Where Grace Abides (28 page)

BOOK: Where Grace Abides
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On that note he reminded himself not to take this, or anything else, for granted. It had been his experience that the very time when things seemed to be going surprisingly well often turned out to be the very time when something was almost sure to go wrong.

He sighed, sincerely hoping this wasn't one of those times.

 
33
 
L
EAVING FOR
H
OME

So long as there are homes to which men turn
At close of day;
So long as there are homes where children are,
Where women stay—
If love and loyalty and faith be found
Across those sills—
A stricken nation can recover from
Its gravest ills.

G
RACE
N
OLL
C
ROWELL

T
he night was heavy with clouds and fog, a damp, cold night permeated with wood smoke when they chanced to pass a farm along the way.

With all their passengers safely turned over to the next conductor at Canton—all but the belligerent Micah, who had taken off on his own while they'd still been hiding in the woods—Gideon and Asa were on their way home.

“Are we going to make it, Asa?”

Asa lifted an eyebrow and turned to look at him. “You always this impatient, young Gideon?”

“Only when my mother's getting married and I'm this far from home.”

Asa nodded. “I suppose that's reason enough. Didn't I tell you we'd be there in time for the wedding?”

“You did, but that was before we got stuck outside of Canton.”

“Well, we're on our way now.”

“But I don't see how we can possibly make it back in time for the wedding at this rate.”

Asa shook his head. “I wouldn't have taken you for such a worrier.”

They rode along in silence for a few more minutes until Gideon had another thought. “I don't suppose you'd be willing to unhitch one of the horses and let me ride it the rest of the way. I could probably cut the time in half.”

Asa seemed to consider that. But not for long. He gave another shake of his head. “I can't do that. The captain would be fit to be tied. I'm responsible for you.”

“No one is responsible for me except myself,” Gideon bit out. “I'm not a child.”

Asa scratched his head. “I have to wonder how many times you've reminded me of that fact on this trip.” He sighed. “I know you're not a child. But this is your first time working with passengers. Now you tell me if I'm wrong, but I have a suspicion you've never been out of Riverhaven before, at least not far.”

“I went to Columbus once.”

One side of Asa's mouth twitched. “At least you're honest.”

“I can find my way back easy enough. I could take that map you've got in back. You probably don't need it.”

When Asa didn't answer, Gideon pressed. “I'm a good rider. I've been riding a horse practically since I could walk.”

Asa shot a skeptical look at him.

“Well, I wasn't
much
older than that. Come on, Asa. It's not like you need both horses to pull an empty wagon.”

Asa made no reply, so Gideon tried again. “All I need is the map and the horse. I'll be fine.”

Even as he tried to persuade him, however, he could tell Asa wasn't warming to the idea. And Gideon had learned during their
time together on the road that when Asa made up his mind about something, there wasn't much point in trying to talk him around to a different way.

Still, he decided not to give up. He'd give him time to think about it for a spell. Maybe he'd come around on his own.

Gideon was just about to nod off when two men on horseback crashed out of the trees just ahead, startling the horses and blocking their way. Roused by the sudden stop of the wagon and the frightened horses, he caught a sharp breath. “Uh-oh! What's this?”

“Don't know,” Asa said, his voice low, “but I don't like the looks of it. Thank the good Lord we already delivered the passengers. Stay alert, though.”

Behind them a low growl started in Mac's throat, but Asa hushed him.

“Asa—look!”

Another man could be seen now. Shuffling behind the two, this one was on foot and roped to one of the horses. His hands and feet were shackled, his neck trapped in an iron collar. His shirt was torn to little more than rags.

“It's Micah!” Gideon rasped. “I tried to warn him! I told him he should stay with the others.”

There was no more time for words. The men drew up their horses, waiting as Gideon and Asa approached and slowed the wagon.

Mac stood totally upright, his ears pricked, his tail fanned, and the noise in his throat, though low, still a threatening grumble. Gideon reached behind him and caught hold of the dog's collar and held on. “Stay, Mac. Stay,” he warned.

As they drew to a halt, the slave, Micah, turned toward them, his eyes sparking with recognition. Though the boy still seemed to
pulse with anger and resentment, Gideon thought he also detected a glint of fear.

“I've seen these two before,” Asa said in a low whisper. “Low as they come.”

Both men on horseback were filthy. One was burly with a matted beard and hands the size of dinner plates. He carried a shotgun, held at the ready. The other, holding up a lantern, had a narrow-faced, weasel look about him. Long, greasy gray hair fell ragged and uncombed around his face, spilling out from a broad-brimmed hat covered with dust. His expression was one of raw meanness. Gideon knew the noticeable absence of a gun didn't necessarily mean he didn't have one.

Something in the eyes of these men signaled a warning that spelled danger.

There had been no time to react. Now, facing these two, Asa felt a numbing chill of certainty that they meant nothing but trouble for himself and Gideon. He had narrowly escaped them once before, three years ago down around Uhrichsville. He and the captain had been on horseback, with a runaway and his son riding double right behind them. The captain had spotted them just in time, and they'd managed to pull off the road and into the woods until they passed by.

These were the same two slave hunters, he was sure of it. The captain had called them “blackbirders.” They would capture anyone with black skin—freed men with papers like himself, women and children, young or old. The law meant absolutely nothing to them. They wouldn't think twice of picking off a man who had been free his entire life and hauling him down to the nearest auction block.

They were vile and contemptible men, men to avoid at all costs.

And now they were here, in front of them.

Somehow, some way, he had to keep the boy beside him from doing something foolish and getting hurt—and at the same time, help the hotheaded Micah get away from them.

But how?

“Well now, boys,” said the thin man with the long gray hair. “Where might the two of you be headed?”

Though it galled Asa all through, he kept his head down in a deferential pose as he replied. “Just on our way back home, suh, to where we lives.”

“And where would
home
be?”

“Just on the other side of Uhrichsville, suh.”

“What's
your
name?” The man jabbed a finger in Gideon's direction.

“Me?”

As if young Gideon had instantly caught on to what Asa was up to—what they had to do—
must
do—he adopted the guise of a not-overly-bright youth. Even his voice changed. “Why, I'm Gideon Kanagy. And this here,” he said pointing to Asa, “is my daddy's overseer. We're just on our way back from delivering some produce from our harvest up to Canton.”

The stocky man with the shotgun sneered. “You ever heard tell of a slave bein' an overseer, Herb?”

“Never did, Rusty.”

“Oh, Asa ain't no slave, mister,” Gideon hurried to say. “He's a free man.”

“A free man, eh?” the one called
Rusty
said. “You got papers, Mr.
Free Man
?”

“Papers—oh, yes, suh. I surely do.”

“Well, get down off that wagon and show 'em to me!”

The thickset man darted a look at his partner—
Herb.

Asa stalled for a moment, pretending to search his pockets, though he already knew they had no real interest in his papers.

“I said
down!
Both of you!”

The bearded man leveled the shotgun at Asa, who grinned and waved his papers over his head as he clambered down out of the wagon.

Keeping the man with the gun in view out of the corner of his eye, Gideon took his time climbing down from the wagon. The instant he touched ground, he pretended to stumble and go to his knees, groping the ground with both hands as if to steady himself.

He came up with a large, jagged rock in each hand. Whipping around toward the man with the gun, he hurled the biggest one straight for the man's head, immediately following it with a throw directly in front of the horse just to spook him.

The man bellowed and grabbed his head with his free hand. The horse reared and threw him to the ground, hard enough to knock the gun free. Then the animal stormed away, pounding the road as he made his escape.

Asa dived out of the gun's range, scooping up a rock of his own and hurling it toward the same man, now on the ground.

In that instant Gideon saw Asa charge forward and grab the shotgun, sling it up under his arm, and target the man on the ground with it.

Meanwhile the gray-haired “Herb” slid down from his horse, righted himself, and turned toward Gideon, who this time launched a rock at
him.
He missed, but in that instant Mac leaped from the wagon and charged the man, snarling and barking like he'd gone mad. With one punishing lunge of his solidly muscled body, he hit the man full-force, knocking him to the ground. The man hit the road with a thud and lay groaning.

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