A Slave of the Shadows, page 13
“Thank you, but you didn’t have to.”
“Well, honestly, the other reason I came is I’m going into town today to pick up that new dress I told you about. The one I ordered from Paris. Would you like to join me?”
“Do you ever sit still, Whitney?” I teased.
“When I’m dead I will sit still. Until then…” She grinned.
“That settles it, then. We are off on another adventure.” I left the library with Whitney on my heels. In the hallway, she quickly beckoned for me to follow her upstairs.
In my room, Whitney tore open the parcel she had brought, revealing clothing for Georgia and Sam.
“Clever girl,” I said.
“Well, ya know!” she bragged, striking an exaggerated pose.
“Stop!” I giggled, giving her a playful shove.
Opening the closet door, I handed my hidden guests the clothing. When they were dressed, they emerged from the closet, and I filled them in on the plan.
“We will take you down the back stairs and through the sitting room, as the French doors open onto the back field. It’s our best chance of getting you out of the house without being seen. Once you get to the trees there is a trail you can follow, and it will take you out to the main road, where we will be waiting to pick you up. Understood?”
“Yessum,” Georgia replied, tightening her arm around her brother.
Whitney and I watched from the sitting room as Georgia and Sam ran toward the trees. I stood willing them to reach the tree line, and exhaled as they disappeared between the trunks.
Whitney quietly cheered. Then, grasping my hand, she said, “Let’s get on with it.”
WHITNEY DROVE THE WAGON THROUGH the gates and along the road toward the two humans lying in hiding, hoping for a chance at freedom. Minutes down the road we came to the path I knew all too well from the many years I’d used it to escape Father’s disapproving eye.
“It’s clear,” I called out as the wagon halted.
Two eager faces appeared. Georgia and Sam emerged and dashed to the back of the wagon, keen to get out of sight. Then Whitney urged the horses into a trot.
Reaching town, we headed to the dock in search of Knox. Whitney and I had decided it was worth the risk. I knew Knox to be a man of integrity. A little piece of me was also counting on his growing affection for Whitney. We would use whatever measures necessary to secure his help. Since Knox worked on the ships in the harbor, it made our chances of getting our cargo out on a ship to New York or Boston high. We were taking a leap of faith on Knox, but had no other options or ideas.
Whitney trotted off to find Knox, leaving me with the wagon. Hours seemed to pass as I waited. I became antsy as the time ticked by. What is taking so long? We are sitting ducks here. I grew increasingly fidgety. Then I saw her, and Knox came trailing behind.
“Your father’s ship, the Olivia II, leaves in a few hours, headed for New York,” she whispered. “Knox agreed to help us get them safely aboard.”
“Father’s ship! Are you crazy?”
“Shh!” Whitney warned, glancing around.
I felt sick. What were they thinking? Father would kill me if he found out. Literally! They had signed my death warrant.
I looked to Knox as he approached. Sweat beaded his forehead. “How are we getting them on the ship?” I asked, fearing I was about to hyperventilate.
“Leave it to me. I’ll handle it. Pull your wagon around to the warehouse at the far end of the dock and I’ll meet you there.” He turned and headed back the way he’d come.
We complied, then waited and waited for Knox to come back. Had we been wrong to trust him? I glanced at Whitney. She was biting her lower lip and trying not to pace—she’d take one or two deliberate steps, then stop, arms stiff at her sides, shoulders hunched, and visibly force herself to relax. I worried that the longer we sat in the open, the more attention we would draw. From my seat on the wagon bench, I looked around. Knox, where are you?
Minutes later, I caught sight of him strolling toward us with a burlap sack slung over his shoulder. I blew out a breath. The barrel-chested brute of a man was the best thing I’d ever seen.
“Knox, what took you so long?” Whitney growled, coiled like a tiger ready to pounce on its prey.
“Land sakes, girl. You can’t send them without any food.”
“Oh.” Whitney lowered her eyes.
Knox added an, “Oh,” and looked at us, offended. “You two thought I snitched on you, didn’t you?”
“You were taking so long we got concerned. It’s not like we dropped this into your lap after giving you time to digest it all,” I retorted.
He brushed it off. “We need to hurry.” He opened the locked door to the warehouse with a key. I wondered about his access to the key, but we had no time for the little details. My agitation was growing by the minute, and we needed to get out of sight.
“Come on, it’s safe.” Whitney slapped the side of the wagon.
I didn’t know if it was my nerves or my mind playing tricks yet again, but the hair rose on the back of my neck along with the ghostly feeling of eyes on me. I cast a quick glance around before urging the slaves to move. “Hurry, inside now.” I grabbed a dawdling Sam and lifted him from the wagon.
The building looked to have been vacant for years. It was gray with a heavy layer of dust and cobwebs. Several large crates were stacked off to the side. Knox nodded toward them. “We’ll use one of those crates to get them aboard the ship.” He then addressed Georgia. “Once you know the ship has left the dock and you are a few hours into your journey, there are tools in this sack to pry the crate open. There is enough food for a week in here too, if you portion it right. After that, you are on your own.”
“Bless you all!” Georgia cried, tears welling in eyes that gleamed with hope as she wrapped an arm around her brother.
I smiled at her, then rested my gaze on Sam. Stepping forward, I cupped his chin in my hand and looked into his innocent eyes. “Go find your freedom, young Sam. Make a difference in this world.” With the tip of my index finger, I lightly tapped the end of his nose.
“I will, Miss Willow.” His smile reached his eyes.
“All right, you girls need to move that wagon out of here. A friend who works alongside me will be here any minute to help load the crate onto the ship.”
“He won’t think it’s strange that you have a crate going out of this vacant warehouse?” Whitney asked.
“No, too many years of taking opium has made him simple in the head, but he is strong as an ox. Now, move that wagon out of here.” He wiped his hands on his pants.
We got the wagon away from the dock and hidden from any curious eyes. Then we went to the dock cafe and found a seat by a window where we had a clear view of the Olivia II. We had no appetite, but ordered anyway. We needed to blend in. Whitney tried to make light conversation, and I did my best to follow. But my stomach was knotted with worry. We picked at our food as we waited.
Lunch turned into tea and dessert as we endured the next two hours. Whitney’s feet were mindlessly tapping a staccato rhythm on the floor beneath our table. The noise was drawing attention. I reached under the table and placed my hand on her knee to quiet her restless legs.
I spotted Knox first. He was stopped at the bottom of the ship’s gangplank. The ship guard must be questioning him. The guard walked around the crate Knox and his friend carried on their shoulders, inspecting it. My churning stomach threatened to spill my lunch, and I covered my mouth to suppress it.
The ship guard stepped aside and allowed Knox and his helper to pass. Whitney and I shared a look of relief. I slumped back in my seat, staring into space. They had made it that far, but they still weren’t out of danger yet.
Another hour ticked by before the ship left the dock. When the ship was but a speck in the ocean, we paid the bill and left.
Knox appeared out of nowhere wearing a look of triumph. “Well, Whitney, now I expect you to hold up your end of the bargain.” He grinned deviously.
“Yes,” she said, her face turning rosy. She promptly climbed onto the wagon.
I glanced from Knox to Whitney in puzzlement.
“Let’s go, Willow,” she said in a tight voice that discouraged any discussion on the topic.
Knox offered me a hand up and with a wave, we were off.
“Do you mind telling me what your end of the bargain is?”
Whitney’s hands clenched the reins and she looked at me with narrowed eyes. “I agreed to allow him to pay me a few visits.”
“A few?” I said, arching a brow.
Exasperated, she replied, “I agreed to one at first. Then he tried to bargain with me to start a courtship. After we dickered back and forth, it was settled at a few visits.”
I laughed. Why, Knox Tucker, you sly old fox. He was brilliant and I loved it.
Whitney glared at me and jabbed my ribs with her fingers, sending me into further fits of laughter.
Bowden
HE KNEW SOMETHING WAS GRAVELY wrong the day he came home from school to find his grandpa sitting with his face buried in his hands. He moved slowly toward him.
“Grandpa, is everything all right?”
His grandfather looked up at him, his eyes burdened with an unfathomable grief. He pulled a patterned handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose loudly. “Sit down. I need to tell you something.”
Bowden sat down and waited for his grandpa to speak. The silence was palpable, the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner unnaturally loud.
Clearing his throat, his grandpa spoke. “There is no easy way to say this, Bowden—” His voice broke. Bowden recalled the way his grandpa’s hands shook uncontrollably as he said, “There has been a terrible accident, son. Father and Mother have left us and made the journey on to heaven.”
He sat unmoving, focusing on his grandpa’s face as it floated farther and farther away. He heard the muffled sound of his grandfather’s voice but couldn’t decipher the words coming out. Stone, his three-year-old brother, and Bowden had been left in their grandpa’s care while their parents were away. Guilt-ridden, now he thought back to the morning his parents had left. In the wee hours of the morn, his mother had come to his room. Annoyed at being awakened, he’d grumbled as the light of the lantern shone in his eyes.
“What?” he whined.
“We are leaving, love. I wanted to kiss you goodbye and tell you I love you.”
“I love you too,” he mumbled between yawns.
“I want you to stay out of trouble and help Grandpa with Stone.”
“I know, Mother,” he said, wishing for the light to go away so he could return to his slumber.
His father darkened the doorway. “Bowden, mind your manners,” his father said sternly. He’d been a laid-back kind of father, but stepped in to back up his wife in her discipline of them.
“Yes, Father,” he said with a hint of sarcasm.
His parents hugged and kissed him goodbye. Bowden had been too selfish to care and hadn’t let them know how much he loved them. As they left his room his mother turned one last time and smiled, her eyes shining with love and admiration. “I’m proud of the young man you are becoming, Bowden. I’ll miss you.”
“I know.” He threw his pillow over his eyes to ward off the light. Why was she always such a sentimental woman, with her “I love you” every day and her over-the-top number of hugs? She didn’t need to restate it every day. He wanted her to get out of his room and let him sleep.
Stone had not truly understood that they were gone. He asked for their mother and father from time to time. Then the images of them faded from his small mind. Bowden swore to live every day to the fullest, and love Stone as they would have. He realized the importance of what his mom had done. She told her boys every day how much she cared. The words of his mother had healed his heart of the unbearable guilt and shame he carried for his behavior the last time he saw them alive.
After his parents’ death, his grandpa sold the family’s properties in Texas and moved them to Charleston. He purchased a plantation that needed a lot of fixing up and owned fewer than twenty slaves. His grandpa had been a very smart businessman and turned the run-down plantation into a thriving business. He always said, “Profit is key. You treat the slaves right, and they will return it tenfold. You mistreat them, you may as well burn your money.” Bowden took his advice to heart.
Bowden wanted to be a doctor and his grandpa sent him off to the University of Pennsylvania to study. He received his degree as a medical doctor and had plans to travel back to Charleston to spend the summer with his grandfather and Stone when word came that his grandfather had pneumonia.
Bowden returned in time to see his grandfather before he passed, but now Stone and Bowden were again left without a guardian. He gave up his dreams of being a doctor to take on the responsibilities of running the plantation. He had shadowed his grandfather as he’d run the plantation over the years and understood the basics of running one. Soon he found that he had inherited the instincts that had made his grandfather a savvy businessman.
The Armstrong Plantation thrived under his dedication and became a little town of its own. He believed in giving the slaves a reason to walk with purpose. On his plantation, the slaves with families had their own cabins. Slaves were allowed to have gardens to supply extra food for their families. Some slaves had a few hogs and chickens. Marriage between slaves was openly permitted. He strictly forbade his overseers to abuse the slaves. He struggled to find employees who were willing to abide by his guidelines. He began to lean more on Gray. Gray was a man of quality and wisdom, driven by a desire to learn.
Today Bowden waited by the dock for Knox. Knox was always slow as cold molasses. He did things at his own pace, forcing the world to wait for him. Finally he spotted Knox sauntering along without a care in the world. From his seat on his horse, Bowden watched him. This monstrosity of a man with hands the size of bear paws was as harmless as a newborn calf. He was soft-spoken, and there was a goodness about him that drew you in.
When Knox couldn’t be found at the ship docks he was often at the Armstrong Plantation. Knox lived simply in a humble apartment over the general store. Bowden had offered him land to build a house, but Knox refused. He walked through life without responsibilities and found contentment in his work at the docks. Bowden couldn’t relate to this side of his friend. Financially securing a future for his brother, himself, and hopefully one day a wife had become Bowden’s own purpose in life.
“Afternoon, Bowden,” Knox said when he got closer.
“Hello, Knox. It’s about time you rolled out of bed.”
Knox scoffed at the gibe.
Bowden dismounted, smiling fondly at him. “What have you been up to, old friend?”
“Well, there is something I’ve been meaning to share with you.” Knox’s expression grew serious.
His seriousness put Bowden on alert. When Knox wasn’t teasing and carrying on, it meant something major had happened, or was about to.
“All right,” Bowden said, not sure if he wanted to hear what Knox said next.
Knox motioned him to follow him to an area off the busy street. There, Knox glanced around before focusing on Bowden. “Willow and Whitney were in town a few days back. They came to me with a sticky situation.”
“What sticky situation?”
“You know Willow; she’s had a mind of her own all our lives. Well, Whitney and Willow came upon some runaways out at the Barry Plantation. The master of the slaves was trying to do ungodly things to the young boy, and the sister ran with him. The girls hid them until they could help them get away.”
“They did what?” Bowden blurted loudly before he caught himself, and in a hushed tone asked, “Where are the slaves now?”
“We put them on a ship headed to New York.”
Bowden removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. He kicked at the dirt with his brand-new cognac-colored boot. He cursed under his breath and paced a few circles before coming back to stand in front of Knox. “Do you realize the danger they put you all in?”
“What was I supposed to do? They came to me already neck-deep in trouble,” Knox shot back.
Bowden knew Knox was helpless against the spitfire Willow and probably half scared of the outspoken Miss Barry. Helpless bastard.
“Bowden, relax, it’s done. Ain’t no use you getting all worked up over it now,” Knox said, putting a hand on his shoulder.
Bowden gave him a sour look and exhaled, twisting his neck side to side, trying to relieve the tension tightening it. “Knox, you could have been in a pile of trouble if you got caught. I hope this isn’t going to become a habit of Willow’s and Whitney’s. Because next time it may not go so smoothly.”
“Those two are quite the team.” Knox chuckled in admiration. “One is as fiery as the next. But Whitney—” He whistled and let out a whoop. “It would take some kind of man to tame that one.”
“Well, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you have taken a mighty liking to Miss Barry.”
The tops of Knox’s ears reddened and he shrugged. “I find her interesting; no man would ever be bored with a woman like her. Besides, she does all the talking. I’d never have to worry about odd silences anymore.”
“That is true. Maybe you will call on her one day?”
Knox released a booming laugh. “You have underestimated me, my friend,” he said.
“Have I?” Bowden lifted an eyebrow.
“Well, you don’t think I helped them out of the kindness of my heart, do you?”
“Yes, of course I do.” He was all too aware of Knox’s soft side.
Knox widened his stance as if to accentuate his manliness and said, ever the jokester, “She couldn’t resist me so I told her I would allow her to court me.”
Bowden threw back his head and roared. “I bet you did, Knox. I bet you did.”
Knox grinned.
“Get your horse and I’ll meet you on the road home,” Bowden said.
Usually Knox’s lightheartedness set the mood for the day, but Bowden’s thoughts dwelt on what Knox had told him as he mounted his black stallion and made his way through town.
