A guilty look swept across Jeptha’s features. “Oh, I been around, Missy. Weren’t feelin’ so good the night of the party so I stay in bed.” His eyes grew round. “I mean, I just …” He seemed to lose track of what he was going to say. Finally, he gave a nervous shrug. “I been around. Guess you just been busy with Miss Natalie and the others.”
His answer seemed odd, and his behavior even odder. She and Jeptha had never kept secrets from each other, but she had the feeling he wasn’t telling her something. It was the same feeling she’d had when Aunt Lu wouldn’t tell her why he hadn’t been at the party.
“Well, I’m glad you’re all right. Have Mammy look at your ribs. Do you think they’re broken?”
He shrugged. “I’ll have Mammy check ’em.” The old Jeptha grinned. “It right nice to have you worryin’ over me, Missy.”
With a chuckle, they resumed watching the progress in the corral. Seth had backed Freedom into a corner, with the barn wall on one side and the men on the other. With slow, careful movements, Seth ran his hands along Freedom’s neck and shoulders, gradually making his way to the saddle. Once there, he repositioned it and gave the stirrups a jerk then ran his hands back up the animal’s trembling body, repeating the whole process several times.
“What is he doing?” Adella whispered, captivated by the patient way Seth worked with the horse. For a moment, she remembered how it felt to be in his strong arms, knowing the tenderness of his hands on her body.
A shiver ran up her spine.
“You cold?” Jeptha gave her a quizzical glance, the afternoon sun beating down their backs. When she shook her head, he whispered, “He gettin’ Freedom used to the feel an’ smell of him. Movin’ the saddle reminds Freedom it ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
After several more minutes of this, Seth spoke to Joseph. Joseph took hold of Freedom’s lead rope, braced his legs, and seemingly prepared for a fight. The other men climbed onto the rail to watch.
With slow, deliberate movements, Seth stepped into the stirrup. Freedom turned his head to see what Seth was doing but otherwise didn’t move. Sending Joseph a nod, Seth swung his other leg over the horse. The moment his full weight settled into the saddle, Freedom bolted, nearly knocking Joseph to the ground.
“Ride ’im, Mistah Brantley!” Jeptha hollered, followed by a grimace. He put a hand to his injured ribcage.
“Mm-hmm.” Adella gave him a knowing look. “Just think how you would feel if you had climbed back on that horse.”
He shrugged.
Seth and Freedom were a blur as they flew around the corral. When the bucking started, Adella held her breath, frightened Seth would become unseated like Jeptha. She had never witnessed a breaking before and found it more than a little unnerving, especially when the rider was someone she cared about.
Around and around they went, the air thick with dust. Then Freedom tried the same trick he’d used to throw Jeptha to the ground, arching his back as his hooves left the ground. But when he twisted his body, Seth was ready. He held on, his thighs tight against the horse’s shoulders and his hands grasping the pommel.
“That’a way, Mistah Brantley!” Joseph yelled, grinning like it was his own boy out there.
Just when Adella thought this fight between man and beast might go on all afternoon, Freedom broke into a canter. Seth said something to the animal, rode him around the circle several more times, and finally brought him to a stop with a gentle tug on the reins.
“Whoa, boy.”
As carefully as he’d mounted a few minutes earlier, Seth dismounted the same way.
“He don’t want ta spook Freedom, so got to go real slow,” Jeptha supplied. “Mistah Brantley done taught me mo’ about handlin’ hosses today than I evah learned from ol’ Joseph.”
When Seth stood on the ground again, he led Freedom around the corral to get the animal’s breathing back to normal, then walked over to where she and Jeptha waited. Adella noticed his limp had worsened.
Jeptha grinned from ear to ear as he reached through the rail to pat the animal. “You shore ’nough did it, Mistah Brantley. You got this here hoss to ride wit’ch you sittin’ proud on his back.”
Seth chuckled. “Like I said before, Jeptha. You did all the hard work. He was already tuckered out by the time I got to him.”
Jeptha moved to open the gate and took Freedom’s lead. “I take him on in to his stall an’ rub him down. Been a long day for this fella.”
Adella watched Jeptha and the horse disappear into the barn, conscious of Seth standing just a few feet away. Joseph and the other men were already gone.
“That was incredible.” She pretended her stomach wasn’t suddenly filled with butterflies.
“Jeptha should have been the one to get him to walk. He’d worked hard all day.” Dust covered Seth from head to toe, and he looked more ruggedly handsome than any man ought to.
The butterflies swirled faster.
She needed to explain why she ran off after the service. Maybe then they could sort out all that had transpired. She moistened her lips.
“Seth—” she said at the same moment he spoke her name. They smiled.
“Adella,” he repeated, then blew out a breath. “You have every right to be mad at me. I did know what your father was planning, but he said he wouldn’t announce your engagement until after George and Natalie’s wedding. I didn’t feel it was my right to repeat information he’d told me in confidence, even though I wanted to warn you. I hoped he might change his mind and not go through with it.”
She knew he told the truth. Marshall himself admitted he’d encouraged Papa to move up the announcement because of her friendship with Seth.
“I feel like a horse who’s gone to the highest bidder,” she said, moving to the corral fence—away from the entrance to the barn, where someone might overhear their conversation. Seth joined her.
“Marshall and I have never courted. I have never spent more than a few hours in his presence, and that is only when he came to see Papa on business. They have known each other for many years. Marshall’s wife took ill a few years ago and died without ever having children. I can’t blame him for wanting to remarry, but he is much too old for me. I have never shown the slightest interest in him as a suitor.”
“Why would your father consent to your marrying Brevard then?”
That was the troubling part of this whole mess. “I don’t know, other than he wants to ensure I marry well. I suppose he doesn’t trust me to make my own decision. George and Natalie’s marriage was agreed upon ages ago by our parents. It seems Papa intends to continue his ways and arrange mine as well.”
Seth ran a hand through his tousled hair. “I thought we would have more time before I spoke to him.”
“Before you spoke to him?”
The intense look that came to his hazel eyes nearly took her breath away. “I have come to care for you, Adella. I hoped you felt the same way.”
Marshall’s words about Seth wanting her money echoed in her mind. Surely he was wrong. “So much has happened … I don’t know what to think or feel.”
He took a step closer. “If you believe you can love Marshall and want a life with him, I will abide by your word. I won’t like it, but I won’t interfere.” He paused, his gaze caressing her face. “But if our kiss meant anything to you … made you feel something for me … then I beg you, don’t marry him. Marry me. I can’t offer you what he can, but we could make a good life. Maybe we would even go to Oregon and see the ocean.”
A sob caught in her throat. He remembered her wish to see the ocean. This was not a man who cared only for her money. “I will never love Marshall,” she whispered. “I love you, Seth.”
He stared at her with disbelief written on his face. “You do?” When she nodded, his lopsided grin melted any lingering reservations. “I think I have loved you ever since you snuck that apple to Freedom.”
She laughed, feeling happier than she’d ever known. Seth loved her. “What should we do now? Tell
Papa?” The very thought sent a tremor of fear coursing through her. He would be furious.
Seth grew serious. “No. Not yet. We don’t want to ruin George and Natalie’s wedding.”
Adella agreed. “But as soon as they are off to Louisiana on their honeymoon trip, we’ll tell Papa. I don’t want to spend another moment engaged to Marshall.”
The look of love on his face sent a chill racing up her spine. “I thought I had lost you.” His voice was low and tender.
How she wished they weren’t standing in the middle of the barnyard. She wanted to fly into his strong embrace and feel the warmth of his lips on hers.
The sound of horse hooves on the road broke the spell. Papa and the others were returning.
“I best get to the house before Papa and Marshall discover me here with you.” Regret filled every inch of her being. More than anything, she wanted to stay with Seth.
He nodded. “Soon,” was all he said, as though reading her thoughts.
Adella hurried toward the house, her heart nearly overflowing with joy.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Aided by dim lantern light, Seth made his way through the quiet barn to Freedom’s stall. After his wild ride that afternoon, he’d been so focused on Adella and how to break their news to Luther, he’d forgotten all about the stallion. Now, long after dark, Seth was still too wound up for sleep and decided to visit the horse.
He tossed the apple he carried into the air and caught it, wishing Adella were there with him. Soon, he’d told her. Soon they would be together. More than anything, he hoped he hadn’t lied. They still had many obstacles to overcome, the most important being her father’s disapproval. Seth played with the idea of enlisting his own father’s help since Pa would be at George’s wedding the day after tomorrow. Pa and Luther went back many years, to their childhood days in Virginia. Surely Luther would eventually see that Seth would make a good husband for Adella. The Brantleys weren’t rich, but he’d do his best to provide everything she could ever need or want.
He lifted the lantern high when he came to the end stall— Freedom’s eyes glowed as he watched Seth approach. “Hey there, fella,” he said, keeping his voice low. “How are you doing after a long day?”
He hung the lantern on the same nail Adella had used, opened the stall door, and approached the horse. Freedom took a step back.
“I’m not going to hurt you, fella.” He slowly reached to pat the horse’s neck.
Freedom’s big eyes kept careful watch, but he didn’t shy away again. His nostrils flicked when he caught the scent of the apple in Seth’s other hand.
Seth chuckled. “Yes, I brought you a treat. Adella isn’t the only one who can sneak them out of Aunt Lu’s cellar.” He held the fruit flat on his palm. The horse took it easily, his big teeth chomping. Seth continued to pat the animal’s neck while he ate. “I’m sorry we had to work you so hard today. It gets easier, I promise. I can’t wait to take you out of the corral and let you run through the plantation. It may not be the same as running free across Texas, but you’ll get used to it.”
Jeptha came to mind. In a strange way, Freedom reminded Seth of the slave. Both were strong. Proud. Bound by rules not of their own making. Until recently, Seth had never given the plight of the slave more than a cursory thought. Some folks said they were born for bondage and weren’t intelligent enough to take care of themselves without a master. He didn’t necessarily agree with that kind of thinking, but having never lived anywhere but Texas, slavery was simply a way of life to him.
With the ache in his leg worse tonight after his ride on Freedom, Seth sank to the barn floor and sat with his back against the stall, his leg straight out. He massaged his thigh, remembering the day he was shot. When he’d followed the escaped slave into the brush a little over a year ago, Seth hadn’t known the man was armed. Most slaves barely escaped with the clothes on their backs and rarely had a weapon beyond a club made from a tree branch. The gun had probably been stolen from his master, though Seth never learned who that was. The Mexican border lay a few miles south, and like most runaways, that’s where he was headed. But he’d been spotted, and Seth and two other Rangers set after him when he ducked into thick brush. Seth figured it would be easy to flush him out and rode in behind the man. He’d never forget the shock that shook his body when the gun went off and a bullet tore through his thigh.
Familiar anger seeped in. That slave got what he deserved. The other Rangers fired dozens of shots into the brush, killing the man. When they dragged his body out, Seth, in a fog of pain, remembered seeing thick scars crisscrossing his back through his torn shirt. Evidence of previous escape attempts, no doubt.
His fellow Rangers apparently thought so too. “A scarred up Negro means a troublemaker,” Roy Clemons had said. “This boy got what was coming to him this time.”
Seth hadn’t pondered it at the time, but now he wondered what would drive a slave to risk life and limb to run away, knowing the odds of making Mexico were slim? Was life at the plantation or farm where the slave came from really so awful?
Again, Jeptha came to mind. Forced to couple with a woman not of his own choosing, he had little choice but to obey. Slaves had no choice in anything. What the master wanted, the master got. Punishment came in the form of beatings, whippings, and starvation. Worse yet, the threat of being sold loomed heavy if they didn’t measure up.
Was that why the man who shot Seth ran? Had he decided a chance at freedom was worth taking the ultimate risk? What if he’d made it to Mexico? What if Seth and the others had simply let him go? Would he have found the freedom he sought?
Seth stood. No sense dwelling on what ifs. The man sealed his fate when he pointed his gun at a white man.
Taking the lantern, he headed to the door, blew out the lantern flame, and left the lamp on the ground. There was just enough moon to allow him to find his way back to his cabin, where he hoped some of Mammy’s ointment might help his leg. It hadn’t hurt this bad in months. As he limped slowly toward his house, the light of a cabin in the quarter caught his eye. Shadows passed back and forth behind a cabin window, indicating someone was awake.
That’s unusual. At this time of night, everyone was typically fast asleep after a long day of work, knowing morning would bring more of the same. A glance toward the last cabin on the first row, where Monroe lived, revealed darkened windows. The big man apparently wasn’t aware someone else was stirring.
Moving on quiet feet, Seth drew near enough to see two people in the cabin, although there wasn’t enough light to make out who they were. From his vantage point, several feet away, it appeared to be a man and a woman. Though he had no desire to watch a private moment, he stayed where he was, waiting. Something about the man piqued his curiosity. His build didn’t match any of the Rose Hill slaves Seth had become familiar with over the past week.
When the door opened, light spilled into the dark night. The man stepped out, and Seth nearly stumbled backward as a wave of shock rolled through him.
George Ellis.
With his shirt unbuttoned and the tails hanging loosely about his hips, George strode from the cabin without a backward glance. Lucy appeared in the doorway, her protruding belly clearly outlined in the thin cotton gown she wore. Though he couldn’t be certain, Seth thought he saw tears glistening on her cheeks when she backed into the room and closed the door.
George walked out of the quarter and then stopped to lean against a tree. The flicker of a lit match followed by the red glow of a cheroot revealed he wasn’t in a hurry to get back to the house.
The way Seth saw it, he had two choices. He could wait out George, keeping hidden under the cover of darkness, and pretend he hadn’t seen anything. That seemed the best choice if he wanted to keep his job, at least until he and Adella made their plans. Or, he could make his presence known.
His gut twisted. He knew what he had to do.
“Evening, George,” he said, moving out from the shadow of the trees and into the moonlight.
When he drew closer, he could make out George’s startled expression.
“What are you doin’ out so late, Brantley?”
“I was checking on the stallion. We worked him pretty hard today. I wanted to make sure he was settled for the night.” Seth glanced back to the row of small cabins. “I could ask you the same question, but I’m pretty sure I already know the answer.”
George gave a laugh. “Just having a little fun before I become a married man.”
His humor sickened Seth. “I take it the child Lucy is carrying is yours.”
George tossed the cheroot to the dirt and ground it out with the toe of his shoe. “I wouldn’t have any idea. You know how these Negroes are. They breed with each other like animals.”
“And I suppose what you were doing with Lucy is somehow different.”
He knew he shouldn’t have said it, but the other man’s flippant attitude galled. Siring children with a slave just didn’t sit well with him.
George pushed off the trunk of the tree. “I don’t see how what I do is any of your business, Brantley. You may be the overseer here, but these are my slaves. I’ve been taking my pleasure with Negro gals since I was fifteen. If my father doesn’t care, I don’t see why you should.”
So many responses flashed through Seth’s mind, but none were appropriate to say to the son of his employer. Finally, he acquiesced. “You are right. What you do isn’t any of my business.”
Mollified, George chuckled. “If it’s jealousy that has you riled, go ahead and help yourself to that gal. I won’t need her anymore. I will have a beautiful wife to satisfy me.”
Disgusted by the conversation, Seth watched the man walk toward the darkened main house without another word. When he was alone again, he looked back to the quarter, heavy with the knowledge that Lucy carried George’s child.
The day of the wedding dawned sunny and bright, without the slightest hint of rain in the azure sky. Inside the house, frenzied excitement had everyone scurrying to get ready for the short trip to the Langford plantation. The wedding was set for two o’clock in the afternoon, and Natalie had asked the family to arrive early to help complete the preparations.
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