The Silver Highway

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The Silver Highway Page 36

by Marian Wells


  ****

  Crystal bent over her husband. “Lazy, precious husband,” she murmured, nuzzling his ear. “Do you remember? Last night you promised Amos you’d help him shoe that filly.”

  “Kisses before breakfast, Crystal?” He shoved his pillow at her.

  “My dear,” she teased, “you sound as if you’ve been married at least twenty years.”

  He sat up and studied her with a frown. “Where are you going in that outfit?”

  “I’m cleaning house. If you stay in that bed a moment longer, I’ll let you shake rugs for me.”

  With a shudder he left the bed. “Housework! I can’t believe the torture Northerners willingly endure.”

  Later Crystal gathered the rugs and carried them downstairs. As she started for the door, Olivia hurried out of the parlor. “Crystal!” She stopped in the middle of the hall and stared at the woman. “What are you doing? Where did you find that dress?”

  Crystal looked from the frock to Olivia’s face. “Is it that bad?” she faltered. “I borrowed it from Sadie’s barrel. I couldn’t clean house in silk moire.”

  “Bad isn’t the word,” Olivia said slowly looking up from her examination of the brown print cotton with the too-tight bodice. “Your buttons don’t do the job. Oh, well, the men aren’t going to be in the house. Wave a dust mop at them and they all take off. Matter of fact, you’ll have the place to yourself. I’m going to help Sadie pick beans this morning. This afternoon I’m going to visit Alex.” With a faraway look in her eyes, she sighed and started for the kitchen.

  Crystal finished cleaning the upstairs rooms and came down to get the rugs she had left airing outside the house.

  As she reached the main floor, there was a knock on the door. She tugged at her bodice and hurried to the door.

  The man standing there had started to turn away. When she pulled the door open he came back. His impatient frown disappeared as he surveyed her, lingering over the bodice and mob-cap. “I think I like Pennsylvania country life. However, I didn’t expect to find such lush living. Is the master or your mistress at home?”

  She studied his cocky smile and the spotless white suit he wore. “To whom do you wish to speak?”

  He hesitated and something changed in his eyes. “I’m looking for Matthew Thomas. Do you know of him?”

  Coldly she said, “You’ll find him in the pasture.” She closed the door. Snatching the cap from her head, she ran up the stairs. In her room she stopped to look at herself in the mirror for one minute before she pulled off the dress.

  “All day long,” she fumed, “people have been saying this to you, and you have paid them no mind. Do you have to be hit over the head before you’ll accept what others so readily see?” With a shudder she surveyed the mirrored figure dressed only in chemise and pantaloons. It didn’t matter that the chemise was the most delicate of lace, the mirror confirmed the earlier impression. “Just a plain old nigger. Oh, God! What do I do?”

  Slowly she bathed and selected her most delicate gown. When she went downstairs and into the parlor, Matthew and the stranger jumped to their feet.

  Matthew came to her and took her hand. “My dear, I want you to meet Lucas Tristram, a classmate of mine from Harvard.”

  “Mrs. Thomas—” he bent over her hand. “How delighted I am to find someone has finally taken pity on Matthew and married him!” For a moment, his eyes mocked her and terror filled her heart.

  “Mr. Tristram,” she said slowly, “do you live in the area?”

  “No. The truth is I’ve come just to see Matthew. His father kindly supplied his address.” Tristram bowed toward Matthew. “You may be wondering why I’ve traveled this far for a social call. It isn’t only that. If you’ll be my guests this evening, we’ll find time to talk about it.”

  Matthew laughed, “Then you’ll need to wait for me to wash the pasture and horses off myself. Crystal, you look absolutely stunning the way you are, darling. Will you entertain our guest while I bathe?” He headed for the stairs, and Crystal slowly faced the man.

  “May I offer you some of Sadie’s fresh peach nectar, or would you prefer cold buttermilk? The Coopers have a wonderful root cellar with an icy cold stream to keep us supplied with chilled drinks.”

  “The nectar,” he said with a smile. “Now I suppose you must go back to playing maid?”

  Without answering him she walked toward the kitchen. Sadie and Olivia came into the kitchen with a basket of dried beans. Their hands were dusty and their hair disheveled.

  “We have a guest, a friend of Matthew’s. Do you care to meet him now?”

  Olivia took in the grandeur of Crystal’s gown and grinned. “That sounds like a good idea.” She hurried down the hall.

  Sadie looked from Crystal to Olivia’s departing back. “Oh dear, she’s so dirty. Well,” she shrugged, wiped her hands on a towel and followed Olivia.

  Crystal cocked her head, listened to the voices and headed for the back door. With a smile, she said, “Olivia and Sadie, I think you deserve peach nectar, too.”

  ****

  When Olivia reached Hadenport, the jailer escorted her back to Alex’s cell. Turning his piercing gaze on her, he said, “I could spend all my time guarding this fella while he has guests. I’ve got work to do. I’ll leave the door open, and don’t you get close to them bars.” He marched away. Olivia thrust her hand through the bars, touched Alex’s face, and then stepped back.

  With a catch in her voice she said, “This is worse than the Female Academy in Boston.”

  He tried to smile. “Olivia, you’ll have me standing in the corner yet.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s been so long—the weeks have been forever—and I just simply had to touch you.”

  His voice was husky as he said, “Tell me about yourself. I seldom see you alone. Have you been reading your Bible?”

  “Oh, Alex, I’m afraid I’m ruining it with my tears.”

  “I’ll buy you another one and write in it the things I didn’t dare write before.”

  “What?”

  “‘To Olivia, you are my love.’” Her hand stretched toward him and he shook his head. “He may make you leave.”

  She bit her lip and looked up, blinking tears. Hastily she said, “Alex, does God always come on tiptoe?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I told you about the dream. It was as if God had turned everything inside of me right side up. Life was changed. Alex, I haven’t had opportunity to tell you all that happened that night. I’d like to now.”

  “I’ve been wanting to know, but sensed it wasn’t something you’d care to share with everyone coming through here.”

  She rubbed a fingernail and looked up. “Alex, I nearly turned my back on God. My selfish desires—” She saw his face and knew he understood completely. “Alex, they’re changed. I’ll admit I was nearly ready to run away from you, back to security and freedom. Freedom? Strange, now I know it’s just the opposite; it’s here with God and you. Please don’t look like that. I’ll never want anything except His will. And I’m no longer afraid of Him; His will is suddenly beautiful.

  “But Alex, for a long time God’s will was whispered into me in such a gentle, loving way I nearly ignored it. That night I realized what I was doing. This is the God of the universe, Creator, Savior—how could I have treated Him like a lackey, sent to make me comfortable?”

  She took a step closer and whispered, “Alex, I appreciated the dream so much. It was as if God lifted me and enabled me to do what I couldn’t do for myself—trust Him.”

  “But you were starting to move toward Him,” Alex countered, “I could see the change in you.”

  “His gentleness and patience with me was nearly my downfall. I expected Him to treat me like a doting daddy. I forgot Who He really is until that night when that gentle finger touched all the ugliness in me and I knew I dared not hold onto one bit of my selfishness. The dream was a door opening my mind. Suddenly my whole being was turned ar
ound, and I felt I was started in the right direction.” She paused. “You talked about directions. I thought it meant my direction, but you meant God’s direction. It’s God’s way when we follow repentance, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, my dear. And now our jailer is coming. I must say I love you. I miss you—”

  “I pray constantly that soon—” The man was there, and Olivia turned away.

  ****

  In the early morning, with the sound of birds and the scent of autumn with its fresh hay perfume coming through the window, Crystal pushed her pillow into a wedge and studied her husband’s face.

  When she could no longer resist, she lightly drew her finger down the plane of his face. Without opening his eyes he moved closer. “Matthew?” Finally he opened one eye. “What does that Tristram fellow want?”

  He opened both eyes and raised himself to his elbow. “I don’t think you like him.”

  “I don’t. I’ve seen too many just like him in New Orleans. He’s the perfect dandy who—”

  “What were you going to say?”

  “Nothing I guess. But tell me about him. I know you talked after I came upstairs last night.”

  “And I’m still trying to put it all together. Your ‘perfect dandy’ describes the way he impressed me while we were in school.” He gave her a quick look. “I know you guessed him to be a good friend of mine, but he isn’t. I did form an opinion of him, however, and I don’t think it’s changed much. Right now, if his words are to be trusted, it seems someone has placed a great deal of confidence in him. He appears to have a fund of information which, if true, comes from someone high in Southern politics.”

  “What does he want?”

  “Bright boys to come home and learn how to support the South with all their talents, brains, and money. At least he was candid.”

  “Does that appeal to you?”

  “I don’t know. I’m getting a little tired of this game. There isn’t enough going on. And frankly, I don’t want to risk spending six months in jail like Alex is doing. But on the other hand, I agree with many of Alex’s ideas. This is a time of change for the South. The slaves must be freed; it is the only decent way to treat them.”

  “Decent? That doesn’t sound—compassionate.”

  He shrugged. “Perhaps, but candid. Crystal, I can’t pretend something I’m not. I don’t have Alex’s call. In addition, without slaves, how does the South continue to support their cotton and rice agriculture? It’s a dilemma.”

  He paused, then smiled and drew her close. “How would you like to be a senator’s wife?”

  Chapter 42

  When Olivia had swept her way out the front door, she paused to lean on the broom and blink in the morning sun. From habit she looked down the hill, half hoping to see the Golden Awl at dock. The wharf was empty. She watched a flock of ducks circle and drop into the water. “They are beginning to migrate,” she said, just then becoming aware of the changes in the landscape.

  The grass covering the hillside was drying and beginning to turn brown. The hickory tree had touches of autumn color, while apple trees across the pasture bent under heavy-laden boughs.

  “September. Has it been seven weeks since they locked Alex away? How long Lord?” The complaint turned to prayer. “Father, be gracious to him. Yesterday he seemed discouraged and so very lonely. But not more lonely than I. Father—please deliver him!”

  Olivia turned her back on the sunshine and carried the broom into the house. Crystal came slowly down the stairs. Seeing the shadows in her eyes, Olivia said, “I can guess. Lucas Tristram is still trying to pressure Matthew into joining his crusade. Why does he think his project can help the South?”

  “I don’t think he has much of a crusade going. To me it seems he is a small frog making a big splash.”

  Olivia laughed. “Don’t let him know you feel that way; he’ll feel obligated to defend his honor and challenge Matthew to a duel.”

  “He has been saying strong things to Matthew. And if Matthew hadn’t been questioning the values he’s always known, I think he would be gone in a moment. Thanks to Alex, he’s been doing some deep thinking. Maybe he will make Lucas take a hard look at himself.” She moved restlessly around the hall. “Olivia, I think Matthew is only half committed to this cause, and partly only because Alex has been so terribly burdened by the condition of these people.

  “Matthew is emotionally fragmented inside because he has no reason to decide either for or against. To him Alex seems more like a crusader than simply a man with a desire to help people. Matthew is simply excited for the moment. That worries me terribly.”

  She turned and sighed. “Right now, Matthew and Lucas are sitting in the pub, going over and over the same arguments. Do you know where Sadie and Amos are? I expected them to be here now. I’m to ride into town.”

  “Yes, they went to see Alex. Amelia rode with them. I’m not certain what her mission is today.”

  Crystal started for the stairs and turned. “You’ll be proud of me,” she said with a twisted smile. “While Sadie and Amos are at the meetinghouse today, I’m going to visit Joseph.”

  “Crystal, that’s wonderful!” Olivia said. “Give him our regards.”

  She nodded. “I’m going to get a light wrap and meet the wagon out on the road. I’m certain we’ll be late getting back,” she added, “so don’t plan dinner early.”

  When Crystal left, Olivia finished dusting the parlor and carried her broom to the kitchen. As she poured coffee for herself, she heard the jangle of harness and paused. “Amos is back. He didn’t have much of a visit. Poor Alex—he’s so lonely.” She listened. The wagon paused only momentarily and then left.

  The front door crashed open. “Olivia!” For a moment she couldn’t move. He rushed into the kitchen.

  “Alex!” It wasn’t a dream. His arms were holding her tight and in a wild dance of jubilation he swung her around the kitchen. “Oh, Alex, put me down! Let me see you. Are you home to stay?”

  “No questions until I kiss you.” She touched his beard, and her arms went around his neck. Nearly fainting, she clung and pressed close. While he called her name again and again, he kissed her.

  He held her away, looked at her, and touched her face with a fingertip. “My beautiful wife,” he whispered brokenly, “I can scarcely believe this. Olivia, I used to be afraid you would never want me to kiss you. Why—back then were you so very angry? I don’t remember, did I act—in a way I should not have?”

  She shook her head against his shoulder. “Alex, for a kiss it was perfectly respectable. I—I guess it was, but—” She was silent, thinking back. Blushing, she admitted, “But from that moment on, I never again belonged to myself, and that was very frightening.” She leaned back to look at him. “I didn’t understand for a long time, I knew only that I was disturbed every time I thought of it. Angry? Could that have been love beginning?”

  He nodded, “For me it was. I could never get you out of my mind after that evening.”

  “But you never came again.”

  “I felt completely unworthy, and underneath it all I was fearful of what I had done to you. See, I didn’t forget the slap!”

  With a sigh she slipped out of his arms and looked at him. “Alexander Duncan, I’ll not rest easy until you tell me why you are here when your sentence was to have been six months.”

  He tugged her hand. “Come, sit down. I’ve a great deal to say to you.”

  Olivia poured coffee for him. When they were seated across the table from each other, he said, “Last week they scheduled a hearing for me. One of the beautiful principles of this country is that it is illegal to hold a prisoner indefinitely without a valid charge against him.”

  “You didn’t tell me about the hearing.”

  “I couldn’t bear to get your hopes up, when I had nothing to offer except a prayer for release.”

  “But you are released?”

  He nodded. “The charges are dropped. The attorney for the paddyrollers can’t
locate his clients right now. I suspect those men were completely confident that when they had me, they would find the slaves.” He paused and added, “I find it strange that they didn’t discover the Awl when it’s aground such a short distance away.”

  Slowly it began to sink in. Alex was really free! The tears began to roll down her cheeks as she reached for his hand. “Free. Oh Alex, you are free. Never again will you have to—”

  Roughly he broke in, saying, “Olivia, that’s what I must say. Are you certain you want to be married to me?”

  “With all my heart.”

  “Then if you wish, I’ll give up this project and we’ll go home. To Mississippi or South Carolina.”

  She frowned. “Alex, why are you saying this?”

  “Because I love you too much to subject you to this kind of life against your will.”

  “But your commitment to God?”

  “—Must include my wife’s. If we are to be one, then our commitment to God must reflect this oneness.”

  “Alex, my dear husband! I dared not love you until I faced God and said, ‘Yes—anywhere, and anything.’

  “See? For a long time I was afraid of you, and finally I started trusting God enough to understand. A commitment had to be made before I was free to love you with all my heart. Your commitment is my commitment too.” Olivia got to her feet and as she started around the table, she stumbled over Alex’s bag.

  He came around the table, catching her as she stumbled. “My dear! That bag, I’ll put it away.”

  Carrying it to his bedroom, he opened the door and stopped. Olivia pressed her face against his arm. “I’ve been staying in here while you were gone. I needed—”

  He turned to look at her.

  “I wanted to be close to you,” she whispered, touching his face. Gently he took her hand, led her into the room, and closed the door. “Alex!” She saw the smile on his face, and lifted her arms. “Now you are home with me!”

 

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