by Jan Drexler
“Afternoon.” He smiled at Adam, his teeth stained yellow-brown from tobacco. He turned to Hannah and tipped his hat. “Miss.”
Hannah moved closer to Adam as he nodded a greeting to the man.
“Y’all be some of them Quaker folk?”
“No, we’re not.”
The man nodded. “Good. I’ve had my craw full of them abolitionist do-gooders.” He spit brown tobacco juice at his horse’s feet. “We’re after some escaped property.” He fished a handbill out of his coat pocket and held it up. “A big buck named Tom.” He gestured toward Hannah as he stuffed the paper back in his pocket. “He’s a dangerous one, he is. Wouldn’t want the women folk to be near him, if you know what I mean.”
Bile rose in Adam’s throat. He had never been so tempted to smash another man’s face. “I’m sure I have no idea where he is.” Not a lie. He hadn’t seen Tom since the man disappeared around the bend in the creek.
The man rose in his stirrups and took in the woods on both sides of the road. “Well, the dogs have tracked him here, so we know he’s not too far.” He spit another wad into the dust. “You keep an eye out for him, you hear? You help us find him, and we’ll share the reward with you.” He nodded. “That’s right. Your share would be a whole dollar. So you let us know if you get wind of him.”
He winked at Hannah, and then followed the man and his straining dogs into the walnut grove.
Hannah took Adam’s arm. “They’ll find his hiding place, won’t they?”
“Ja, but Tom isn’t there anymore.” They listened to the dogs’ barking fade into the underbrush. “I hope they lose his trail at the creek.”
“What . . . what would they do to that escaped slave if they found him?”
Adam grasped Hannah’s hand where it lay on his arm. It was soft and yielding. “Did you see the whip he had tied to his saddle?”
Hannah gasped. “He wouldn’t use it on a man, would he?”
“Ja.” Adam nodded. “That and much worse. These bounty hunters treat the black men like animals. The only thing that keeps them from killing the poor wretches is the reward they’ll get for returning them to their owners down south.”
“That’s terrible.” Hannah’s voice whispered in the stillness left by the boisterous slave hunter, and her hand trembled against his sleeve.
“So do you see why I need to help these people? They have no one else.”
She nodded. “But we have to hurry. I can’t be away from home too long.”
“Hannah.” Adam waited until she turned her eyes on him. His Hannah. “Denki. You coming along today . . . it means a lot to me.”
She turned and started down the road again. He followed her, praying they would find those women and children before the bounty hunters gave up looking for Tom and turned back.
Hannah wanted to wipe the memory of the bounty hunter’s leering face out of her mind. Men like George McIvey were one thing, but this man was evil.
She hurried to keep up with Adam. He walked quickly but paused often, peering into the underbrush on either side of the road.
“Where do you think we’ll find them?”
“Somewhere east of Wenger’s Mill.” Adam stopped, leaning on his knees. “Tom said he had been with them until yesterday afternoon when he left them to pull the dogs off their trail. He came this way, but it’s hard telling which way they might have gone. The worst is that Tom was the only one of the group who knew the signs to look for. Without him, these people can get lost in no time.”
They walked on for another mile or so before Hannah heard something.
“Adam.” She caught at his sleeve. “Listen.”
Adam heard it too. A child’s cry. He turned off the road toward the sound, but Hannah could see nothing.
“Call to them, Hannah. They’ll trust you sooner than they will me. Say ‘I’m a friend of a friend.’”
Hannah looked around them at the sparse underbrush. She was sure the sound had come from this spot.
“Hello?” She glanced toward Adam and he nodded his encouragement. “Hello? I’m a friend of a friend. We’re here to help you.”
She waited, and then called again. “We’re here to help you. I’m a friend of a friend.”
There was rustling on the other side of a pile of fallen trees, and then a head slowly rose above the broken limbs. “A friend of a friend, y’all say?”
Adam’s breath went out in a whoosh as Hannah stepped forward. The woman was young, barely older than Hannah herself.
“That’s right. We’re here to help you. We have food and we’ll take you to safety.”
The young woman’s head disappeared and all Hannah could hear was a whispered argument. A baby’s cry rose and was quickly hushed.
Hannah and Adam stepped closer to the fallen trees, and soon two women emerged from their hiding place, each one carrying a baby. A boy about eight years old followed, and then more children, the youngest barely bigger than William.
“We have food for you.” Hannah took the sack from Adam and held it out to the women. The older one hung back, but the first one stepped forward to take the sack. The children clustered around as she opened it and handed out chunks of bread and ham to them.
“How you find us?” The older woman spoke, her voice rough. Her hands shook as she reached out to hold the boy close to her.
Adam stepped forward. “Tom found me this morning. He asked me to find you to help you on your way.”
At his words both women looked at each other.
“Where he be? He safe?”
Hannah couldn’t watch as the older woman spoke. Her face bore old scars that disfigured her cheeks.
“He was fine, the last I saw him. I gave him a boat to go down the creek to the next safe house.”
“The dogs . . .” The younger woman looked up from feeding the children. “How will he escape the dogs?”
“Once he was on the water, they wouldn’t be able to follow his scent. He had several miles to go, so I hope they’ve lost him. The important thing is to get all of you to safety before the bounty hunters come back this way.”
Hannah watched the children eating the bread and ham as if they hadn’t had a meal in days. What horrors would compel these women to bring young ones on such a dangerous journey?
“My name is Adam, and this is my friend, Hannah. We’ll take you to a safe hiding place for tonight, the same house where Tom is.”
The two women looked at each other, and then the older one nodded. Their decision made, the younger woman straightened her shoulders and faced Adam.
“I’m called Tessa, and this is Sally May. She be Tom’s sister, and these be his nephew and nieces.”
“All right,” Adam said, “we need to go. I’ll lead, and Hannah, you bring up the rear. We have to move quickly and quietly.” He stooped to let the smallest boy climb onto his back and started off.
Hannah fell into line beside Tessa. “Do you want me to carry the baby for a while?”
Tessa gave her a grateful look as she handed the bundle to Hannah. The baby didn’t stir as Hannah moved the dirty blanket covering his face to look at the perfect rosebud lips and black lashes curled against his cheeks. His mouth moved in sucking motions. He couldn’t have been more than a couple months old.
As Tessa took the hand of the smallest girl, Hannah kept pace with her. “How many of the children are yours?”
“Just baby Mose and Lily here.” Tessa nodded ahead of them. “The others are Sally May’s young’uns. They’re all she has left.”
“What do you mean?”
Tessa looked at her, and then glanced away. “I already done said too much. Sally May’ll have my tongue.”
“Why would you risk your lives and the lives of your children to make a journey like this?”
Tessa stopped walking and faced her. “You want to know?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s freedom. I want freedom for my babies, and this the only way to get it.” She reached her hand out to touch the ba
by’s curled fist as it rested on his chest. “What future my babies got in slavery? Nothing. Nothing but work for the master. What if Mose wants to learn to read? What if my Lily wants to marry a man she loves? It don’t matter to the master. They got to do what he says.” She shook her head. “I want more for my babies. I want them to be free.”
As Hannah and Tessa hurried to catch up with the others, Hannah looked down into the baby’s face. His dark brown skin was as soft as any baby with white cheeks. His mother felt the same fierce love for him as any Amish mother. Were the abolitionists right? She had never considered the question, but looking at Mose she was convinced that no man had a right to own another.
11
Hannah held her hand against the stitch in her side as she hurried onto the porch. She rinsed her hot face in the cool water at the washing bench. She had gone along the creek trail with Adam, Tessa, and Sally May as far as she dared, but she couldn’t be late for supper. She had handed baby Mose to Tessa, but her arms ached to take the sweet burden back.
She plunged her hands into the cold water again. What would happen to them? Would they reach the safety of Canada before the slave hunters found them? She might never know.
“Hannah, is that you?”
“Ja, Mamm,” Hannah called back.
“I need your help with supper.”
Hannah dried her hands and face on her apron as she went into the kitchen. The damp apron would soon dry in the hot room.
“I’m sorry I’m late. I lost track of the time.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’re here now. I need you to start frying the fish while I finish the potatoes.”
Hannah nearly dropped the pan of fish fillets Mamm handed her. No reprimand? No questioning where she had been? Ne, nothing. Mamm just turned to the pot of potatoes boiling over the fire.
The fish were fresh and already cleaned. Jacob must have been fishing today. Hannah dredged them through a bowl of buttermilk and then a plate of cornmeal. She put an egg-sized lump of lard in the spider skillet and waited for it to melt.
“Where is Liesbet?” Mamm pulled an apple cobbler from the oven as she asked.
“I haven’t seen her since before dinner.” Hannah caught William as he ran by and checked his underclothes. Still dry. He was doing better at finding the outhouse during the day.
“She wasn’t with you?”
“Ne.” Hannah placed three fillets in the skillet. They popped and sputtered in the hot grease, the aroma making her stomach growl in anticipation.
Mamm lifted the lid of a kettle hanging at the edge of the fire. Hannah breathed in deeply. The tangy combination of vinegar, sugar, and cabbage was heavenly. Rote Kraut, red cabbage, her favorite.
“She’s been going off by herself more lately. Do you know what she might be doing?”
Hannah shrugged. She should tell Mamm about George, but she didn’t want to upset her. “The weather has been so pleasant lately, perhaps she went fishing.”
Mamm turned to look at her. “Liesbet? Fishing? I doubt that.” She turned back to the Rote Kraut. “But perhaps she went for a walk in the woods.”
“I wish she wouldn’t.” Hannah could imagine the scene Liesbet would have made if she had seen Adam and Hannah with the escaped slaves. Liesbet wouldn’t have been able to keep something like that a secret, and then how would Hannah explain what she was doing?
“Why would you say that? Maybe she’s meeting a beau.” Mamm’s voice had a teasing note.
Hannah turned to her, really looking at her for the first time that afternoon. Her eyes were bright, her face calm. Something had changed.
“What if she was?” Hannah wiped one sweaty hand on her apron. “What if Liesbet was meeting a beau you wouldn’t approve of?”
Mamm put the lid back on the pot of cabbage and stirred the fire with the poker. “You know Liesbet would never do that. She knows what we expect of her.”
A noise at the door made both of them look up. Liesbet stopped in the doorway, her skirts littered with dry leaves and her kapp clutched in her hand.
“Why, Liesbet, where have you been?” Mamm went to brush leaves out of her hair.
Liesbet didn’t look at her mother, but sent a quick glance and a sly smile at Hannah. A cold knot formed in Hannah’s stomach.
“I . . . I lost track of time.”
“You look like you’ve been sleeping in a pile of leaves.”
“Ja.” Liesbet gave Mamm an apologetic smile. “I sat down for a rest in the sunshine, and I guess I fell asleep. I’m sorry I’m late.”
“Never mind.” Mamm turned from her, waving her spoon in the air as she turned back to replace the lid on the pot. “Straighten your hair and put your kapp back on, and then bring in the children. It’s time for supper.”
Liesbet ran up the stairs, not looking at Mamm or Hannah. Hannah watched her as she went. She had seen Liesbet try to hide her guilt before, and had seen her lie to Mamm before, but today she looked satisfied, as if she was the cat who finally caught the bird she was after.
Supper was on the table when Daed and Jacob came in. Liesbet had found the little ones, and Hannah made sure their hands and faces were clean. Once they were all sitting at the table, Daed cleared his throat.
“I have an announcement to make.”
Hannah looked from him to Mamm. She wasn’t smiling, but her face was calm. Whatever the announcement was, the two of them were in agreement. Jacob, on the other hand, sat in his seat with his chest puffed out. He knew what it was too.
“In the spring we’ll be heading west, to Indiana. Eli and Yost’s visit a few days ago gave me the final confirmation about something that’s been weighing on my mind.” He took Mamm’s hand and looked at each of the children’s faces, lingering on Hannah’s, until she dropped her eyes. “It will be a new life for us, and one that will be good for our family.”
Liesbet made a gasp as if she were choking and left her seat, her shoes clattering on the stairs as she ran to her room and slammed the door.
Daed and Mamm exchanged looks.
“Liesbet will come to accept the idea,” Daed said. He smiled at the younger children. “What about you, Peter? It will be an adventure, ja?”
Peter wiggled in his seat. “Ja, an adventure. Will we see Indians?”
Daed grinned at him. “I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be surprised.” He looked at Hannah. “What about you? Are you ready for an adventure in the west?”
“I . . . I don’t know. What does Mamm think?”
All eyes turned to Mamm as she smiled at Daed. “I think a change will be good for us. Even though I’ll miss our house and farm.” She turned to Hannah. “The Hertzlers are thinking of going too. Won’t that be good?”
Hannah’s mind whirled. Leave the Conestoga? Leave their farm, their church, their friends? And what about Adam? Would she ever see him again?
Mamm and Daed were watching her, waiting for her answer. She put on a smile. “It will be good to have Johanna with us.”
Her stomach churned. How could Mamm think of leaving their home?
“We have a lot to do before spring.” Daed took another serving of corn pudding. “We’ll need to build a larger wagon to take enough supplies for the trip, plus the household goods we’ll want to take.”
Hannah glanced up the stairway as Daed talked. There was only one reason she could think of for Liesbet being so upset at the news. George McIvey. He was a no-good scoundrel, from what she had seen of him.
After supper Hannah followed Margli up the stairs, tired after all that had happened today. She braided her little sister’s hair and tucked her into bed. Liesbet’s side of the bed the two of them shared was a soft mound. It wasn’t like Liesbet to go to bed so early.
Hannah changed into her nightdress and brushed out her own hair. It was waist long, and thick, and if she didn’t brush it out every night, it would tangle into a thick mess. Braiding it and tying the end with a bit of yarn, she glanced over at Margli. She was asleep already,
her slight snoring loud in the quiet room.
Hannah blew out the candle and lifted the covers of her bed carefully, not wanting to wake Liesbet. The bed was cold. It should have warmed up by now. She turned to snuggle closer to her sister . . . but something wasn’t right. Hannah sat up and pulled the covers back. The lump she thought was a sleeping Liesbet was only a wadded-up quilt.
The pieces fell in place, like a latch closing. Liesbet’s disheveled look when she came home for supper. The satisfied smile. The way she disappeared after Daed’s announcement. Mamm had been afraid she was coming down with a cold, but Hannah knew better. It had to be George.
She would want to tell him of Daed’s decision—but what did she expect George to do? Come with them?
Hannah sat up in bed. Ne, not come with them. Liesbet had said she was going to marry him . . . She must have gone to find him—but where?
Wide awake, Hannah dressed again, binding her braid up so it would fit under her kapp. When she had come to bed, Jacob had been sitting with Mamm and Daed at the table, discussing the new wagon, from what she could catch of the conversation. If they knew Liesbet was missing, it would only worry them. She would start looking for them at the clearing. If she found Liesbet quickly, she could have her back in bed without anyone ever knowing she had been gone.
She stole to her bedroom door and opened it a crack, listening to the murmur of their voices. In less than the fifteen minutes between one strike of the clock chimes and the next, she heard Mamm and Daed go into their bedroom, and Jacob came up the stairs to the boys’ bedroom. She waited until he closed the door and then hurried down the steps as quietly as she could. She pulled her shawl off the hook and threw it over her head, running across the yard to the path she had followed so many times.
As she reached the clearing, she slowed, listening for voices, but all was quiet. She stepped into the open area. There was no moon, and the faint starlight didn’t penetrate far into the woods. She stayed long enough to satisfy herself that the clearing was empty. Where else would Liesbet go?