I was slow serving breakfast on Tuesday morning. I couldn’t balance a tray on my bad arm, so I had to carry the dishes in multiple trips.
Mrs. Pratt and the children waited at their places. On my second trip, Dorcas hopped to her feet. “Mama, may I help Susanna?”
“You may.”
“Delilah, come with us.”
Once we reached the kitchen, Dorcas pointed at the little bit of bandage that peeked out from beneath my sleeve. “I’ve never seen a bandage look like that.”
“I only had one hand free to secure it.” The more I lied, the easier it became.
“It looks better than a two-handed bandage.”
Both sisters bent over my arm for a closer inspection. Delilah lost interest first. I assigned her the task of carrying spoons. She was delighted.
Dorcas placed bowls on the tray, lifted it, and followed me from the kitchen. She quickened her steps to draw even with me. “How did you hurt your arm?”
“I burned it in the hearth.”
Her silence was heavy. She looked up at me, her eyes sad and wise.
When we entered the dining room, my master had not come to the table yet. I set a bowl at his place and looked inquiringly at my mistress.
She smiled primly. “Mr. Pratt won’t dine with us today. Jedidiah, the blessing, please.”
Questions hovered on my tongue, but I held them in. Dorcas was as curious as I. Surely I needed only be patient.
Once the porridge was served and the cider poured, I sat in the corner with John and Dinah. She stacked blocks, he knocked them over, and then they both looked to me for praise. Naturally, they received it profusely.
The family ate without speaking, although not in the usual absolute silence.
After a few moments passed, Dorcas sighed loudly, squirmed, and sighed again.
I smiled.
“Is there something you would like to say, Dorcas?” her mother asked.
“I would like to know where my papa is.”
“He’s visiting his brother George.”
“Merciful heavens.” Dorcas glanced over at me before turning back to her mother. “Do they like each other?”
Deborah kicked her.
“Ouch.” Dorcas scowled. “I don’t care what you do to me. I want to know.”
“They are brothers. Of course they like each other.” Mrs. Pratt preened, face glowing with satisfaction. “I expect Uncle George to send many gifts and treats. Your father will bring them when he returns later this week.”
I tweaked Baby John’s cheeks. Days without my master? I had never experienced such a thing in eight years. Joy filled me, as if his absence allowed a sweet breeze to blow through the household.
Even better, I could set my plans in motion without his watchful eye.
Mark would not fail me. My master would not be here to stop me. We would succeed.
It was a lovely day. Without the specter of Mr. Pratt’s disapproval, everyone laughed more, talked more, and smiled more. Even supper and washing seemed easier, somehow. With no requirement to trail me on my walk, Jedidiah settled happily to his lessons.
I awaited Mark impatiently at twilight. He arrived soon after me, hopped among the boulders with the ease of frequent practice, and jumped through the falls. He waved a sheath of documents.
“I found another housemaid job.”
Even had I not been in good spirits, his enthusiasm would have been infectious. “Tell me quickly.”
“Here’s the advertisement from the Hillsborough paper.” He read from the top sheet, unable to suppress a glow of pride. “‘The household of Jonathan Palmer has an opening to apprentice a young woman, fourteen to eighteen, of strong constitution and pleasing manner, to accept such duties as might be given in the house.’”
His words doused me like a cold shower. Did he not know my sister’s age? “Phoebe is twelve.”
“Does she have a strong constitution and a pleasing manner?”
“Indeed.” Enthusiasm lurched to disappointment. The leading families of the state could choose the best staff. They wouldn’t settle for a girl when they specifically asked for someone older.
“So, she has two out of three. We’ll change their minds about her age.”
I ached for it to be true. My sister would be safe in the home of a fine statesman. But why take her where she wasn’t wanted? “It will be difficult.”
“I’m still giving it a shot. We’re running out of time.” He folded the paper and stuffed it into a back pocket. “How about Friday?”
Three days away. I would travel to my mother’s farm on the day before, thereby giving her less opportunity to share the secret with Mr. Shaw.
“They will be ready by mid-morning.”
* * *
Thursday proved to be light for chores. After dinner, I left the Pratts’s property and followed the main road toward Raleigh.
It was a miserable day to walk. The air was moist and thick. Brittle weeds lined the sides of the road, their razor-sharp leaves slicing my heels. I moved to the forest’s edge, where it was cooler and fragrant with pine, but it slowed my pace. Twenty minutes later, I turned onto a beaten-down track leading to my mother’s farm.
When I reached the track’s end, I paused in the shade and surveyed the property with a critical eye. The house brooded on a yard of hard-baked red clay. A scraggly garden lay blistering in the sun. Behind the house, a horse nibbled grass at the edge of the field, its dark tail flicking lazily.
Mr. Shaw had quite a job ahead of him.
Phoebe erupted from the cornfield, holding a pail. “Susie?” She rushed over and caught me about the waist. “I’m glad to see you.”
“I’m glad to see you, as well.” I hugged her close to me, memorizing the feel of her thin body. Phoebe was so slight. Would it not be obvious to all how young she was? Indeed, she seemed even younger than her age. Doubts chipped away at my confidence.
“Why are you here?”
I dropped a kiss on her brow. “I have come to speak with Mama for a time. But I have a request for you.”
“Yes?”
“I have a special journey planned for us tomorrow. Can you be ready after breakfast?”
Her brow creased. “Where?”
“It’s a secret. Will you keep it?”
Her eyes shone. “I shall.”
“Very well. The trip is to Raleigh.” I laughed at her eager smile. “It will be exciting. Do you have any embroidery you can bring?”
“Perhaps the handkerchief with the bees and vines?”
“Indeed. It will do nicely.”
“What shall we do there? Might we eat in a real tavern, or must we pack food? I should like to eat in a real tavern.”
I laughed. “So many questions. We must discuss them all with Mama.”
Our mother chose that moment to appear in the door. “Susanna?”
“Don’t forget, it’s a secret,” I whispered to Phoebe.
“I shall not.”
I hurried across the yard, crossed the sagging porch, and followed my mother into the great room. It had a just-cleaned look. A new rag rug lay in the center of the freshly swept floor. The windows had been scrubbed of a decade’s worth of grime. A basket of quilt pieces crouched next to a rocking chair. It was inviting and cheerful, reflecting the efforts of an industrious housewife—a title my mother could hardly claim. Perhaps Mr. Shaw was fooled.
“Why have you come?” She didn’t smile.
“You are to marry.”
“I don’t like to live alone.”
“You don’t live alone now.”
Her lips compressed. “Living with a child isn’t the same as living with a husband.”
“I expect not.” I gave her an unblinking stare.
She flushed and looked away. “Don’t judge me. I’m good at being a wife. I don’t want to run a farm by myself.”
“I didn’t want to be an indentured servant, but your Mr. Crawford forced me there anyway.” I shifted until I was in her view again. “Mr. Shaw will force Phoebe into an indenture, as well.”
Mama shook her head. “You are mistaken. He said she can stay with me if she is useful.”
“Did he promise? Is her progress with spinning enough?”
Mama sighed. “Mr. Shaw says that Drusilla Pratt is quite discouraged by Phoebe’s progress.”
“Discouraged?” Words of protest clogged my throat, but I swallowed them back. “Where did he hear this news?”
“Jethro Pratt.” My mother shook her head. “I am greatly surprised. I expected Phoebe to excel.”
Phoebe’s skill was extraordinary. Her efforts would one day sell for a fine price. My master had deceived Mr. Shaw, and there could be only one reason—so Mr. Pratt could bind her to himself. His despicable behavior worked in my favor. I would leave the deception unchallenged.
I touched her lightly on the shoulder. Beneath my hand, I could feel her bones clearly.
“Until Phoebe turns eighteen, you will wonder every day whether Mr. Shaw will bind her out. Is that what you want for yourself or Phoebe?”
She clasped her arms against her waist and hunched over, her body still. But her eyes were restless. They darted here and there, as if seeking answers.
“No,” she whispered, “he won’t take her from me.”
“He will.” My mother was wavering. It was time to press her relentlessly. “He cannot bind her out if you have resolved her future before you marry.”
“Mr. Shaw will be angry if I decide without him.”
“Until July tenth, he has no claim on her. It is an unworthy man who would fault a mother for taking care of her child.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“There’s no need for you to worry any longer.” My mother’s dithering tried my patience. I had to get her to agree to my plan. “I have found a job for Phoebe.”
“Where?”
God forgive me for the lie I was about to tell. “I have secured a position for her in Nathaniel Eton’s household.”
Her lips parted in awe. “Mr. Eton, the war hero?”
“Yes. Would it not be an honor to have your daughter working there?”
“Indeed. They are a fine family. But don’t they live in Raleigh?”
“They do. But it’s close enough that you could travel to see her. Mr. Shaw will have business in Raleigh on occasion. You could ride along. And in October, I shall be living there, too.”
She paced the room, muttering to herself. “Can I do this?”
When at last she passed by her rocking chair, she collapsed into it, hands wringing in her lap. “We cannot accept. I should miss her too fiercely if she were to leave.”
Her statement cut like a knife. Had she ever thought such things about me? Had she protested when her second husband sent me away? It was barely a mile to the Pratts’s farm. Yet, once the papers were signed, she acted as if she had no interest in me. Why, after all this time, did this knowledge have the power to hurt? I had to force these long-buried thoughts away.
“Where else could she go, if not to Raleigh?”
She twisted her hands in the folds of her apron. “Perhaps housewifery at the Pratts’s wouldn’t be so terrible. Mr. Shaw says they have been good to you.”
I gaped in disbelief. “Are you mad?” I asked in a grating voice, forgetting my need for calm at the sheer lack of notice my mother paid me. She had spent little time near me since I left her household. But shouldn’t that make my treatment more visible? Had she not seen the scars and bruises accumulate?
Without thinking, I peeled up my bandage and forced my wound before her shocked gaze. “Mr. Pratt burned me. He kicked a hot skillet against my arm.”
She studied the wound, eyes blinking rapidly. “Why would he do such a thing?”
Tears stung my eyes. Could there be any acceptable reason for burning someone?
“For reading a book.”
She shook her head over and over. Her mouth hung open but no sounds emerged.
“He beats me, Mama.” I faced away from her and lifted my petticoat. “Do you see the scars covering my legs? The newest ones are for oversleeping. He struck me five times for serving his breakfast fifteen minutes late.”
“No,” she said with a sob.
I dropped my petticoat and spun around. “That is the life you chose for me when you handed my fate to your husband. Is that what you wish for Phoebe?”
“I am sorry, Susanna. I didn’t know.”
Anguish, eight years in the making, loosened my tongue. “You would have known if you ever looked at me.” I knelt before her, hands gripping the arms of her chair. “Mama, you must do what’s right for Phoebe. Don’t let a stranger decide her future.”
She raised trembling fingers to her lips. It was quiet in the room, but sounds drifted in from the outside. Birds calling. Chickens clucking. Phoebe singing.
She nodded slowly, then with more conviction. “When?”
“Tomorrow.”
She gasped. “So soon?”
“The position won’t remain open long. It’s greatly coveted.” If my sister secured any position in Raleigh, we would leave her behind. I couldn’t risk bringing her back and having Mr. Shaw interfere. My mother didn’t have to know the details of the transaction. “Mr. Eton needs a willing worker in his home. They entertain often and require many beautiful clothes. Phoebe’s skill with the needle will surely be used. Is this solution not a superior one?”
“I agree. Yes.” She shivered. “They will be good to her?”
“Undoubtedly.” Finally, success. I should have been guilt-ridden by the ease with which I had deceived my own mother. I was not. “I shall see you early tomorrow. Please wear your Sunday best.”
Her eyes widened. “Must I go?”
“You may have to sign papers.”
She rose and crossed to the window. There she watched her youngest child collecting vegetables in the garden. “I suppose I must keep this decision a secret from Mr. Shaw?”
“Indeed. Your discussion with him will be easier after the deed is done.” I looked past her to my beloved sister. Tomorrow, Phoebe would move to Raleigh. It wasn’t so very far, but I would miss her greatly.
The end of my indenture would not only bring freedom. It would also bring reunion.
* * *
I was anxious to leave for my mother’s farm, but Mrs. Pratt and the children dawdled over breakfast.
The morning chores didn’t go smoothly, either. Nerves had made me clumsy. The dishes refused to dry. The vegetables refused to lie still while I hacked at them.
From my vantage point at the worktable, I watched Dorcas exit the main house, holding hands with Delilah and Dinah. Instead of entering the kitchen, she circled around the side. I threw the vegetables into the stew kettle, covered a platter of sliced bread with a cloth, and changed aprons.
Dorcas spoke from the rear door. “Will you give me a lesson in writing? I should like to practice my z’s.”
“Not today.”
“Are you going somewhere?”
For the first time, I found her inquisitive nature to be irritating. “My mother’s house.”
She eyed me skeptically. “You went there yesterday. Why do you return?”
“I thought I might check for peaches.”
She glanced at the dishes waiting on the worktable. “Will you be here for dinner?”
“Naturally.” I set the jar of spicy apple butter next to the platter of bread. “Dinner will be ready on time.”
Her mouth pinched in a warning. “Mama expects Papa back today.”
“She’ll be glad to see him,” I said with a falsely casual shrug. Since I didn’t know precisely where Mr. George Pratt lived, I couldn’t know how long it would take for my master to drive home. Perhaps, if we were fortunate, it would be as late as supper time. I would welcome the new supplies he would bring, if not his return.
I shooed the girls with my hands. “Now, young ladies, off with you. Find some shade and play school.”
Dorcas swung around, dragging two little sisters after her. “I shall be the teacher, and you may be my pupils.”
Once they had settled into mock spelling lessons under an oak, I darted to the trail in the woods. Within minutes, I arrived at the falls, certain I had gone unnoticed. Mark rose from the tall grasses as I approached.
“Hey,” he said with a big smile. “Ready?”
“Indeed.” I drank in the sight of him. It was lovely to be with him in the middle of the day, speaking as friends, not hidden in the shadows of a cave. “You have found a waistcoat.”
He patted the striped fabric covering his chest. “My mother’s. Great, huh?”
“Adequate is the word I would have chosen.” I gestured toward the trail. “Let us hurry. I don’t wish to be gone long.”
“Fine with me.” He took off, his black shoes kicking up dust.
As I trotted along beside him, I pondered how this day would proceed. There were, of course, problems that might arise, but I had thought through them all. If my mother and sister expressed concern about traveling with a stranger, I would reassure them. Mark could be both their guide and protector. If Mama balked at leaving Phoebe with a family besides the Etons, Mark could say we took too long to claim it, and they had filled the position with someone else.
If any other problems came up, Mark or I would solve them, because we must. Phoebe couldn’t remain in Worthville.
“Mark, there are some things you should know about today.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
It would be best to get this over with quickly and avoid any lengthy discussions.
“I didn’t tell my family about you.”
“Why not?”
“I was afraid they might refuse to go.”
He stopped walking. I did not.
“Susanna?”
I strained to hear his footsteps but heard no movement. He had ceased to follow. I spun to face him. “What is it?”
“Were you planning to introduce us and wave goodbye?”
“Yes. It is the only way.”
“They have to come willingly.”
“They will be excited. They will take the trip.” I continued down the path.
He caught up. “What if you’re wrong?”
“I shall be persuasive, and you’ll be charming.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.” He sidestepped a snake that slithered with whip-like speed into a tiny hole. “What else do I need to know?”
“I told Mama that Phoebe has a position with the Etons.”
“What?” He halted again, this time catching my elbow and pulling me to a stop. “Why did you lie about something so major? It’ll be obvious when we get to Raleigh and the last name is Palmer, instead.”
I tugged my arm from his grasp. “If I must deceive them to get them there, it cannot be helped.”
“Great. You’ll be here while I’m the one dealing with two pissed-off women.”
“I am sure you will handle the situation with competence.” I resumed my walk.
It didn’t take much longer to arrive at the farmhouse. Phoebe waited on the porch. She started to run toward me but slowed when her gaze fell on Mark.
“Don’t speak unless you must,” I said to him, too quietly for my sister to hear.
“You don’t need to worry about that. I want you to do the talking.”
I went ahead of him and held out a hand to my sister. “I am glad to see you’re ready.”
She slipped her hand in mine, her gaze trained on my companion. “Who is this man, Susie?”
“He’s a friend of mine.”
“Why is he here?”
“He’s from Raleigh. He’ll be the guide for today’s trip.”
I studied her with a critical eye. My sister was growing into a remarkable beauty. While we shared the same wide, dark eyes as our father, there the resemblance ended. Her hair was a shimmering gold, her body slight. Wearing a bodice she’d embroidered with birds and ivy, Phoebe looked quite grown-up. Perhaps no one would ask her age. I certainly couldn’t afford to have Mr. Pratt see her looking this lovely and mature.
“Mark knows where your new master and mistress live.”
“Mama told me you found a job.” She scowled. “It is too soon. I am still learning to spin.”
“It’s the best time. There are many families in Raleigh who need your skills now.”
“They would like it if I could spin, too.”
I stared at Phoebe in surprise. She had never challenged me before. Did this bode ill for the rest of the morning?
My mother came out onto the porch. She wore a new green jacket over her best gown, and a straw bonnet trimmed with blue ribbons. The pink of excitement glowed in her cheeks. She took a few steps forward but stopped as she caught sight of Mark.
“Susanna?”
I forced a calm smile to my lips. “Mr. Lewis, this is my mother, Mrs. Anne Crawford. Mama, Mr. Lewis. He’ll accompany you and Phoebe.”
“Why?”
“Mr. Lewis is a friend of mine.” I smiled confidently. “He’s familiar with Raleigh. I think it’s wise to have a man for protection on the journey.”
Mark coughed.
“I suppose you are right.” My mother nodded curtly. “Are we taking the wagon?”
“Certainly. It would be too miserable to walk.”
“Will he drive or will you?”
“He will.”
“No, I won’t,” Mark said from beside me. “I’ve never driven a wagon.”
Unease whispered down my spine. They used bikes and horseless wagons in his century. It was a foolish oversight on my part not to have considered this information earlier. I nibbled my knuckle, pondering what to do.
My mother dismissed the problem with a wave of her hand. “You may drive, then.”
I took a deep breath and braced for the argument that was about to ensue.
“Naturally, I cannot come. I have chores to return to.”
Phoebe’s chin thrust forward stubbornly. “I shall not go without you. Mr. Lewis might be your friend, but he is a stranger to me.”
“I agree with Phoebe. You must come,” my mother said, her voice uncharacteristically firm.
I pressed my lips together, biting back words of anger. It wouldn’t be wise to lose my patience with them.
“I cannot leave Worthville without the Pratts’s permission.”
“Very well,” Mama said, “we shall seek permission. We can stop at their house first. I shall make it right with Drusilla Pratt.”
I directed a despairing glance at Mark. It was a perfectly logical suggestion and one which I must avoid no matter what. The trip would be abandoned if Mrs. Pratt knew, and my only chance to save Phoebe would be lost forever.
Fear lodged like a hard knot in my chest. I would accompany them, and the consequences would be grave.
“If we are gone a brief time, perhaps it will be acceptable.”
“Are you sure…?” my mother began.
“Indeed, Mama.” I gave her a determined nod. “We are wasting the daylight. I shall hitch the horse.”
Mark fell into step beside me as I walked to the barn. “What will happen to you?”
“I don’t know.” My fears could be dealt with later. For the next few hours, it was my sister’s future that concerned me most.
The wagon ride did nothing to improve my spirits.
I was weary of staring at a horse’s rump. The hard ruts of the Raleigh Road rocked our small wagon from side to side, rattling my teeth until they ached. In the back, Phoebe talked to Mark. I couldn’t make out their words, annoying me greatly. Whatever reluctance Phoebe had experienced before the trip, she had certainly lost her concerns quickly.
My mother slept, her head bumping against my shoulder.
Agitation ruined my pleasure in the journey. Here I was, in a lovely forest under a clear sky, traveling with my mother, sister, and dearest friend, as if on a summer outing. My first trip to Raleigh should have been a treat, yet foreboding wrapped around me like a stifling woolen cloak. My mistress would be outraged when I didn’t return for dinner. If I didn’t reappear by the time my master arrived, the Pratts might sound the alarm. I had no reasonable explanation for my long absence.
The road crested a hill. Raleigh spread out below us.
I halted the horse. “Mama, wake up.”
Phoebe stood in the wagon’s back, her hands gripping my shoulder as she cooed with delight. “I’ve never seen a town so big.”
“Nor have I,” my mother said.
I couldn’t speak, overcome with awe.
With a flick of the reins, we rumbled down the Raleigh side of the ridge and joined the people and wagons streaming along wide streets, heading toward the center of the city. Everywhere there were houses and stores under construction. The noise was fearsome: hammers pounding, carts creaking, horses snorting. Sawdust floated in the air. Shopkeepers bargained with ladies carrying baskets. Meat roasted on an open hearth.
Raleigh was busy and loud, and I loved it at first sight.