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Authors: Judith Miller

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“All right. I’ll go hitch up the wagon while Jarena’s fryin’ the fish. Be sure and save me some.” He forced a smile before he turned and headed off toward the field where the horses had been hobbled for the night.

How he wished the men hadn’t entrusted him with this task. He mumbled to himself as he walked. “If they knew ’bout the bounty on my head, they wouldn’t be so quick to hand me their money. Or a team of horses an’ a wagon. How’d I get myself into this?”

CHAPTER
6

Georgetown, Kentucky

August 1877

M
acia Boyle soundlessly hurried down the hallway in a pair of new white leather slippers. Her blond curls bobbed up and down in a chaotic rhythm as she came to a halt at the bottom of the stairway. “Father! I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

Dr. Samuel Boyle stood inside the front door of their home. “I just now arrived. Why don’t you join me in the parlor?”

Her bow-shaped pink lips turned upward into a demure smile. “Must we talk now? I’m expecting Jackson Kincaid at any moment.”

Samuel placed his physician’s bag on the elaborately carved receiving table beside the staircase, removed a folded paper, and met Macia’s eyes. “Why don’t you join me in the parlor until he arrives? We both know Jackson is notoriously tardy. It may be another hour before he appears. Turn around and let me see your dress.”

His appeal pleased her, and she pivoted slowly.

“Emerald green looks particularly lovely on you, Macia. You and your mother should both wear more green. Is that a new gown? I don’t believe I’ve seen it before, have I?”

“No. Mrs. Langford delivered it just last week.”

“So that fishtail at the back of ladies’ dresses is still in fashion, is it?” he teased.

She emitted an exasperated sigh. “Mermaid’s tail, Father, not fishtail.”

Samuel laughed heartily as he patted her shoulder. “Mermaid tail, fishtail—I don’t know how you ladies manage to keep abreast of these important fashion trends.

“Margaret! Where are you?” he called while taking hold of Macia’s hand and leading her into the lavishly decorated front room of the house.

“I’m right here, my dear. No need to raise your voice.” His wife walked into the parlor and placed a fleeting kiss on his stubbled cheek. “You look tired. Let me have Cook bring you a cup of tea.”

Samuel sat down heavily on the brocade settee. “I’m no more tired than usual, and I truly don’t want any tea, but thank you for your concern, my dear. Is Harvey close at hand?” He patted his hand on the cushioned divan.

Taking her husband’s cue, Margaret sat down beside him. “I don’t believe so. I haven’t seen him since earlier this afternoon. Is something wrong?”

“No. I had hoped to talk to the entire family at one time, but perhaps this is best after all. I’ll talk to the two women in my life and get your reactions first.” He smoothed the wrinkles from his trousers. “Do sit down, Macia. Pacing in front of the window won’t cause Jackson to arrive any more quickly than if you’re seated.”

She plopped down. Both women watched intently as he carefully unfolded the large piece of paper he’d carried into the parlor.

“I want both of you to look at this broadside.”

Macia quickly scanned the page. “Why did you want us to read this?” Her words were spoken in a nearly inaudible whisper.

“What do you think?” he asked, a look of exhilaration on his face.

“You aren’t planning on
us
moving to this place, are you? What’s the name of it?” Macia asked, pulling the circular closer. “
Hill City
. You aren’t planning on our family leaving Georgetown and going to Hill City, Kansas, are you?” Her voice was trembling by the time she completed the question.

Margaret leaned forward and patted her daughter’s hand. “Now, don’t upset yourself, darling. Father merely brought this home to keep us informed of the latest news about town. Isn’t that right, Samuel?”

Macia could hear the urgency in her mother’s words. She waited, hoping to hear her father’s immediate agreement. Instead, he inhaled deeply, settled back into the cushion, and gave them a pronounced frown.

“No, that’s not at all what I intended. However, before either of you becomes unduly distressed, let me speak my piece. The only thing I’d ask is that you maintain a modicum of objectivity as you listen,” he urged. “Will you do that?”

Macia simply stared at him. Apparently her mother had nodded in agreement, for her father smiled and began to speak.

“Margaret, you know I’ve long desired to move away from Georgetown— get out of the South. I’ve remained in Kentucky because it’s always been your home, but you know I’m not happy in the South. I’ve always been an outsider in these parts. If it weren’t for the fact that folks in Georgetown need medical care, they’d shun me altogether.”

Margaret edged forward on the settee. “Only because of your attitude about slavery and the coloreds. If you’d kept your opinions to yourself, folks would have taken to you just fine.”

He gave his wife a lopsided grin. “Well, we both know
that’s
never going to happen. Why should I lead people to believe I agree with them when I don’t? Fact is, things around Georgetown haven’t changed all that much. Unfortunately, a lot of good men, both colored and white, died in the war, but I don’t see the Negroes around here making much progress. Most of them haven’t been able to break away from the hemp fields, and I certainly don’t see a change of attitude in most Southerners.”

Macia’s mother appeared completely baffled. “Why, what do you mean, Samuel? The Negroes are free. They can come and go as they please, the same as you and I.”

“Exactly my point, Margaret. We freed them to a dusty road with only the rags on their backs. How can they live unless they continue working for their same masters?”

“They’re paid wages and given a place to live.”

“Oh, Margaret, do pull off your blinders. Most of them live in the same old ramshackle dwellings they’ve always occupied, but now they must consider those hovels a part of their pay. The meager wage they’re paid is barely enough to buy food for their table.”

Macia sighed. “What has any of this to do with this Hill City place?”

“It would be an excellent place for our family to begin a fresh, new life,” Samuel replied. “Think of the adventure, the excitement—”

“The lack of civility,” Margaret interjected.

“There’s ample civility out west. I spent the afternoon with the founder of Hill City, and he tells me we would be a most welcome addition to the town. From what he said, Hill City is a prospering little community that will grow by leaps and bounds in the future. Besides giving us a fresh start, purchasing land in the West is a wise investment. Mr. Hill tells me there’s plenty of farmland for sale, and purchasing acreage now, while the prices are cheap, makes good sense.”

“If it’s such a prospering town, why is he in Kentucky advertising for folks to move there?” Macia smugly inquired.

Her father didn’t flinch at the question. “If you’ll look at the date located at the bottom of the page, you’ll see that this broadside was printed several years ago. Mr. Hill merely had it along with him and showed it to me. I asked if I could have it. To tell you the truth, he didn’t come here seeking prospective citizens for Hill City. He’s arrived with several colored gentlemen in order to encourage additional Negroes to move west, to a town that’s being formed exclusively for coloreds. There’s already one small group that’s settled in Nicodemus. In fact, he told me most of them are from this part of Kentucky.”

Macia folded her arms across her waist. “I say we forget about Mr. Hill and his namesake city. Let him do what he came here to do: find more settlers for his colored community.”

Margaret nodded in agreement. “She does make a sound point, Samuel. It seems as though this Hill City is already a thriving little community, and we’re well established in Georgetown.”

“Have you heard nothing I said earlier? I’ve never felt settled in this town. And putting that fact aside, I believe this would be an excellent means to require more of Harvey—force him to take responsibility for his life. He doesn’t feel an iota of guilt about his lack of contribution to this household.”

Margaret pulled a dainty lace handkerchief from her sleeve, a precursor to her habitual tearful displays.

“There’s no need for tears, Margaret. We’re merely having a discussion, and you know as well as I do that it’s time Harvey took on the responsibilities of a man.”

“Harvey’s still very young,” she defended, dabbing the corner of one eye.

“He is nineteen. I wouldn’t say a word if he had continued with his education or if he spent his time learning a trade. I’ve encouraged him to continue his education just as I encouraged Carlisle.”

“Just last week Harvey told me he was giving serious thought to reading the law.”

“In the meantime, his behavior is abhorrent. I hear him come stumbling in at all hours of the night. He spends his evenings playing cards and socializing, and then he sleeps most of the day—trading daylight for dark. Moving out west will take him away from his revelry here in Georgetown and force him to grow up.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Margaret conceded.


What
? How can you agree to such a thing, Mother? What kind of work could Harvey possibly find in Kansas? He’s more suited to life in Georgetown or some large eastern city.”

“Harvey is currently suited to not working at all, and that is what I plan to change,” her father said with a definitive tone. “If I invest in land, there’s no reason why he can’t farm for a living.”

Macia and Margaret gasped in unison.

“What’s wrong with farming? It’s good, honest work. If he doesn’t want to go to school, he must discover a way to support himself. I can think of nothing better for him than hard physical labor.”

“You’ll never get him to agree to such a thing,” Macia stated.

“That’s fine. If we decide to move west and he doesn’t want to farm, he can remain in Georgetown and support himself in any manner he chooses.”

“He will starve to death.” Margaret frantically moved her handkerchief from one eye to the other and back again.

Samuel nodded. “Exactly my point.”

A knock sounded at the front door, and Macia jumped from her chair as though she’d been projected by a tightly coiled spring. “That’s Jackson. Please promise me that you and Mother won’t make a decision until we have more time to talk. I can’t begin to tell you how distressed I am over this entire topic.”

Her father patted her hand. “We won’t make a decision this evening, and I’ll listen to everything you have to say before coming to a final determination.”

“Thank you. I’ve been invited to the Kincaids’ for supper, but I should be home by ten o’clock.”

“I never did like any of those Kincaids,” Samuel muttered as she walked from the room.

Macia turned when she reached the hallway. “I heard your remark, Father, and it wasn’t what I’d expect to hear from a kind Christian man such as you.”

She tied her feather-trimmed straw bonnet under her chin and opened the front door, careful to block Jackson’s entrance.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he took her arm and walked to the street. “I had planned to greet your parents,” he commented while helping her up into his carriage.

“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to appear rude, but they were in the midst of a discussion.”

He gave her a knowing look. “I understand. My parents have arguments from time to time, also.”

“They weren’t arguing, merely discussing,” she defended. She didn’t want Jackson believing that her parents were unhappily married. However, truth be known, she doubted whether he cared one way or the other.

Jackson ignored her reply and flicked the reins. “Mother is looking forward to your visit. I believe she’d like your opinion on a piece of needlework she’s been stitching. Or is it a dress she mentioned? I’m not certain, but there’s some item that she’s anxious to show you,” he said as they neared the edge of town. “Is that your brother?” he asked, nodding toward a carriage careening in their direction.

“Indeed it is. Signal him to stop,” she said while frantically waving at the coach.

Macia watched intently, uncertain whether Harvey could bring the buggy to a halt without causing it to overturn. She breathed a sigh of relief as he slowed the coach and came alongside Jackson’s carriage. Always the jokester, he waved his hat in a grand flourish.

“Hello, Macia. How are you, Jackson? Something amiss?”

“I thought I had best warn you that Father came home proposing that we all move to some town out west.”

Harvey gave a hearty laugh. “Mother will soon change his mind. And if she doesn’t, I will.”

“I’m not confident you’ll succeed.
You
are part of the reason he’s talking about making this move,” she disclosed. “You’d best come up with some excellent arguments, because I don’t think he’ll be easily dissuaded. When I left the house, he had Mother nearly convinced.”

Her words appeared to shock him into sobriety. “I’ll go straight home and talk to him,” he replied.

Jackson eyed her suspiciously as they moved onward. “You
were
playing a joke on him, weren’t you?”

“No. Unfortunately, what I told him is true. My father has decided our family should move to the western frontier and become one with the savages,” she uttered dramatically.

He guffawed and waved one hand in a dismissive gesture. “I don’t think you need worry about savages. I understand the cavalry has them under control—at least throughout
most
of Kansas.”

His cavalier attitude annoyed her, and she sent him an icy glare. “This isn’t funny, Jackson. How would you feel if your father suddenly announced that he was moving to the frontier?”

“Now, now, Macia, there’s no need to work yourself into a state of apoplexy. I’m certain this whole idea will leave your father’s mind as quickly as it arrived.”

“Don’t speak to me in that placating tone, Jackson. I’m not a child. The fact is that if my father decides to move west, it will radically alter my future.”

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