“Not a bad place to be. The middle. Churchgoing, hardworking, God-fearing folks in the middle.” He gave her a sideways glance. “I’ve even heard some of them are abolitionists.”
“Not many of those in Springfield.” She stared straight ahead. “If any.”
“Must be a few the way this scheme you and the preacher cooked up is drawing in the money. All to set a slave free.”
“People want to help Louis.”
“I’ve never been able to count on people helping me.” A hint of bitterness tinged his words. He made a sound something like a laugh. “I learned that early on. Had to figure out how to take care of myself.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No need for you to be sorry about that. If you want to be sorry about something, be sorry I didn’t come to Springfield before you got engaged to that hayseed.”
“Carlton is far from a hayseed and I’m not engaged to him or anybody.” Adria kept her voice firm. This man took far too many liberties.
“I’m guessing if you asked Mr. Damon, he’d give a different opinion on that.”
“Carlton is a fine man. We’ve been friends forever.”
“Forever friends. Not a bad way to start a forever life together.” He was quiet a couple of seconds, then went on. “If that’s what a person wants. To be forever without adventure or anything new. To be stuck here, knee-deep in kids.”
“You don’t want to have a family?” She wasn’t sure she’d ever met anyone who spoke against the joy of a family.
But then there was Abigail in the east ready to give up her chances for love and family to fight for a cause she believed in. Just thinking about that made Adria feel guilty. What was she doing? Reading all the material. Writing anonymous letters. Afraid to even admit to wanting to fight for the abolishment of slavery. She was such a coward.
“Family.” Logan echoed her last word. “Sure, I want family when the time is right.”
“When will the time be right?” Adria had often wondered about the answer to that question for herself. Would she know when the time was right or would she let that time, perhaps her only time, slip right past her? Plenty of people in Springfield thought she was already letting that happen by not accepting Carlton’s proposal.
“I can’t name a date, but I figure I’ve got some more life to live first. Places to see. Things to do.” Logan looked off down the street as though trying to see some of those places from where they stood.
“You make settling down to have a family sound like the end of life. Not the beginning, the way I’ve often heard.”
“Trust me. It’s more an end than a beginning. No more chance to chase adventure. Got to work to bring home food for the family. Can’t hear about a wagon train going west and drop everything and go. Not with a wife and babies.”
“Whole families go west,” Adria pointed out.
“So I’ve heard, but then a man is tied to a wagon, ever worried about protecting that family. No chance to ride off and be free.” Logan shook his head a little.
“Well then, I suppose it’s very good that you don’t have a wife to curtail your freedom.”
“I have yet to meet the woman who might like adventure as much as I do. A woman with dreams of more than grubby little hands clutching at her apron while a man sits at her table demanding supper.”
Adria laughed. “You do paint a sad picture. I don’t remember family being like that at all before my parents died. My mother was always happy and singing.”
“Must have been because she had such a delightful daughter.” He flashed Adria that smile again. “But here we are at Sam’s.”
Adria looked at the door. She’d never been in a tavern. Ruth would be appalled that she was even standing in front of one. “Perhaps I should wait outside.”
“Don’t worry, Miss Starr. People are people wherever you meet them. In church or in a tavern. Some good. Some bad. But Sam is one of the good ones.” He held the door open for her.
Sam might not be the only man in there, she wanted to say, but she kept quiet and stepped through the door. It was simply a place of business like Billiter’s Mercantile. A bawdier business perhaps, but as Logan said, people were people wherever.
Inside the light was dim in spite of the front windows and lamps attached to the walls here and there. The smell of the burning oil mixed with that of fried food and something else. A sharper odor. Alcohol. But the men around a few of the tables didn’t appear to have imbibed too much of the stuff.
Logan noticed her looking around. “See, nothing going on. I’m guessing you see these fellows at the store all the time. Just regular Springfield folk. The drovers looking for a good time will be out later to get things hopping.” He winked at her. “Wouldn’t be the best place for you then. I’d have to fight a dozen men to keep them away from a pretty girl like you.”
The short, stocky tavern owner stepped out from behind a counter and hurried toward Adria. Logan was right. She did see Sam Hoskins at the store all the time. She’d had no need to get the gossips talking and Carlton upset by going into the tavern to see him. But that was likely Logan’s purpose. To make trouble between Carlton and her.
“Miss Starr, welcome to my tavern.” The man socked Logan’s arm. “I never thought you’d get her in here, lad.” He turned back on Adria. “Not a lady like this one.”
Adria smiled at him and shook her head. “I may have given up any claim to being a lady when I went to work at Billiter’s.”
“No truth to that. It’s the heart that shows the lady,” Sam said. “What can I do for you? Something to drink or eat?”
“Not right now, Mr. Hoskins, but thank you.” She hesitated a moment to give Logan the chance to speak up about why they were there, but for a change, he didn’t seem to have anything to say. It was up to her to ask. “Logan said you might be willing to contribute to our fund to buy Louis from the Sanderson family. To buy his freedom.”
“A good thing. I’m glad you and Mrs. Harmon came up with the idea. Matter of fact, I left some money with your boss yesterday.” Sam frowned a little. “Didn’t you get it?”
“Oh, Logan thought I needed to come pick it up.” She frowned at Logan, who shrugged a little before he stepped over to one of the tables to talk with the men there. “Mr. Billiter is keeping some of the money in his safe. We were busy today, so he probably forgot to tell me about it.”
Sam’s smile was back. “I know how that can be, but busy is good for merchants like us.”
“Yes. And thank you so much for giving toward Louis’s freedom.”
“How much have you collected? Enough?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s adding up. People are donating at the church to Reverend Robertson and also at the store. Plus, the pastor plans to talk to the Sanderson family to see if they might lower their price.”
“They should. Or just write up his manumission papers themselves, but some people see a dime behind every penny.”
“We’ll get enough.”
“I hope so.” Sam lifted a corner of his apron to wipe his face. “Louis is a fine man. He buried my little son when I was too sick to lift a finger to do what was needed. Lad was only three years old. Had no chance against the cholera. Louis came and took him out to the cemetery.” Sorrow deepened the lines on his face. “Carried his little body like it was the most precious thing in the world. It was to me, but Louis didn’t even know the boy. He just had that much compassion flowing out of him for us who were sick.”
“I’m sorry you lost your son.” Adria’s throat tightened as she blinked back tears, remembering her little brother. She hadn’t seen Louis pick Eddie up, but she had no doubt he had carried him in the same gentle way.
“My dear mother died too. It was a bad time, for sure. I sent my wife and daughters away at the first sign the boy was sick. The wife hasn’t ever forgiven me for that.” He pressed his lips together for a moment. “But she and the girls didn’t die.”
“So many sad stories,” Adria s
aid.
“I hear them all the time in here. It’s a confessional. Not one in a church with a priest and all. This one is right here where people live.” He looked past Adria to the men at the tables. “In fact, I’m thinking some of these men might owe Louis a coin or two. Let me gather a little more for your hopper.”
He stepped away from Adria and slapped his hand down on one of the tables. “Gents, this little lady here is taking up money to buy Louis Sanderson and set him free after all he done for us here in town during the cholera epidemic a few years back. Burying our folks when everybody else was too sick or too scared to do it.”
A couple of them shuddered at the mention of cholera. Adria knew how they felt.
Sam reached behind the counter and pulled out an empty pan. “So drop in some money and your next drink will be on the house.”
Logan took the pan and carried it around among the men in the tavern as though he was passing the offering plate at church. Every man reached in his pocket and pulled out something to put in the pan, even the men Adria didn’t remember ever seeing in Springfield. Sam was to thank for that with his offer of free drinks.
Or maybe it was Logan with that smile. He seemed able to get people to do what he asked. Wasn’t she standing here in a tavern? She looked across the room where the serving girl leaned against a doorway that must lead to a kitchen. A smile played across her face as she watched Logan, and then she reached into her apron pocket to hold out a few coins for the pan.
Sam spoke up beside Adria. “You know that Farrell fellow well?”
The question surprised her. She turned to look at Sam after watching the girl’s smile brighten when Logan stepped toward her. Sam was watching the girl, too, with a little frown scrunching the skin between his eyes.
“Not well. He hasn’t been in town long.”
“Right. A drifter. He comes in here to eat some.” Sam nodded toward the girl. “That’s my daughter. I done warned her about the likes of him.” Sam looked directly at Adria then. “That kind has sweet words on his tongue and a smile to shove aside a girl’s good sense, but little else. Best keep that in mind, Miss Starr.”
She did have it in mind already from Ruth’s warnings, but still when Logan turned back toward her with that smile, her heart did beat a little faster. She had no doubt Sam’s daughter’s heart was doing the same as she watched Logan move across the room toward Adria. But smile or not, Adria did not plan to lose her good sense, no matter how her heart fluttered. This man was not the kind of man to settle down and raise a family.
Then again, didn’t she wonder if there was more than what Carlton promised her? So perhaps she wasn’t the type of woman to settle down and raise a family. That very thought made her heart beat even faster.
“Here’s more to add to your Louis fund.” Logan handed her the collection pan.
Adria gathered up the bills and coins. Not a lot of money, but every cent counted.
“If I collect more from them that aren’t here now, I’ll bring it by the store.” Sam took the empty pan from her.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Hoskins.” She turned and held out her hand toward the others in the tavern. “Thank you all. This means so much.”
Once back out on the street, Logan kept step with her. “Now that you’ve got money in your pocket, you’ll have to let me escort you home. For your safety.”
“Nobody but you knows I have money in my pocket.”
“And all the men back there.” Logan nodded his head toward the tavern.
“They wouldn’t give the money and then try to take it back.” Adria frowned over at him.
“You’re too trusting, Miss Starr. Some men will do most anything to put cash in their pockets.”
“I prefer to be trusting, but I don’t aim to take chances with this money. I’ll let Mr. Billiter put it in the safe with the other money we’ve collected.” She stopped to cross the street. “I appreciate your help, Mr. Farrell, even if you weren’t entirely honest with me when you said Mr. Hoskins wouldn’t give the money unless I came to get it. He’d already given money at the store.”
“I must have got that mixed up.” Logan shrugged. “But you ended up with more anyway. So all is good, right?” He flashed his smile at her.
“I suppose. It’s always interesting talking to you.”
“I’m getting the feeling you don’t want me to walk you home. Afraid Damon will see you smiling at me?”
“Not at all. Carlton doesn’t tell me what to do.”
“He wants to.” Logan’s smile got broader.
“My wants are what matters, and now I want to go home after a very long day at the store without having to verbally spar with you.” Adria was tired, but mostly she didn’t want to upset Ruth by having Logan show up at the house with her.
Logan laughed. “Are we sparring? It might be more fun to be sparking.”
“Good day, Mr. Farrell.”
“All right, I’ll go peaceably.” He put his hand under her elbow. “After I get you safely across the street. You do have a tendency to not watch for the horses.”
“I’m quite capable of making it across the street by myself.”
“I’m sure you are, and I have scars to prove it.” He touched the still red cut over his eye. “But I need to pick up something at Billiter’s anyway, so surely you can put up with my company a little longer.”
There was nothing for it but to give in gracefully. It was a public walkway, after all. Mr. Billiter was just turning over the closed sign when they got to the store. He left the closed sign on the door, but let them in.
“Did you forget something, Adria?” He looked from her to Logan with a little frown. “Is this man bothering you?”
“No, no.” Adria smiled over at Logan. “This is Logan Farrell.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” When Logan held out his hand, Mr. Billiter took it a bit reluctantly, as though Adria’s words hadn’t reassured him.
“You’re one of those drovers, aren’t you?” Mr. Billiter pulled his hand back and narrowed his eyes on Logan.
“I was, but I’m working down at Byrd’s wagon shop now.” Logan didn’t seem bothered by Mr. Billiter’s less-than-friendly welcome. “I’ve been in your store here a few times. Best place in town for bread or just about anything a man might need.”
Logan’s compliment about the store made Mr. Billiter’s frown ease. The man knew how to charm a person. Mr. Billiter jerked on the ends of his vest and stood up a little straighter. He wasn’t a young man. The cholera had taken his wife, and he hadn’t remarried. His children were all grown with no interest in taking over the store. Mr. Billiter claimed not to care. He wasn’t ready to sit down and do nothing anyway. He might be getting up in years, but he had more energy than Adria. Always busy.
“Mr. Farrell helped me collect some more money for Louis. I was hoping you could put it in the safe.” Adria reached into her pocket for the money.
“Certainly.” Mr. Billiter led the way across the floor to the storeroom where he pushed back the curtain that covered the doorway. A square safe sat just inside the room.
Adria and Logan watched as the storekeeper knelt down in front of it, worked the combination, and pulled it open. He handed Adria an envelope already fat with contributions. She stuffed what she had inside and handed it back.
He put it in one of the cubbyholes and shut the safe before he brushed his hands together and stood up. “Who would have ever thought that our town could come together and do such a thing?” He shook his head. “Give money to set a slave free.”
Adria bit her tongue to keep from saying all slaves should be freed. Mr. Billiter didn’t share her abolitionist feelings.
Logan spoke up. “This lady right here thought it and she’s making it happen.”
He casually put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a half hug. She couldn’t deny that she liked it, even as she quickly stepped away from him. But like him or not, she still wasn’t going to let him walk her home. Ruth wouldn
’t approve. Carlton would be angry yet again. It seemed nobody approved of her walking or talking with Logan Farrell. Not Mr. Billiter, if his frown was any indication, and not even Sam Hoskins.
The question was, what did she think about Logan Farrell?
Twenty-six
Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.
That Bible verse circled through Ruth’s thoughts as she stepped out the back door to lift her face toward the morning sun. No cloud was anywhere to be seen as warm light spread across the yard behind the house. A thunderstorm had swept past in the night, washing the sky until now it was the perfect blue. A tendril of smoke curled up from her kitchen chimney where the blue swallowed it at once.
She already had four loaves of bread in the chimney oven and two cakes in the stove oven. As wonderful as the stove was, the oven was small. When she had more orders, she had to use both ovens even if the kitchen did get stifling hot. Bet had sent over an order for the Sanderson family. Somebody was supposed to pick up the bread and cakes at noon.
The air was pleasant out on the porch with the damp smell of the grass and the leaves shaking down leftover drops of rain when a breath of air moved through them. From the top of a nearby tree, a mockingbird ran through its repertoire. Every song one of cheer.
A poem was there somewhere if she could only pull the words together.
When the morning brings joy, the heart sings.
No, that wasn’t quite right.
When joy comes with the morning, the heart can sing.
Better. But what could she pair with sing? Ring? Bring? Everything?
That was how she felt—as if everything was singing. To her. She wanted to spin off the porch and whirl in the yard with her arms flung out to the side as her young students sometimes did when they were released from their studies. Joy in motion.
And what makes you so joyful this day, Ruth Harmon? That thought brought back a memory of Peter. He was always ready for joy and happy to share that joy with anyone and everyone. Especially her. He would want her to embrace the joy she was feeling. He would tell her to go ahead and whirl until she felt like she was floating.
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