Jesselynn hid behind the tree with the huge burl and surveyed the scene below. She counted five of the roughest-looking men she’d ever seen, and Cavendar Dunlivey was the ugliest. How had she ever thought him handsome in those long-ago days at Twin Oaks? He wore a coat that once had been gray and cut for an officer, but now dirt warred with holes as to who owned it. His hat slouched over one eye, but the pistol he held against Ophelia’s head glinted in the sunlight.
One man held a gun on Benjamin and Daniel, while two others were leading the horses out of the cave.
For an instant, Jesselynn was grateful they’d hooked Ahab up in the team, but that made no difference now. How could she get them out of this? She fingered the pistol she’d taken to wearing in her waistband and had drawn when she ducked behind the tree. She could get Dunlivey, but what about the others?
Jane Ellen sat where they must have dumped her, face slack, focusing on nothing. Sammy and Thaddeus huddled with Benjamin and Daniel. Looked like both the young’uns had been crying.
“Now, whar is she?” Dunlivey roared, nudging the mouth of the pistol under Ophelia’s chin. Her eyes rolled white, and she whimpered, the sound such pure terror that Jesselynn drew back on the trigger. One shot and he would be gone.
“Who?” Meshach burned with a fire of his own, leashed only by a will that knew he’d be dead, and then what would happen to the rest?
“Miss Jesselynn Highwood, that’s who.”
“Don’t never seen another woman here, boss.” The man guarding the others called.
“She done gone back home.” Meshach stood taller.
“And left that brat here. Naw, she’s around.” He poked the gun again. “Now whar?”
“Gone to her aunt’s house.” Benjamin drew back from the gun aimed at his head.
“Ah, then we wait. She’s comin’ back.” Dunlivey lowered his gun, and Ophelia collapsed in a heap at his feet. He kicked her aside and strolled over to Meshach. “You ’member that beating I owed ya?” He walked around the statue of ebony. “Answer me, niggah!”
The gun now dug into Meshach’s neck.
“Yessuh.”
One of the men who’d tied the mare to a nearby tree now reached down and picked up Ophelia, dangling her as one would a doll. “Now this here might be a fun plaything.”
Meshach growled like an animal at bay.
Oh, don’t move, Meshach. Wait, please wait. You remember Dunlivey. He likes to tease and torture. Hang on.
The man reached out and ripped Ophelia’s dress down the front. She screamed and tried to cover herself. Meshach made a slight motion to go to her, and Dunlivey clubbed him over the head with his pistol. Meshach dropped like a steel weight.
“Watch ’im!”
One of the men shifted over to rest the tip of his rifle on Meshach’s cheek.
Oh, God, what do I do?
“Let them all go, Dunlivey, and I’ll come in!” Her voice rang with authority.
“Ha! I got them, and now you too.”
Jesselynn aimed at the side of his boot. The shot rang out, and he jumped as if he’d been stung. “That wasn’t a miss.”
A string of curses heated the air.
“You want me to try again? Closer maybe?” More curses. A snicker from one of his men.
“Let my people go!” Where had she heard those words before? The shot took off his hat.
Dunlivey nodded to his men. “Let ’em go. But we keep the guns. They won’t go nowhere.”
His men stepped back. “Benjamin, get them outa there.”
Like an adder striking, Dunlivey snatched up Thaddeus. “Now show yourself.”
“Put him down. I told you I’d come in.” Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might leap from her chest. Not Thaddeus!
“Let them all go, Dunlivey, or my next shot is through your heart.” Her hand clutching the pistol shook so hard she couldn’t have hit the cave wall.
“Show yerself!”
Thaddeus screamed. Jesselynn stepped out from behind the tree.
A shot rang out. Dunlivey dropped Thaddeus and clutched his belly that blossomed red with blood.
One of his men raised his gun, but before he could fire, Jesselynn’s shot caught him in the shoulder and spun him around. The other three grabbed him and all disappeared into the trees.
Jane Ellen stood, feet spread, the gun in her hand now pointing at the ground.
“I’m gut shot.” Dunlivey sagged to the ground, trying to hold his lifeblood in with spread fingers. “Don’t leave me! You filthy scum, get back here!”
By the time Jesselynn got down to the clearing, Benjamin had an arm around Jane Ellen and held her as sobs rocked her skeleton body. Ophelia held Meshach in her arms, his head cradled in her lap. Sammy, tears streaming over his cheeks, toddled over to them, and Thaddeus drove straight for Jesselynn.
She scooped him up in her arms and rocked him, raining kisses on his cheeks.
“Someone, help me.”
Jesselynn strode over to the clothesline she and Ophelia had hung and ripped a cloth off the rope. Tossing it to Dunlivey, she said calmly, as if she did this every day, “Fold that up and pack it in the wound. Might stop the bleedin’.”
“The rest of you, let’s get the things out of the cave. We can’t stay here any longer.”
Within half an hour, they were ready to load the wagon. As they went about their chores, no one looked at Dunlivey.
When they trudged up the hill with the supplies, he cried, “Give me a drink at least. Please give me a drink.”
Meshach looked at Jesselynn, ignored her when she shook her head, and took a cup of water to the wounded man, who’d now managed to get himself backed up against a tree trunk.
“Dis only make it worse.”
“You aren’t goin’ to leave me here?”
“Surely your men will come back for you.” Jesselynn knew they wouldn’t. Not the way they hightailed it. Knowing Dunlivey, he’d probably beaten each of them at one time or another.
He coughed. “You got any whisky?”
“ ’Fraid not.” She went back in the cave to see if they’d forgotten anything.
“All ready up here,” Benjamin called from the lip of the ridge.
“Be right there.” She took one more look around. “Take him into town and leave him at the doctor’s. Surely you can do that.” Her mother’s voice rang clear as if she stood right there. Jesselynn sighed. Yes, she could do that, even though he’d need a miracle.
“Ya can’t go back, ya know.”
She stopped and stared at him.
“I burnt it.” His eyes slitted, and what might have been a laugh choked from his mouth. “I burnt Twin Oaks to the ground the night you left. You got nothin’.”
“What about Lucinda, the others?” He’s lyin’. He’s got to be lyin’. “Slaver got ’em.”
“But they had their papers.”
“Not after the burnin’.” He coughed, and pink spittle bubbled from his mouth.
Jesselynn staggered. Twin Oaks burned to the ground. “You’re lyin’!”
He dug in his breast pocket and tossed her something. She bent down and picked up her silver comb, half melted but still recognizable.
“Found that in the ashes.”
She looked him in the eyes. His glee could mean only one thing. She rubbed the ashes off the comb, spun, and strode off.
“Shoot me, then. Put me out of this misery.”
She looked back. “I’ve never shot a man and I won’t start now.” With that she strode up the hill to where the others waited. Where do we go? What do I do? No matter what I—oh, God—what do I do?
She stopped at the oak with the big burl and, taking a deep breath, turned around. “I’ll send a doctor back for you.” There, Mama. I tried. Each foot felt shod in granite. Where, God, where do we go?
She topped the rise as the fiery gold disc slipped behind the horizon. Oranges, pinks, purples, and magenta bled across the sky and burned the clouds to sil
ver. Then the answer came.
“Where we goin’?” Benjamin handed her the reins.
“West. Soon as we can. West, where there’s no ‘niggers,’ only black men as free as the land.”
Daughter of Twin Oaks Page 30