Indigo (6 page)

Later in the day, Hester pondered his startling revelation. Did he really intend to purchase land in the area, and if so to what purpose? She'd never heard any stories about where the Black Daniel resided when he was not on the Road, nor had she heard anything about his having a family. All she knew was that the Black Daniel helped slaves escape and guided them north, and that he, like the Wesleyites, had never lost a passenger. Did he have a wife somewhere who was right now worried sick over his absence? Having a spouse on the Road had to be harrowing. With all the dangers to be faced—the catchers and dogs to be avoided—the very real threat of betrayal looming everywhere, it made Hester a bit thankful her fiance, Foster Quint, had no official ties to the Road. Her own involvement was dangerous enough. Foster, a Canadian by birth, was presently in England finishing up his studies at Oxford. He would be returning to America's shores in the spring. Foster's dark face formed in her mind, and she realized she'd written him only once since Galen's arrival. She added one more disparaging mark to the Black Daniel's slate, then stopped herself—Galen had apologized this morning for being such a thorn in her side. He'd even smiled. She'd no idea how long this behavior would last but she hoped it continued for the remainder of his stay.

Hester entered the cellar room and found him feeding wood to the belly of the old stove. The chill in the air down there was perfect for wintering vegetables and other staples, but being below ground with the damp and the cold was not an ideal location for humans. She might have to consider moving him up into the house if he stayed much longer.

"Here's your luncheon," she called.

He turned from the stove, acknowledged her with a nod, and made his way back to the cot. He sat, propped the cane against the thin mattress, and took the tray.

"Is there draught in here?"

Hester shook her head. "No. When Bea stopped by this morning, I told her how you were progressing and she said you can probably do without it."

Once again he surprised her with his smile.

Hester smiled shyly in reply. "I told her you would be pleased. She'd like to come by and see about removing some of the stitching in the next few days."

"Good. The sooner these threads come out of my side the better."

Luncheon consisted of stewed tomatoes, succotash, and the sweetest fish he'd ever tasted. "You're a damned fine cook, Hester Wyatt."

"Thank you."

He held her eyes and she felt the pull of him, tugging at her again. In an attempt to ignore those sensations, she asked, "After your meal, will you tell me about the ambush? We have a Vigilance Committee meeting this evening, and the members will want to know about the traitor."

"So you believe me?"

"Your injuries speak for themselves, but whether the Judas is from Whittaker has not been proven."

"I was bringing some passengers in by wagon—a man named Ephraim, his wife, Liza, and their six-year-old son, Jake. I had rigged myself up earlier to look like an elderly white widow, complete with hat and veil because we'd ridden part of the way to Michigan by train. Ephraim and his small family were posing as my servants."

Using the trains to come north was a bit more common than slave owners and catchers realized, Hester knew. Light-skinned Blacks in particular often utilized their skin color to pose as white and then ride the rails to freedom. One of the most celebrated escapes of the era had been undertaken in 1846 by the very fair skinned Ellen Craft and her husband, William, both slaves from Georgia. Ellen, after transforming herself into a young male planter, had, with her darker-skinned husband posing as her manservant, ridden trains and steamers on the journey from Georgia to the free soil of Philadelphia.

Galen's voice recaptured Hester's attention. "We entered the state over by Cass County. I knew a family in Ann Arbor who would shelter us so we journeyed there. It took us three days, but when we approached the house I saw no light in the windows and no light in the jockey's hand."

Many of the houses on the Road had on their porches or in their front yards a small statue of a black-skinned, red-coated jockey holding a lantern from its extended arm. If the lantern was lit, runaways knew it was safe to approach the house and ask for refuge. If the lantern was dark, travelers knew to move on because the area was not safe. Hester's home had sported such a jockey for many decades. It stood out by the road, ostensibly to light the way to the back of the house. Due to the lurking presence of Shoe and his men, it hadn't been lit for days.

Galen continued. "One of the reasons we needed to find a hidey-hole was due to the full moon that night. If we could see for miles under the light of that moon, so could any slave catchers."

"So where'd you head?"

"To another safe house I knew outside town. Only we never made it. We crossed a small stream and had driven about a mile when six mounted men showed themselves on the banks above."

Galen's voice softened. "They rode slowly down the bank like apparitions from a nightmare. Their presence took us so much by surprise, we could do nothing but hold our ground and wait."

"What happened next?"

"They wanted to know who we were and why we were out so late. I still had on the garb, but I was seated in the bed of the wagon swathed in blankets supposedly to keep away the chill. I immediately closed my eyes and pretended to be just a doddering, but sleeping old woman. We'd rehearsed a story for just such an occasion, so Ephraim pointed me out as his sleeping mistress. He further explained that I was mute and that we were on our way home from a burial in Cassopolis."

"Did they believe him?"

"They asked to see the family's papers."

Hester stilled. "Did you have papers prepared?"

"I'd prepared them before coming north."

Fraudulent papers of freedom were common on the road. Hester's own free papers had been copied many times for others to use. Her neighbor, Branton Hubble, did most of the document forging in her area.

"The man who acted as the leader took the papers from Ephraim and looked at them under the light of the moon. I was afraid he'd keep them or burn them, but after a moment he seemed satisfied and gave the papers back. He then asked if we'd seen any runaways. Ephraim told him no. The man slowly leaned down into Ephraim's face and said he and his men were slave catchers and he hoped Ephraim wasn't lying because he hated liars. Ephraim repeated, he'd seen no one."

"Did that satisfy him?"

"It appeared so, however, they weren't content to simply let us pass. The leader said he and his men had been on the road for a long time. He thought it would be real neighborly if Ephraim would let him take Liza back in the woods."

"Whatever for?"

Galen looked over at her and said softly, "Surely
petite,
you are not that innocent?"

Suddenly getting his meaning, Hester stared aghast.

He continued, "Before any of us could react, one of the riders snatched up the child, Jake, and took him up on his mount. He put a gun to his head and offered Ephraim a choice."

"They didn't harm them did they?"

"In the end, no, because I offered up myself instead."

"What do you mean?"

"I stood up in the wagon, threw off the shawl and wig and identified myself. I told them the bounty they'd receive in exchange for turning me in would buy all the whores they'd ever need. I took the chance their greed would override their lust."

"You also took the chance they'd capture you and harm the woman anyway."

"I know. However I had no other option. There were six of them, they could have just as easily taken what they'd wanted and killed us where we stood. At least this way, Ephraim's family might be allowed to leave with their lives. They were my main concern."

"But your life?"

"Meant less than theirs. They hadn't come all the way from Georgia just to be terrorized by a gang of illiterate kidnappers. Their son was only six. He'd been stoic and helpful the entire trip. He deserved to have a life. I was not going to allow him to watch his mama brutalized and see his father killed trying to defend her—not while I drew breath."

"So what happened?" she whispered.

"The leader seemed a bit stunned by the good fortune that had just fallen into his lap because it took him a moment to figure out what to do. In the end, greed won out. He had me get down from the wagon then told the family to go on. Ephraim didn't want to leave me, but I assured them this was for the best."

"When did the Wesleyites make their appearance?"

"Not soon enough, believe me. After the family departed, the catchers decided to have a little fun with me. Teach me never to steal anyone's property again, they said."

Hester could hear the bitterness in his voice.

"I've no idea how long the beating lasted, but sometime towards the end I heard gunshots. By then, the pain was so great I'd lost all sense so I didn't care if it were Gabriel and his angels or the hounds of hell. I came to— I'm not sure when or even where—but I looked up and there was old Jeb Wesley's bearded face leaning over me. I heard him say, 'Just lie still, Daniel. Once me and the boys exterminate this vermin with the righteous wrath, we'll get you to a place of safety.'"

Galen added, "I don't remember much else until I woke up here."

"Do you remember waking up and grabbing my wrist?"

He seemed surprised. "No. Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head, but said truthfully, "Frightened me, though."

He searched her face. "Again, my apology."

She nodded her acceptance.

Galen said then, "I do remember hearing someone singing. It sounded like an angel. I wondered if somehow I'd been allowed into heaven?"

"You, in heaven?" she said teasingly.

He smiled. "Those were my thoughts exactly, but the singing was beautiful. Maybe I was simply dreaming."

Hester had never been one to call attention to herself, so she didn't tell him the voice had been hers.

"Well?" he asked.

His question brought her back to the moment. "Well—what?"

"Did I dream the singing?"

Hester hesitated a moment, then said quietly, "No. The voice was mine. I thought to calm you—you were speaking French and being so fitful. It was all I could think to do."

He searched her face a moment, then said, "Thank you for keeping me alive. I might have died had you not agreed to harbor me."

"You're welcome. The Road needs you." Hester then asked, "So when did the catchers mention Whittaker?"

"Some time after all six of them had taken turns teaching me the error of my ways. I remember lying on the ground and being in such pain I would've welcomed death. The leader leaned down and cackled there were catchers all over the state massed on the Ohio border waiting for me, but he'd been the one to find me. Said you people, meaning we on the Road, had a snake in our garden over in Whittaker. He considered it only fitting I know I'd been betrayed by one of my own before he sent me to hell."

"Do you know anyone in Whittaker?" Hester asked.

Galen shook his head. "No."

"Then I don't understand. Who here would have known you were coming? Surely you didn't announce your intent to travel here ahead of time?"

"Unfortunately I did, in a way. Do you know anything about the men who put together the Order?"

Hester did. The Order originated with the Black conductors in Detroit. The men of the Order were known by various names, one being the African-American Mysteries: Order of the Men of Oppression.

Their secret passwords, handshakes, and coded identification system had been modified for use by many of the agents and conductors on the Road. Among the founders of the Order were two of the most successful conductors in Detroit—William Lambert, the leader of Michigan's Black Road network, and George De Baptiste, a Detroit tailor. De Baptiste was so hated in areas of the South, a reward of one thousand dollars awaited any slave catcher who could capture him. Hester said, "Galen, I can't believe any of those men betrayed you. You said yourself you were in a lot of pain after the beating. Are you certain of what you heard?"

"I'd stake my life on it."

Hester could see he had faith in what he believed. She didn't know what to say.

Instead she asked, "Why did you let them know you were coming here? Do you do that often?"

"Usually my plans are known only to myself and my passengers. However, I had some information I was bringing north—information the Order had requested. They knew the approximate dates of my arrival so it would have been fairly simple for someone to pass that knowledge on to the slave catchers."

Hester found this all very stunning. "Let's say for the sake of argument there is a traitor, how do you propose to find him or her?"

"That's a question I can't answer yet."

"Can't or won't?"

He smiled. "Both."

Hester didn't press. She stood and asked, "Do you want to meet the member of the local Vigilance Committee?"

"No. The fewer people who know I'm in the area, the better."