Belle (15 page)

“I see. So maybe, once I learn to read, I could go on and learn everything I can about sewing?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Belle found that interesting.

“Did you still wish to begin tonight?”

She shook her head. “No. It’s been a pretty long day. I was real upset when I asked you earlier, but I’m better now. How about tomorrow, after church?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he agreed. Silence settled between them again, then a few moments later Daniel asked, “Did you hear about Jojo going at it with Francine?”

Belle answered carefully. “I heard bits and pieces. I wasn’t there, though.”

“One of Mama’s friends was, and she said Jo accused Francine of seeing the new teacher behind my back.”

“Really?” Belle answered, hoping she sounded innocent enough.

“Yes.”

“Do you think it’s true?”

He shrugged. “I know Jo and Franny don’t get along, but Jojo wouldn’t make up something like that.”

“No, she wouldn’t.”

He shook his head. “She’s a pest sometimes, but she isn’t a liar.”

“And so?”

“So?” He shrugged again.

Belle’s heart went out to him. “Did you speak with Francine?”

“No, she was gone by the time I got back from walking the Morgans to their carriage. They both said to tell you good-bye, by the way, and thanks for all the biscuits.”

“They’re welcome.”

Daniel continued his chain of thought. “Francine leaving was probably best, though. After that mess with you, I wasn’t speaking to her anyway.”

Belle was glad to hear that. “So what are you going to do?”

“Tell her I don’t want to marry her anymore.”

Belle studied his face as well as she could in the dark. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Don’t you want to give her a chance to tell her side?”

“I’ve tried, but every time I go by her house, Hodges says she’s not home. Two plus two is always four, Belle. No matter how you add it up.”

“I’m sorry it worked out this way, Daniel.”

He didn’t reply. “In a way, I am, too, but in a way, I’m not.”

Their eyes met, and all those unspoken words and feelings returned. Belle wondered what would happen now that Francine no longer stood between them. When he leaned her way and kissed her softly on the forehead, the sweet feeling made her eyes close.

“Thanks for listening, Belle. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

For Belle, the kiss coupled with seeing him draped against the stars made her wish he would stay, but she knew it wasn’t proper for them to be out here this way, so she whispered back, “Good night, Daniel.”

And he was gone.

The next afternoon, on the ride home from church, Belle received further news of her father. According to the communications received by the committee, he’d been moved to a safer location, just as Mr. Best predicted. In the month since his escape, the conductors in Ohio were slowly bringing him North, but because slave-catcher gangs were still prowling the main roads from Dayton to Toledo, a direct route to Michigan was out of the question, so he had to be taken Northeast first to avoid detection.

As Mr. Best drove them over the bumpy road, he told Belle, “At last report they’re heading to Ashtabula.”

Belle asked, “Where is that?”

“Northeast Ohio,” Mrs. Best replied. “We lovingly call Ashtabula Mother Hubbard’s Cupboard.”

Belle thought it a funny name. “Why?”

“After a conductor there—a White man named Colonel William Hubbard.”

Daniel told her, “Ashtabula’s one of the safest hiding places on the road. The folks there take abolition very seriously.”

His father added, “The newspaper there once declared, ‘The voice of the people is, Constitution or no Constitution, law or no law, no fugitive slave can be taken from the soil of Ashtabula County back to slavery.’”

Daniel finished the quote, “And—if anyone doubts this real sentiment, they can easily test it.”

Belle was impressed.

Jojo smiled Belle’s way before asking her father, “Where will Belle’s papa go after that?”

“Well,” her father said, “they’ll probably put him on a steamer and take him to Canada first, then he’ll come here.”

Belle asked, “A steamer?”

“Yes, we’ve a few lake captains working for our side. In fact, Colonel Hubbard has a tunnel that runs from his barn to the shore of Lake Erie and he rows his freight out to the ships.”

Belle never knew the tendrils of the Underground Railroad extended even out to the water. Where would escaped slaves be without the help of so many people of all races? “So do you have any idea how long it will be before I see him?”

Mr. Best replied, “Truthfully, no.”

Belle tried not to let her disappointment show. After all, her father was alive and, so far, still free. She knew the conductors were moving him along as quickly and as safely as they could, but Lord, she wished they’d hurry so she could see with her own eyes that he was alive and well.

After
the return from church, Daniel and Belle began her lessons. It was a nice warm June afternoon so they took advantage of the weather and sat in the sun on the steps of the back porch. Once they were comfortable, Daniel put a sheaf of paper atop a thin, book-sized piece of wood, and began to print a series of letters.

Belle watched. “What’s it say?” she asked curiously.

“Belle Palmer,” he told her. He showed it to her, then pointed out each letter. “B-E-L-L-E P-A-L-M-E-R.”

Belle took the wood from his hand and closely examined what he’d written on the paper. None of the curves and stick figures meant a thing. “I’ve never seen my name before.”

When she looked up, Daniel wondered if she knew how beautiful she was. “Well, that’s what it looks like. Hand me the board back.”

Belle did, then looked on as he made a lot more sticks and curves. He told her, “This is the alphabet. There are twenty-six letters, and they make up all the letters in all the words.”

“Only twenty-six. For some reason, I imagined there’d be many more.”

“Nope. Just twenty-six.”

He handed her the board. Belle took a moment to look at the twenty-six letters, and then told Daniel firmly, “I can do this.”

His eyes shone with approval. “I don’t doubt it for a minute.”

So for the next few days, Belle spent all of her time working with the letters of the alphabet, and practiced printing her name. Everyone in the Best household pitched in to help, but all stayed within the parameters of Daniel’s prepared lessons. In reality, he was the most educated person in the family. His Oberlin certificate made him amply qualified to teach, and so everyone deferred to him as to how best to teach Belle.

By the end of June, Belle had all the letters memorized, and could call them out by sight. Mrs. Best refused to let her do any housework, saying Belle had a more important job to do. No amount of protesting from Belle would make Cecilia change her mind, so Belle gave up and went back to her lessons.

A few days later, Daniel was out at the pump washing off the sawdust when he saw Belle running toward him. She was waving a piece of paper and calling excitedly. Smiling because she seemed so happy, he waited for her approach. When she got near enough, she stuck the paper in his face. “Look, I did it. All by myself!”

Daniel saw that she’d written her name.
Belle Palmer.
The letters were a bit crude, but that didn’t matter; she’d get better. He smiled proudly. “Congratulations. Did you show this to Mama?”

“No. I wanted you to see it first.”

She looked ecstatic and he felt the same way. Next thing he knew, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the cheek. “Thank you, Daniel. Thank you so much! I have to go show your mother.”

In a flash of blue skirts she was gone. Daniel, bowled over by the fact that she’d kissed him, watched her flight with a smile in his eyes and in his heart.

The month of June slid into the warm hot, hazy days of July, and just as Daniel predicted, July fourth was not celebrated. It passed as just another day. By mid-July, Belle was ready to tackle the basic rudiments of reading. She found it much harder than printing or learning the alphabet because it all seemed so confusing. Take the letter
e,
for instance. Belle couldn’t understand why it did so many things to so many words. It could turn
tap
into
tape
and
hop
into
hope.
When it stood beside the letter
i,
it had the power to turn
nice
into
niece,
and sometimes, it made the letter
y
take its place, as in the words
early
and
curly.
Belle found all the rules and the exceptions to the rules frustrating. She was disheartened at times, but she didn’t give up.

Daniel enlisted the Morgan brothers to help with Belle’s classical education. Before opening the area’s general store, their mother and late father had been teachers in Canada and thus had a very extensive library. The Morgans had books that opened Belle’s world to famous works of art and to people in faraway lands. They read her fables and myths, sonnets and limericks. Learning with them was fun for Belle but she couldn’t help but notice that neither of the brothers was as playful or as happy-go-lucky as he’d been before their kidnapping.

At the end of one of their sessions, Belle walked Jeremiah back to the wagon parked in front of the house. He’d come alone today. Adam had stayed to help at the store. “Thanks again,” she told him as he climbed up into the seat.

“You’re welcome.” Jeremiah picked up the reins. He looked down at Belle. “Can I ask you something?”

He seemed so serious, and his eyes were so bleak, Belle nodded. “Yes.”

“How’d you survive it?”

She knew what he meant. Slavery. “I didn’t know anything else.”

He looked off into the distance. “Adam and I couldn’t bear it for even two days. They took our clothes, our shoes. We were put on the block with nothing on, and handled as if we were animals.”

Belle’s lips tightened sympathetically.

He went silent then and Belle could only imagine the degradation he must be remembering. “You’re home safe now, Jeremiah.”

“But it could happen again,” he told her. “Watson could break into our home and drag us off and—”

He seemed to shake himself back to the present. “I’m sorry, Belle. I didn’t mean to burden you with my troubles.”

“It’s all right. We’re friends, remember?”

He gave her a ghost of a smile. “You were our light. Adam kept saying to me, ‘Belle did this for sixteen years, and survived. We can, too.’”

“And you did,” she pointed out softly.

He shrugged. “I’m still having nightmares. Half-grown man, having nightmares like a child.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I suppose,” he replied. “Well, let me get on home. I’ll see you in a few days.”

“All right.”

As he drove away, Belle watched until he disappeared from sight.

When Daniel had gone by Francine’s house a few days after the Morgans’ homecoming party, he’d been informed by Hodges that she and her father were gone to Windsor to visit friends, and wouldn’t return for a month. Daniel found that quite convenient, but he’d thanked Hodges and left. Now the month was up. According to rumor, she’d returned last night.

Hodges let him in, and directed him to the well-furnished drawing room.

At his entrance, Francine, all in blue, stood and smiled. “Hello, darling.” She came to him and placed her arms around his waist. “Give me a kiss so I’ll know you missed me.”

Daniel looked down into her eyes, and said quietly, “Tell me about you and Hood.”

Her gaze went chasing off. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Rumors are going around saying you two are sparking.”

Francine backed away. Her voice was cool. “Your sister has never liked me—”

“This has nothing to do with Jo. Is it true?”

Daniel could see her gauging his mood and whether she could get away with fabricating a reply. He knew her well because he’d known her a long time.

“It’s this way, Daniel. Paul and I—well, I think I’m in love with him.”

Daniel’s jaw tightened. So it was true. He felt like a fool. “Then I hope you’ll be happy.”

“Oh, Dani, don’t look like that. If this doesn’t work out, you know I’ll be back.”

“But I won’t want you back.”

She stared. “Daniel?!”

“Francine, what do you think this is? I’m not going to wait around to see if you and Hood work out.”

“Well, why not?”

“Self-respect, Francine. Do you know what that is?”

Her lips thinned. “It’s that little runaway, isn’t it?”

“Belle didn’t cause this. You did.”

“You do like her, don’t you?”

“And what if I do?”

“She’s an ignorant—”

The anger in his face stopped her. Francine didn’t finish the sentence. She said instead, “Then I suppose there’s nothing left for us to talk about. Hodges will show you out.”

Daniel left gladly.

When Daniel returned home, his parents were sitting on the front porch watching the fiery sunset.

“How’s Francine?” his father asked him.

“Who cares.”

Cecilia raised an eyebrow. “Did you two fall out?”

“She says she’s in love with Paul Hood, but if it doesn’t work out, she’ll come back to me.”

Mr. Best began to chuckle sarcastically. “That girl needs a switch taken to her selfish little behind.”

Mrs. Best could only gape at what she’d heard. When she finally found her voice, she stood and said angrily, “William, get the wagon. We’re going over there, and when I get my hands—”

Mr. Best laughed in earnest. “Sit down, lovey. We’re not going anywhere. I don’t have any bail money if you kill her. Daniel took care of things, I’m sure.”

His mother asked sharply, “Did you?”

Daniel shrugged. “I suppose.”

Cecilia’s heart ached seeing the angry hurt in her son’s eyes. She wanted to roast Francine. “Sweetheart, if you need to talk—”

“I’m all right, Mama. I’ll see you later.”

He went into the house.

Having Jojo as a friend meant that for the next week Belle heard all the rumors surrounding the breakup of Daniel and Francine. Some claimed Francine had given Daniel the mitten, while others swore it had been the other way around. Jojo and Trudy had ears like bloodhounds, it seemed, because every day when Jojo returned from school, she clued Belle in on the latest whispers. In reality, Belle didn’t care; all she had to do was look at Daniel’s tight face to know that regardless of who initiated the dissolution, Daniel didn’t seem happy to be in the center of it all. Belle put up with Jojo’s news though, solely because Jojo was twelve, and at twelve the only excitement she had in her life was gossip, going to church and school.

But by the fourth day, Belle had had enough. “Jojo, that’s it. No more rumors.”

“But, Belle, what if it’s true?” Jojo replied with scandalous glee.

Belle looked up from her reading primer and gave Jo a steely look. “Francine is not carrying Mr. Hood’s love child. She may be fast, but she’s not stupid.”

“But, Belle, Trudy heard—”

Belle closed her book and declared calmly, “Josephine Best, I don’t care if she heard it from a talking frog. I don’t want to know any more.”

Jo looked crushed. Belle felt a pang in response, but all this gossip and these rumors had to stop. “Jo, think of how Daniel feels to have his name swirling around in this mess. You of all people know how hard this has been on him.”

Jo admitted grudgingly, “I do.”

“Then help him out, please. No more carrying tales.”

“All right, but—Francine
is
breeding. Just wait. You’ll see.”

After Jojo’s departure, an amused Belle shook her head. Daniel was right. His sister was a pest.

In the week that followed, Daniel moved through the house like a ghost. Belle saw him at meals and occasionally during the day, but he never had much to say. He spent most of his time working in the barn with his father, and the rest at the home of the Morgan brothers.

On this particular morning, Belle and Mrs. Best were sorting through some donated clothes collected by the women of Mrs. Best’s female antislavery circle. According to her, the group had been in existence since the thirties, ministering to the sick and shut in, collecting clothes for runaways and even managing stations on the Road. The clothes they were looking over now were headed across the Detroit River to some fugitive-aid organizations in Windsor and Amherstburg, Ontario.

As they worked they chatted, and Belle asked, “Do you think Daniel’s ever going to smile again?”

Cecilia shrugged. “All I know is, if his jaw gets any tighter it’s going to shatter.”

Belle agreed as she searched for holes in the pair of trousers in her hands. “Well, I hope he comes back to himself soon. Haven’t whipped him at checkers in quite some time.”

Mrs. Best grinned.

Meanwhile, out in the barn, Daniel put down his plane and said to his father, “Can I talk to you about something?”

Mr. Best glanced up from the table he was working on. “Sure, son. What about?”

“Women.”

“Ah,” Mr. Best replied sagely, “how about we take a short break?”

Daniel nodded. So they went out to the log behind the barn and took a seat.

Mr. Best asked, “So what do you want to know?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with Belle.”

Mr. Best stared. “I thought this was going to be about Francine.”

Daniel shook his head. “Nope. Belle. Frankly, I’m glad Francine gave me an out. Now I can court Belle.”

His father said, “Let me get this straight. All this moping you’ve been doing—”

“I’m not moping, Pa. I’m angry—at Francine, Hood, but mostly at myself for letting Francine turn me into the county laughingstock. I thought I was in love with her because she’d always been there, but I had nothing to compare true, deep-down feelings with. Now I do.”

His father studied him silently, then asked, “And your plans with Belle are what?”

“I’d like to court her, Papa.”

“No.”

Daniel’s eyes went wide. “No?!”

“No,” his father repeated quietly. “You spent the last three years claiming to be so deeply in love with Francine, you wanted to marry her.”

“But—”

His father cut him off. “And now that you’re no longer in love with her, you claim to be in love with Belle.”

“Why, yes, and—”

“What if, say in six weeks or six days, you decide you no longer love Belle? It would be pretty awkward around here with the two of you living under the same roof, don’t you think?”

“Yes, Papa, but—”

“Do you have any idea what your mother would do to you if you broke Belle’s heart?”