Jube snorted, and his gaze returned to roving the room. “Doubt you’d tell me if you knew.” A smile replaced his dark expression, though it did nothing to soften the hard look in his green eyes. His voice rose in a confident lilt. “No matter. If there are runaways here, me and the boys will find ’em. We’ll turn in the abolitionists hidin’ ’em too.”
Wade prayed that his brother would enjoy no such success. While Edith and her father’s interest in the education of the free black population suggested antislavery leanings, Wade had no knowledge as to the family’s involvement in the abolitionist movement, or to what extent. He also prayed that Dahlia would leave via the kitchen after enjoying her treat.
Smiling, Wade clapped Jube on the shoulder. Like a dog, his brother had always had the ability to smell fear, and Wade mustn’t allow him to get so much as a whiff of his concerns. “Have a seat.” He motioned toward a wing chair beside the fireplace. “I’ll have my cook make some coffee to go with the fresh bread she made, and we can catch up over our repast.”
Jube shook his head, sending a wave of relief washing through Wade. “Sorry, Brother, but I’m afraid we’ll have to save our reminiscences for another time. I have an appointment with a Mr. Rea down at the hotel.” He slipped his gold watch—the one Pa had given him for his eighteenth birthday—from his maroon brocade vest. “And it seems I’m already five minutes late.”
Wade walked his brother to the door. “I trust you’ll be in town for a while?”
Jube shrugged as he slipped the watch back into his vest. “Until we’ve turned over every rock lookin’ for those runaway slaves.”
“Then I look forward to a longer visit at your earliest convenience.” His conscience chafed against the lie.
“As do I.” Jube settled his hat over his slicked-down auburn hair. He opened the door then paused, his gaze dropping for a moment to the threshold. When he looked up again at Wade, his expression held uncharacteristic concern. “Take care, little brother, that your misguided sense of justice doesn’t lead you to the wrong side of the law. When the boys and I cast out our net, be advised that we’ll pull in whatever we catch. We won’t discriminate between Northern carp and Mississippi catfish.”
Two hours later, Jube’s warning, or perhaps veiled threat, still rode heavy on Wade’s mind as he guided his horse down the dirt road toward the Applegates’ little Lancaster cottage. Thankfully Dahlia had remained in the kitchen until after Jube left. Wade had considered warning the girl about his brother and the other slave catchers, but no sense in causing the child night terrors. Besides, Dahlia’s pa had likely already learned of Jube’s and his men’s presence. More than once Dahlia’s unguarded comments about her parents and activities at their Georgetown church had caused Wade to suspect that the free black family was somehow involved in the Underground Railroad. Each time she’d seemed about to accidently divulge any such information, Wade had hurried to change the subject. The less he knew about those kinds of activities, the better. While his sympathies lay with those fleeing oppressors like his own family in Mississippi, to outright defy the Fugitive Slave Law felt like a bridge too far.
Not mentioning Jube’s presence to Dahlia had made sense. Whether or not to inform Edith, however, was an entirely different matter. Wade’s shoulders sagged beneath the burden his brother had laid upon him. He gazed at his saddle’s pommel as if he might find the answer in the leather’s dark grain. Teaching free blacks and even supporting the abolitionist cause—legal activities north of the Ohio River—did not make the Applegates lawbreakers. Any mention of Jube’s appearance to Edith would undoubtedly be interpreted as Wade accusing her and her father of unlawful activity.
With each step of his horse the burlap bag containing the rosebush bumped against his leg. Wade expelled a deep sigh. In the weeks since he brought her mother’s picture, he’d felt Edith’s attitude toward him warming. Instead of her earlier cool to almost hostile demeanor, she now regularly greeted him with a warm smile and wave. Last Friday, while waiting for Mr. Applegate to return from the institute, they’d sat together on the porch and discussed the company’s business. To his surprise and delight, Edith had shown a business acumen that, to Wade’s mind, far outdistanced that of her twin brother.
A grin tugged at the corner of Wade’s mouth. He’d commented that she, instead of her brother, should be running the company. When she agreed, they’d shared a laugh, and he’d felt their bond tighten.
Wade’s smile evaporated as the plodding horse brought him within sight of the cottage. Since this morning when he’d acted on his impulsive notion to dig up the rosebush and take it with him to Lancaster, he’d fretted about how Edith might react. His heart had quaked more than once imagining her viewing his good intentions with horror, accusing him of stepping outside his authority and, worse, of ruining her mother’s rosebushes. He didn’t need the added worry of wondering how she might receive a mention of Jube and his slave hunters.
No. Wade would not jeopardize his budding relationship with Edith to mention an unexpected visit from his brother with whom he’d been estranged for three years and who’d likely be gone in a few days.
At the sight of Edith sweeping dead leaves from the porch, Wade’s heart bucked. The gusting November wind played with loose strands of hair framing her face while it painted her alabaster cheeks a deep rose-pink. For a moment he sat still on his horse and drank in her beauty.
She looked up from her work and greeted him with a wave and smile that sent his heart galloping. “Wade. I didn’t hear you coming.” While he’d like to attribute the breathlessness in her voice to his appearance, exertion with the broom had likely left her winded.
As he dismounted he struggled to think of a clever reply. “The wind probably covered the sound of my approach.” Feeling as awkward as a schoolboy with his first sweetheart, he glanced up at the dark gray clouds chasing across the sky. “It looks like it might rain,” he said and groaned inwardly.
She seemed not to notice the stupidity of his comment. Her smile widened as, broom in hand, she descended the two stone steps. “Or snow.” She looked up at the sky. “I am so looking forward to the first snow of the winter.”
Wade’s heart throbbed imagining the two of them snuggled together in a sleigh, a pair of dappled grays whisking them over snow-covered fields.
“Father should be home in a few minutes,” she said, yanking him from his pleasant muse.
The memory of Dahlia’s paper in his vest saved him from standing and gaping like an imbecile. “Dahlia asked me to deliver this.” He eased the folded page from his vest pocket.
When she took it from his hand, their fingers touched for an instant, sending delightful shivers up his arm. Her brown eyes sparkled as she perused the girl’s work. “Oh, this is so well written.” She lifted glistening eyes to him as she refolded the page. “I must show this to Father. He will be so pleased.”
“I brought you something else as well.” Wade’s heart hammered in fear of how she might respond as he lifted the burlap bag bearing the rosebush from his horse’s back. “You’d mentioned that you missed the roses from your old home, so I brought you one of them.”
Her eyes grew wide and her mouth gaped in a look of stunned incredulity that confirmed his worst fears.
Chapter 6
Is your rosebush bloomin’ yet?” Dahlia paused in gathering the other students’ slate boards from their otherwise empty chair seats.
Edith looked up from grading the day’s arithmetic assignment and pressed her lips together to suppress her grin, reining it to a small smile. “No, I’m afraid it won’t bloom again until next spring, Dahlia. But I do appreciate your father fertilizing it for me.”
Dahlia nodded as she resumed collecting the slates. “Pa says there’s nothin’ better for roses than horse manure.”
Once again, Edith was forced to restrain a giggle, not because of Dahlia’s comment about the manure but from the memory of Wade’s face at her reaction that he’d brought her the
rosebush. At his horrified expression she’d realized that he’d misinterpreted her surprise. To her shame she’d found the temptation to prolong his misery a few seconds longer too strong to resist. When she’d finally assured him that she wasn’t angry that he’d dug up the rosebush, the relief on his face had forced her to press her fingers to her lips to keep from laughing.
The memory of her mirth faded, replaced by a sweet emotion she wasn’t yet prepared to name. It seemed impossible that a few short weeks ago she’d dreaded Wade’s weekly visits. Now, she found herself so looking forward to them that the sound of an approaching horse on Friday afternoons caused her heart to skip. To her great joy, Father encouraged her to join him and Wade in their discussions of the company’s business. Each week, she reveled in surprising Wade with her knowledge of the workings of Applegate Pork Packing. His blue eyes had lit when he learned of their shared love of numbers, and on more than one occasion, they’d engaged in animated discussions over how best to improve the company’s profits, mental sparring matches he seemed to relish as much as she did.
Her smile evaporated. Despite Wade’s considerable charms, she must never forget that he hailed from a world far different from hers, a world that bought and sold human beings with the same indifference that Applegate Pork Packing dealt in swine.
Her stomach churned at the thought. A jarring reminder of that ugly reality had come last evening when Father brought home news from the institute that a group of slave catchers had appeared in Madison, aided by no less than the county’s former sheriff and hot pro-slavery advocate, Robert Rea. This morning in the mercantile as she waited to purchase pencils, her friend and minister’s wife, Rosaleen Hale, had verified Father’s unsettling news.
Fear slithered through Edith. Yes, she needed to keep a close watch on her heart concerning Wade Beaumont and remind Dahlia to do the same.
“Edith.” Sophie, with Archie perched on her trim hip, poked her head into the room. “Mr. Beaumont came by to inform me that an unexpected situation has arisen at the plant, so Edwin won’t be coming home at noon to take you back to Lancaster.” Sophie’s eyes and voice expressed her regret as she bounced her son on her hip. “You’ll either have to wait until Edwin comes home later this afternoon to take you back to Lancaster or stay the night here.”
Edith shook her head. “Father has invited the director and his wife to a luncheon at our home tomorrow, so staying here is out of the question.” Disappointment squiggled through her. If she hadn’t given in to Father’s insistence that he drive her into Madison each Tuesday to hold class and have Edwin drive her home, she wouldn’t be stranded without her own buggy. “I’m afraid I have no choice but to wait for Edwin.” As much as she dreaded the thought of a two-hour ride home in the cold darkness, causing Sophie to feel guilty about it would not change the situation. She stifled a sigh and forced a smile. “Don’t fret, Sophie. If Edwin is willing to drive me home after a hard day’s work, I can certainly put up with some chilly night air.”
Relief smoothed out the worry lines creasing Sophie’s forehead, and her expression brightened. “While we’re waiting for Edwin, you can help me plan the Christmas party for the company employees.”
Edith gathered up her students’ work papers and grinned at her sister-in-law, who loved nothing better than planning a party. “Christmas is over a month away, Sophie. Isn’t it a bit early to be planning a party?”
Sophie shifted a fussing Archie to her other hip and gave an exasperated huff. “Edith, there is ever so much to consider in planning a party, and we’ll be holding it the week before Christmas, a scant three weeks from now. So no, this is not a moment too soon.” Her eyes sparkled, and her voice took on an excited lilt. Sophie was in her element. “Of course we must both have new dresses. I’m thinking red for me, and with your coloring, you always look absolutely divine in green, but which shade of green I haven’t yet decided. Oh, and I was looking in Godey’s the other day and saw the most angelic baby gown worn by Queen Victoria’s little boy.” She giggled and gave Archie a squeeze. “I absolutely must have one made for Archie.”
Edith stifled a groan. The prospect of spending all afternoon enduring every mind-numbing detail of Sophie’s party plans far exceeded her dread of facing a cold buggy ride through the November evening. Blocking out Sophie’s prattle, her mind raced in search of an alternative way home as well as an excuse not to wait for Edwin. “I do wish I could get word to Father that I’ll be arriving home so late. I hate the thought of him coming home to a dark house with no prepared supper, and, of course, he will be worried sick about me.” The truth of her words somewhat assuaged her conscience at being less than forthright in why she’d rather not stay. “I suppose I could rent a horse and buggy from the livery.”
“I’d ask Pa to take you home, but he’s down at our church with…” Dahlia piped up then clamped her mouth shut as if she’d said more than she should have.
“I would be more than happy to take you home.” Wade walked into the room, sending Edith’s heart vaulting to her throat. His gaze bounced between Sophie, Edith, and Dahlia. He fingered the gray brim of his John Bull hat. “Forgive my intrusion, Mrs. Applegate. Miss Applegate.” He nodded in turn at Sophie and Edith. “I wanted to stop by and pay you and Miss Dahlia my respects before I headed home, and I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation.” His gaze settled on Edith, and his grin widened. “I’ve recently purchased a phaeton and a fine gelding to pull it. I’d be honored if you were the first to share a ride with me in my new carriage.”
Sophie’s face pinked, and before Edith had a chance to respond, she shook her head. “Of course we thank you for your kind offer, Mr. Beaumont, but you must realize that it would not be prudent for Edith to accept such an offer without a chaperone.”
Heat rushed into Edith’s face, and she wished the floor would somehow swallow her up. “I’m sure Mr. Beaumont didn’t mean—”
“I was thinking that perhaps Dahlia could accompany Miss Applegate and me to Lancaster.” Beyond a slight redness to his complexion, Wade seemed unfazed by Sophie’s insinuation. “With her mother’s permission, of course.” He gave Dahlia a fond smile.
Dahlia began hopping up and down. “Yes, yes! I’ve never rode—ridden—in a phaeton.” She turned pleading eyes to Edith. “You did promise that I could come and visit you sometime at your house in Lancaster, and Ma said if you asked me, I could. I’ll run home and ask Ma right now!” Before Edith could stop her, Dahlia raced out of the room.
A half hour later Edith, Wade, and Dahlia all scrunched together on the phaeton’s plush green velvet seat with Dahlia wrapped in a quilt and perched on Edith’s lap.
“I do hope you ladies are comfortable.” Wade glanced at Edith as he guided the handsome dappled gray gelding down the road leading out of Madison.
Edith shifted Dahlia on her lap. “Yes, thank you.” She angled a smile at him. “I’m surprised at how roomy the seat is for a phaeton.”
“One of the reasons I bought it,” he said with a grin as he flicked the reins on the horse’s spotted rump. “The salesman assured me that this seat would easily accommodate a lady’s widest skirts.”
At his light comment, Edith experienced an odd twang in her chest. “Then I assume you plan to regularly squire ladies in this carriage?” Edith’s voice sounded tighter than she would have liked.
His laughter rang in the early afternoon air, and a snoozing Dahlia stirred on Edith’s lap. “One must prepare for any circumstance.” A grin lifted the corner of his blond mustache. “And, as it turns out, the first passengers in my carriage are of the female persuasion.” His expression turned serious. “I was wondering if I might have the honor of escorting you to the company Christmas party next month? That is, if you’re planning to attend.”
Edith’s pulse quickened. Hopefully the chill in the air would account for any extra color in her cheeks. To cover her disconcertion she affected a horrified tone. “Miss Sophie’s Christmas party? I’d best be on my deat
hbed.”
“Then I have hope of squiring you to the event?” He kept his gaze focused on the road ahead.
“No.”
His shoulders sagged, and even in profile, a stark look of disappointment dragged down his features.
Edith had to stifle a giggle while bubbles of unexplained joy bounced around in her chest. “I mean, I’ll be staying with Edwin and Sophie that week to help with the party, so I won’t require an escort to the event.”
He turned to face her and a spark of hope flickered in his blue eyes. “Then may I be so bold as to ask if I might squire you during the party?” An uncharacteristic look of confusion came over his face. “Unless, of course, your father”—his voice tightened—“or someone else has already secured that privilege.”
Edith struggled to keep her smile in check. “Father will doubtless spend the evening in conversations about politics and business, leaving me on my own.”
“Then if no one else has laid claim to your company for the evening, it would be my great pleasure to squire you at the Christmas soirée.”
The distant sound of warning bells rang in Edith’s brain. She ignored it along with her vow to gird her heart against Wade’s charms. After all, as his companion for the evening, she could keep a close watch on his activities. Despite the hollow ring of that justification, her response leapt from her mouth as if of its own volition. “Yes, I would like that very much.”
Hours later as Edith and Dahlia worked together tidying up the kitchen after supper, her niggling regret concerning her agreement to accompany Wade at the Christmas party scratched harder at her conscience. While it would be awkward and perhaps even unwise to rescind her acceptance of his offer, she at least should warn Dahlia about the rumored slave catchers lurking around Madison.
She handed Dahlia a freshly washed plate and tried to think how best to broach the subject without frightening the child too much. “Have you heard of slave catchers, Dahlia?”
The Underground Railroad Brides Collection: 9 Couples Navigate the Road to Freedom Before the Civil War Page 11