Biting her bottom lip, Adella sighed. “I hope we’ve done the right thing, bringing them with us.” When Seth didn’t reply right away, Adella frowned. “Do you wish we hadn’t brought them?”
He seemed to think over the question, his hands stilling while he stared off into the night. “I’m not sure. I don’t begrudge them their desire for freedom. I can’t imagine being owned by someone, with no choice in the matter.” His eyes met hers. “But I have broken the law by helping them escape. It used to be my job to hunt down people like us and bring them to justice. At least, the justice prescribed by the law.” He ran the curry brush over Freedom’s neck. “Part of me knows what we’ve done is right and good, but the other part isn’t so sure.”
Adella knew he’d done everything for her, despite his great struggle with it. Placing her hand on his arm, he looked at her. “Thank you, Seth.” She hoped her eyes spoke everything her heart couldn’t put into words.
He nodded.
A few moments later, Jeptha and Zina made their way over.
“Missy Ellis. Mr. Brantley. We has something we want to say.” Jeptha gained their full attention with his serious tone. Glancing at Zina, she gave him a shy smile. He took her hand in his and pulled her closer to his side. “Me and Zina want to get married as soon as we reach Mexico. Seems a good way to start our lives as free Negroes. We ain’t asking your permission, being as we’re free now.” He looked over at Zina, who had love and pride shining in her eyes as she nodded, then back to Seth and Adella. “But we’d be honored if you’d give us your blessing.”
“Of course you have our blessing.” Adella hurried forward to embrace first Jeptha, then Zina. Tears of happiness rolled down her cheeks, and she laughed. “I have been trying to get you two together for a while now.”
Aunt Lu came over then, wiping tears from her face. “I gettin’ me another son, Missy. An’ this time I ain’t gots ta worry none ’bout him bein’ sold away.”
Adella gathered the precious woman into an embrace, praying all the years of pain and heartache she’d suffered at the hands of Adella’s own father would be replaced tenfold with long years of peace and joy—and freedom.
As the eastern horizon filled with rose-colored hues, Seth knew he should wake the others and get the group moving again. They’d been on the trail a little more than a week now with no sign of the search party Seth felt certain Luther Ellis had trailing them. But just because they hadn’t seen anyone didn’t mean they were safe. Not until they crossed the Rio Grande would Seth feel he could let his guard down.
Yet he stayed where he was, sitting on a boulder just up the rocky hill from where they’d made camp, massaging his painful leg. The vast Texas landscape spread out for miles around him, silhouettes of trees and cacti becoming sharper in the lightening sky. In a short time, the sun would peek over the edge of the world, bringing a new day and all the promise that held. He’d loved mornings like this when he was a Ranger. He’d loved waking up surrounded by God’s creation, knowing he was doing exactly what he’d been purposed to do.
The thought did not bring a smile.
Where was that purpose now?
It seemed the farther they rode away from Rose Hill, the guiltier he felt. Leaving with Adella was one thing, but to take four slaves that didn’t belong to him weighed heavily on his mind. That he’d come to believe slavery wasn’t the moral institution he’d always been taught it was didn’t matter. The law was on Luther Ellis’s side, and Seth had willingly broken it by helping Jeptha and the others escape. The fact that Adella intended to bring Mara to Oregon with them meant they would continue to be lawbreakers indefinitely. Yet how could he refuse her own flesh and blood, a tiny, helpless baby?
He looked south, toward the Mexican border.
The slaves’ new lives awaited them there. He’d been honest when he told Adella he didn’t begrudge them their freedom. He was happy for Jeptha and Zina, with their dreams of marriage and raising a family. It was the same dream he and Adella had. Dreams like that should be for all, he decided, not just those with white skin.
He let out a frustrated sigh.
If he really believed that, then why did he still struggle with guilt? Why did he wonder if they should turn around and face the punishment they deserved for helping slaves escape?
Adella must have sensed his inner battle. She hadn’t pressed him but cast worried glances in his direction as they rode mile after mile in silence. Her firm confidence that what they’d done was right and good made his doubts that much more noticeable. And unbearable. He’d grown more withdrawn, to the point he hadn’t spoken much to anyone in two days. Jeptha had noticed, as had Aunt Lu. But they’d left him alone, their years as slaves no doubt reminding them a white man’s business didn’t bear meddling.
“Morning.”
Seth turned to find Jeptha standing halfway up the hill. “Morning.” He rose from his seat. “I was just coming to wake everyone. Looks like it’s going to be another hot one. Best get some miles in before the heat gets too bad.”
Jeptha nodded but didn’t move toward camp. His brow furrowed, and he worked the twig he’d stuck in the corner of his mouth.
“I can tell you have something you want to say,” Seth said after a few beats.
“Yes, sir, I do.” He closed the distance between them, tossing the twig to the ground. “Fact is, sir, I gets me the feeling you’re wishing you hadn’t taken on this here journey, helping us get to ol’ Mexico.”
Seth’s brow raised at the candid statement. It was as though Jeptha had read his very thoughts. Thinking of the black man as an equal rather than a subservient slave would take some getting used to. With that being the case, Seth figured Jeptha deserved the same type of candidness. “You’re right. I am. I have never broken the law before, and I’m finding it doesn’t sit well with me to do so now.”
Several silent moments ticked by.
“You thinking you’ll turn us in?” Worry slowed Jeptha’s words.
Seth shook his head. “No.” He knew his answer was true despite his inner struggle. “The price of clearing my guilty conscience is too great. You and Zina and Aunt Lu—and even little Mara—all deserve freedom.”
Jeptha visibly relaxed. “I’m glad to hear that, Mr. Brantley.”
“But it doesn’t change the fact that what I’ve done is wrong.”
“In whose eyes?” Jeptha’s gaze pierced him. “The white man says he can own us Negroes, but did anyone ask us? Did Massa Luther ask me if I wanted to belong to him? To slave hour after hour, day after day, for his gain? Just because I born with black skin don’t give no one the right to own me like I some kind of animal. Don’t matter what the law say. It matter what I say, and I say freedom is meant for everyone, not just white folks.”
The impassioned speech hit Seth in the gut. To hear a slave demand freedom should have frightened him, but instead, it broke something inside, down deep in his soul.
Suddenly, the memory of the man who shot him filled his mind. Seth had hunted him down like an animal. He’d had no intention of treating the man like a human being. The law was on Seth’s side, and he’d prided himself on carrying it out. But what of the man who simply yearned for freedom? Who’d risked everything—like Jeptha and the others were doing now—to grasp what Seth and every other white person took for granted?
He looked at Jeptha, but it was really the dead runaway lying on the ground at the Mexican border that he saw. A man he hadn’t known, and would never know, but who’d impacted his life in the most profound way imaginable. Seth had believed the man ruined his life.
How wrong he’d been.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped, the knot of hatred he’d carried in his heart for over a year unraveling and flowing out of him like water from a spring. “I’m sorry for what I did to you.”
Jeptha nodded, seeming to sense a deeper meaning in the words. “I ’spect we all has things we need to ask forgiveness for. Things we’s ashamed of. Don’t matter what color of sk
in covers your bones. Least that’s what Mammy always said.”
Seth appreciated his understanding. Maybe someday he’d tell Jeptha about the man at the border. A man, like Jeptha’s father, who’d died chasing after freedom. He sent a silent plea heavenward, praying Jeptha would not end up like them.
They made their way down the hill and back to camp where the women were busy rolling blankets and preparing a light meal before they resumed the long journey. Together, Jeptha and Seth moved toward the horses to get them saddled. After several minutes, Jeptha glanced at Seth, a puzzled look on his face.
“Guess your leg is feeling better this morning,” he said.
Seth paused, confused. “Not really. Why?”
Jeptha nodded toward Seth’s leg. “You ain’t limping.”
Looking down at his leg, Seth realized the constant pain wasn’t there. He rubbed his thigh. The muscles weren’t tender the way they’d been for over a year. Sitting in the saddle the past week had brought untold misery, and Seth knew his limp had been more pronounced. Adella had worried over him just last night, voicing her concern that he needed to take a day to rest his leg.
Baffled, he walked away from Chester, turned, and came back.
No limp. No pain. Nothing but two normal functioning legs.
“I don’t know what to make of it.” He looked at Jeptha, who clearly seemed as bewildered as Seth. “I could barely get up that hill a little while ago. Now …” He stared at his leg. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”
Jeptha shrugged and went back to work, but Seth stood staring at the place up the rise where he and Jeptha had talked. He remembered that the throbbing pain in his leg was present while he watched the sunrise. It was present when Jeptha asked if Seth planned to turn them in. But he couldn’t remember feeling the pain when they returned to camp.
It struck him then what had happened.
The pain disappeared the moment he forgave the slave who had shot him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The Rio Grande lay before them, brown and murky and beautiful. Oh, so beautiful. Against so many odds, they’d made it safely into Mexico.
Three weeks, Seth thought. Three long, exhausting weeks had passed since the night they rode away from Rose Hill. Patrols had dogged them the entire way, coming far too close on more than one occasion. Ironically, it had been his experience as a Texas Ranger that saved them. Knowing the trails and roads to stay off, and locating sympathetic Tejanos who offered them shelter and food, he’d kept the little group traveling west and then south. Finding enough milk for Mara was a challenge, and once when the canteen they’d filled at the last homestead ran empty, a Cherokee woman living with her white husband and young child offered to nurse the baby. Every step of the way, it seemed that God was looking after them, and he couldn’t help but think the prayers of Moses and Aunt Lu were somehow reaching heaven.
Adella came up beside him, cradling a wide-eyed Mara. She smiled. “The reverend is here.”
Seth glanced behind her to their camp in the cottonwoods lining the river. Jeptha and Zina stood talking to a tall, thin man. Aunt Lu stirred a pot of beans over an open fire. Their little family, as they’d taken to referring to themselves over the past weeks, were safe. They’d crossed the river at dusk yesterday, just down from Fort Duncan. The town of Eagle Pass, where Reverend Peterson had traveled from, lay upstream. Earlier that morning, Seth had ridden in for supplies and stopped by the mission he remembered from his Ranger days. The preacher was happy to cross the river and perform two wedding ceremonies.
Seth put his arm around Adella’s waist and drew her close. “I was just thinking how amazing it is that we’re here. All of us.”
“Yes.” Adella leaned her head against his shoulder. “I thought all was lost several times.” She pulled away to look him in the eyes. “But you kept us safe, Seth. None of us could have made it without you.”
Knowing this beautiful woman would be his wife within the hour stirred Seth’s blood. He smoothed her soft cheek with his thumb. “No regrets?”
“None. I pray Papa will forgive me someday, but my future is with you.”
Together they walked back to camp. While the women talked with the reverend, Jeptha approached Seth.
“I want to thank you for what you done for us, Mr. Brantley. I can’t hardly believe it, but here I stand … a free man.” He shook his head, getting his emotions under control. “I dreamed about this day for so long.” With a laugh, he added, “But I sho’ didn’t have no white man in my dreams.”
Seth smiled. It felt good knowing he’d helped Jeptha and the others escape bondage. It felt good down deep, to that place where he’d made peace with the man who shot him. And with God.
He extended his hand to Jeptha. “I’m proud to call you friend. If all goes well, I plan to start a horse farm in Oregon. If you ever want a job breaking horses, you’ve got one with me.”
Jeptha looked at the offered hand then met Seth’s gaze. He grinned and grasped Seth’s hand. “Thank you. I just might do that.”
They made their way over to the women. Seth came alongside Adella, who looked beautiful in the rose-colored gown she’d brought along especially for their wedding ceremony.
“Are you ready to become Mrs. Brantley?” he whispered close to her ear.
The love and hope that shone from her eyes when she looked at him warmed him down to his dusty boots. “I have been ready since the day you rode into Rose Hill, looking far more handsome than any man should.”
He raised his brow. “Oh, you have, have you?” He planted a kiss on the end of her nose then cocked his head to look down at her feet. “There’s just one thing I need to check before the ceremony.”
“What?” she asked, clearly puzzled.
“Just making sure my bride is wearing her shoes.”
Acknowledgments
Two dear people who made this book possible will never see its publication. Long before I was born, my parents, Albert and Ann Chaparro, loved Jesus and they loved books. I am eternally grateful they passed both loves on to me. Thank you, Mom and Daddy. I know you’d be proud of your baby girl. If heaven has a library, I’ll know where to find you when I get there.
To my husband Brian, I would not want to take this journey without you. Thank you for always believing in me. Thank you for being my chauffeur and for patiently touring old plantations, farms, forts, museums, and antique stores. Adventure awaits, my love.
To Taylor and Austin, although the publication of a book is an exciting achievement, you, my sons, are my greatest accomplishment. God has amazing plans and purposes for each of you, and I’m so honored to be your mom.
Thank you to my agent, Les Stobbe, the champion of new authors. Your wisdom and experience are surpassed only by your deep faith in God.
To my editor, Kathy Davis, thank you for believing in this book and for making my first journey into the world of book publishing a delightful experience. Thank you to Eddie Jones, publisher, for giving me this opportunity. Many thanks to all the staff at LPC who worked on this book in various ways. I am blessed to be part of the LPC family.
Thank you to Paula Bicknell, the best critique and prayer partner a girl could ask for. You challenge me to be a better writer. I’m so tickled we are on this journey together.
To my fellow authors at American Christian Fiction Writers, thank you for your friendships, your knowledge and the willingness to share it at conferences, and for the amazing examples of what it means to be a writer for the Kingdom.
To all my friends and family who have asked about my writing over the years, encouraged me to keep going, and waited patiently for my first book, thank you! I hope you enjoy this book enough to ask about the sequel.
Although I used many resources in my research, one book in particular deserves a shout out. I Was Born in Slavery: Personal Accounts of Slavery in Texas, edited by Andrew Waters, provided priceless true narratives of former Texas slaves. Reading their own words, and hearing their voices in my mind,
served to remind me how important it is to tell the story of Texas slaves with as much accuracy as possible. I named many characters after actual slaves to honor their memory.
Above all, thank you to my Savior, Jesus Christ, for loving me enough to carry my sins to the cross. To Him be all the glory.
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