But Granny continued as if Kelly hadn’t interrupted. “And thank you for always hearin’ our each and ever’ prayer. Amen.” She raised her head. “Now girls, I know you have a lot of questions, and I’ll answer ever’ one. But let’s talk of pleasant things whil’ we eat.”

  Kelly listened to the others chatter during supper, but her mind was in turmoil. She could not think of one word to contribute to the conversation.

  Finally, as they started washing dishes, Granny squeezed her shoulders. “Ask Kelly-honey. I can see the questions in her eyes.”

  “Do you know these men that have Papa?”

  “I don’t know for a fact,” Granny answered. “Did yo’ papa talk to you about yo’ mama, like he planned?”

  Kelly nodded.

  “Tell me everything he said.” Granny pushed Kelly to a kitchen chair. “Tell us while we finish the dishes.”

  Kelly told them everything she could remember. “Granny, tell me how you knew Mama.”

  “Let’s go in the living room, and I’ll tell you my story.” After they all settled on the sofa, Granny began. “I’ll start with the time I met yo’ papa. I can tell you the rest another day.”

  “Yo’ grandma, Miz Jackson, made me hide in the bushes once an’ watch when yo’ papa—‘course he weren’t yo’ papa then—but when he stopped to git some passengers, as we called ‘em. It were plenty dark, but I tried to memorize the shape of him an’ his boat. Then I thought of it often, so I could recall it.” Granny paused, lost in thought. “I can still recall it to this day, even his voice an’ his call of a hoot owl. That was our signal, you know.”

  “Miz Jackson said I needed to be prepared, in case something went wrong. I hoped an’ prayed the day would never come. But it did. One day, one of the neighbors came home from the war. He had lost an arm an’ walked with a terrible limp. It were one of the Becker boys. Homer was his name. He had always been sweet on yo’ mama. He came home in a terrible rage.

  “He blamed yo’ father for his bum leg an’ the loss of his arm. Made it sound like yo’ father done it personally. And ‘tweren’t possible. Yo’ father was dead before Homer even joined up. Then Homer took to blamin’ yo’ mama. Said if it weren’t for her, the war would never ‘a started.”

  “But that was nonsense!” interjected Becky, her face red with anger. “How could it have been Kelly’s mama’s fault?”

  “Of course, it were nonsense. But he still loved Kelly’s mama, you see. He loved her, an’ he hated her. He hated her because he knew she would never have him. But the more he told himself lies, the more his hate grew. The more his hate grew, the meaner he got, ‘specially to his slaves. An’ the meaner he got, the more lies he told himself. And then he started tellin’ the neighbors lies about yo’ mama and grandma.

  “I think the neighbors was suspicious, cause they weren’t sure if yo’ father and uncle, then later yo’ grandpa, if they was fightin’ for the North or the South. They came right out an’ asked a couple times, you see. But Miz Jackson, she always just told ‘em they was fightin’ for the Lord.

  “One day, several of Homer’s slaves ran away. They came right straight to yo’ mama an’ grandma for help. They had been badly beaten. It were two young girls. Homer, he set his dogs on ‘em. They led him right to our house.” Granny’s face had turned white, and she was trembling.

  Kelly grabbed Granny’s hand. “What happened, Granny? Tell me what happened. Did Homer do something to Mama?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Granny’s Story

  “DID HOMER HURT MAMA?” KELLY grabbed Granny’s trembling hands, as she relived the story she was telling them. “Was it Homer that killed mama, Granny?”

  “Yes, it were,” confirmed Granny. “Homer was in a drunken rage, like I have never seen. When his dogs followed his runaway slaves to yo’ mama’s house . . . it were too much. Yo’ grandma an’ mama went to the door when he got there. He shot ‘em both, soon as they opened the door. He started wailin’ as soon as he realized what he done. But it were too late.

  “I wanted to stay, but knew I couldn’t. Gathered up them two girls an’ you, Kelly. You was smiling an’ cooing. No idea what was going on, just as happy as ever. I grabbed up you an’ the quilt an’ the bundle we had ready. We went down to the cave. I hoped an’ prayed an’ prayed that soldier would come that night. We didn’t have much food and didn’t dare go back for more.

  “Late that night, my prayers were answered. I was standing just inside the cave, out of sight, when I heard a hoot owl. I was afraid the two slaves would not be able to make it over the rocks to the boat. They was beaten so bad, they almost didn’t make it to the cave earlier. But them two girls was willin’ to try. Very much afraid to go, even more afraid to stay.

  “Then in the distance, we heard the bayin’ of the hounds. I knew Homer had set ‘em on our trail. I knew we was almost out of time. Suddenly, I had to run to catch up with them two girls. They was down to the water an’ into the boat afore I could make it down there. They was so afraid.”

  Granny paused, lost in the memory of that horrible night. “Granny,” Kelly tugged on her hand. “What happened? Did the dogs catch up with you?”

  “No Honey-child. Yo’ papa, he knew the danger. I started to hand him the baby . . . you. But he grabbed me, baby, bundle an’ all an’ lifted us into the boat. Afore I even set down, we was off.

  “It was startin’ to get daylight afore anyone said a word. He told us where to go to the next station. Then I told him the baby was to be his new daughter. It were too dangerous to take you with me. He knew. Yo’ grandma had talked to him. He promised to take good care of you.

  “Oh, Kelly. It was so hard to hand you over to a stranger an’ not know if I would ever see you again this side of heaven. I was there when you was born. I was there when yo’ mama was born. I loved you like you was my own child.”

  “What happened then?” asked Becky. Kelly had almost forgotten she was there.

  “Yes, what happened? Is Homer one of the men that took my papa?” asked Kelly, anxiously.

  “No, Kelly. I very much doubt that Homer is involved here.”

  “But, Granny, do you know these bad men that took Papa?”

  “I have strong suspicions. An’ I told the sheriff everythin’ I know while you were gatherin’ things from my garden.”

  “Tell me about them,” begged Kelly.

  But Granny shook her head. “I’ve told you enough sadness for one night. I’ll tell you more tomorrow. For now, is the light ready for tonight?”

  Kelly nodded. “I got everything ready when I did the chores this morning.” She glanced out the window. The sun was beginning to set. “I need to go light it.”

  “Are all the doors locked?” asked Granny.

  “Yes, even the barn doors. And the animals are all securely inside.”

  “Then come,” said Granny. “Let’s see to the light.”

  “Oh, Granny, you don’t need to climb all those stairs. There are 78 of them!”

  “Do you plan to spend the night up there?” asked Granny.

  “Of course I have to, to tend the light.”

  “Then Becky and I will spend the night up there with you, won’t we, Becky?”

  “Of course. That’s why I came. Anyway it will be fun.”

  “Do we need to take some more bedding up there?” Granny asked.

  Later that evening, Kelly and Becky both insisted that Granny take the cot. Becky made up the beds, while Kelly lit the light.

  “The sunset is so beautiful across the ocean,” said Becky, gazing out the window to the town of Stone Haven. “We can’t see the sunset on the ocean from home.”

  Kelly wiped her hands on a rag and joined Becky at the window. “That’s one advantage of living on an island. Even Stone Haven looks pretty from here, doesn’t it?”

  Suddenly, Kelly saw a fleet of boats returning to the fishing village. “Papa!” she cried. “Maybe they found my papa.” She dashed to the stairs.

  A strong hand on her arm stopped her. “Easy, girl. If they found yo’ papa, they will let you know right away.” Granny pulled her over to the cot. “Sheriff Morley promised me. He knows the sheriff in New Freedom, Pennsylvania, where these men come from, if they are the same men. The sheriff thinks they are, an’ so do I. Sheriff Morley sent his friend a telegram early this mornin’. He plans to go out there himself if they don’t find anythin’.”

  “Granny, please tell me about those men!” Kelly pleaded. “I’m imagining all sorts of horrible things.”

  “All right, I’ll tell you,” Granny began. She sat on the cot beside Kelly. “Yo’ papa was engaged to marry a young lady. She wore his ring. It were a ring his own dear mother wore. But when he came home with a baby, she refused to even listen to his story. She threw the ring at him an’ told him never to come back.”

  “Oh, how horrible!” Kelly cried. “I broke up Papa’s marriage.”

  “Yes, you did,” confirmed Granny. “And what a blessing it was.”

  “A blessing? But Papa . . . ” Kelly was confused.

  “Listen to the rest of my story. Jesus had His hand in it. Yo’ papa told me hisself, it were a blessing he did not marry that woman. He would have become her personal slave.

  “But I’m getting ahead of myself. First, I want to tell you about what happened to me after we reached the first station. Everythin’ was going as it should. But the second station was a trap. Even though we were in a free state, there were some very bad men waitin’ at the second station. They wanted slaves to work in their factory.”

  “Are these the men that you think took Papa?”

  “The same. They was four brothers. Four very big an’ mean men. We were forced to work in their factory with very little light, even less heat, an’ very little food. We were also allowed very little rest.”

  “How could you survive?” asked Becky.

  “Many didn’t. That’s why they constantly needed more slaves. The worst was we thought we had gained our freedom. But for many of us, it was worse than our lives had been in the South.”

  “Oh, Granny!”

  “Yo’ papa, bless his dear heart, wanted to try to explain the situation. He thought she was a sweet, understandin’ girl. But she had been puttin’ on an act before. She was not sweet a’tall. She’s a sister to these evil men an’ worse than they are.

  “Yo’ papa went to her house. She was not there, but a maid was on her way to the factory with food an’ offered to take him to her, probably hopin’ to gain favor from her mistress. But she didn’t realize that no one was allowed in that factory. Yo’ papa walked in on her, beatin’ one of the girls. He saw me, an’ he saw we were all chained and workin’. I tried to motion to him not to do anythin’. I feared for his life an’ yours. That woman looked up and saw him. She saw him turn an’ leave without talkin’ to her.

  “I feared for all o’ us then. Wagons were brought an’ quickly loaded. By evenin’, the factory where we was weaving cloth was empty. Empty, except for a few dirty bundles here an’ there. We were all chained to the walls or floor. We were told we need to sleep in there that night.

  “I don’t think anyone slept. We knew somethin’ bad was about to happen. The two girls that came with me was chained on either side of me. Then late that night, I smelled smoke.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The Man with the Missing Arm

  “SOON AS I SMELLED SMOKE, some of the others smelled it, too,” Granny continued. “It were a horrible, horrible feeling, smellin’ smoke an’ knowin’ there were a fire, but chained an’ completely helpless to stop it or move out of its way.

  “Someone toward the front shouted, ‘Fire!’ an’ not long after, some toward the back shouted ‘Fire!,’ too. By then we could see it comin’ from both directions. People was screamin’. I started prayin’, hopin’ I was louder than them screams. Soon the girls beside me started prayin’ too. Then more stopped screamin’ and started prayin’.”

  “Oh, Granny! How horrid!” cried Kelly, clutching Granny’s hand tighter. She looked at Becky on the other side of Granny. Becky looked terrified and clung tightly to Granny’s other hand.

  “Then suddenly, through the smoke an’ fire, men came runnin’. They started swingin’ their axes. At first, I thought they’d come to kill us. Then I saw they was breakin’ them chains. Soon as one of us was loose, there was someone there to lead them to safety. But as fast as they loosened our chains, it seemed the fire was comin’ faster.

  “The girls an’ I was toward the center. By the time they reached us, there was smoke an’ fire all around us. The man took a swing at the chain of the girl to my right—it were Leah. As he took a swing, he was overcome with smoke. He started coughin’ and went down. The axe lay just outta reach. We just kept prayin’. The fire suddenly seemed to part an’ Lester—yo’ papa, Kelly—well, yo’ Papa Lester came through. He grabbed up the axe an’ in three quick slashes had us loose. But we couldn’t see where to go. We was surrounded by fire again. Lester, he told me, ‘Keep prayin’, Granny. Keep prayin’.’ An’ I did. So did the girls. Yo’ papa kept knockin’ at the wall with that axe, until he had a hole, big enough for us to get through.

  “Then he grabbed up the girls an’ me an’ one by one lifted us through the hole. Told us to run. But a stronger voice inside of me told me to stay. He pushed the other man through the hole. But I could see he was beginnin’ to sway. Soon as the other man dropped outside, I grabbed a hold o’ Lester’s arm an’ hung on. I screamed at the girls to help me. But we was all weak from the smoke an’ from the way we had been treated. We couldn’t budge him. We started to scream. It seemed to rouse him. He staggered to his feet an’ halfway fell out the hole. We could see his pants was on fire. Liz an’ Leah grabbed hold of his other arm an’ we pulled an’ pulled. Suddenly, he came tumblin’ out on top of us. Yo’ papa is a big man, Kelly.

  “Soon as I wiggled out from under him, I took my apron off an’ beat out the flames on Lester’s legs. By then, Liz and Leah were on their feet, too. The other man started coughin’. We was still too close to the fire. So we dragged first Lester, then the other man away.

  “Some men saw us an’ came to help. They took us all to a big buildin’, where they tended our wounds an’ gave us some good, hot food. That evenin’ we slept in that buildin’. There were soldiers standin’ guard and some dear women tendin’ the sick. They said no one died in the fire. But I didn’t know where Lester went. An’ I was so worried about you, Kelly.” Granny hugged both girls to her.

  “Where was Papa?” asked Kelly.

  “In a farm house, not far from there. The next morning, the soldiers started asking everyone where they wanted to go an’ then helped them on their way. Some was going to Michigan, some to Canada, and so on. Seemed everyone knew where they was going exceptin’ for me. Even Liz an’ Leah said they thought they had kin in Michigan.”

  “Oh, Granny,” said Becky, her blue eyes wet with tears. “What did you do?”

  “I prayed. Then before everyone else had left, Lester came striding in there, lookin’ for me. Yo’ papa was an answer to my prayers, Kelly. He offered me free room an’ board, plus a small wage, for babysittin’ you, Kelly. It were like a dream come true.”

  “Why did you move to Maine?” asked Kelly.

  “Yo’ papa changed his name an’ moved here, cause the sheriff in New Freedom told him, if the Blackburn brothers—that is those bad men—ever got loose, they’d come after him.”

  “What was Lester’s name before?” asked Becky.

  Granny sighed. “I thought he should have changed it more. It were Nelson Lessiter. He changed it to Lester Nelson.”

  “What do you think they are doing to him?” asked Kelly.

  Granny hugged her. “It’s better to not think about that. Let’s just pray. Okay?”

  After they prayed for Kelly’s papa’s safety, Granny suggested they all wrap themselves in blankets and tell stories. Kelly fixed hot chocolate for everyone, and then she snuggled close to her two friends.

  “Tell me about my mama,” she pleaded.

  Smiling, Granny started talking about Kelly’s mama’s childhood.

  Then Granny shook Kelly awake. “You girls need to go to bed. You’re falling asleep sitting up.”

  Kelly smiled drowsily as she and Becky crawled into the beds Becky had fixed up for them earlier. Kelly snuggled under the covers, thinking about the beautiful mansion where Mama had grown up. She could almost see the live oak trees and feel the warm breeze on her face as she drifted off to sleep.

  Through the night, as Kelly tended the light, she forced herself to remember Mama’s happy childhood, instead of wondering where Papa was. Yet she never fell asleep without praying for Papa’s safety. The deep, even breathing of the other two lulled her back to sleep easily enough.

  When Kelly woke up to tend to the light, she walked over to the windows to survey the ocean and she thought she saw the light of a sloop, bobbing in the distance. The waves were high again. A sloop that size would not survive long in these waves. What if it’s Papa? Kelly thought. But she dismissed the idea. Papa would pull ashore somewhere. He would know the dangers.

  Kelly made the rest of her rounds, then came back where she had last seen the light. It was no longer there. Kelly watched a while longer. The sky seemed to be darkening rapidly. A storm was moving in. Kelly prayed for the safety of the sloop and its occupants. She was almost sure she hadn’t imagined the light.

  Where was Papa? Was he still with the Blackburn Boys? Was he still alive? Kelly wrapped the baby quilt around her again, as she recalled the story Granny told her about the quilt. She could almost see her beautiful mama sewing the quilt, along with her grandma. Granny had helped, too.

  As she drifted back off to sleep, Kelly could almost see her mama as a young girl—her blonde braids flying out behind her, pumping her tanned legs, as she swung on her favorite swing beneath the big, live oak tree. In her mind she could hear her mama calling, “Higher, Homer, higher!” Out of nowhere, a barefoot boy came running, eagerly pushing the girl on the swing. The two children giggled together. The best of friends, Granny had said.

 

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