River to Redemption

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River to Redemption Page 29

by Ann H. Gabhart


  “I think you should,” Adria said. “And ask Maysie too. I used to have a doll like that. Her name was Callie.”

  “Where is she now?” Willeena looked concerned. “Did you let her burn up?”

  “Oh no. She lives in a special place in my heart where I can never forget her.”

  “Mama Hazie said I had a special place in her heart.”

  “That’s good,” Adria said. “And now you will have a special place in Ruth’s heart and my heart too. The more love we gather, the better.”

  Willeena looked as though she wasn’t sure what Adria was talking about. So she skipped to another, easier place. “Your dress is dirty.”

  “Very dirty.” Adria laughed a little. “I fell in a mud puddle.”

  “We got rained on.”

  Ruth had to laugh then. “That we did.”

  “Well, that probably cleaned you up.” Adria stood up. “I guess I better clean up and go to the store.”

  “Maybe you should stay home and rest,” Ruth said.

  “No time for that. It’s freedom day. For Louis. For you. For me.” Adria looked ready to say more, perhaps another name, but then she didn’t.

  “What’s freedom?” Willeena looked up at Ruth.

  Adria answered before Ruth could. “It’s when you can dance when you feel like dancing. It’s when you have a song to sing and nobody can stop you singing it. It’s when you can decide to marry or not to marry. It’s when life is good.”

  “It’s when joy comes in the morning.” Ruth picked up Willeena and held her tight. It felt so good when the little girl put her arms around Ruth’s neck and hugged her back.

  “Pray it’s so,” Adria said.

  “Pray believing,” Ruth added.

  Thirty-five

  Will wasn’t sure he should feel so happy with part of the town in ruins, including his own house and all he owned but his horse. Still, a few clothes, books, and tools, even a buggy, could hardly compare to the blessings the Lord had been raining down on him. His daughter in his arms. Ruth looking at him with love in her eyes. A church family ready to help with whatever he needed. A town that loved a slave enough to buy his freedom. That man with his unshakeable faith.

  Louis looked up and praised the Lord when they handed him his manumission papers. A small group of townspeople had come along with Will to see Louis freed and then to walk him to his new home, where Elias Brown handed him the deed to his blacksmith shop. Ruth held Willie’s hand and walked alongside Will. Adria was there too with tears coursing down her cheeks. Ruth had explained all Louis had done for Adria when she was a child orphaned by the cholera epidemic. Plenty of reason for the happy tears, but Will suspected more to her tears than happiness.

  The young woman had not revealed where she was during the fire, but then confusion had reigned. Talk had circulated through town about one of the Sanderson slaves disappearing in the night amidst that confusion. A teenage girl.

  Logan Farrell seemed to have disappeared in the night too. Since the fire had started at the wagon shop, some suspected him of being the cause. But no one had proof, and whether they did or not, he was nowhere to be found. No one had any reason to make a connection between the runaway slave girl and Logan Farrell, but stranger things sometimes happened.

  Will simply hoped neither of them were caught. For the slave girl’s sake. For the town’s sake, and especially for Adria’s sake, because he feared Adria’s absence through the night was not completely innocent. A matter for prayer, but not questions.

  Better for Will to rejoice in the freedom of this good man who this day was being rewarded for a faithful life of walking whatever path the Lord laid out in front of him. That was how Will should be. Faithful in whatever each day brought his way. He had struggled with that, but the Lord continued to bless him anyway. And now Ruth was going to stand in front of a preacher and pledge her life to him as he pledged his to her. His heart was comforted by the thought that Mary would bless his union with this woman. She would want him to be happy, her child to have a loving mother.

  His gaze rested on Ruth, and as though she felt his look, she turned toward him with a smile. Tomorrow she would be Mrs. Will Robertson. The thought of their future together filled him with hope. Hope that her smile showed she shared.

  Then they were all smiling as Elias Brown handed Louis Sanderson a pinging hammer. A couple of women clapped their hands together and one of the men laughed.

  The biggest smile was on Louis’s face as he took the hammer. “The Lord, he done good to me.”

  “Ruth Harmon, wilt you have this man, Will Robertson, to be thy lawfully wedded husband to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him, in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as you both shall live?”

  For just a moment, Ruth wanted to hold up her hand and ask to slow things down. Everything was happening too fast. She could barely breathe. She had never been an impulsive person. Never. And yet, here she stood in front of a preacher who was asking if she would speak two words that would change her life’s direction forever. Two small words that would join her to the man beside her. A man of God.

  Her throat felt too tight to speak. Next to her, Will shifted uneasily on his feet. He had already answered that he would take her as his wife, to love, comfort, and honor. That was what she wanted to hear, and yet now she hesitated. They should have found a way to wait. To get to know one another better.

  That morning before they came to the church, Will had promised her all the time she needed to get used to the idea of being married. “I only want to hold you if you want me to hold you.”

  The thing was, she did want him to hold her, but that didn’t keep her from feeling as though she’d climbed into a barrel to roll down a bumpy hill. Once when she was a child, she had done that very thing and been thrilled and scared at the same time. Then the thrill had won out over the dizzy bumps and bruises. Instead of fussing at her foolishness, her father had laughed and helped her back up the hill with his arm strong around her. Just as Will’s arm had been strong around her during the storm.

  Silence fell over the church as they waited for her to speak. It wasn’t a question a preacher asked more than once. Beside her, Adria eased closer to touch her hand, to lend support whatever her answer. On her other side, Will waited for her answer with one hand on Willeena’s shoulder to keep the child quiet in front of him. To help her understand what they were doing, Will had explained the marriage ceremony before they came to the church.

  So now Willeena tugged on Ruth’s skirt and whispered, “You have to say you wilt.”

  A laugh bubbled up inside Ruth to open up her throat. She glanced down at Willeena. “You’re right. I do.” She reached to take Will’s hand then as she looked at Reverend Collins. With no quaver in her voice, she spoke the necessary words. “I will.”

  Will smiled over at her, relief more than evident on his face. He squeezed her hand as he said, “Are you sure that’s not supposed to be I wilt?”

  He didn’t appear to be bothered in the least about interrupting the words of the marriage ceremony. And why should he be? It was their wedding. A few extra words would just make it better.

  “So true. The right word can mean the world.” Ruth smiled up at Will. She loved the kindness in his eyes and maybe even better the understanding she saw there as though he already knew her. “Then I wilt.”

  Willeena giggled. Adria put her hand over her mouth, but she couldn’t hide her smile. Even the Reverend Collins appeared to be struggling not to smile as he intoned the final lines of the ceremony and pronounced them man and wife. He was surely right that a marriage should be a solemn undertaking and not something to be taken lightly.

  But that verse in Proverbs did claim a merry heart worketh good like a medicine. Ruth was glad for the smiles as they left the church to walk back to their house with their two daughters. Her hand in Will�
�s felt natural and right.

  Life didn’t stop rolling along because vows of marriage were spoken. The day was young and much work remained to be done. Will went back out to help clear away debris from the destroyed buildings. Ruth built up the fire in her ovens to bake bread for those in need, along with the cakes and pies her customers expected. She was glad for the return to routine. Kneading the bread dough and stirring up the cakes gave her hands something to do while her mind considered the idea of being Mrs. Robertson and all that meant. Willeena happily settled under the table with spoons and a couple of old pans to pretend cook for her doll.

  When Adria came into the kitchen wearing her baking apron, Ruth frowned. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you going on to work?”

  “Not today.” Adria didn’t look directly at Ruth. “I’m going to help you today. In fact, you should let me do it all and you go find Pastor Robertson to go on a picnic or something to celebrate your marriage. Seems odd to just get married and not do something special.” She sprinkled some flour on the biscuit board and turned out a bowl of dough on it. “Not that I know anything about getting married.”

  “These are not normal times.” Ruth shrugged a little. “Not with so many of the church people in need of help.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Adria pressed the dough down and then flipped it over. She worked the dough a moment before she went on. “Actually, I told Mr. Billiter I wouldn’t be back to work at the store.”

  “Oh?” Ruth stopped beating the cake batter and studied Adria’s face. “How come?”

  Adria stared down at the bread dough as her hands went still. After a moment, she looked up at Ruth. “I hope you won’t be upset or disappointed with me.” She dropped her gaze back to the dough and began slowly kneading it again. “I suppose I’ve already disappointed you by refusing Carlton.”

  “I only want you to be happy.” Ruth started to lay her stirring spoon down and step around the table to Adria, but something about the girl held her back. She didn’t need hugs. She needed a listening ear.

  “I know.” A smile flitted across Adria’s face as she raised her eyes from the bread to stare at the sunshine flooding in the window. Under the table, Willeena banged her spoon on a pan, but Adria hardly seemed to notice. “Happiness can be like a butterfly you chase after. Always one flutter of wings ahead of you, but then if you stop chasing what you think should make you happy, you can feel the warmth of the sunshine on your shoulders, and the fragrance of your favorite flower is in the air. That butterfly might even drift close enough to let you feel the flutter of its wings.”

  Ruth reached across the table to touch Adria’s arm. “That’s lovely.”

  “I like butterflies.” Willeena crawled out from under the table and began circling the room pretending to be a butterfly.

  Adria smiled at her and this time the smile didn’t slide away but stayed as she looked at Ruth. “I suppose some of that poetry you used to read to me burrowed down in my brain. I’m glad, very glad, you have a new daughter to read to now.”

  “I can still read to you too.”

  “I’ll wait for the poems in the mail.” Adria’s smile faded. “I’m going to Boston. I telegraphed my friend Abigail. She has a room where I can stay as long as I need to, and she’ll help me find suitable employment.” Her eyes begged Ruth for understanding. “I can no longer hide how I feel about slavery. I don’t know how much I can do to make a difference, perhaps nothing, but I have to try. If I stay here, I might get you and even Pastor Robertson in trouble simply by association with me. I could even end up in jail. You know the abolitionist message is not welcome here and it’s considered a crime to help anyone to freedom.”

  “It wasn’t a crime to help Louis.” Ruth’s heart felt heavy.

  “But we can’t collect enough money to free every slave. And even if we could, some would refuse to release their slaves. You know that.”

  “You’re probably right. They would resist losing their property.”

  “But that’s just it. Men, women, and children shouldn’t be anybody’s property.” Adria leaned closer to Ruth as though to make her point clearer. “Our country needs to make slavery illegal instead of making helping some person escape a dreadful life illegal.”

  “Would you do that? Break the law?”

  Adria met Ruth’s gaze. “I would.”

  She didn’t say she had already done so, but even though the words didn’t pass between them, Ruth knew. She thought of the posters tacked up around town describing the young runaway slave girl. Ruth wasn’t sure whether she knew the girl or not. Slaves stayed in the background, a nearly invisible part of life in Springfield. Once you knew the people the way she knew Louis and Matilda, the way she knew Bet, then it was harder to ignore the injustice of slavery.

  Ruth started beating the cake batter again and Adria shaped the bread into loaves to rise. An uneasy silence grew between them in spite of the noise of the spoon against the bowl, the thump of dough into the loaf pans, and Willeena back playing with her pan and spoons.

  Ruth counted one hundred strokes and then poured the batter into the greased and floured pans. She gave her spoon to Willeena to let her lick the remaining sweetness out of the bowl. When she straightened back up, she let her hands rest a moment on the table. She wasn’t sure she should ask, but she did anyway. “Did she make it?”

  Adria didn’t shy from the question. “I pray so.”

  Ruth reached across the table to take Adria’s flour-covered hand in hers. “I join my prayer to yours. And I will pray for you as you do what you think you must.”

  Tears floated in Adria’s eyes. “I’ll miss you, Aunt Ruth.”

  “If you don’t think it’s disrespectful to your mother, I’d love to hear you call me ‘Mother.’” Ruth blinked back her own tears.

  “You’ve been mother in my heart ever since I put my hand in yours the day Louis brought me to your doorstep.” Adria stepped around the table then to hug Ruth. “Thank you for giving me a home, Mother.”

  The word sounded right in Ruth’s ears. Then Willeena was pulling on Ruth’s apron. “Mama Ruth, I sticky.”

  “I think you are.” Ruth laughed as she picked Willeena up. The child must have put her face down in the bowl to lick it. She even had batter in her eyebrows.

  As Adria got a wet cloth for Willeena’s face, she was laughing too. It was good to have the sound of laugher in the kitchen. Tears might follow on the morrow when Ruth had to say goodbye to Adria, but now the laughter felt golden.

  Thirty-six

  The next morning, Adria was up before the sun. She could hardly believe that at tomorrow’s sunrise she wouldn’t be waking up here in this house where she’d spent her whole life. First with her parents and then, after the cholera epidemic, with Ruth. But her packed case sat next to the door, ready to be loaded on the stagecoach. Tonight she would stay in a traveler’s inn in Louisville before boarding a steamship to Boston.

  Excitement warred with trepidation. She wanted to go. She wanted to stay. She had no idea what her future would hold in Boston, but she had no doubt she needed to leave Springfield. Someday she might return, but it was best not to think of somedays. One day at a time.

  She dressed and tiptoed down the stairs and out of the house to keep from waking the newlyweds or sweet little Willeena. She did regret not having the chance to get to know the little girl better, but her leaving would open up a room for Willeena. And who knew? Perhaps Ruth would finally have the blessing of bearing a child after adopting two motherless girls. Adria smiled as she imagined a new little boy running through the house the way her little brother had once done. When she’d dreamed of marriage and children, she’d thought to name her first son after her father and Eddie. But now, she’d turned her back on marriage. At least the marriage everyone had expected for her with Carlton. She considered finding him to say goodbye. After all, they’d been friends forever, but his angry words were too fresh in her mind. Best to avoid another confrontation. He wou
ld be fine. Janie Smith would happily take Adria’s place in his life and make a better wife for him.

  But there was one person she did have to tell goodbye. Louis.

  He was at the forge, already building up the fire, ready to shape metal into nails, plowshares, horseshoes, or whatever might be needed. Even before she made any noise to let him know she was there, he turned toward her.

  “I thought to see you today, Missy Adria.”

  Adria looked around the blacksmith shop and couldn’t help smiling. Louis already had it in better order than it had ever been with Elias there. “You’ve got it looking good.”

  “I can’t hardly believe this is for real. That the Lord and me can start up the day with no worry about what the massa might want done.” He looked around too and then back at Adria. “All because of you and Miss Ruth.”

  “No, because of the whole town, or really because of you. Just you.”

  “Whatever the cause, ’tis a mightier blessing than any I ever imagined the Lord sendin’ down to me.” He ran his fingers over the hammer handles that hung in easy reach. “But what brings you out so early? You ain’t been gone all the night long again, have you?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t tell Bet to come to you.” Louis’s smile turned to a frown. “You know that, don’t you?”

  “I do. Bet told me you wouldn’t do that.”

  “If’n she’d a come to me, we’d have found another way without puttin’ you on danger road.”

  “It worked out.” Adria kept her voice low. “The Lord made a way.”

  “He has a knack for doin’ that. Makin’ a way outa no way.” Louis settled his gaze on Adria. “He’ll be goin’ to do that for you too. Show you a way.”

  “He already has. I’m leaving Springfield today. Going north to Boston.” She felt less shaky saying it this time. Maybe by the time she climbed aboard the stagecoach to begin her journey, she’d be sure of her path.

 

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