The Whistle Walk: A Civil War Novel (Ironwood Plantation Family Saga Book 1)

by Stephenia H. McGee

  Ruth grabbed a thick rag and pulled the door open, delicious-smelling heat washing over her face. The tops had turned golden, so she pulled the pan free and set it on top of the cast iron stove. “They’s ready.”

  Betsy nodded. “Good. Now get on to Mrs. Harper.”

  Ruth swiped a steaming biscuit from the tray and hurried out the door.

  “I saw that!” Betsy called after her.

  Ruth grinned and closed the door behind her, shoving a bite into her mouth that set her tongue to burning. She pulled in the morning air to tame the heat, but June mornings gave little relief from their stifling hot days. Birds twittered as she made her way onto the porch, nibbling her breakfast and making sure her hands were clean before she knocked on Mrs. Harper’s door.

  “Ma’am?”

  No answer. Should she go in? She didn’t want to get too close. The lady could be crazy when she woke up. Ruth eased the door open and stepped inside. Mrs. Harper slept soundly, her bed sheets thrown all around her. Ruth almost smiled. Guess she couldn’t try so hard to be proper when she was sleeping.

  “Mrs. Harper?” Ruth called from her place by the door. “Mrs. Harper? You wanna get up now?”

  Mrs. Harper groaned and blinked. Her gaze landed on Ruth. “Oh!” She gathered the blankets under her chin. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “You want to sleep, ma’am? You done told me to get you up early in the mornings.”

  “Oh. No, no. I’m ready to get up.” She slipped her feet out from under the blankets and placed them on the floor. “Mother always says a lady is to rise early to care for her duties,” she mumbled.

  Ruth pretended not to hear the last part and started gathering Mrs. Harper’s clothes. What duties might that be, exactly? It’s not like white ladies have to do any work. Even the easy tasks around the house were done by someone else. The way she saw it, Mrs. Harper could sleep all day and no one would notice the difference.

  Ruth set the bed clothes right while her mistress changed from her nightdress into her chemise and hoops. So many pieces of clothing. How did they keep from burning up in this heat with all those layers of fabric?

  “I’m going to make Mr. Harper’s rounds today. You will accompany me,” Mrs. Harper said as she stepped into the petticoat Ruth held out for her.

  Ruth frowned. What kind of rounds could a woman possibly need to do for a man? “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mrs. Harper held up her arms, and Ruth wrapped the corset around her waist, hooking the top closure and threading the loops. She had just started to pull it tight when Mrs. Harper spoke softly.

  “Do you think we could not tie it quite so tight?”

  Did she want Ruth’s opinion or just giving her an order? “Whatever you want, ma’am.”

  Mrs. Harper sighed and waved her hand. “I know. I know. But do you think anyone will notice if I don’t have it so tight? It makes me…” She hesitated, turning her head to look at Ruth over one shoulder. “Uncomfortable.”

  Ruth lifted her eyebrows. “I sure wouldn’t want to be tied up in that thing.”

  Mrs. Harper laughed. “Be glad you don’t have to be. Yet another thing a lady must do.”

  Ruth nodded, unsure of how to continue. “You wants me to take it off?”

  Mrs. Harper seemed to consider the idea but then shook her head. “No, I don’t suppose that would be proper. But maybe we can just leave it looser so I can move around more and still be able to breathe.” She smiled, showing her straight, perfect teeth.

  Despite herself, Ruth grinned. There was something different about this white woman for sure. “I think’s that’ll work just fine, ma’am. Ain’t no one going to know the difference.”

  She finished dressing Mrs. Harper and headed to the barn where she could tell Noah to get Mrs. Harper a buggy ready. How many hours would she have to walk while Mrs. Harper rode? She’d probably have sore feet tomorrow.

  She poked her head into the barn and saw Noah’s wide back as he tossed hay into a stall. “Mornin’!” she called.

  He turned, and a grin split his face. “Hey, there Miss Ruth. You come to visit me?”

  She dropped her gaze and dug the toe of her shoe in the soft dirt. “I, um, no.”

  “Oh.”

  He sounded so disappointed she couldn’t help but look up at him. He was staring at her. She tried to swallow, but her mouth suddenly seemed to lack enough spit to do it. “What I means is Mrs. Harper sent me down here to see you.”

  He nodded. “And?”

  She crossed her arms. “And yes, I is glad to see you,” she said, the words jumping from her lips like a frog from a hot pan.

  He chuckled, and she felt her face grow warm.

  “And I’m right glad to see you, too.” He walked closer and gave her a funny little bow.

  She giggled. “What’re you doing?”

  “Tryin’ to be a gentleman.”

  Ruth stilled. “You ain’t no gentleman. You’s a slave to one.”

  The laughter left his face, and he straightened, looking at her with serious eyes. “A man who’s got honor is a gentleman. He’s a man who follows after God and does his best to do right in this here world even though there’s lots of evil in it. I don’t care if my skin’s darker than pitch. In my heart I’ll always try to be a gentleman.”

  Ruth stepped closer to him and studied his face. “You a rare man, Noah. I never seen one like you.”

  He reached out with one of his giant hands and brushed his finger as light as a butterfly across her cheek. Something in her stomach fluttered. She dared not breathe.

  He looked down at her mouth, and she thought he might kiss her. She let her breath out in a rush and stepped back. “I’m supposed to ask you to get Mrs. Harper’s buggy ready.”

  He dropped his hand and spun on his foot. “I’ll get it. It’ll be waitin’ on her when she’s ready.”

  She watched as he started to walk away. “Noah?”

  He turned. “Yes?”

  “Thank you for tryin’ to be an honorable man. I…” She fumbled for the right word. “Respect that. A lot.”

  One side of his mouth tugged up. He nodded and turned away. Ruth left through the big sliding doors and made her way back through the rose garden. As she stepped onto the porch, Mrs. Harper came out the back door.

  “Oh. There you are. Are you ready?”

  Ruth looked down at her shoes and wished she had some better ones for walking. Well, at least she had shoes. She nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I done told Noah to get your horse ready.”

  “But I told you to have him get the buggy ready.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I did.” Wasn’t a buggy that strange saddle ladies had where both of their legs went on the same side of the horse? The way Mrs. Harper was looking at her…maybe not.

  Mrs. Harper frowned. “Oh, never mind. Run and get the basket from Betsy.”

  Ruth slipped into the kitchen and got a large covered basket from the cook and then went to the barn. When she got there, Mrs. Harper was sitting in a tiny little carriage with a small canopy over the single seat. It looked funny hooked behind a big gray horse. Why not just ride the horse?

  “Well, let’s go. Get in.”

  Ruth’s eyes widened. “In that thing?”

  “Of course. Did you expect to ride in a saddle?”

  Ruth shook her head vigorously. She had no desire to ever be on the back of one of those creatures. But this tiny thing strapped right behind one didn’t look much better.

  “I’ll just walk.”

  Mrs. Harper looked at her from underneath her giant bonnet. “You’ll do no such thing. Besides, you’d never keep up with the horse. Do you think I’m going to make you run all day?”

  Ruth shrugged.

  Noah came out of the barn and grinned at her. She shot him a mean look and put one foot on the little step hanging from the side. She climbed in and tried to sit as far away from Mrs. Harper as the tiny seat would allow. What would Bridget think to see her touching skirts
with a white lady?

  Mrs. Harper snapped the reins, and the horse bolted forward. Ruth grasped the side of the seat.

  “Have you ever ridden in a buggy before, Ruth?”

  “No, ma’am.” Besides that big carriage she’d been in the day Mrs. Harper had bought her, she’d never been in anything with wheels. But her lack of experience wasn’t the issue.

  “Are you all right?”

  Ruth kept her eyes focused straight ahead. How was she going to explain this to a lady? Still, she had to say something, and Mrs. Harper had yet to raise a hand to her. Ruth took a deep breath and said all at once, “No disrespect, ma’am but dontcha think maybe you shoulda asked Noah or Tommy or one of the other men to come along with you instead of me?” Not that Noah would fit in this thing.

  Mrs. Harper tilted her head, looking genuinely confused. “Why on earth would I want to do that?”

  Oh good heavens. “Well, I ain’t no good with horses, I can’t fix no wheel if it gets broken, and I ain’t big enough to be much protection.” Shouldn’t she know all that? Mrs. Harper didn’t usually appear to be light on sense, but she must sure be missing some today. She laughed like Ruth had said the silliest thing.

  They topped a hill, and fields full of Ruth’s own people came into view. Her heart dropped a little. This is where she’d spent most of her life, in fields like this, tending cotton under the heavy hands of white men on horseback. Part of her felt guilty for where she now sat. What would they all think of her riding around like she was something special?

  “Ruth,” Mrs. Harper said, breaking into her thoughts. “There is no need for protection. Ironwood is perfectly safe. Noah makes sure everything on the buggy is sound before he hitches the horse up. Now stop worrying. Everything will be just fine.”

  Ruth dipped her chin but didn’t answer.

  Mrs. Harper slowed the horse to a walk and eased some of the jostling. They stopped in front of a white foreman on his horse. His hat scrunched down on his head, and his broad shoulders stretched the cotton of his shirt. He lifted his hand in greeting.

  “Morning, Mrs. Harper.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Peck. Are the numbers looking good today?”

  He spit a stream of tobacco and adjusted his hat. “Yes ma’am. They’re all healthy and working steady this morning. Haven’t had any issues so far.” His eyes fell on Ruth. She twisted in her seat and looked out over the fields. A few of the hands looked up at her curiously. She dropped her gaze.

  “And the cotton?” Mrs. Harper asked.

  “Growing good enough in this drought. But rain would be a blessing, sure enough.”

  “Yes, it certainly would. Thank you, Mr. Peck.” She lifted the reins.

  “Uh, ma’am?”

  Ruth looked up from under her lashes at the foreman as he took his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you going to be taking all of Mr. Harper’s ride today?”

  Mrs. Harper stiffened. Ruth pressed her lips together.

  “Why do you ask, Mr. Peck? Is there something going on during my husband’s absence I need to be aware of?” she snapped.

  The foreman shook his head. “No, ma’am. We all respect Mr. Harper, and not a one of us would slack any of our duties during his absence.” He sat a little straighter in his saddle. “It just might not be safe for you two…” His gaze fell on Ruth, and she squirmed. “Uh, ladies, to be out alone without an escort. I don’t know if Mr. Harper would want his young bride driving around the slave quarters alone.”

  Finally, someone with some sense. Mr. Peck seemed a decent enough fellow. Did he beat the slaves when no one was watching?

  Mrs. Harper’s voice softened. “I appreciate your concern. The hands should all be in the fields working under the supervision of your managers. Surely they should not cause me any distress from there?”

  Ha. As if they were the ones that caused the issues. She had no idea, did she? But then, how could she? This woman had been raised in a fancy house with everything she ever wanted. How could she possibly know anything about what life was really like?

  “Of course not, ma’am.”

  Mrs. Harper clicked the reins and continued on around the side of the field. Ruth clenched her teeth. The wind thrust an invisible hand against her face as if it warned them not to go any further. Mrs. Harper put her hand on her oversized hat and tried to keep it from ripping off her head.

  Despite her discomfort with the situation and Mrs. Harper’s strange ideas, Ruth secretly enjoyed seeing more of her new home. She hadn’t been any farther away from the house than to the stable. How many of her people lived within Ironwood? More than at Cedar Hall?

  Her seat lurched out from underneath her and unseated her rear. She landed hard and her shoulder crashed into Mrs. Harper. Ruth gasped and struggled to right herself, fear making her heart scurry. What had she done?

  “I’m sorry, ma’am! I didn’t means to hit you like that.” She swallowed hard. “I shoulda been holding on better. I promise, it won’t happen again.”

  Mrs. Harper blinked at her. She appeared confused for just a second before everything was once again hid behind her mask of superior indifference. She brushed at her skirts. Ruth held her breath, waiting to see how many lashes she’d surely gained. It wasn’t fair! She hadn’t asked to sit in this ridiculous thing next to the white lady. Still, she’d have to be more careful, have to make sure she kept her head about her at all times.

  Finally, her mistress spoke, her voice soft. “We hit a hole, Ruth. You are not responsible.” Mrs. Harper gracefully swung down the step and looked at the wheel. Before Ruth could gather her senses and decide if she should get down and assist in some way, Mrs. Harper lifted her shoulders and said, “Well, no harm done.” She walked around to the big horse and started stroking its nose.

  Ruth had no desire to get near the creature, so she stayed in her seat and fidgeted. She couldn’t help staring at Mrs. Harper as she regained her uncomfortably close position next to her. Their eyes locked.

  “What?”

  “Nothin’, ma’am.”

  They continued at a slow pace, and soon small, simple homes came into view. They were wooden cabins, made by the hands of the people who lived within. Ruth’s chest tightened. As they drew closer, several children gathered in the common area. Their little feet stilled in their games and precious faces peeked out from behind the skirts of older girls left behind to care for them. They seemed well fed. Maybe none of them had ever risked their life to steal flour. Maybe some places were different than Cedar Hall after all.

  “Why are they staring at us like that?” Mrs. Harper whispered, not taking her eyes off the small central courtyard.

  Ruth tried to hide the frustration in her voice but doubted she succeeded. “Maybe because they ain’t never seen no black girl ridding in a buggy with the white lady before.”

  Mrs. Harper ignored her comment. She slowed the buggy and raised her hand as if she wanted to wave the children over and then suddenly stopped. What little color clung to Mrs. Harper’s face drained from it, leaving her looking paler than a freshly opened cotton pod. Ruth followed her gaze to find a white man coming out of the nearest cabin, tugging on his pants.

  Ruth’s stomach turned. How stupid to start to think that this place could be any different than home. She clenched her jaw and lowered her gaze.

  Mrs. Harper halted the mare. “Why would he be here in the middle of the day?” she mumbled.

  Stupid woman. “Ain’t no daddies around in the middle of the day,” Ruth whispered between the teeth that would not unclench.

  Mrs. Harper’s nostrils flared, and she snapped her gaze to Ruth. She pressed her lips together and waved for the man to approach. Ruth balled her fists at her sides and wished she were back at the house scrubbing something instead of being forced to sit here. Anger welled inside her chest and made her breaths difficult to draw in. She refused to look at the mistress.

  “Why are you
in the cabins during midmorning? Shouldn’t you be tending to a field?” Mrs. Harper asked. The barely hidden bite in her voice drew Ruth’s gaze up to judge the man’s reaction.

  His dark eyes studied Mrs. Harper a moment then slid to Ruth. He licked his lips and thrust his finger toward the cabin. “Got a sick fella in there. Didn’t show up this morning, so I had to come down here to check on him.”

  Liar!

  Mrs. Harper’s brow creased as though she were considering the truth behind the words. The door creaked, and a young girl stepped out on the porch. Ruth’s jaw began to ache, and it took all her self-control to keep herself in her seat and not run to scoop the poor thing into her arms. What she wouldn’t do to land a punch square in that disgusting man’s face.

  “You! Girl!” Mrs. Harper shouted. “Is your daddy or your brother in there with an ailment?”

  The girl looked at the man, Mrs. Harper, and then Ruth. Ruth tried to show all the words she couldn’t speak in her intense gaze.

  Be brave! Tell!

  The girl hesitated, the fear in her eyes tearing at Ruth’s heart. Then she nodded her head, her shoulders slumping.

  Mrs. Harper frowned. She looked out at the other children like they might give her the answer she hunted. They would never say a word. None of them even looked up at her.

  “Mister, uh…”

  “Webb.”

  “Mister Webb,” Mrs. Harper said, her voice cold. “I suggest you return to your post at the field and oversee your job.”

  He nodded, his shaggy hair bouncing around his shoulders. “Headed that way now since my business here is done.”

  “Where is your horse?” Mrs. Harper snapped.

  He ran his fingers through his long, greasy hair. “Tied up to a tree in those woods so it would have plenty of shade.”

  “And no doubt so someone else wouldn’t know you were here at the cabins.”

  Ruth startled. Mrs. Harper no longer seemed to care how much hatred dripped from her lips. Ruth suddenly wanted to hug her. Not that she would dare.

  The man shifted his feet. He looked at Ruth, and her blood chilled. This man was dangerous.

  “Well, I’m done here. I’ll be moving on now. You be sure to have a pleasant day, ma’am.” He dipped his chin and disappeared behind the cabins.