Daughter of Twin Oaks (9 page)

Chapter Eight

Morgantown, Kentucky

September 23, 1862

“Town up ahead, mile or so.” Meshach trotted Sunshine, the mare, alongside the wagon.

“Can we go out around it?” Jesselynn straightened her shoulders. She’d been nearly asleep.

“Night dark like this make no nevermind.”

Driving through a town, no matter how small, brought out the knots in her stomach. “How far ahead is Benjamin?”

“ ’Bout half mile. He waitin’ on us.”

There’d have to be a direct confrontation on a moonless night like the one they were driving through for anyone to even get a glimpse of them. They didn’t know anyone this far from home, so how would anyone know them? Besides, they’d only be sounds, dark as it was.

“What do you think?”

“Go on through. Save time. I tie up to de wagon and drive. Dat way someone see us, dey not ’spect some nigger stealin’ de hosses and wagon.”

Jesselynn thought of her team. Even Ahab looked more like a workhorse now. He was tired enough to plod along, head down, the arch gone from his neck and the lift from his tail. The horses had begun to take on the nondescript look needed to keep them safe in the daylight, let alone the night.

What to do?

A dog barked off to their right. Another answered, but there was no excited yip of a dog coming to see who they were. They were just doing their job, announcing someone going by.

“All right.” She tightened the reins with a soft “whoa,” and the wagon squeaked to a halt. They needed to get some grease for the wagon wheels. So many things she should have thought to bring. So many she hadn’t been aware they’d need.

Meshach stripped the saddle from the mare and tied her to the tailgate along with the filly.

“We’s a’right?” Ophelia’s sleepy voice came from the pallet where she and Thaddeus slept each night.

“Sho’ ’nuff, sugar, you g’wan back to sleep.”

If only I could crawl back there and sleep too
. Jesselynn felt like rubbing her rear. Riding horse or hard bench, either way her rump hurt by the end of the night. Never had she thought that walking would feel good. Or that running would feel better. But not with someone chasing them.

She scooted over and Meshach clucked the team into motion again. “Where’s the rifle?”

“Right behind us.”

Jesselynn reached back and grabbed the stock, then settled the gun at their feet. Better safe than sorry, as her mother had always said. But then Miriam Highwood hadn’t been fleeing across the state of Kentucky either, not that she wouldn’t have if it were necessary. But no way could she picture her mother donning britches. She would have worn an old dress and shawl, but no britches.

Once she’d opened the gate in her mind, thoughts of home scrambled through like runaway sheep. How were Lucinda and Joseph doing with the plantation? Was the tobacco all cut and drying? With the drought, the leaves were small anyway and drying in the field. While the fugitives had only been on the road a few days, it felt like a month and another world.

The final question leaped into her head like the wolf that chased the sheep.
What about Dunlivey? Did he come back?

She shivered at the thought. He could be trailing them already, and he wouldn’t have to hide during the day. He could travel as long as he pleased.

But he’s in the army. He can’t just leave like that
. This thought brought her a measure of comfort. So easy in the dark of night to dream up bogeymen, and Dunlivey surely was the king of those. An owl hooted right over their heads, leaving her heart pumping and her hands shaking. Maybe it was a good thing Meshach was driving. Ahab would feel her fear.

She could hear her brother Zachary’s put-out voice.
“Quit acting like a girl, Jesse, or you can’t come with us.”

Or her mother.
“Jesselynn, you must be a lady. You are too old for climbing trees any longer.”

Or Lucinda.
“You break yo’ mama’s heart, actin’ like dat.”

This was a night for voices.

“All quiet up ahead.” Benjamin trotted up to the wagon side, seeming to come out of nowhere.

“Good.”

When they drew even with the outbuildings of the town, Meshach slowed the horses to a walk. While they could see the outlines of the buildings, not a candle lit a window nor a sound spoke louder than the clop of the horses’ hooves and the squeak of the wheels. Maybe the town had been abandoned. Had there been fighting in the area?

Where in thunder were they?

She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until she felt light-headed as they left the town behind without incident. Jesselynn sucked in a deep breath and let it out on a sigh.

She swatted at a mosquito, tired of the incessant whine about her head. The long sleeves of her shirt and long pant legs saved all but her neck and face. As dawn neared, a breeze picked up, and the mosquitoes left.

The sky lightened slowly like a shy bride hiding her blushes. Birds twittered and fluttered, trying out voices roughened by the night. A cardinal burst into song as the sun pinked the clouds. A rooster crowed, cows bellowed from the farm off to the side of the road, a horse whinnied, and Ahab pricked his ears.

The road started down a hill, and off in the distance they could see the steam rising from a river that glinted between the trees.

“Stopping somewhere along the river?” she asked.

“I s’pose. Benjamin find us a good spot.” Meshach raised his head, sniffing the breeze. “Some’un cookin’ bacon. My, that do smell good.”

Jesselynn sniffed. “You’re making that up.”

“No, suh. Close yo’ eyes and sniff again.”

She did as he said, and a smile stretched her cheeks. “You’re right. Bacon and eggs and biscuits. Lucinda’s biscuits. Now wouldn’t that be fine?”

“We might could buy bacon and eggs. Gots to get milk fo’ Thaddy, but …” He shook his head. “No one makes biscuits like Lucinda.” It was his turn to sigh. “I sho’ do miss her good cookin’.”

“When we get to camp, you want to find a farm and get us some supplies? Or I could do it.”

“Benjamin will. Lucinda tan my black hide if she hear we let you go off by yo’self.”

Jesselynn started to argue but chose to leave it alone. The farther they got from home, the less hold Lucinda would have. She nibbled on her bottom lip. You’d have thought Lucinda was mistress of the house instead of her.

Please, God, let us see Lucinda and Twin Oaks again
. Guilt caught her by the throat and squeezed. How many days since she’d read her Bible, either to herself or to the others? How long since she’d thanked her heavenly Father for keeping them safe? Did it really make any difference?

After Benjamin signaled them to the stopping place, she dug a few more coins from her leather drawstring bag and handed them to him. Soon they would be down to gold pieces, and those she could never give to a slave. It would be far too noticeable.

“Get milk, bacon or ham if they have some, and eggs.” She paused to think. “And ask if they have any vegetables they can spare from their garden.”

“You wants grain for de horses?”

She shook her head. “They’ll have to do on grass. I’m sure Uncle Hiram will have plenty of grain to fatten them for the winter. Take the mule.”

“Yessuh.” Benjamin grinned at her. “Not Ahab, huh?”

“You git.” Meshach stripped the harness off Ahab and draped it over a wagon wheel. “And hurry. We’s hungry.”

“And tired of mush.” Jesselynn scooped Thaddy up in her arms and gave him a whirl around hugs and kisses on both cheeks, making him giggle.

“More.” He patted her cheeks with both hands. “More Jesselynn.” “More who?” She stopped whirling and adopted her sternest face. “What’s my name?”

Thaddeus looked down, one finger on his lower lip. “Jesse.”

“Good boy. Now say it again.”

“Jesse.” He pooched out his lower lip. “Jesse!” His finger now pointing to his own chest, “Me Joshwa.”

“All right, Josh
wa
! Let’s go wash in the river.”

Cold water has a way of waking one more fully. By the time she’d removed her boots and stuck her feet in so she and Thaddy could wade, feeling was returning to her legs and posterior. She looked across the water to see two deer drinking in the shallows. But when Thaddy slapped a stick on the water, they vanished into the shadows before she could point them out to him.

Catching Thaddy by the hands, she swirled him around as she waded out to her hips and then dunked them both. He shrieked with laughter until she heard Meshach announce breakfast behind her.

“Good. Come on in. The water feels fine.” Dripping, she turned, Thaddy in her arms.

Ophelia appeared from behind Meshach. “Missy Lynn.” Her eyes and mouth showed her shock.

“Don’ call her dat!” Meshach lashed out at her, his laughter turned fierce in an eye blink.

“I’s sorry.” Ophelia cringed like a puppy about to be whipped. She looked at Jesselynn. “I know, Jesse. I jes’ fo’git.”

“Then don’t call me anything at all. If we make mistakes with just us, that is one thing, but little mistakes can lead to our being caught, and if we’re caught, you might be raped or killed or sold. Keep that in mind.”

“And think, ’Phelia. Think! You got a brain under dat kinky wool, so use it.” Meshach frowned at Ophelia.

Jesselynn looked at Meshach, shock making her hands tingle. He sounded so like her father he could have been standing there. How many times had she heard Joshua Highwood say the same thing to one of the slaves? He expected them to think, fully believing that God gave those with dark skin every bit as much intelligence as those with light. Needless to say, other planters didn’t agree with him and frequently told him so, so he’d no longer shared that information.

The fear of
uppity niggers
permeated the plantations like miasma hovering over a swamp. But even though it became illegal to teach slaves, Highwood had continued and, therefore, so had Jesselynn.

The song of a cardinal broke up the exchange, and Meshach shook his head once more in Ophelia’s direction before returning to the fire, where Benjamin was dismounting with the supplies. The cardinal’s song had become their signal so that no one ended up at the wrong end of the rifle.

Within minutes, Ophelia had the bacon frying, and the perfume of it brought the others back to the campfire. Jesselynn, with Thaddeus on one hip, grabbed a dead branch on the way and pulled it up to the fire. She swung her baby brother to the ground and began breaking sticks off for the fire, motioning him to do the same. Gone were the days when small children were carried everywhere on the hip of their slave and played with continually lest they cry and be unhappy. At least with those of Twin Oaks.

“My, that smells downright heavenly.” Jesselynn sniffed again in appreciation. They had used up their bacon, along with the rabbits Benjamin and Meshach managed to snare. If only there had been more in the storehouse at home for them to bring along, but she couldn’t see letting those left behind be without food either. So they had split the stores, knowing that the money would need to be stretched until it pleaded for mercy and then stretched some more.

They would be eating squirrel and rabbit at home too, unless someone got a deer. She jerked her thoughts back to the matters at hand just in time to scoop Thaddeus up and away from the fire.

“No! You don’t touch the fire. You know better.” At the sternness of her voice, he screwed his eyes shut and puckered his mouth to let out a wail. “No, stop that. You are not hurt.” She gave him a bit of a shake to catch his attention.

“I take him.” Meshach dumped some more wood down by the fire and reached for the child.

“No, he has to learn to mind.” She grasped the chubby chin and looked right into Thaddy’s blue eyes, so like his father’s it made her heart hitch. “When I say no, I mean no, and you have to stop what you are doing right then. Without another move.” He blinked and stuck a forefinger in his round mouth. “You hear me?” He nodded, never taking his eyes from hers.

“Me be good.”

“I know you can be good.” She hugged him and kissed his cheek, tasting the salt of a tear that trekked downward. “And you must be.”
For all of our sakes
.

“Sit yourself an’ eat.” Ophelia handed her a plate with one hand and took Thaddeus with the other. “I feeds him.”

Jesselynn knew that she should do that herself and let Ophelia eat too, but like a bolt from the sky, her knees nearly collapsed, setting her down with more of a thump than she’d reckoned. Her plate tipped alarmingly, but she righted it before her two fried eggs slipped over the edge.

“Bread! Fresh bread?”

“De lady, she gived me dat.” Benjamin’s smile near to cracked his face. He pointed to a sack behind the log. “Dey’s carrots, an’ beets, an’ some beans, ’longside de milk an’ such. She one nice lady. She say we by Morgantown on de Green River.”

“I set snares. We have rabbit stew fo’ supper.” Meshach handed Thaddeus another piece of bread to dunk in his milk.

Thaddy smiled, a white trickle off the side of his lip. “Good.” He waved the bread, brushing it against Ophelia’s cheek so she ducked back. That made the little boy chuckle and wave his bread again.

A leaf floated down and hovered in the smoke before drifting off to the side. The sun slanted through the thinning branches of the oak tree to her back. Jesselynn inhaled the scents of autumn—leaves falling to decay and make rich leaf mold so that the land might sleep and sprout again, fried bacon, coffee, the shoreline of the sleepy river, oak branches fired to coals.

If she closed her eyes, she could pretend they were on a picnic and that later they would drive home and … if there was any home left.

Better to keep her eyes open. She drank the last of the coffee, tossing the dregs into the fire, then rising, she set her cup and plate in the wash pan steaming over the coals. Staggering to the wagon and taking the pallet out felt beyond her strength, but she did it anyway and collapsed without a blink. Some time later she felt someone pull her boots off and throw a mosquito net over her, so she mumbled a thank-you and sank back into the well of sleep.