His face swollen from weeping and his eyes glazed with grief, Jordan shook his head.
“You need to hide,” Caleb told him.
But Jordan pulled away, as if wanting nothing to do with Caleb.
Again Caleb spoke quietly. “We need to hurry,” he warned. “The slave catchers will find you.”
Jordan’s eyes were wild now. “Maybe they’d take me to where my daddy be. Maybe I’d see him again!”
“That’s exactly what your daddy doesn’t want!” Caleb exclaimed.
Jordan shuddered. “How could my daddy give himself away for me? How could he give up his life for mine?”
Still on his knees, Jordan pounded the earth with his fists. “Momma needs him. Serena and Zack and little Rose—they all need him. If my daddy hadn’t called out to me, he would have gotten away!”
Caleb tugged at Jordan’s arm. “You need to hide.”
Instead, Jordan’s shoulders heaved with sobs. “Just when I found my daddy, I lost him again!”
“Your daddy wants you to be free!”
Only then did Jordan seem to understand. Slowly he crawled out from his hiding place, got to his feet, and followed Caleb.
As they started back, the darkness grew thick around them. To Libby’s relief, Caleb remembered the direction they should go. Partway through the woods, they met Peter and Frances. From then on Frances took the lead.
When they drew close to the house, Frances brought them around to where they could see the backyard. A lighted lantern stood on a post, giving the all-clear signal. Crossing the open yard, Frances took them into the house.
Inside, she led them up the stairs to the second floor. At the top of the steps was a short hallway. At the end of the hall, Frances opened a secret door into the attic.
“Hurry!” she whispered to Jordan. “If someone comes, there’s another door. It leads into the upper floor of our shed. You’ll be safe there.”
Later that evening Libby heard Dr. Brown talking to Caleb. “If you and Jordan suddenly need my horses, take them,” the doctor said. “Horse flesh has little value compared to a human life.”
“Thank you, sir,” Caleb answered. “I’ll have a look at them now.”
As Caleb slipped out of the house, Libby saw Jordan sitting on the stairs, listening.
“I don’t understand what happened,” she told Dr. Brown. “Why didn’t the magistrate arrest you?”
“Mr. Gilson knows me well,” the doctor answered. “He believes in what I’m doing.”
“And he’s supposed to uphold a fugitive slave law that goes against everything he believes?”
Dr. Brown nodded. “He’s in a hard place. When a law made by man goes against the ways of God, it brings all kinds of trouble.”
Having Pa caught with a fugitive was the nightmare Libby dreaded. “If you’re thrown in jail, what will your family do?” she asked Dr. Brown. “When you know what might happen, how can you keep on helping fugitives?”
“How can I not help them?” he answered. “God’s law is higher than that of men.”
God’s law is higher? Libby thought. That’s what Mrs. Hunter said. What does it mean?
Standing up, the doctor crossed to where a large Bible lay on a table. “Come here, Libby.”
The pages were open to the twenty-third chapter of the book of Deuteronomy. Dr. Brown pointed to the words. “Thou shalt not deliver unto his master the servant which is escaped from his master unto thee.”
Libby thought for a moment. “‘If a slave runs away and comes to you for protection, don’t turn him over to his owner.’ Am I saying it right?”
Dr. Brown nodded. His gaze met hers. “And should I obey someone who sees a fellow human being as a piece of property? Or should I obey God? He loves every slave exactly the way He loves me.”
As though wanting to make sure Libby didn’t misunderstand, Dr. Brown explained it again. “When two laws are in conflict with each other, God’s law is more important—more to be followed.”
Turning, the doctor saw Jordan listening from the stairs. When the doctor walked over and rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder, Jordan flinched.
Dr. Brown stepped back. “You must find it hard to trust anyone right now. I cannot tell you how sorry I am about your father. When it’s safe, we’ll take you to the next place.”
“I can’t go on.” Jordan’s voice broke. “I can’t leave my daddy behind.”
“We’ll do what we can to help him,” the doctor promised. “But when it’s time, you must go, like your daddy said. You can’t let his sacrifice be wasted.”
Soon after Jordan returned to the attic, Frances picked up the large Bible. As she started up the stairs, Libby followed her.
“Mama and the rest of our family are gone right now,” Frances explained. “Whenever I get a chance, I read Bible stories to fugitives. They love to hear them.”
When Frances opened the carefully hidden door, Libby followed her into the attic room.
To Libby’s surprise she found other fugitives there besides Jordan. When they had arrived, Libby didn’t know. But a mother and father and their two young children sat on blankets on the floor.
Pulling a lamp close, Frances opened the Bible to the story of Daniel’s three friends. Because they believed in the living God, they refused to bow down and worship an image made of gold.
As Frances read the story of how the three young men stood against the king’s orders, Jordan and the other fugitives sat without moving or making a sound. When the young men were thrown into the fiery furnace, the eyes of the children grew large. When God delivered the men from the flames, the children clapped their hands and giggled.
They know what it means, Libby thought. Even the small ones have felt the heat of the furnace.
Like the others, Jordan seemed to find comfort. But when Frances finished reading, a thoughtful look remained in Jordan’s eyes.
That night Libby slept in the same room as Frances, while Caleb, Jordan, and Peter stayed in the upper floor of the shed. The moment Libby lay down, she remembered all that had happened to Micah Parker. The more she thought about him, the more upset she felt.
Again she seemed to hear the father’s warning cry to his son. Again she saw Jordan’s terror, his grieving for his daddy. Knowing she must, Libby tried to sort things out.
I’m scared that Pa might lose his boat, she thought. But Elijah Lovejoy lost his life. Jordan’s father gave up his freedom for his son.
Libby’s thoughts became a prayer. I want something worth living for, Lord. Something real—something worthwhile.
But that seems so big, God—so hard—even impossible. Can You help me choose what counts most?
Then the long days without much sleep caught up to Libby, and she drifted off.
She woke to the sound of a light tapping on the bedroom door. Three even knocks, a space, then three raps again. Caleb’s signal! But it’s still night.
Then as she came awake, she knew. Something is wrong!
She had no way of knowing how long she had slept. Through the window she saw the moon riding high in the sky. Softly she rapped back. Long, short, long. Then she fumbled in the dark to find her clothes.
Quickly Libby changed into her dress, snatched up her shoes, and tiptoed to the door. Out in the hall, she closed the door again without making a sound.
Caleb waited there, a shape darker than the night. Walking at one side of the steps to avoid any creak, he and Libby clung to the railing to find their way down. At the bottom of the steps, Caleb led her into the parlor.
“Jordan is gone!” Caleb whispered when it was safe.
“Gone?”
“Disappeared!” Caleb sounded as upset as Libby had ever heard him. “He’s nowhere to be found!”
CHAPTER 15
The Disappearing Package
But why?” Libby forgot to whisper. “How could Jordan disappear?”
“I don’t know. He slipped away while I was sleeping.
There
’s a door in the shed that leads outside. It would have been easy for him to leave.”
In that moment there was something Libby remembered. “It’s what you said. The place where Jordan doesn’t have good judgment. When he’s scared about his family.”
Caleb agreed. “I think he’s hunting for his father. If he is, he’s risking his own freedom. And maybe his life.”
“What can we do?” Libby asked.
“Try to follow Jordan.” In the darkness Caleb fumbled for a match. When he lit a lamp, he kept the flame low. Taking a quill pen, he scratched a note.
Valuable package disappeared. We are looking for it. Caleb and Libby
As Caleb turned down the flame, it flickered, then died. In the darkness he and Libby waited, listening. In that moment a clock started chiming.
Libby counted the strokes. “Eleven o’clock,” she whispered at last. “Jordan can’t have been gone more than an hour.”
In the silence Libby and Caleb crept through the kitchen. The side door swung open on well-oiled hinges. Again they stopped to listen and peer into the darkness.
After a moment they slipped outside. Keeping to the deepest shadows, Caleb led Libby to the barn. The top half of the door was open. Caleb opened the bottom half, and they crept in, again without sound.
Standing just inside the door, Libby waited for her eyes to adjust to the even deeper darkness. When she saw the first stall was empty, she remembered Dr. Brown’s words. If you and Jordan need my horses, use them.
At the time Libby had wondered how he could be so free with such valuable property. Now she understood. Jordan must have taken the doctor at his word.
Through the open door, the moon gave little light. Yet within a moment Caleb moved forward. As if he had been there earlier and memorized where things were, he felt along the wall.
When he passed where Libby stood, she saw only the dark outline of a bridle in his hand. Yet without hesitating, Caleb walked into the second stall. Talking quietly to the horse, he slipped on the bridle. When the saddle was in place, Caleb led the horse out of the stall.
“That’s the way, Annie.” Where there was more light, Caleb checked to be sure he had everything right. “We’re just going for a ride.” Grabbing a lead rope, Caleb wrapped it around his waist.
Outside the barn, he stayed on the grass to deaden the sound of hooves. Leading Annie, he walked quickly to the woods with Libby following. Under the covering of trees, the night was even darker. Again Libby had the feeling that Caleb had memorized the way. Before long her feet felt the smoothness of packed dirt.
The Indian path, Libby thought, remembering the trail she had seen when searching for Jordan.
Caleb swung up on the horse, then reached down to help Libby up. The moment she was seated behind him, Caleb lifted the reins. Annie moved out in a steady trot. With her arms around Caleb’s waist, Libby hung on.
“How do you know where Jordan went?” she asked Caleb when she thought it was safe to speak.
“I don’t know,” Caleb said. “But I heard Jordan ask Frances where she thought the slave catchers took his father. She told him the Indian trail might be the shortest way to the Mississippi. I think it’s thirteen or fourteen miles.”
“Jordan’s father was walking,” Libby said. “The slave catchers couldn’t gallop with him behind.”
“And Jordan was riding. He could find them,” Caleb said. “Especially if his father tried to slow down the slave catchers.”
For some time Caleb and Libby rode in the darkness. The farther they went, the more afraid Libby felt.
“I’m scared, Caleb,” she said finally. “If the slave catchers see Jordan—”
Caleb turned his head to answer. “I know.” He spoke softly, and Libby had no doubt that he was worried too.
“What if we make things worse?” she asked. “What if we come up behind Jordan when he can’t see us? We could scare him into jumping out of hiding.”
Caleb shrugged, as if he had thought of the same thing. “But he might need our help. We have to try,” he said, as if that settled the matter.
Before long, Libby began to feel every movement of the horse. I never learned to ride, she thought. Trying to ignore how uncomfortable she felt, she kept looking around.
For some distance they rode with a canopy of tall trees arching above them. Whenever they drew close to a home or farm, Caleb slowed Annie to a walk. When needed, he rode around a house and found the path on the other side.
A couple of hours had passed when Libby first caught the scent of the river. Like the sweetness of air after a rain, the river breeze felt cool and refreshing. Soon Caleb slowed the horse again. Moving even more quietly, he stopped Annie often to listen.
The trail was wider here, as if many people used it to come to a river crossing. Staying away from the bushes that reached out from either side, Caleb kept to the center of the track. He leaned forward to whisper in Annie’s ear, urging the horse on. At last they came to the banks of the Mississippi.
Within the line of trees that grew close to the water, Caleb slid off the horse. When he helped Libby down, she stumbled and nearly fell. Quickly Caleb grabbed her arm to steady her, but he did not speak.
So sore that she could barely move, Libby wondered how she could possibly run if it became necessary. Waiting and watching, Caleb kept Annie a short distance from the edge of the trees.
Without moving a muscle, Libby stood there, afraid that any small sound would give them away to the wrong person. Here, where the trees gave way to the wide river, she could see the moon again. To her relief it was still high in the sky.
Then from across the water, Libby heard a sound and strained to see. Islands dotted the river, darker shapes that merged with the darkness of the water. Grabbing Caleb’s arm, Libby pointed. When he nodded, she knew that he, too, had heard the noise.
In that moment Libby remembered how easily sounds carried over water. The person making the noise could be quite far away.
When she heard the sound again, Libby knew what it was—oars creaking in their locks. Whoever was rowing made no effort at silence. That could mean only one thing. It would not be fugitives or people helping fugitives. Whoever was in that boat had to be slave catchers.
“Keep watching,” Caleb whispered into Libby’s ear. “I’m taking Annie farther back.” Disappearing between the trees, Caleb was soon lost to view.
As time dragged out, Libby waited, still straining to see. Then at the end of an island, something moved. In the light of the moon, the shape grew longer, as if moving out of the shadow of the island. Between that island and the next, Libby saw the shape turn into a rowboat heading upstream.
Is Jordan’s daddy in that boat? Libby wondered.
For only a moment he had stood tall. As Libby remembered the leg irons around his ankles and the chains between his feet, she thought of Hattie, Serena, Zack, and little Rose.
I can’t cry, Libby told herself. I’ve got to listen, think, pray.
Pray. On the night wind, the word broke into her grieving heart. Why am I standing here doing nothing when I could be praying?
She began by praying for Jordan. Wherever he is, Lord, take care of him. Tell him what to do. She went on to pray for Jordan’s father. O Lord, give him a way to escape!
In that moment Libby felt peaceful, as though others were praying with her. Was Dr. Brown lying awake, praying even now? And Frances, Jordan, Caleb, Micah Parker himself? Perhaps even his wife, Hattie, had sensed she needed to pray.
Barely had the thought crossed her mind when Libby heard another sound in the darkness. The soft whinny of a horse.
Libby stiffened. What if there were other slave catchers around? If they heard Annie, they would have no problem following the sound to Caleb.
There it was again. A second whinny. Libby’s stomach muscles tightened. What’s wrong? Caleb should be farther back.
Turning from the waterfront, Libby tried to follow Caleb into the darkness. But when she heard
a soft movement—a movement where Caleb shouldn’t be—Libby knew.
It wasn’t Annie. Someone else is here with me in these dark woods!
When she sensed the movement again, Libby’s fists clenched in terror. Frantically she looked around for a hiding place, trying to blend with the night.
Then a whisper reached her. “Libby!”
At first she thought she had imagined it.
“Libby!” came the whisper again, even closer this time.
In relief Libby sagged against the tree. It was Jordan. Jordan whispering in the night. They had found him after all! Or rather, he had found them
Not far behind was Caleb. He and Jordan had taken the horses farther back to a small opening in the trees, leaving them where there was grass.
Now Jordan led Libby and Caleb to the riverbank. As he, Libby, and Caleb knelt down behind the trees closest to the water, the night exploded with sound. First a splash, then oars knocked against a boat.
“Get him!” a rough voice exclaimed.
“I can’t!”
“Yes, you can. Go after him.”
“I can’t swim. You go.”
“I can’t swim either. We’ll both have to get him. The minute he comes up, hold out an oar. He’ll be glad for our help.”
“No, he won’t!” Jordan whispered.
“Where’d he go?” asked the voice across the water. “Where is he?” The man was worried now. “There ain’t nobody who can swim with leg irons on.”
“I tell you, he’s gotta come up at least once.”
“No, he doesn’t!” Excitement filled Jordan’s whisper. “My daddy can swim longer underwater than anyone I know.”
“Riggs ain’t gonna like this,” came a voice. “This here property was valuable. We ain’t got no way to prove that he drowned.”
“If we can’t find him, we ain’t gonna get paid!”
The men were silent then, waiting. Again the oars knocked against the boat. Then Libby heard the sound of an oar dropping into its lock. Straining forward, she watched. As the moonlight fell upon the boat, Libby saw it was moving again, making circles as if going around and around a certain spot.
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