Honor (32 page)

“They might even come on Christmas Day,” Royale said bitterly.

The fact that this child had been born on the eve of Christ’s birth vibrated through Honor. Friends didn’t celebrate Christmas lavishly, but she was struck by the thought of Mary giving birth in a stable.

“I can carry her and hide her in the loft,” Judah said and signed, staring at Samuel. “But will you permit me, sir?”

All of them turned as if connected by thread to look at Samuel, who still sat as if dazed on the bench.

With the child in her arms, Honor sank to her knees in front of him and signed, “Please, Samuel, let us hide her in the barn. If the catchers come . . . Traveling now, alone in the cold, might kill her and the child. Please.” Honor rested a hand on his knee, her heart in her throat, its beat nearly deafening her.

She couldn’t imagine the Samuel she knew sending this woman and infant out into the cold. But then she’d seen otherwise-generous white people inflict unthinkable cruelty on those with black skin. Now came the moment she’d dreaded, the moment she would learn whether Samuel’s
kindness was only for people with skin like his. Whether he would obey the law of man or of God.

Samuel appeared to shake himself. “Hide her.” He rose. “I’ll help Judah carry her.”

Honor rose as he did and tried to put her free arm around him.

Samuel shied away from her.

Her heart shattered. Samuel was aware of her secret now, but it might cost her all the progress they’d made to being husband and wife.

DECEMBER 25, 1819

Late that morning, Honor tried to continue sewing new, larger clothing for Eli. Samuel had barely looked at her since he’d burst into the kitchen in the hours just before midnight. After a breakfast eaten in tense silence, he’d fled straight to the barn without a word about what had transpired.
Dear Lord, what will happen now?

She heard the blacksmith, Micah, call, “Hello the house! I’m back, and I’ve got someone for you to meet. Come out!”

Along with her anxiety, she folded up her sewing, smoothed down her hair and apron, donned her wool shawl, and stepped outside. Already outside playing in the snow, Eli and Caleb came running too. Micah had left for Cincinnati two days ago. Honor halted in surprise. All four members of the Hastings family—the baby included—had accompanied Micah, and a plump, pretty young woman in a fine navy-blue dress and bonnet stood beside him.

“This is my bride—my Christmas bride, Amanda.”

“Whoop!” Eli shouted and dashed toward the barn with Caleb at his heels, presumably to fetch Samuel.

“Amanda,” Honor said, trying to hide her surprise and her caution. “Welcome.” She grasped the woman’s hand. “Please come inside, out of the cold.”

“We came for our wedding celebration,” Micah said, not letting go of his bride’s hand. Honor stared at him, unsure what he meant. “We were married this morning in Cincinnati, as I told Samuel last week, and I’ve brought a large apple cake with us to gather and celebrate with our neighbors. We knew that your husband’s barn would be warm because of the forge, and it’s larger than any of the cabins around here, so Samuel told us we could hold a party there. I’ve invited everyone to come celebrate our wedding and Christmas today in your barn.”

Honor’s heart fell. How could Samuel have neglected to inform her of this? A wedding celebration in their barn—with a runaway and her baby in the loft? She felt the blood drain from her face. It wasn’t possible.

Samuel had exited the barn, pulling on his wool coat as he walked. Eli and Caleb followed him. Any hope that Samuel would draw on his usual standoffishness and somehow dissuade Micah from staying here disappeared with one of her husband’s rare smiles. Nodding, he clasped Micah’s hand, then released it and signed, “Congratulations! Let’s bring the cake into my barn!”

When Honor didn’t translate this, Samuel nudged her and she quickly relayed his words to Micah. She tried not to make another sound or motion so no one would note
her rising tension. What was Samuel thinking? He couldn’t have forgotten the woman hidden there. Was this his way of teaching her not to aid runaways? Her stomach twisted into a cold knot.

As Micah, Amanda, and the Hastings family headed for the barn, Samuel pulled Honor aside, communicating with her at last. “I am sorry I forgot to tell you about offering Micah our barn, but this calamity is of your own making.” With that, he strode away from her, toward his friends.

When Honor caught up to them, Amanda sent her a nervous glance, and she summoned up a smile. This woman would be a close neighbor, perhaps for the rest of their lives. “Of course I’m just taken aback. This is all so sudden.”

Micah seemed to misinterpret her. “Well,” he said, sounding shy, “I been writing letters back and forth with her over the last year, and I finally persuaded her to marry me.”

“Where is thee from, Amanda?” Honor asked.

“A town across the river from Cincinnati. Covington, Kentucky,” Amanda said. “I met Micah at a horse sale. I was living with my uncle.”

So this bride came from a slave state. The band around Honor’s lungs tightened. How would this all end? Would her secret lawbreaking become public knowledge today?

Within an hour, all the local families had arrived for the celebration. Nearly twelve chattering adults and a pack of noisy children gathered in the barn, which Thad had helped sweep clean. Honor had changed into her best mourning dress for the occasion, and the rest of the
women had come in their finest also. The forge radiated a comfortable heat. And many had brought lanterns for the ride home and for lighting the dim, cavernous barn during the short daylight hours.

Judah had warned the runaway to be quiet at all costs. He’d managed to hide the sleeping baby in a bucket and carry it to Perlie in the kitchen, unnoticed. No one would go there, so if Perlie could keep the infant quiet, all would be well. Honor tried to turn over her worry to the Lord, but it refused to budge. Amanda proved to be a soft-spoken, friendly girl. But Honor’s constant worry put her on her guard.

The men had set up a makeshift table using leftover wood slats on top of sawhorses. Honor draped two of Miriam’s embroidered tablecloths over it to add to the festive air. Every woman who’d come had brought dishes to pass, so Samuel’s last-minute notice of this party didn’t require undue effort from Perlie or Royale. Soon heavy pottery bowls filled with a variety of breads, stews, and vegetables covered every inch of the starched white tablecloths. The mouthwatering aromas of rich food mingled in the air. In the center of it all sat the fragrant apple cake, tantalizing them. Honor wished she could have enjoyed this first community party.

She schooled herself not to look toward the loft. God forbid that anyone should detect the woman trapped there because Honor slipped. But the compulsion to look upward bedeviled her moment by moment.

As soon as everyone assembled, a beaming Micah formally introduced his bride to each family, one by one.
When he finished, everyone applauded and the men insisted he kiss his wife for all to see.

Even Honor, as stressed as she was, smiled at the big blacksmith, who was now blushing.

One of the older children ran toward the ladder, followed by Eli and several others. “Let’s play in the loft!”

“No!” Honor objected, frantically searching for a reason. “I don’t want anyone falling. Come here, Eli.”

The boy looked startled since he often played in the loft. But he obeyed her and turned from the foot of the ladder.

Honor tried to think of another place she could have hidden the runaway. But there was nowhere else. And no chance now.

The festivities continued. Soon the women were sitting on the benches and chairs they had brought, eating, while the men leaned against the walls and ate. Honor couldn’t concentrate on the conversation going on around her. What if the woman in the loft sneezed? Honor felt as if someone were sawing at her insides, as if she were a piece of wood nearing the point where she would snap apart.

“You must not be hungry,” Charity commented.

“Oh, just thinking,” Honor apologized and began to try to eat her food. Her unsettled stomach, however, threatened to refuse to keep it down.

Then she saw Caleb climbing the ladder to the loft. She couldn’t call him back. He wouldn’t hear her.

He mounted the top rung. He would see the runaway! She leapt up, her heart racing so fast she could barely breathe. Stars burst before her eyes.

Honor heard Charity’s voice from above her. She blinked and opened her eyes. Charity knelt beside her, chafing her wrist. “Mrs. Cathwell, wake up.”

Honor’s thoughts remained scattered. “What happened?” she muttered.

“You fainted,” Amanda said from Honor’s other side.

Even in the dim light, Honor saw that she was surrounded by the women. All of them were staring down at her. Her mind came back into focus. At all costs, she must not give the woman away. But Caleb had been at the top of the ladder. Had he seen the runaway? Revealed her? “Caleb?”

“Eli, she wants Caleb,” Charity said.

“No,” Honor protested, not wanting to call attention to the loft. “He just came to mind. I think I can sit up.”

Samuel moved forward and gripped one hand to help her rise. “Are you all right? Should I carry you to bed?” he signed.

“No, I’ll be fine,” she replied.

“Take it slow, Mrs. Cathwell,” Charity said. “We don’t want you fainting on us again.”

Samuel set her gently in the chair Charity had vacated.

When she was situated, Honor gazed around. The women ringed her, and the men encircled them. No one looked upset, so the runaway must not have been discovered. Had her fainting drawn all attention away from Caleb? Had he come down before actually gaining the loft? Or seeing the runaway?

“I’m fine. Really. I don’t know why I fainted like that,” Honor repeated.

Assured of her recovery, the men began talking again and left the women, going to where the jug of home brew sat in the corner. Samuel lingered, but Thad tugged his arm and led him away.

“Are you increasing?” Charity asked in a low tone.

“No—or I don’t think so. I don’t know why I fainted,” Honor repeated the half-truth. Terror at the thought of the runaway being exposed here—here, in front of people who would send her back to slavery—had caused her to faint.

“Well, you just sit here and watch,” Charity said.

So Honor obeyed, observing the wedding celebration and secretly fretting but trying not to let this show.

About an hour before dark, everyone began to pack up to go home to bed. Dawn and another day of work would come all too soon.

“It’s too bad we don’t have a fiddler in the neighborhood,” Thad said as he carried a basket of food remnants out the barn door. “We could have had dancing.”

Caleb came to her while everyone else bustled around. He signed slowly. “Why is there a woman?” He pointed upward.

Honor blanched and her fingers flew. “Slave catchers chase her. Don’t tell anyone. Please.”

Caleb stared at her in the low light. He drew close and whispered in her ear, “They are bad men.”

She took his face in both hands and nodded. “A secret,” she signed and put a finger to her lips.