by Naomi Finley
“I’m aware of the inequity to slaves, but free blacks can live in peace and prosperity amongst the whites.”
Awareness of Jane’s privileged mentality elicited by her upbringing left me lost for words.
“Can you believe this?” Kipling rocked on his heels. Passion and rage gleamed in his eyes as he peered at me. “This woman’s principles are as defiled as those of any slave owner.”
I touched his arm. “Let me handle this.”
“Very well.” He threw his hands in the air, and veered past Jane to march back toward the plantation.
She observed him before shifting to face me. “I’m disappointed in you, Mrs. Armstrong. I’ve carried the utmost respect for your father and you, but I can’t uphold the knavery of what I witnessed here. Mr. Armstrong and Mr. Hendricks and good men like them risk their lives to preserve the ways of the South while you trifle with the enemy.”
I gasped at her brashness. “How dare you?” I seethed. “I’ve given you shelter when you didn’t have a home to go to. Maybe the real enemy here is you!”
She gasped, and her hand slipped to her throat.
Tears of frustration swelled in my eyes, and I closed my eyes to squeeze them off. “Please, Jane.” I regarded her. “If you have any measure of mercy in you, I beg you not to cause any trouble. I will see he leaves here today.”
“I suggest you do,” she said.
I fought the urge to tell her to remove herself from my property within the hour, fearing that approach would cause more harm than good. I avoided meeting her gaze as I swerved by her and strode back toward the house.
“Mrs. Armstrong, everything all right?” Uriah’s brow wrinkled as I stormed up the back steps.
“Yes,” I said in a daze and whirled to discover Jane headed our way. I couldn’t stand to be in her company for a moment longer and circled the veranda to the front.
Whitney lazed on the porch swing with a book. She looked up as I marched toward her and straightened. “What has you all stirred up?” She lowered the book and peered behind me as though expecting someone on my heels.
I didn’t answer until she was within arm’s length. “Jane knows about Kipling and has threatened to expose us.”
“Threatened you?” Whitney’s hackles rose, and her green eyes flashed.
“Keep your voice down,” I said through clenched teeth. I planted my hands on my waist and paced in front of her. “Tonight, we will get Kipling out. You and I will take the old wagon we used for transporting fugitives. We will take him to Point Royal.”
“Are you insane?” She caught my wrist and yanked me to a halt. “If you thought transporting runaways was dangerous, this is like laying your head in the mouth of a lion. The roads are policed by the Home Guards, not to mention Confederate and Federal soldiers prowling all over this state.”
“Do you think I don’t know that? We have no choice. Our hand is forced,” I whispered back.
“All right.” She wrung her hands. “Say we get him out, and by some chance, we get back here undiscovered; what are you going to do about the traitor in our midst?”
“I don’t know,” I said helplessly.
“Surely you aren’t considering letting her remain at Livingston—”
The pounding of horses’ hooves distracted us from our conversation and we spun to peer at the lane. My heart skipped, and I clutched Whitney’s arm. “It’s the Home Guards. I have to hide Kipling.” I raced across the veranda. “You see to them,” I said over my shoulder.
“Me?” Whitney cried. “But—”
Her voice faded as I charged around the side of the house and collided with someone.
“Take it easy, ma’am,” Uriah said, gripping my arms to steady me. “What is the trouble?”
I gulped, panic stealing my words. I spotted Jane observing us from below, but as she heard the horses approaching, her gaze shifted to the front yard. A look of relief spread across her face.
I tore myself from Uriah’s grip and raced down the back steps and across the work yard to the barn. I threw open the door and charged inside.
“Kipling,” I shouted. “Kip…” I spun around.
“I thought you insisted I lie low, but here you are bellowing for all to hear.” He stepped from the shadows.
“The Home Guards are coming up the lane. We need to get you inside and out of sight.”
I grabbed his hand, and we raced back the way I’d come.
“Get Jane,” I said to Jones as he exited the kitchen house with a slab of ham in hand. “She knows.”
Jones’s gaze drifted by me to the front of the house. He cursed, dropped the ham, and bolted off.
Kipling and I raced toward the back steps and rushed inside the house.
“In here.” I halted at the closet under the stairs.
“Willow, is everything all right?” Pippa descended the stairs.
“Pippa, thank God. Get him hidden.” I released Kipling and raced to the door. Pausing to catch my breath, I gripped the doorknob and looked back. Pippa opened the closet, and she and Kip ducked inside. I whispered a prayer before stepping outside to meet whatever fate awaited us.
My heart hammered against my ribcage, and a stitch formed in my side.
“Good morning, Mr. Carlton.” Whitney stood at the end of the path as Josephine’s husband and his posse reined their horses to a stop. “How do you all fare today?”
“Good, good,” he said before studying Jones where he stood clutching Jane’s arm.
I guessed Jones had been too late to remove her without causing suspicion. Uriah stood at the corner of the veranda, eyeing Jones and his wife, appearing confused.
“We are doing our rounds in this area,” Theodore Carlton said. “What’s the trouble there?” He nudged his head at Jane.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” Jones grunted. “Caught this one trying to run off. Hauled her back to administer the whipping she’s had coming for a while. The rebellious sort.”
Uriah gasped and, eyes widening, he looked to me. I lightly shook my head, my eyes pleading for him to remain silent.
“Run off, ya say,” Theodore said with a snort of disgust. “Soon as our backs are turned, these damn niggers take to running. In fact, I just captured this one along the road.” He pointed the butt of his whip behind him, and I leaned to see past him before fighting back a sob at the lifeless, bloodied form of a slave boy slumped over the rump of a young guard’s mount. Theodore grinned. “His master told me he’d run off, and I told him if I ran across him, I’d haul him back. Didn’t expect the dog to put up such a fight.”
I descended the stairs, and all reasoning left me as I went to the side of the horse holding the dead boy. “He isn’t but ten,” I said, wrestling back the tears. “I’m sure when his master asked you to keep an eye out for him, he didn’t expect you to bring him back dead.” I kept my eyes lowered, afraid they’d reveal the profound ache in my soul and my mounting rage.
“They’re hiding a Federal soldier,” Jane blurted.
I froze.
Theodore stiffened and twisted in his saddle. “What did you say?”
I moved away from the dead boy and circled the horses to stand in front of the Home Guards.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, Livingston has become a wayside hospital for the Confederate soldiers,” I said.
Theodore shifted his piercing gaze to me. “I’ve heard. But what of the nigger’s claim of you sheltering a Union soldier?”
My shoulders slumped, and I lowered my gaze, pressing weary fingers to my temples. “Our days are long and exhausting, with caring for the soldiers the army brings here. We are weary. One’s mind becomes consumed with the horrors of war. Long after I lay in bed, I hear the soldiers’ cries. My nights are filled with nightmares of the Federal Army invading our lands and overtaking us.” I lifted my gaze and glanced at Jane as Uriah positioned himself at her side and whispered something to her. “The blacks are delicate creatures, so I reckon it’s been too much for he
r to handle. She has suffered from night terrors and dashes through the house claiming a Union soldier is on her heels. As you can imagine, it gives everyone quite a fright.”
“She is lying. I saw him for myself,” Jane interrupted.
Uriah looked at his wife, dumbfounded, and gripped her arm. “Woman, be silent.”
Jane shook him off and hurled a glare in my direction. Fear and determination glistened in her dark eyes. “I’m not crazy. I speak the truth.”
Theodore looked from her back to me.
I shook my head and extended my arms. “If it would ease your mind, you can examine the grounds yourself.”
Theodore nodded at an elderly man and a boy. “Bedford and Singleton, check the house.”
“The barn. He is hiding in the barn,” Jane said, struggling to get free from Jones.
“Jones, release her. And show these gentlemen to the barn,” I said. “Let’s settle this matter once and for all. I’m sure Mr. Carlton and his men have more pressing matters.”
The muscles in Jones’s neck corded, and he shoved Jane at her husband. “See to your woman.”
After the men and Jones stalked off toward the barn, I looked up at Theodore to find him regarding me with curiosity. “Is there something wrong?” I said.
He swung off his horse and stood looking at the house. “If you don’t mind, me and the boys will take a look inside.”
I swallowed the nerves churning my stomach. “Of course. Follow me.” I feigned cheerfulness and spun to walk inside. Whitney ducked her head to avoid my gaze and strode slowly and calmly ahead of us.
Inside, Theodore and the others tromped from room to room, tracking mud over the floors. Mammy stood at attention in the corridor with her head bowed and jaw set. I could only imagine the distress and annoyance rising inside her.
Legs leaden, I guided them up the stairs and through each chamber before returning to the main floor. “And that is all,” I said. “I hope the tour of my home satisfies any suspicion she has caused.”
Theodore looked around before his gaze halted, and he gestured to a boy. “Have you checked that door?”
I glanced in the direction he pointed, and my breath caught as he motioned at the closet under the stairs.
“No, sir,” the boy squeaked.
“Then do it,” Theodore said sharply.
The boy hurried down the corridor, and Theodore returned his gaze to me. I graced him with a smile while inside, I felt anything but calm.
“All clear, sir,” the boy called.
“All right, let’s saddle up.” Theodore marched to the door and strode outside as Jones and the others returned. “Well, did you find anything?”
“All clear,” they said in unison.
Theodore glowered at Jane, who gawked at him.
“He is here somewhere. I swear.”
“Lying nigger,” Theodore spat and descended the stairs. Before pulling himself up onto his horse, he eyed me. “It would do you good to teach her a lesson. If only I could stay around to witness it myself. I would find much pleasure in seeing her lying skin peeled from her body.”
My hands tightened at my sides. “She will be dealt with, I assure you. My apologies for the trouble she has caused.”
The Home Guards mounted and rode out.
“What have you done?” Uriah shouted, and I turned as he struck his wife across the face. “Have you forgotten who you are? Or that I too was born a slave?”
She stood cupping her cheek. “You must believe me, Uriah. I saw him with my own eyes,” she pleaded. “Just this morning.” She sent an accusing glare my way. “She is hiding him.”
The channel of rage inside me erupted, and I stormed at her. “Have you witnessed nothing? Did you see that boy slung over their saddle, his feet raw from the chase? If I know Theodore, the boy didn’t die easily. How can you stand for that?” I stomped my foot and kept my hands pinned at my sides. God help me, but I wanted to wring her slender neck between my hands. “You’re no better than a slave master. Do you possess any compassion in you at all? You are a mother, for God’s sake. And a black, at that.”
Jane swallowed hard but tilted her head with unbending pride.
“Mrs. Armstrong,” Uriah said. I looked from his wife to him. Regret etched his expression. “I’m deeply sorry for the inconvenience she has caused. Your father was my friend and never showed me anything but kindness and respect during my years under his employment. My wife has dishonored that friendship with her treachery. We will pack our things and be gone.”
“Unfortunately, I think it’s best,” I said with a heavy heart. “I can’t house someone who seeks to harm me and those I care about.”
He bowed his head in acquiescence before clutching Jane’s elbow and leading her away.
I waited on the veranda with Whitney and Pippa as Jane and Uriah walked down the lane not long after. Uriah’s usual leisurely gait had been modified by determination, and he walked briskly to put distance between him and his wife, forcing her to half run to keep up. Despondent, I rubbed the chill from my arms. “I hope no harm befalls them.”
“And what would it matter if it did?” Whitney’s voice lacked all empathy. “After you gave them a home, she repays you like that?”
“The crime isn’t Uriah’s. Besides, I can’t help but feel sorry for her.”
“Sorry for her?” Whitney threw her hands in the air. “You can’t be serious.” She swung to face me. “The woman almost signed our death warrants.”
I never let my gaze leave the couple. “She can’t see past the privileges awarded to her as a free black. She is deceived by the disease of hostility that rules our world.”
“Has chosen to be deceived, you mean,” Whitney huffed.
“Perhaps we shouldn’t come to a conclusion too quickly about her.”
“And why not?”
“Because,” Pippa said. I turned to lean against the railing as she continued. “Too often, we judge and attack each other instead of choosing to stop and truly listen to the reasoning behind another’s actions. If we would but heed each other’s pain and concerns, we could stop this war and any that might follow.”
“Pippa is right. Fear has become our ruler. If we don’t stand unified, it is all of humankind that will suffer.”
“Well, thanks for the Sunday sermon, ladies, but I think I will need a day or two to process my annoyance with Jane.” Whitney marched inside and the door shut on her retreat.
Jaw unhinged, I looked at Pippa. “Well, she took that well.”
“She will come to her senses; we are all under a great deal of pressure.” She encircled my shoulders with an arm and led me to the door.
“I hope so…”
“WELL, AIN’T YOU TWO A sight.” Mammy marched into my chamber as Whitney stepped from behind the privacy screen, dressed in men’s apparel.
“I don’t lak et one bit. Not one bit, I tell ya.” She balled her hands on her ample hips. “Dem soldiers git ahold of ya, dey gwine have demselves a grand ol’ time wid two purty gals lak you.”
“Oh, hush, Mammy. Don’t talk like that. I won’t be drowned in your fears today,” I said with a scowl. Nerves had chased me all day, and her grievances wouldn’t help.
“Et ain’t fear but good sense. You two shouldn’t be out dere on dem roads alone.”
“It hasn’t stopped us before.” I fastened the last button on my husband’s shirt before donning his coat.
“And you ain’t bin in de middle of a war ’fore.” The creases in her forehead deepened. “I knowed you put me in my grave ’fore my time. Done knowed et since I laid my eyes on ya.”
“Would you prefer that Kipling stays? You saw what happened today. It’s too dangerous.”
“I know he got to go, but why can’t Jones take him?”
“Because we need Jones here in case the Federals show up.”
She huffed and grumbled under her breath.
Whitney pinned up her auburn locks before setting a floppy hat ove
rtop and pulling it snuggly down. In an extravagant show, she twirled around for us to get a good look at her. “Well, how do I look?” Her grin spread from ear to ear.
“Like Ruby when she showed up here in disguise with Kipling some years back.” The image of Ruby flashed in my mind’s eye.
“Well, it’s been a while since you and I have been on an adventure.”
“Adventure?” Mammy’s voice rose. “Is dat what we are calling et? Dis war has gone to evvyone’s head. I’m sick of dem soldier boys lying all over de house, bleeding all over my floors. De sooner dis war is over, de better. You know I lak a clean—”
“Yes, Miss Rita, we know. You like a clean house,” Whitney said brightly. “Just think, when this war is over, they will be gone, and you will continue to raise hell for years to come.”
Mammy scoffed and narrowed her eyes. “Dat ain’t no fitting way for a lady to talk. Ef I were your mama, I would have—”
“Put the fear of God in me?” Whitney’s eyes glittered with sly merriment.
I held my breath as the bear before us exited her den and unhinged her jaw. “Now you listen here—”
“Oh, Mammy, I wish you wouldn’t fuss so. We will be careful and return by week’s end.” I strode to the looking glass and regarded the young man gazing back at me. I imagined if I had a younger brother, he would resemble this reflection.
“Have et your way. I know you gwine to anyway.” Mammy came to stand beside me and fully inspected my reflection.
“What?” I said when her brow puckered.
“Ef someone git a couple feet from you, dey gwine to know you ain’t men. Ef you fixing to do dis—wait here; I’ll be back.” She marched to the door and disappeared.
Whitney sat on the edge of the bed, and I walked to a chair by the window and sat to wait for Mammy’s return.
“What do you suppose she is up to?” Whitney sent me a nervous glance after several minutes had passed.
“I don’t know. But she never ceases to surprise me.” I drummed my fingers on the arm of the chair.
“That woman scares me.” Whitney glanced at the doorway, and a part of me enjoyed seeing her squirm.