Walks the Fire

by Stephanie Grace Whitson

  Red Star stopped and snorted, staring straight ahead. Her tiny ears flicked forward and back, trying to catch a sound from the light ahead. With dismay, Jesse realized they had somehow missed Dobytown.

  A man hunched over his fire. At the sound of Red Star’s snort, one of his horses whinnied. He rose quickly, grabbing the rifle that lay next to him. His deep voice boomed into the darkness, “Who goes there?”

  When Jesse said nothing, the voice called out again. “Who goes there? And what business have ya’ in the night? If yer an honest man, speak up right now, or else my gun’ll be doin’ some talkin.’“

  LisBeth had awakened and clutched her mother’s sides fearfully.

  “Don’t shoot!” Jesse called out. “It’s a lone woman and her child. That’s all. Please, don’t shoot!”

  The rifle came down off the shoulder. The voice called out again. “And how do I know yer tellin’ the truth, and yer not some good-fer-nothin’ from Dobytown, just plannin’ to rob and murder?”

  “I promise by the Lord God who made heaven and earth, it’s only me and my daughter.”

  “Then walk into the campfire where I can see ya’.”

  Jesse urged Red Star forward where the man could look them over.

  LisBeth clung to her mother, but whispered loudly. “Mama, that man is black!”

  The man raised one eyebrow and looked down at his massive forearms. Stretching out one hand, he held it up in the firelight and examined it. “Well, I’ll be…” he exclaimed in mock surprise. “I shorely am! Now, how d’ya suppose that happened?” He grinned at LisBeth, and Jesse relaxed a little.

  Then LisBeth answered, “My mama says God made people all colors so’s the world wouldn’t be dull. We know white folks, and we’ve got some brown friends, but we’ve never had black friends before. We’ve got to run away now, ’cause we helped our brown friends, and they might catch us and take my mama away.”

  Jesse hushed LisBeth. “My daughter and I were headed for Dobytown. My name is Jesse King. My mare must have taken the wrong way and…”

  The man grasped the crown of his hat and set it farther back on his head. “Dobytown? What you be lookin’ for Dobytown for? Dobytown’s no place for a woman and her child…”

  “Yes, I know that… and under normal circumstances I’d never… but…”

  “Somebody lookin’ fer you?”

  “I’m not sure. But if they were…”

  He interrupted. “But if they were, they wouldn’t be lookin’ in Dobytown. That it?”

  Jesse wondered if God would have answered her prayer for help so quickly. She nodded. “Exactly.”

  “Who’re these ‘brown people’ you been helpin’?”

  “Lakota. At the fort. Friends of mine. I unlocked the room they were held in and helped them get away.”

  The man added, “Then you best be gettin’ away too.” Approaching Red Star, he turned his attention to LisBeth. “You hungry, little lady? Help yourself. Shot a rabbit earlier. They’s a few pieces left in that skillet by the fire.” He lifted LisBeth down, and for some reason Jesse did not move to resist. She climbed down and stood holding the reins as Lisbeth scampered to the fire.

  “Seem to have forgot my manners, ma’am,” he said. “Name’s Joseph Freeman. I’m a blacksmith. Been workin’ over to Dobytown fer some weeks, now. But I’m leavin’. Sick of the swearin’ and carryin’ on. Ain’t no place for a man who… well, who cares about the things of the Lord and all. They’s a new town bein’ started up near the Salt Creek. Name of Lancaster. Figure every good town needs a blacksmith. Guess I’ll settle there a while and see how I like it.”

  All the while he talked, he was leading Jesse to the fireside, helping her settle onto the ground, unsaddling Red Star, rubbing her down, checking her feet with sure hands before he hobbled her with an extra set of hobbles he fetched from his wagon.

  His voice was pleasant, and Jesse settled comfortably near the fire as an inexplicable peace settled over her.

  Joseph Freeman rambled on about his plans. “They’s a widow there, Miz Augusta Hathaway. That Miz Hathaway, she’s a real good woman. A real Christian woman. Never heard nothin’ but a kind word about her. Folks say that new town’ll be growin’ fast. Sure Miz Hathaway’ll help you get settled. You got no objections to ridin’ with a colored man, I’ll be happy to have you come along. It just ain’t right for you to go into Dobytown. No, ma’am… it just ain’t right.”

  Freeman stopped short. The woman was asleep. Her child lay at her side, cuddled into the crook of her mother’s body on the ground.

  “Man alive, Joseph… when you goin’ to learn to shut up? You done talked this woman to sleep!” He smiled at himself, and withdrew his bedroll to a respectful distance from the campfire. Unrolling the woman’s quilt to cover her, he dropped her worn Bible into the dust. He picked it up, wiped it off, and set it where the woman would see it as soon as she woke.

  Jesse and LisBeth woke the next morning to the aroma of coffee boiling and biscuits baking. LisBeth was quick to exclaim over their new friend’s kindness. Freeman accepted her chattering good-naturedly and explained to Jesse, “You-all fell to sleepin’ so quick last night, I didn’t think you’d mind if I covered the girl up. The Bible fell outta’ the bedroll, ma’am. I sure hope it didn’t come to any harm.”

  Jesse picked up the Bible and rubbed her stiff neck. “It’s fine, Mr. Freeman. Thank you for your kindness.”

  Freeman offered her coffee and as she took the steaming cup he said, “If you don’t mind, ma’am, I’d sure love to hear a few words from that book. That is, if you don’t mind.”

  The request helped Jesse feel at ease with the stranger. Whatever his background, if he loved God’s Word, she felt that they could be friends. Long since used to Bible reading, LisBeth instantly plopped onto a log by the fire and waited for her mother to read.

  “Do you have a favorite passage, Mr. Freeman?”

  “Oh, no, ma’am, I ain’t never learned to read. Anything’ll do. I just love hearin’ the words.” He had removed his hat and stood, head bowed, as if awaiting a benediction.

  Jesse thumbed the worn pages and read aloud, “In thee, O LORD, do I put my trust…” She read the psalm quietly; Joseph stood drinking in the words.

  When Jesse finished the passage with “Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the LORD,” Freeman whispered a hearty “Amen!” He shoved his hat back on his head and, with sudden energy and few words, rounded up Red Star and his own team. Harnessing the team, he turned to Jesse. “As I said last night, ma’am, I’m headed for the Salt Creek, ’bout 150 miles from here. They’s a widow there, Miz Augusta Hathaway, a good Christian woman who’d be happy to have you stop by, I’m sure. It ain’t much, only about thirty folks settled in, but whoever might be lookin’ fer ya’ sure wouldn’t be lookin’ there.”

  “We’d be indebted to you if we could accompany you, Mr. Freeman. I haven’t any way to pay you for your protection, but it seems that the Lord has sent us to you, and if you think Mrs. Hathaway wouldn’t mind two pilgrims alighting on her doorstep, then we’ll go with you.”

  As she talked, Jesse mounted Red Star and motioned for LisBeth to join her, but LisBeth had her own ideas of how she preferred to travel. “I don’t wanna’ ride that old horse, Mama. I wanna’ ride in the wagon with Mr. Joseph!”

  Embarrassed by her daughter’s forwardness, Jesse tried to hush her, but Freeman interrupted. “I’d be honored to have her ride with me, ma’am, if you think it’s all right.”

  Jesse hesitated.

  Freeman misinterpreted the hesitation. He turned to LisBeth. “Little lady, it ain’t fittin’ for you to be ridin’ next to a man you don’t know too well, and your mama’s right to be concerned. So now you just scramble up on that little pony and don’t give your mama no more trouble.”

  LisBeth protested again, and Freeman took action before he thought. “My mammy used to switch me good when I acted the way you acti
n’ up. Now, you be a lady like your mama and get up on that hoss!”

  Not waiting for LisBeth to obey, he swept her up in his great arms and deposited her on Red Star’s back where she sat, sullen and quiet. They headed off across the prairie as morning’s light began to touch the tips of the brush that dotted the open plain.

  For most of her life Jesse had been carried along, an often unwilling participant in many of the events that had shaped her life. The encounter with Prairie Flower had changed that. With no time to consciously ask the Lord’s guidance and wait for a reply, she had chosen to do something that would change her life permanently. As she rode alongside Freeman’s wagon, she had time to contemplate the results of her actions. It seemed that God had blessed her decision. He had, after all, provided Joseph Freeman to lead her to a new village and a new life, and he had granted his peace.

  As the morning passed and Jesse and LisBeth followed along with Freeman’s wagon, Jesse felt more and more that she was in the center of God’s will for her life. Accompanying Joseph Freeman to the village on the Salt Creek seemed right. Her heart swelled with a sudden, inexplicable happiness, and she began to hum. Freeman heard the tune, picked it up, and hummed along. It wasn’t long before they were singing the familiar words. Jesse’s hoarse alto and Freeman’s rich bass resounded across the prairie.

  Amazing grace, how sweet the sound…

  LisBeth recovered from her tantrum and began to sing too. Red Star’s ears worked madly, first to hear the bass voice coming from the wagon and then flicking back to the familiar voices she had known for so long.

  As the music continued, something happened. Unseen hands reached between the travelers. They were tentative, not touching, but still there, open to whatever might be offered. As the morning passed and the miles were covered, the unseen hands grew closer. A spiritual bond was growing, created by shared belief in Christ.

  When they stopped for lunch, Jesse hopped down happily from Red Star’s back, sent LisBeth to the nearby creek for fresh water, and asked Freeman how she could help.

  “Just read some more, ma’am. That’d be help enough. I got plenty of hard tack and jerky… a little extra water will make the coffee last until we get there.”

  “But I want to do my part—to repay you in some way for your kindness.”

  “Well then, ma’am, you read from the Good Book and let me cook.”

  They ate quickly and were ready to be on the move again. As Freeman climbed onto his wagon, Jesse called out, “Mr. Freeman, sir, if you don’t object, could LisBeth ride with you this afternoon?”

  He had his back to her, but at the question, she saw the huge shoulders relax, and he turned about with a warm smile on his face. Winking at LisBeth, he answered, “I’d be honored, Mrs. King.” There was more to be said, but he held it in and helped LisBeth scramble up beside him. Together, they bounced and jolted along. The unseen hands came together in a firm grasp and held on.

  Blessed be the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love,

  The fellowship of kindred minds is like to that above.

  The old hymn became real as the days passed. They sang every hymn they knew. By the end of the week, Jesse had stopped fearing pursuit from the fort. Three strangers had joined together in a unity that those who did not know their God could never understand.

  At last, over an evening campfire, Jesse told Freeman the details of their flight from Fort Kearney. He listened without much reaction and failed to offer some of his own history in turn. The silence had become uncomfortable when LisBeth asked, “You talk different from the people at Fort Kearney, Joseph. How come?”

  “Mr. Freeman, LisBeth.”

  Freeman smiled. “That’s just fine, LisBeth. You can call me Joseph. Guess partners on the trail don’t need to be so formal, after all.” He backed away from the fire into the shadows before he answered LisBeth’s question. “Well, now, LisBeth. I talk different ’cause I’m not from around here. I talk the way folks talk where I grew up.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “South Carolina.”

  LisBeth looked at her mother. “That far away, Mama?”

  “Very far away.”

  “Farther away than Illinois?” LisBeth looked from Jesse to Joseph. When her mother nodded, LisBeth blurted out, “Mama says she and Papa came all the way from Illinois, and it was a terrible hard journey and took weeks and weeks. Then Papa died, and we had to stay here in Nebraska Territory and work for the soldiers. Mama says the Good Lord made her strong to work hard and she could take care of us just fine with the Lord’s help. She didn’t want another husband after Papa died, and so that’s why we stayed.” LisBeth took another breath. “So why’d you come all the way to Nebraska from South Carolina, Mr. Joseph?”

  “LisBeth! Mr. Freeman doesn’t need to tell us his personal affairs. And you, young lady, have blurted out our personal affairs without a bit of good manners!”

  Freeman broke in, “That’s all right, ma’am. They ain’t much to tell ’bout me. I joined up in the war and dug trenches and the like for near four years. Got in a fight one night, got hit in the head. When I come to, I was layin’ in a haystack in a field. Headed west. Didn’t stop till I got to the Missouri River. Kept working my way west, and here I am.”

  LisBeth was not satisfied. “Is your family gonna come out here when you get settled?”

  “LisBeth!” Jesse nearly shouted.

  LisBeth defended herself. “Well, Mama that Corporal Donovan said that when he got settled he was gonna have his wife and kids come out west, and I thought maybe Mr. Freeman was too.”

  At the mention of family, Freeman’s face became a mask. The tolerant smile left his face, and he looked down at his hands. Still, he answered LisBeth honestly. In a whisper, he said, “Had a wife. Had two boys. They was sold off the place before the war.”

  Jesse’s heart ached for the man. She stood awkwardly, waiting for him to stop. She didn’t want to hear his story, but he seemed to need to tell it. He looked steadily at LisBeth, who stared back, unbelieving. She had heard about slavery, but it had never touched her. The war had come and soldiers had left the fort in droves. Volunteer recruits from Iowa had come to take their places. It had had little effect on her life. But here, before her, was a man—a nice man—who had lost his family. Freeman went on. “The Massah promised he’d never do it, but times got tough, and he went back on his word. Guess they all do, sometime. When the war came, I ran off first chance I got… lookin’ for Mattie and the boys. It was no use. It was like they disappeared off the face of the earth. I hope they got away. There was some folks who helped us when we ran away.” Freeman’s eyes clouded over. Then he whispered to himself, “I hope they got away.” He had returned to a past world that LisBeth and Jesse would never understand or know.

  Inhaling sharply, he brushed his hand across his forehead and looked again at LisBeth. There was no smile, but she heard the kindness in his voice as he said earnestly, “You be thankful that God borned you right where he did, LisBeth. You’ve had some hard times, I know. But you’ve been free. You never had to fear that your mamma’d be sold away from you—never had to fear you’d be sold away. You be grateful.”

  LisBeth nodded solemnly. “Mr. Joseph, sir,” she offered, “I’ll pray for your Mattie and your boys. Mama says the Lord cares for all his children. Mama says we’re gonna see Papa someday in heaven. Sometimes at night when I wish I had a papa, I just think about heaven and how I’ll see him, and I pretend he’s hugging me tight, and then I feel better. Maybe you could think about heaven too… and maybe that…” the young voice wavered. She was too emotional to continue.

  A slight smile came back to Joseph’s grief-stricken face. “You know, LisBeth, that’s just what I do. When it hurts so bad that I just can’t bear it no more, that’s when I look to God for help, and he always seems to have a way of helpin’. Tonight, he helped me by havin’ you say those nice things. You helped me remember that the Lord knows where Mattie and my boys are
, and someday, I’m gonna go in that gate and just inside, they’s gonna be three faces just smilin’ and shoutin’ and glory!” He almost shouted it out, “We shore gonna have us a party then!” He slapped his knees and stood up abruptly. Jesse jumped at the sudden noise.

  The travelers scurried about checking on the horses, spreading out bedrolls, rinsing coffee cups in the nearby creek. As coyotes howled, Jesse and LisBeth lay beneath their shared quilt, watching as the campfire died down. Jesse pondered the future while LisBeth could think only of the past—of families torn apart, of fathers separated from their children, and of men selling other men. The evil called slavery had a face now. It had a name, too. Joseph Freeman.

  Twenty-four

  Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.—Proverbs 3:5-6

  On the morning of the ninth day of their journey, three weary travelers topped a rise on the prairie and paused under a blue sky to survey what lay before them. Joseph Freeman was familiar with the scene.

  “That’s the salt flats.”

  The vast, treeless prairie was punctuated by a large area of blazing white. Smooth as glass, it looked like polished marble. The land was parched and barren and covered with salt. Someone had tried to harvest it and had left the wrecks of two old salt furnaces and two cabins.

  “Where’s it come from, Joseph?” LisBeth demanded.

  “See them cracks there?” Joseph pointed to gaping cracks in the dry earth. Pulling his team to a halt, he jumped out of the wagon and reached down into one of the cracks. It was so deep his arm went in up to his elbow. “Now you see why we’re travelin’ around the basin instead of across it. I’d lose a whole wagon wheel if it fell into one of these cracks. Funny thing, though. I heard about it and I didn’t believe it till I saw it happen. Twice a day—just like clockwork—this here basin floods. Shallow water—only a couple of inches deep, but when it sinks back into the cracks, it leaves the salt behind. Folks come from all over to scrape it up. Sometimes it gets two or three inches deep.”