Seth considered the loaded wagon. When they returned from their honeymoon trip, the newlyweds would take up residence in the east wing of the big house, which had a private entrance at the back. It would be much easier to bring Natalie’s belongings through that way.
“Take the wagon around to the back of the house. I’ll send Jeptha to help you unload. I’m sure Zina can direct you where everything goes.” Seth started to leave, but Moses’ deep voice stopped him.
“Mistah Brantley, suh,” he said, dipping his head slightly.
“Yes?”
“I just wanted ta say even though I belongs ta Miss Natalie, bein’ her carriage driver an’ all, I be livin’ here at Rose Hill now. I ’spect there be times when I ain’t so busy that I cain’t he’p ’round here.” When he smiled, Seth noticed several teeth missing. “I real good with the livestock an’ sech. Be right happy ta work in them barns with the critters.”
Seth accepted the offer with a nod. “I appreciate that. Of course, when Miss Natalie and Master George return in a few weeks, you’ll need to make sure that is acceptable with her. Until then, I’ll see that Monroe understands you are working with the animals upon my orders.”
The slave seemed pleased. “We’ll go on to the back now an’ get the wagon unloaded.”
Seth watched them go, wondering what other changes would take place once George and Natalie returned. Although both Moses and Zina legally belonged to Natalie, through marriage they now actually belonged to George. And that man had certainly proven himself an unscrupulous owner by his actions with Lucy. Seth hoped the attractive Zina would be safe from George’s pleasure-seeking ways.
He made his way to the barn to locate Jeptha, finding the young man already at work mucking out stalls. Jeptha stopped what he was doing when he saw Seth.
“I would like you to go help Moses unload Miss Natalie’s belongings,” Seth said, drawing up to the chest-high wall of the enclosure.
“Yassuh.” The slave leaned the shovel against a wheelbarrow half full of manure.
“Zina will tell you where to put the things.” Seth turned to go but stopped when a strange expression flashed across Jeptha’s face. “Is something wrong?”
The black man shook his head, but his eyes told another story.
“Out with it.” Seth folded his arms across his chest and waited. Ever since the day they spent working with Freedom, Seth felt an odd kinship with the slave. Something he’d never experienced before in dealing with his father’s slaves.
“It’s just that I’d rather not be around Zina, suh.” Jeptha wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“Why not?”
Jeptha glanced up, a pained look on his face. “’Cuz I with Celia now.”
Recalling Jeptha’s admission to being sweet on Zina, Seth could understand his discomfort being around her. But they lived on the same plantation now. They were bound to see each other. Best to get it over and done with and move on.
“I understand,” he said, “but I’m afraid I still need you to go help Moses. It won’t take long.”
Jeptha nodded. “Yassuh.” He trudged out of the stall and exited the barn, leaving Seth weighed down with a load of guilt. Wasn’t he in a similar position, with Adella engaged to Marshall? Seeing them together made his blood boil, but at least he knew he and Adella would be together soon. Jeptha had no such assurances.
Saddling Chester, he rode out to the fields, wondering if his views of slavery were as valid as he’d always believed. As far back as he could remember, his father had owned slaves. Most everyone they knew owned slaves. Granted, Luther Ellis owned more than anyone Seth had ever met, but then he owned more land than most. He needed more workers than Seth’s father and their neighbors.
He’d never given slavery much thought until the day the runaway shot him. After that, he’d looked at every slave with suspicion, knowing they all weren’t as easy to manage as his father’s people. In fact, Seth had to admit he’d actually begun to hate Negroes. They represented the very reason he’d had to give up his career as a Texas Ranger and why he walked with a painful limp. He had never actually considered the plight of the man he was chasing until the other day. Even now, he wasn’t entirely sure what to think about it. Had the slave not been armed and yet tried to run, Seth probably would have shot him. That the escapee shot him first in his attempt at freedom left Seth wondering which of them had more right to fire on the other.
Coming up on a group of slaves hoeing rows of cotton plants, Seth watched from a distance. The group was mostly women, although several younger boys and a few men were sprinkled throughout. The work was hard, with the day promising to grow blistering hot by afternoon. Yet these people had no choice in the matter. They had to work the fields, rain or shine, bitter cold or raging heat. Their lives were not their own. They were property, belonging to Luther Ellis, living at the mercy of the master’s whims.
One woman stopped hoeing. She stood upright, arching her back, her big belly protruding from beneath her dress. Lucy. Carrying George’s baby. Working the fields owned by her child’s grandfather. The irony left Seth disgusted. He watched as she rubbed the small of her back, in obvious discomfort. When she spotted him astride his horse, however, she quickly returned to work.
What would Adella say when she learned about the baby? A secret like this couldn’t stay hidden forever. She would be aunt to the child. Knowing how upset the situation would undoubtedly make her, Seth felt he should be the one to tell her. But the timing would be tricky. He’d rather wait until they were safely married and away from Rose Hill. That way any upset or confrontation she might demand with George would not stand in their way of marrying. Whether Luther was aware of the baby or not, Seth didn’t know, but either way, he suspected the elder Ellis wouldn’t care. He was, after all, the man who wanted to breed his own slaves.
As the afternoon sun began to make its lazy descent toward the western horizon, a strange hum reached Seth. Though it wasn’t unusual for the slaves to sing while they worked, this low chant was something he’d never heard before. It seemed to drift from field to field until those slaves nearest him also repeated it.
“Patter the pat. Patter the pat.”
Over and over. Never loud. Just a low murmur that seemed to take on a life of its own as it wove its way from one field to the next. No one looked up but continued hoeing and muttering the unusual phrase.
A few minutes later, Seth noticed riders coming up the long drive. Five horses yet only four men in the saddle. Two large dogs trailed them. Curious, he urged Chester into a gallop and met the group when they rounded the last bend before reaching the house.
“Hello,” he called as he neared. It was then he noticed the body of a man lying face down across the saddle of the fifth horse.
A slave’s body.
“Hello,” the older man in front said drawing to a halt. He eyed Seth a moment. “You the new overseer?”
“I am.”
Seth didn’t need to be told these men were patrollers, or patterollers, as the slaves called them. They earned their living hunting down runaway slaves and keeping watch over the roads. Any slave unaccompanied by a white person without a pass faced the bullwhip if caught, although Seth knew such men often made trouble for slaves with passes just for the fun of it.
Now the low chant made sense. It warned of the presence of a patrol.
“Name’s Bill Dunn.” With his thumb, he motioned toward the body. “Got old man Langford’s boy here. Thought I’d let Mr. Ellis know we found him.”
Seth glanced at the body, shirtless and bloody. Flies buzzed around the open wounds on his back, arms, and legs. “Where did you catch him?”
“Halfway to ol’ Mexico.” Dunn laughed. “That boy might’a made it too if someone hadn’t seen him holed up with one o’ them sympathizers. Can’t understand why anyone would help a no-good Negro runaway, but there are plenty of ’em that’ll do that all the way to Mexico.” He sent a stream of spittle to the ground.
; Seth nodded. The information wasn’t new to him. In his years with the Rangers, he’d heard of people who willingly harbored runaway slaves and helped get them across the border to freedom. Many were Tejanos—Mexicans living in Texas—but some were white. They faced fines and punishment if they were caught, but still hundreds of slaves were aided in escaping to Mexico every year.
“You couldn’t bring him in alive?” Seth asked.
Dunn sneered. “Langford didn’t care one way or the other. That boy wouldn’t cooperate with us, would he?” He turned to his men, who laughed. “Had to set the dogs on him.”
Looking back to the body, Seth’s stomach churned. He didn’t want Adella to see the grisly sight. “I would rather you fellows didn’t go up to the house. There are womenfolk who don’t need to be exposed to this.”
Dunn spat again. “Ain’t nothing but a dead Negro, but we’ll head on to Langford’s. Tell Mr. Ellis we’ll stop by when we ride out again.”
Watching the group depart, Seth couldn’t help but feel sickened. Had he been as callous as those men when he’d hunted down the runaway?
The thought pierced him with shame.
Turning Chester back toward the fields, he stopped in his tracks. In front of him, every slave watched the horsemen.
Adella moved out of the way as Jeptha and Moses brought in yet another large trunk, which was obviously heavy, judging by the way they struggled up the stairs. “I declare, Natalie must have kept the seamstress busy for months with so many new gowns in her trousseau.”
Zina offered a half-hearted smile when Adella looked her way. The girl had been acting odd ever since Jeptha arrived to help bring in Natalie’s things. The two had ignored each other, never speaking a word, with Zina giving Moses directions as though Jeptha was not in the room. Something was definitely amiss here, but Adella would wait until they were alone to get to the bottom of it. Knowing the two had secretly been sweet on each other for years, she hoped the young couple would marry now that they both lived at Rose Hill. Adella hadn’t mentioned anything to Natalie regarding the matter, but she would as soon as the newlyweds returned. There wasn’t any reason why the two slaves shouldn’t be allowed to jump the broom.
Glancing around the freshly painted bedroom, Adella smiled with satisfaction. The redecorating had turned out beautifully in spite of Natalie’s ever-changing desires. The enormous bed George ordered filled the space, though not so much that it seemed overcrowded. The forest green coverlet matched the drapery, yet the creamy walls kept the room from appearing too dark. A bureau and dressing table with a large mirror sat near the window, with a grand fireplace directly opposite. French doors opened to the adjoining sitting room, and Adella made a mental note to send Joseph into town tomorrow to check on the new wallpaper Natalie ordered.
“This here the last of it, Missy Ellis.” Moses’ deep voice broke into her thoughts, and she turned to see Jeptha and him carry in another enormous trunk. “It for the sittin’ room.”
Adella nodded. “Very well. Set it in that room, but we will wait to unpack it after the new wallpaper arrives.” She looked to Zina for confirmation of her instructions but found the young woman staring out the window. Was that a tear glistening in her eye?
“If that be all, Missy, I get back to work,” Jeptha said when he returned from the sitting room. His gaze strayed to Zina then back.
With a frown, Adella wondered if the couple had quarreled. For a brief moment, she considered ordering them to speak to each other and work out whatever problem they had, but that didn’t seem appropriate. While they were indeed slaves of Rose Hill and had to obey her commands, they were also human beings with feelings. They didn’t need her meddling in their private business, although she still planned to speak to Zina about Jeptha. If not directly, she could at least steer their conversation in that direction in hopes the young woman would reveal what had her upset and why they weren’t speaking.
“That will be all, Jeptha. Thank you for your help.” She watched him leave, noticing he didn’t walk with his normal springy stride but rather seemed dejected, with his broad shoulders slumped. Most likely from Zina’s rebuff, she guessed.
“I takes the wagon on up to the barn now, Missy Ellis, ’less you needs me to he’p with somethin’ else.” Moses mopped his brow with a square of unhemmed cloth. The big man smiled despite the exertion he’d extended the past hour.
“Thank you. That will be fine. If we have need to move anything heavy, I’ll send word to you.” He started toward the door when she remembered something. “Moses, before you leave, I want to thank you for your sermon last Sunday. I am looking forward to having you bring a good word to us every week now that you will reside at Rose Hill.”
The compliment should have brought a smile, but a hint of sadness crossed his weathered features. “I always happy to talk ’bout Jesus, Missy.”
She waited, but he didn’t seem inclined to continue. “Are you not pleased to be at Rose Hill?”
He glanced at Zina before dipping his head. “I gonna miss my family, is all.”
Shamefully, Adella realized she never once considered the slave’s life at the Langford plantation. Moses was simply Natalie’s driver and personal errand runner. That he might have a wife and children had never crossed her mind.
“I am sorry, Moses. I … I didn’t know you had a family,” she said, knowing the words were pathetically inadequate.
A smile softened his face. “Gots me a good woman an’ five young uns. The Good Lawd done blessed me mightily since He brought me to the Langfords’. My old mastah tell me the Bible say a man is happy when his quiver is full o’ chillens.” He grinned. “I a happy man, Missy.”
She smiled. “I will speak to Natalie and George about your family when they return. Perhaps it could be arranged for them to come here.”
“I shore would ’preciate that, Missy,” he said. “I best get on now an’ get that wagon to the barn.”
“That was real nice of you, Missy.” Zina moved toward the nearest trunk after Moses left. She opened it and took out a lovely peach colored gown wrapped in tissue paper. Tossing the paper aside, she shook out the wrinkles on the dress before reaching for the next one. “Moses and Harriet are crazy about each other. She carried on something fierce when we left this morning.”
That news greatly disturbed Adella. It wasn’t right to tear families apart. Even though the two plantations were less than ten miles from each other, Moses wouldn’t be able to spend any time with his wife and children. Being newly in love, she couldn’t imagine Seth being taken from her so abruptly, never knowing when she would get to see him again.
“I hope Natalie’s father will allow Moses’ family to come to Rose Hill. I suppose I need to speak to Papa too, since the decision is really his.” She sighed, frustrated by the whole situation. “It isn’t right, Zina.”
The young woman looked up from her task. “What isn’t right, Missy?”
“That you and Moses and Jeptha and Aunt Lu have no say in the decisions that are made about your lives. Moses shouldn’t be forced to leave his family just because Natalie is moving to Rose Hill. I imagine you were happy to come since your mother is here, but I’m sure no one asked your opinion, did they?”
Zina shook her head, although she looked a bit uneasy at the turn of conversation. No doubt she’d never had a white person speak to her about slavery in such a manner. Perhaps, Adella thought, it was best to keep her opinions to herself for the time being. Jeptha was the only slave to whom she’d ever spoken so truthfully, and she didn’t want Zina repeating something to Natalie, or even to one of the other slaves, thus bringing down trouble if her father or George ever got wind of it. Neither of the men appreciated her sentiments regarding the slaves.
“Well,” she surveyed the cluttered room. “I suppose it will take you most of the day to get Natalie’s things organized and put away. I’ll send Carolina up to assist you.”
“Thank you, Missy.” Zina smiled. “She’s a sweet girl.
Mama says she reminds her of me when I was that age.”
Adella didn’t mention the fact that Zina had been sold to the Langfords by the time she was Carolina’s age. Instead, she said, “Yes, Carolina is sweet. And so eager to please.”
Zina continued working, and Adella watched, wondering how to broach the subject of Jeptha. Though she felt a twinge of unease, knowing it was really none of her business, she wanted to see the young couple happy. “I assume you will move into your mother’s rooms above the kitchen instead of living in the quarter.”
“Yes’m.” Zina removed a stack of folded lacy pantaloons and carried them to the bureau. “It will be strange not to sleep on a pallet in Miss Natalie’s room, though.”
Adella chuckled. “I remember the first night Hulda slept away from my room. She said she snuck in and peeked at me just to make sure I was fine. Of course, it was I who insisted I was too old to have my mammy sleeping in the same room anymore. I believe she would still be there, had I not forced her to return to the quarter with her family.”
Zina offered a smile and continued working. Adella tapped her fingers, trying to come up with a question or comment that would open the doors to a conversation about Jeptha. Nothing came to mind. Finally, she decided to simply be honest with the young woman.
“I noticed you and Jeptha didn’t speak to one another a little while ago.” She eyed Zina for a reaction.
For a moment, Zina’s hands stilled. “Oh?” She gave a slight shrug. “I guess I was too busy with Miss Natalie’s things.”
Adella narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think that is it. I have known Jeptha my whole life, and I have never seen him act so … down.”
Zina met her gaze. “He seemed down to you, Missy?”
“Yes. He kept looking at you, but you never acknowledged him at all.” She raised her brow in question, hoping to encourage the other woman to tell her what happened.
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