Chapter Two

Josie Freeman stood at the rail of the Intrepid and eyed the coastline toward which the ship struggled. Well-forested, rugged and green, to her eyes it looked like the back of beyond, or maybe the ends of the earth. She knew it couldn’t be the end, though. They were meant to sail on still farther northward, if only the captain and crew could get the ship set right.

At the thought, her stomach roiled within her once more. She stood at the rail for a reason—no fit sailor, she. The sickness had barely left her alone since they’d embarked at Philadelphia, and last night’s storm had about finished her.

Northward, northward…the word repeated in her head like a magical charm as it had for so long. Ever since that terrible night they’d left the plantation with fear on their backs, running through fields, hiding in barns and the occasional safe house until eventually making their way to Philadelphia.

Josie lifted her chin in an unconscious gesture of resolve. They had lost—and gained—so much along the way. Rainie had died on the trail somewhere south of Pennsylvania, taking a big piece of Josie’s heart with her.

She blinked away tears even now, remembering. With bloodhounds on their trail, they’d barely paused long enough to bury the old woman who’d been like a grandmother to Josie.

But, she reminded herself, they’d gained their freedom, purchased by Rainie and so many others.

She gazed across the deck of the ship at her father, who stood speaking with the captain. Well, then, Daniel Freeman was not in truth her father—just her mother’s husband. He’d taken the name “Freeman” on all their behalf when they reached Pennsylvania, putting that other, hated name behind them.

Daniel it was who’d kept them strong, even as Rainie had given them heart. Josie’s brother, Michael, lent them determination with his unflinching will to live free; his wife, Eunice, and their child, Hetty, gave Josie the only sense of family she could claim.

Still together, the five of them were now indeed destined for the unknown—a former slave settlement in another world called Nova Scotia that lay beyond Josie’s imagining. In a foreign country, it was, and Mrs. Hobbs from the Society of Friends back in Philadelphia, who had helped them for so long, claimed they would at last be beyond the reach of the hate that dogged them.

Josie shivered in the hot, humid air. She didn’t believe that yet—dared not—for she could feel hate right here aboard ship with them. It sounded in the whispers of the crew, showed in their sidelong glances and the talk she’d overheard about bad luck and curses. Some of the sailors thought it was courting misfortune to have them aboard, even claimed a hex had summoned up last night’s storm that left the Intrepid damaged and limping.

Daniel crossed the deck to Josie’s side. His intelligent gaze inspected her kindly before he said, “How you feeling, child? Better?”

Josie shook her head. “We need to get off this ship. I can feel the ill will.”

Daniel didn’t argue it; he respected Josie’s instincts and intuition, understood that when she felt things they all too often proved true.

“Captain says we can put in at a town just ahead. Claims it’s a quiet place where nobody will get wind of us. Once the ship’s repaired, we’ll sail on to the Weaver Settlement.”

But Josie didn’t want to sail on; everything inside her railed against it. “And what’s there for us, do you know?”

Daniel shrugged and put his arm around her. “Freedom, I hope. A new life.”

Freedom and hope. Both seemed so very distant. Josie closed her eyes and leaned into Daniel’s quiet strength.

“I’m tired, Daniel. And sick. Not so sure I can go on.” She would have been happy staying in Philadelphia—or, if not happy, at least content. She’d had a job there and had even started making friends among others of the freed community. No sooner had she begun to feel secure, though, than word came—Massa Collingwood had sent men after them, paid men. Slave hunters.

But, she’d protested when they told her, she and her family were no longer slaves. Supposedly they’d been emancipated. Of course that was just on paper, and in her heart Josie knew it for untruth. They were slaves so long as their former owner considered them his property, in defiance of the law—and sent men to hunt down and recapture them.

Folk still got recaptured every day. Josie had heard the harrowing stories of men dragged away from new wives, women torn from their children’s arms and smuggled off in the night, never to be seen again.

Josie swallowed a gout of sickness. She knew Buford Collingwood, knew that if he’d sent men after them it was out of combined arrogance and spite.

Hadn’t he sold Josie’s ma away for the same reasons?

The Intrepid lurched as the crew struggled to bring her round to the land. Daniel steadied Josie against his shoulder. The green, forested shore—all rock and high bluffs—suddenly opened up like a lover reaching his arms to invite Josie in.

She saw a sheltered harbor with a long, wooden dock and a number of boats at anchor. Beyond it climbed the land and what must be this town Daniel mentioned, a series of dirt roads and houses. Josie’s wondering eyes even picked out the spire of a church.

She blinked. A pretty enough place, but would she be safe here?

No sooner had the question entered her mind than the clouds split overhead, the last of the night’s storm blowing away. Sunlight streamed down in ladders to kiss the town.

Daniel’s deep chuckle sounded in Josie’s ear. “There now, girl. You’re always going on about signs and portents. How’s that for an omen?”

“Good,” Josie had to admit.

His arm tightened around her. “Josie, honey, you know I love you like a daughter, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes, Daniel.”

“We’ve trod a hard path so far. But believe me when I tell you there’s better ahead—just like that sun coming through those clouds. You remember that, when you start feeling afraid, hear?”

Josie gazed into the old man’s face, and her heart swelled. Daniel might not be her father in truth, but as far back as she could remember he had always been there with his big, warm hands and his boundless kindness. A girl couldn’t ask for better.

And yes, she had to remember the blessings scattered in among all the hurts—had to keep looking for them, those little miracles that made it possible to go on.

Only some miracles—like Daniel—weren’t so small.

She scanned the rocky harbor again. Did this place hold anything for her? How could it? But if not, then why did she feel such a powerful pull toward it?

The captain, with his neat blue uniform and serious eyes, joined them at the rail.

“Sorry for the delay, folks. We’ll put in here and see what repairs are needed, get the ship mended as soon as we can, and be back underway. I know the rudder’s damaged, along with that mast. Hope there’s not much more.”

“Thank you, Captain Roberts. Will we be able to find lodging here?”

“I hope so, Mr. Freeman. Lobster Cove’s a small town, but often folks have rooms to let.”

Daniel nodded, but Josie could feel his doubt. Uncertainty ahead and the hounds following behind—it seemed not so much had changed since Virginia, after all.