“A baby?” Abby set the tea tray down with a rattle. “You gonna have a baby, Miss Carrie Mae?” Her face shone with joy.
Carrie Mae nodded, dashed an errant tear away, and smiled with trembling lips.
“Oh, lawsy me. We gonna have a baby. I better gits to hemmin’ diapers. We ain’t had no baby in dis family in too many years. Wait till Miss Sylvania hears dis. She be over de moon wi’ joy.” Abby left the room, chuckling as she went.
“Have you written to Jesselynn yet?”
“No, I wanted to tell you first.” She accepted the cup of tea Louisa poured. “Jefferson said we must look for a house now. Our flat is too small for a baby and a mammy. Wouldn’t Lucinda love to mother another Highwood baby?”
“That she would.” Louisa nibbled a cookie after dunking it in her tea.
“You think she would come if I sent for her?”
Louisa stopped chewing. “Why, Carrie Mae Steadly, that is the most wonderful idea anyone has had in ages. Of course, you might have to send someone for her. Can you think of her taking the train here all by herself?”
“I wish Aunt Sylvania would get home.”
“Not till late afternoon. She takes her lunch with her, and they work most of the day.” Louisa stopped and let the thoughts flow. “Oh, I have the best idea.”
“What?” Carrie Mae leaned forward. “Tell me.”
“Well, it has nothin’ to do with you, but what if I taught my wounded soldiers to knit and sew? They could help with the war effort that way and would most likely feel like they are doing something useful.”
“Men sewing and knitting. Louisa Highwood, have you lost your mind?”
“Wait till Zachary hears this idea.” The words made her chuckle. Along with the other one. Things are likely to get pretty lively around here.
SPRINGFIELD, MISSOURI
“I can’t leave without knowing where she is!”
“Need be home before dark.”
“Meshach, I know that!” She felt like screaming. What could have happened to Agatha? Somewhere from the far reaches of her memory, she heard her father saying, “That aggravating Agatha, I swain . . .” Jesselynn now understood why. Couldn’t she have at least left a note?
“The post office!” Jesselynn spun on her heel and darted out the door, Meshach right behind her. Sure enough, there was a letter addressed to Master Jesse Highwood from Mrs. Hiram Highwood. Jesselynn tore it open and read swiftly. “She’s taken a position with an elderly couple over on Sunshine Street.” She looked back to the postmaster. “Could you please tell me where that is?”
He gave her directions, and they left as fast as they’d come.
She literally threw herself off the horse and ran up the walk to a house in much better shape than the one Agatha previously had been in. At least the roof appeared to be in one piece. This area of town didn’t seem to have suffered any damage from the battle. Again a two-story house, this one painted white with green shutters. Three shallow steps led up to a porch with heavy pillars that stretched across the entire front of the house.
Jesselynn knocked on the carved oak door with an oval glass center.
Aunt Agatha parted the lace curtain and, peering out, smiled and opened the door. “I knew you would find me.” She hugged her niece and patted her shoulder. “When the Reverend said these old folks needed some help, why, I knew it was an answer to prayer. Since none of the things in that house of Lettie’s were my own, I just packed my bag and came right on over. I was goin’ to sell all the food in the basement to Mr. Dummont, but I knew you could use some of it and perhaps would bring some over here for us, as well.”
Jesselynn had never heard her aunt run on so. But then she hadn’t known her all that long either.
“Would you like to meet the dears?” Agatha took her arm and pulled her toward the kitchen.
“No, I think not, not today. We have to get on home. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. You’ve even been haunting my dreams in that drafty, old falling-down house.”
“Are you sure? You can’t stay even for a cup of tea?”
Jesselynn nodded and extricated herself from her aunt’s grasp. She patted the liver-spotted hand. “Do you have any money of your own with you?”
Agatha pulled herself upright and managed somehow to look down her nose at her niece, who was a good four inches taller than she.
“Now, don’t go gettin’ all het up. We’re family, and I feel responsible. I sold some horses today. . . .”
“Not the Thoroughbreds?” Agatha gave “aghast” a new meaning.
“No, no. Some we found after a battle in the woods. We healed them up and sold them to the army.” She dug in her pocket and pulled out several silver dollars and a ten-dollar gold piece. “Here, just in case you need it.”
“No. I will not take money from you when I don’t need it.” She stared at the coins on the outstretched palm, picked out two dollars, and closed Jesselynn’s fingers back over the rest. “I know you mean well, dear Jesse . . .” At Jesselynn’s raised eyebrow she cut off the further syllable. “But I am just fine here.”
“All right, but if you need anything, you also have a credit at Dummont’s store. Keep that in mind, and if you need to get ahold of me, well, you did it.” She kissed her aunt’s cheek and opened the door. “Take care now, you hear?”
“That’s just what your daddy always said when he left. Bless his heart. And yours too.”
Jesselynn stepped back out on the porch, so grateful she didn’t have to come in with the wagon and carry her aunt out to the cave that she could have leaped the picket fence.
She filled Meshach in on the news as they rode out of town, both of them keeping an eye out for anyone who might be following them. If the captain suspected they had more horses, he might send someone after them.
“Dat old woman goin’ to come west, you just watch.”
“She’s fine where she is.” Oh, I hope so. I do not need anyone else to cart along.
Meshach gave her that wise smile he wore when he was absolutely sure about something. Her mother had sometimes said she felt Meshach had a bit of the prophet in him, that it would most likely come out more as he grew older. There had been times when he had foreseen something, but Jesselynn had pooh-poohed his predictions. The thought of Aunt Agatha in a wagon heading west didn’t bear thinking about.
They circled round and came to the cave from a different direction, even though their earlier tracks led directly to their entrance. Meshach whistled, received an answer, and down the slope they went. The boys ran to greet them when they led the horse and mule into the cave.
“Gone long time.” Thaddeus held his arms high to be picked up. Jesselynn hugged him and settled him in the saddle. Had he been much taller, he wouldn’t have fit; the ceiling was that low. “Good Chess.” He leaned forward and patted the horse’s shoulder.
Jesselynn led him back to the horse corral, as they called it, and swung her brother to the ground so she could unsaddle. “Do you hear that?” She cocked her head as if listening closely.
“What?” Thaddeus looked around.
“That sound?” She pretended to listen again. At the puzzled look he gave her, she said, “That little voice callin’ your name. Hear it? Thaddeus.” She made her voice soft and whispery.
He wrinkled his brow trying so hard to hear.
Jesselynn glanced up to see the big grin on Meshach’s face.
“I hears it.” He leaned close to the saddlebag behind the saddle. “From in dere.”
Thaddeus clapped his hands. “Me see.”
Jesselynn lifted the flap on the leather bag and peered inside. “Sure enough. There he is.”
“Me see!”
Jesselynn reached inside her saddlebag and brought out the sack of peppermint sticks. Instead of just two, she’d bought one for every one of them. “Here. You hand them out.”
Thaddeus did that, his chest swelling enough to pop his buttons if he’d had any. He went to each pe
rson around the cave and gravely gave them a red-and-white peppermint candy stick, accepted their thanks, then plunked himself down by the fire to suck on his own. He patted the rock beside him. “Jesse, you sit here.”
“I will.” She pulled out the sack of coffee beans and gave them to Ophelia, who inhaled the fragrance and closed her eyes in delight. The rest of the food things she set down on the bench of lashed branches Meshach had made during the days of confinement. “That ought to make things easier for a while.”
Sammy, candy stick in mouth, sat down beside Thaddeus and held out his candy in a sandy fist. “Good.”
Jesselynn debated where to store the gold coins. She was not concerned that one of her people would steal them, but she wanted them safe in case they were attacked. And so they didn’t get scattered. The storage boxes were too obvious a place. Finally she kept out one coin and rolled the two leather bags containing the rest in a scrap of leftover deerskin, then set the packet under a rock in the horse corral, off to the side above the ground by a foot or so. When satisfied, she showed the hidden place to Meshach in case something happened to her.
The snow melted within a week, setting the creek to frothing fury so that Daniel and Benjamin had to be careful when letting the horses drink. No longer could they stand in the shallows and drink contentedly. The bank sometimes gave way, and all they needed was for one of the mares to be injured.
Jesselynn checked them daily as their bags swelled and their bellies sagged. “Make sure you hold them tight so they can’t take off somewhere to drop those foals,” she admonished the men. Benjamin, who’d worked with the horses since he was a small child, gave her a wide, slow smile.
“Yes, Marse.”
Jesselynn rolled her eyes and laughed. “Sorry. But we can’t afford to lose a baby. Those two are the foundation for the herd after the war. If only we could do something about foaling stalls. We have to separate the mares out. Ahab could get feisty and hurt one of them.”
“If we need stalls, we make stalls.” Meshach beckoned to the two younger men. “Now we cut posts.” Within a week they had sunk posts as far as the floor of the cave permitted and run rails to the walls. While the stalls weren’t airy and roomy like those at Twin Oaks, they would be adequate. Next he chopped down an oak tree and split off withes to make two oaken buckets. When he set Daniel to cutting thin withes for baskets, Ophelia wandered around in a happy daze for hours before she began to weave an oaken basket.
Benjamin bagged two deer, so they stretched the new hides over the doorway and brought the weathered ones in to tan.
The next morning Jesselynn was trying to get ready to leave for town when Jane Ellen asked, “Where’s Sammy?”
“I don’t know.” Jesselynn dropped the harness and glanced around the cave. Since the day had dawned clear, the open door let in some extra light, but not a lot. “Thaddeus, where’s Sammy?”
The little boy looked up from his building sticks. “Don’t know.”
Ophelia ran to the mouth of the cave. “Sammy! You get on in here.”
Jesselynn joined her, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Sammy!” She called his name twice and shook her head. “Surely he didn’t toddle off. He wouldn’t leave Thaddeus.”
“Then where he be?” Ophelia dashed away the tears already forming. “He can’t be gone. Sammy!”
Jesselynn reentered the cave. Could he have crawled back under the covers? She thought for a moment. No. Jane Ellen had gone hunting for wood and leaves by herself this time. Could Sammy have followed her?
“S-a-m-m-y.” Ophelia’s voice sounded fainter.
“Here.”
Jesselynn spun away from the stores and glanced around the dim room. No little black boy. “Sammy?”
“Here.”
“Thaddeus, do you see Sammy?”
Thaddeus looked up from his building and glanced around the area. “Over there.” He went back to building his cabin.
Jesselynn swallowed. He’d pointed to the horses. She bent down, and her heart took an extra beat. There sat Sammy under Dulcie.
“Sammy, don’t move. Just stay right where you are. Thaddeus, go call Ophelia. Now.” She eased her way over to the horses. “Thank God, he’s not under Roman,” she whispered. “Easy, girl, now don’t get restless here.” She laid a hand on the mare’s shoulder. Sunshine shifted, turning to see if Jesselynn had the feed bucket with her. She bumped Dulcie, and the mare laid her ears back.
“Easy.” One kick and he could be dead. God, hold the animals steady, please. With one hand on the mare’s halter, she reached under with the other and grabbed Sammy’s arm. He let out a howl, Dulcie backed up, and Jesselynn had the little boy tucked under her arm. “Sammy, I could paddle your behind till you won’t sit down for a week.” She slipped under the bar holding the horses back and plunked him down on the rock by the fire. “You know better than to go in with the horses. Shame on you!” The finger she shook in his tear-streaming face moved of its own accord. Her heart had yet to settle to a regular rhythm.
Ophelia ran in and snatched the baby up in her arms, raining kisses on his cheeks and hair.
“He needs a switchin’ so’s he won’t do that again.”
“Yes, suh, Marse Jesse, I do dat.” She turned the little one end for end and walloped him three times. Sammy screamed, Ophelia sobbed, and Thaddeus came running in.
“No, don’t hit Sammy. No.” He grabbed around Ophelia’s leg and hung on. Sammy clung around her neck.
Jesselynn headed for the cave entrance. If she stayed she might laugh at the scene going on. Leave it to Thaddeus to protect his friend. But if she laughed, she might start crying, and if she did that, she might never stop. Once she’d walked off some of the fear and anger, she remembered what she’d done. So I prayed. That was only in an emergency, mind you. I don’t want anything to do with a God who allows war and guerrilla bands and slave traders and little boys almost getting stomped, and . . . She sniffed back the tears. So I’m sorry I said anythin’. I won’t do it again, you hear? She propped herself against a rock, thanks to knees that felt ready to give way, and sighed, the kind of sigh that takes the starch out of shoulders and neck and belly. “But thank you anyway.”
Sammy still sniffed occasionally when she returned to the cave. Thaddeus glared at her.
“Thank you for savin’ the little scamp.” Ophelia had a three-foot rawhide string tied around Sammy’s wrist and her ankle. “He don’ go nowhere now.”
“Good idea. At least until Jane Ellen comes back. I’m taking the wagon to town to clear out Agatha’s cellar. Think on what you need while I harness the team.” Where I’ll store it all, I have no idea, but I know we’ll use it.
Sometime later Jesselynn dusted off her hands after loading the wagon at Aunt Agatha’s. Keeping some apples out, she took the barrel over to the store and had Dummont credit it to her account.
“There’s wood outside the back door of the house and in the shed. You could get that, too, and put it against her account.”
“She ain’t used any of what you left last time. I feel strange having all this credit built up like this.”
“Don’t worry. I need a small keg of molasses and ten sacks of oats, if you have them.”
“I do. Anything else?”
Jesselynn pulled out her shopping list. She’d drawn around the little boys’ feet and the big ones’ too. “We need boots in all these sizes, heavy pants for two men, and some yardage. You selling any knittin’ wool? My ma would sure like some wool for knittin’ stockings.” She breathed a sigh of relief. Almost trapped herself there.
Mr. Dummont’s face fairly glowed as he set her order on the counter. “Now, how many yards and what kind of material?”
Jesselynn contemplated her list as if she didn’t know what the females of the group rightly wanted. “Ah, black wool for britches and some pretty cotton for my sister.” She studied the list again, trying to look confused like a very young man might over women’s things. “Hard to read her w
riting. That’s three yards wool and four cotton, I guess. While you finish up getting it all in order, I’m taking some stuff over to Aunt Agatha. Be back soon.”
But when she drove up to the new house and knocked on the door, a bent-over old man answered. “They’s gone to the church,” he said in a weak voice after she introduced herself and her errand. “But you can unload the things in the coach house there. We don’t have horses any longer.”
“Thank you, sir, and please tell Aunt that I was by.”
She unloaded the last of the vegetables, both dried and fresh, although some of it looked a bit shriveled now. By keeping the root crops, other than the potatoes, covered with sand, the vegetables had retained their moisture and flavor. Her mind flashed back to Twin Oaks. All they had put by gone up in flames. And the larder had been massive, though they left all the root crops in the ground and covered the rows with straw to dig out when needed. Surely her people were able to dig those to help keep them going. If only she could figure a way to send some of her gold to them.
Back at the store she helped Dummont load the wagon, then drove off for the cave. They should be set now for the next month or so. On her way home she thought back to her habit of praying in an emergency. She’d gotten over a lot in the last months. She could get over that habit too.
Rain brought in the month of February, rain in never-ceasing sheets of silver that turned the hills to mud and the creek to a roaring river. No longer did they water the horses near the cave but took them up the hollow to another calmer place. Finding grazing took much of the day for Daniel or Benjamin. The hay Jesselynn managed to buy from a farmer and bring back in the wagon could only be fed to the mares, since they were being kept inside. Besides finding wood, bringing in dry leaves for bedding the stalls was a major part of Jane Ellen’s and Thaddeus’s day.
“We’ve got to find another cave,” Jesselynn said one night after supper. “We’ve stripped the area around here bare.”
“But we set up for the foalin’ here.” Benjamin looked toward the back of the cave where the two mares occupied their own stalls, the others dozing in the corral.
A Secret Refuge [02] Sisters of the Confederacy Page 8