell him that America was not her home, but looking at the brightness in his eye and hearing the fervor in his tone almost had her convinced. She shook her head.
“It says that we have certain inalienable rights,” he said in a voice that was rough with conviction. “Life. Liberty. The pursuit of happiness. They may not be ours just yet, but by God, they will be.”
She trembled in his arms as the immensity of his words shook her. Happiness a right? She’d always thought of it as a foolish dream. But this damned Continental of hers was infectious in his enthusiasm.
“I will try, Elijah,” she said. Just the thought of it made her want to throw herself onto the safety of the shore and cling, but she turned her back on it instead. “Let us go. Now, before I change my mind.”
“My brave Katie,” he murmured tenderly, and knowing that he believed her to be so emboldened her to believe it herself.
She pulled away from him and glared out at the great, dark expanse of water ebbing and flowing before her. She had crossed many miles of it on that journey from Africa to America, and she had survived. The water had tried to claim her along with her daughter all those years ago, and it had failed. Let it try again tonight: she would best it. She knew now that love could drag you under, but it could buoy you as well.
She pulled Elijah in for a long, tender kiss before he boosted her up onto the horse. He lifted her skirts up and tied them under Charlotte, to provide some protection from the water and to allow Kate to kick and swim freely if she needed to. He met her gaze as he led Nutmeg toward the rocky beach. Kate’s breath quickened as they stepped into the water, as the cold, inky liquid began to lap at her feet and Nutmeg kicked out against the current.
Elijah squeezed her hand before releasing it to paddle beside the horse. His stroke was strong and confident.
“Be not afraid, my love,” he said, glancing up at her with hope and something much stronger burning in his eyes.
Kate squeezed her thighs tighter around Nutmeg and set her gaze across the moon-dappled river. She did not know what awaited them when they reached Manhattan Island, but with Elijah at her side she had no doubt that they would make it there.