A small smile turned up Jack’s mouth. If it gave him pleasure to see her plead, she didn’t care. She’d gladly appear weak to secure Samuel’s release.
“Who?” Jack demanded.
“Pardon me?” Lisbeth asked.
“Who would you like me to release?”
Lisbeth exhaled in relief. Her skin tingled with hope. “Oh, thank you!” she exclaimed. “I am so grateful for your kindness.”
“Write the name, and I will consider your request,” Jack growled, sliding a piece of paper to Lisbeth. “No promises.”
Grateful for this change of spirit, she wrote Samuel Freedman and handed the paper to Jack. He opened it slowly and snorted when he read it.
“The moment you walked in that door, I knew what you wanted from me,” Jack said. “You think it was an accident that I rounded him up? You believe I am an utter fool.”
Jack’s eyes burned with fury. Lisbeth’s heart pounded fiercely.
“I know exactly who he is, and I knew the moment he arrived in Richmond. If Samuel hadn’t been a successful runaway, you never would have gotten the idea that you could just up and leave. That family ruined my life. This is my payback to you, Elizabeth.” Jack drew out each word.
Lisbeth’s throat tightened, the taste of metal filled her mouth, and moisture sprang from her pores.
“You taught him to read.” Jack glared at her, venom in his blue eyes. “It took me a while, but when I finally figured that out it all made sense to me. That was the beginning of the end for us. And now he comes to Richmond saying he’s a goddamned lawyer.” Jack’s face was red, and he spit as he said, “A nigger lawyer? Not in my town!”
Lisbeth’s ears buzzed from the fierce beating of her heart.
Jack’s voice went quiet. “His life is over, and there is nothing, absolutely nothing, you can do to save him. You will have to live with that knowledge for the rest of your life.”
“Please, Jack,” Lisbeth implored, tears in her eyes. She didn’t care how pathetic she looked. “It is my fault, not his. He had absolutely nothing to do with my choice to marry Matthew.”
“The tables are turned,” Jack hissed with a smirk. “I have the power to make a decision that affects you, and there is nothing you can do about it.”
Lisbeth bit her lip, willing herself not to cry.
“Out!” Jack bellowed, and pointed. “Get out of my sight before I round up your precious Mattie too! I would have done so already, but there’s no market for leasing out old women.”
Before she made it to the door, Jack spoke again, taunting her even more. “Sister, would you like to know whom I’ve leased him to?”
Lisbeth froze in place, her heartbeat hammering so hard the sound filled up her ears and she could hardly hear her brother’s words.
“Edward Cunningham!” Jack gloated in triumph. “God has provided me with the sweetest revenge.”
Lisbeth rushed out of the study. She climbed up the stairs, her legs shaky, praying she would not pass anyone. Quickly she closed and locked the door to the bedroom. Shame poured through her body like black tar. She was so naïve! Samuel’s situation was far more dire than she had understood, and she was to blame for his fate. Samuel’s arrest had been intentional.
She sank onto the bed, tears streaming down her face and regret filling every pore. She felt desperate and alone. Lisbeth longed for her husband. The urgent desire for Matthew’s counsel and his comfort was a physical pressure. She imagined his face, the comfort of his embrace, and reassured herself that she would be with him again soon.
After the tears of frustration and anger stopped, she was left with a burning desire to get Samuel freed. She refused to surrender easily to Jack, and she was not going to face Mattie without some hope for securing Samuel’s release. Her mind swirled with ideas until she finally came up with a possible plan, but first she had to ask her husband.
Dearest Matthew,
As always the children and I miss you, and home, terribly. We look forward to being together soon.
I have some disturbing news, which leads me to make a request. I can hardly believe it, but Samuel Freedman has been convicted for the crime of vagrancy—by my own brother! He has been sentenced to laboring for three months, but we fear that the sentence will be extended or that he may be worked to death, which is the sad fate of too many freedmen at this time.
My attempt to convince Jack to release Samuel was unsuccessful. The Freedmen’s Bureau is unable to provide us with any assistance besides assurances they will look into the situation. My understanding is they do not have the staff to adequately remedy this injustice. I cannot live with myself if I do not do something more.
I do not want to put your family at risk, but I wish to ask your brother Mitch to intervene on Samuel’s behalf. Please tell me as soon as possible if my thinking is amiss.
Your loving wife,
Lisbeth
Lisbeth wiped her eyes and studied her warped reflection in the mirror. It wouldn’t be immediately apparent that she had been so upset. She found her children playing in the yard and invited each of them to write a note to their father. Sadie’s letter was as sweet as she expected.
Poppa,
I miss you very much and look forward to being home soon. Please greet all of the animals for me, most especially Brownie. Tell her she is my favorite cow (but don’t tell the other cows since that is not kind).
Your daughter,
Sadie
Sammy wrote furiously.
He handed his letter to Lisbeth when he was finished and asked, “Is this good?”
Lisbeth could feel her son’s intense focus on her as she read his letter. Her emotions rose to a high peak once again as she read.
Poppa,
You would be proud at how helpful I am being to Momma. I mind Sadie whenever she asks, and am cooperative at all times. Johnny loves his glove. Please do not be angry with me for giving my glove to my new friend, Willie. Momma says I can work to earn a new one. He has so little, and it made him very happy. His poppa was arrested for nothing. I don’t understand how that can happen in America. It’s not fair, but nobody but us cares.
Willie’s mother wants him to live with us in Ohio so he will be safe. Momma and I think that is a good idea. You will like Willie very much too. Please write back with your answer.
I hope to see you soon.
Your son,
Sammy
When she finished reading the note she nodded at Sammy and assured him it was fine. She’d become so occupied with Mattie and Samuel that she’d pushed aside Emily’s request, but of course Sammy was most concerned about Willie. She wrote a postscript on her letter.
PS Emily has requested that we take Willie in, permanently. She believes his opportunities will be severely limited if he continues to live with her. I will have to make a decision before we leave. Please share your thoughts with me.
She enclosed the three notes in an envelope and sealed it. It would be hard to wait for his reply, but there was nothing else to do for now.
CHAPTER 18
JORDAN
Richmond, Virginia
Jordan was exhausted, but sleep wouldn’t come. They had put Ella between them in the upstairs bedroom, but the girl hadn’t settled down until she climbed out of the bed and curled up on the floor without so much as a blanket. Jordan envied the slumbering child. Each time Jordan closed her eyes, the vision of Samuel being dragged away popped into her mind’s eye, causing despair to well up in her, filling her with equal measures of rage and sorrow. It was impossible to sleep with a racing heart.
She kept imagining the horrified look on her father’s face when he received the telegram. Then she would picture Nora’s tears when Pops informed her that her husband was being held captive. Jordan worried about her father making that journey on his own, but even more she hoped he wouldn’t be foolish enough to have Nora and Otis come as well.
The more she thought about her family in Ohio, the more riled up she became.
Finally her chest became so tight she felt as if she were suffocating. In a panic she sat up. Her breath was so jerky she couldn’t take in any air. Mama sat up next to her; apparently she’d been awake too. Mama put one hand on Jordan’s back and took her hand in the other.
“Breathe in deep and slow, baby,” Mama said.
Jordan tried, but her lungs were too clenched.
“Take your time,” Mama encouraged her.
Jordan looked at her mother. How could she be so calm?
“Take care of yo’ breathing,” Mama said. “You can do that right now to help yo’ brother.”
Jordan closed her eyes to concentrate on her own body. She felt her mother’s hand on her back. She dropped her shoulders, and suddenly her lungs had space. Jordan took in a little air. There was room for more, so she kept inhaling, slowly filling her lungs. She leaned back as she exhaled. A tingle passed through her as much-needed oxygen filled her body.
“That’s right,” Mama soothed. “You doing it.”
A few breaths later Jordan slowly lifted her eyelids.
“When that fear start risin’ in you, you got to hand it over to God—especially in the night. When you can’ do, you got to pray.”
Jordan gave a little nod, grateful for her mama’s calm presence. It had been years since she’d needed Mama because she was scared, but Mama was a great comfort now, just as she had been when Jordan was a child.
“Ready for some prayer?” Mama asked.
Jordan still could not speak, so she nodded. Perhaps the Holy Spirit would fill her again as it had in the church with Lisbeth.
“Dear God, it me, Mattie . . . and Jordan too. Please watch over our Samuel. Keep him safe from lasting harm to his body and soul. God guide us to help him best. And, Lord”—Mama’s voice broke in the middle of the prayer—“please get him to be free again. Amen.”
“Amen,” Jordan echoed.
“Don’ you feel better?” Mama asked.
Jordan nodded. She was calmer, but it felt like a tenuous peace. Fear and panic were still fluttering around the periphery of her heart.
“All the time I ask God, ‘Keep him safe; set him free,’” Mama said. “It just running in my mind always. You do the same,” she instructed. “And rub one of yo’ mustard seeds. It gonna make you feel better and help yo’ brother too.”
Jordan rolled the seeds between her fingers and prayed in her head. God, keep Samuel safe and set him free. Keep him safe. Set him free. Please keep him safe and set him free.
Jordan exhaled with a sigh, nodded, and gave her mother a small smile. Fear and panic edged out a little further, suddenly replaced by exhaustion. Jordan slipped under the covers, and the tension in her body melted into the mattress. She turned to her side and closed her eyes. Mama rubbed her back and sang. Jordan’s silent prayer for her brother mixed with the words of the familiar lullaby, providing comfort though nothing had really changed for any of them, until she finally fell asleep.
In the morning Jordan was anxious to make the rounds at the offices they had visited the day before, but Mama insisted that it was too soon and that they needed to do some good in the world first, starting with Ella.
Miss Grace pulled out the washtub in the laundry room. Jordan only needed to boil one pot of water to bring the bath to a nice temperature. Ella watched the preparations with a mixture of fear and interest on her face.
“It’s ready,” Jordan told the child.
Ella didn’t make a move.
“You may get in,” Jordan instructed.
Ella looked confused. Had she really never had a bath before? Jordan didn’t think that was true, because Mama was always going on about the blessing of a warm-water bath in contrast to the cold ones from before.
Jordan explained, “This is just a bath, to get you clean. You’ve had baths before, right?”
Ella nodded. Then she pointed to her chest and asked, wonder in her voice, “I going first?”
“Yes.” Jordan smiled. She was amused by the look of surprise on Ella’s face. “Is this the first time you’ve bathed in clean water?” she asked.
Ella bit her lip and nodded.
“Then today is a special day for you. Go on . . . hop in,” she encouraged.
Ella shook her head a little; fear overtook her wonder.
“What’s the matter?” Jordan asked.
Ella pointed at the soap.
“Are you scared of the soap?” Jordan asked.
Ella nodded as she shivered by the tub.
“Do you think it will burn your skin?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ella replied.
Jordan picked up the soap and rubbed it between her hands under the water. She smeared the creamy liquid onto the tender skin over her pulse and waited a moment to see if it stung.
“This soap does not contain lye. It doesn’t hurt me,” Jordan declared, “so it won’t hurt you.”
“You sure?” Ella asked.
“See for yourself.” Jordan put a dab on the girl’s arm. “If you don’t like how it feels, we can just use a washcloth.”
The girl stared at her arm, waiting for the burn that didn’t come. She climbed into the bathwater, gripping the sides of the tub carefully as she sat down. Her shoulders dropped as the soothing water surrounded her. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Jordan took vicarious pleasure in Ella’s enjoyment.
“Is the soap to your satisfaction?” Jordan asked.
Ella looked confused.
“Do you like it enough to use it?” Jordan clarified.
Ella nodded, took the bar from Jordan, and started washing up. Jordan was sad to see all the cuts and scratches that marked up the little girl’s arms and legs. Some still had scabs, others had healed over, and a few looked like they were going to leave marks for life.
“What kind of work did you do? Before the soldiers brought you here?” Jordan asked.
“I picked cotton. I ain’t too fast, but I ain’t too slow either,” Ella said.
Jordan nodded, but she didn’t have a response. She wanted to reassure Ella that her cotton-picking days were behind her, but she did not want to make a statement that might not be true. As much as she had come to care for this little girl, the child’s future was uncertain.
Miss Grace came in with a jar in one hand and said, “Rub a little of this in your hair when you’ve finished washing it. This is guaranteed to make your hair softer and easier to comb out.”
“What is it?” Jordan asked.
She replied, “Mrs. Jefferson from church sells this magic elixir. She won’t tell us what’s in it, but we love it.”
Neither Jordan nor Ella had ever seen anything like it. Mama and Jordan pressed flaxseeds for oil to soften their hair, but she’d never seen a hair cream for sale.
“And here’s a dress for you, Ella,” Miss Grace said, holding up a hanger in her right hand.
The little girl’s brown eyes got big with excitement when she saw the brown striped dress with a high collar and pleated skirt.
“It’s beautiful, Ella,” Jordan said. “You will look like a queen when we are done.”
After Ella got out of the bath, Jordan combed through her hair and plaited it into twelve little braids. They rubbed oil into her skin, making it smooth with a light shine. Jordan brought her to the mirror upstairs to see the outcome of her transformation. Ella stood in front of her own reflection; Jordan stood behind her. The girl looked at the image before her and then looked around at Jordan, and then back again.
“Have you ever seen yourself in a mirror before?” Jordan asked.
Ella bit her lip and shook her head. Jordan gave Ella’s arms a little squeeze. There were so many little pleasures in life that Jordan took for granted that this child had never experienced.
“You will get used to all these changes soon enough,” Jordan reassured the little girl with a smile. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. This child might not be her cousin. Or she was her cousin, but Sarah woul
d bring her to live back in the quarters at Fair Oaks. That shack didn’t have a full-length mirror or hair cream. This child’s fate was uncertain—and it wasn’t in Jordan’s hands. Perhaps it was cruel to be exposing her to these luxuries in life. All this might be lost to her in a few days.
When they came into the living room, Mama and Miss Grace clapped approval for Ella’s new look.
“You look like a princess,” Mama declared.
“Thank you, Auntie!” the girl said, beaming at the two women.
Ella looked proud and confident. Jordan was stunned at the transformation in the little girl. It felt good to show this child that she deserved to be showered with praise and treated with respect. It might only be temporary right now, but Jordan hoped it would give Ella something to aspire to forever.
“Would you like to come with us this time?” Jordan asked Ella. She kept her voice light for the child. She didn’t want her worry for Samuel to cloud Ella’s day. First they were going to visit the Freedmen’s Bureau to see if Mr. Brooke had made any progress on securing Samuel’s release. After that they would attempt to bring Samuel some food at the auction house. Miss Grace said that the prisoners often went hungry, which only served to increase Jordan’s concern.
Ella nodded vigorously. She and Mama had considered leaving Ella behind again, but it felt unkind to continue abandoning her, though Miss Grace was happy to have Ella remain with her. They decided it would be good to expose her to more of the world, though it might be uncomfortable at times. In truth, in her short life this child had experienced much more cruelty and indifference than Jordan ever had.
Mr. Brooke was as unhelpful as he had been the day before. He had no news or plan, but was “awfully sorry.” Jordan didn’t see the point in even coming to the Freedmen’s Bureau, but when they left Mama said that she would see him tomorrow.
It took less than ten minutes to walk the half mile downhill to the auction house. Jordan felt protective of Ella as they approached the ominous building. She steeled herself for a miserable sight, but she wasn’t prepared for the awful smell that assaulted her nose. The stench from bodily waste made it difficult to even inhale once they were within a few yards of the building. Jordan felt ill at the horrid conditions her brother was being held in.
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