The Quaker and the Rebel Page 11

  “What?” Smith strained to see in the shadowy moonlight.

  “I must examine that horse.” For the second time that day, Alexander felt his blood pressure rise. They secured their mounts and then crept silently into the yard for a closer look. Smith followed on the colonel’s heels with his Colt drawn.

  Even in the poor light Alexander recognized the fine lines and well-tended coat of Miss Kitty. “Confound it,” he muttered as he motioned Smith back to the woods.

  “What is it, Colonel?”

  “It’s the blasted horse of our houseguest, Emily Harrison.”

  The captain looked thoroughly confused.

  “You met her, Nathan, the night of the ball. She was that skinny gal in the blue gown with flaming red hair. When I danced with her, she nearly crippled me, for goodness’ sake.”

  Smith looked at him as though he’d taken leave of his senses. “Yes, I remember—your aunt’s governess. Why would her horse be here?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m about to find out.” Fury got the better of him as Alexander strode toward the door.

  Smith reached out and grabbed his arm. “Wait, sir. Let’s think about this a moment.”

  He glared at Smith. “Why don’t we ask her what foolishness she’s up to?”

  “You told me she was from Ohio. That makes the lady a Yankee. How well do you know her? She could be up to mischief and your sweet aunt and uncle are none the wiser. Anyway, if you go marching into the barn dressed like that, she’ll have no question as to who you are.”

  Alexander glanced down at the gray officer’s uniform, his scabbard and sword, and his scarlet-lined cape. He hated to admit it, but Smith was right. She would take one look at him and his identity would no longer be a secret. “Maybe it’s not Miss Harrison inside. Maybe a deserter stole her horse from our barn.” His heart yearned for a logical explanation. “Let’s take cover in the brush off the trail.”

  Captain Smith stared at him quizzically, but the matter was soon out of their hands. Inside, someone extinguished the barn’s lantern. Then they heard the door open and close with a thud. Miss Kitty began to prance as the mysterious rider struggled to get on her back. The rider, swathed in a hooded cloak, patted the horse’s flank before heading up the path. As luck would have it—for the colonel, not for Miss Emily Harrison—the moon emerged from the clouds and the wind blew back her hood as the rider passed their hidden position.

  Neither man had any doubt as to the identity of the fair-skinned, auburn-haired woman sitting astride in the saddle. At the top of the hill she spurred her horse toward Front Royal and vanished into the shadows. Alexander was left staring into the night with a clenched jaw and wrath emanating from his eyes like sparks from a bonfire.

  True to his word, Porter Bennington returned to Hunt Farms the following evening, haggard and ten pounds thinner. Upon his arrival he went straight to the farm pond with a bar of lye soap and scrubbed himself until his skin was nearly raw. Mr. Hunt’s valet scurried around with towels and fresh clothes, not knowing quite what to make of someone bathing in the pond. The doctor instructed the servant to burn the clothes worn in Front Royal and to tell no one. Later he joined his family at the dinner table eager to hear about what he’d missed at the ball. For the remaining years Augusta and Porter would spend together, he never spoke of his days at the hospital following the battle of Winchester, despite her attempts to coax him. It remained an experience he would never forget. The unspeakable carnage he witnessed and treated—the aftermath of what men did in battle—would stay with him always. He no longer viewed the Southern cause as glorious. Neither side could possibly receive God’s grace with boys as young as twelve dying on the battlefield.

  Porter’s nephew did not attend his reunion dinner, however. Alexander had mysteriously disappeared and still hadn’t returned to Hunt Farms. No one seemed to know where he’d gone. Emily was also absent. She had complained of a piercing headache and excused herself for the remainder of the day. Because light or sound made the jarring pain worse, she had asked not to be disturbed by anyone.

  Lila certainly didn’t disturb her because she knew Emily was not cloistered in her room with a cool cloth pressed to her forehead. She wasn’t in the house at all. Lila didn’t like lying—it wasn’t how she’d been raised. But she would even break the Commandment about bearing false witness to help Emily. Lila spent the day in the basement kitchen helping her mother in order to keep from running into Mrs. Bennington or Mrs. Hunt. That evening she sat alone on the back steps listening to hoot owls and crickets, unable to sleep until Emily safely returned. So many things could go wrong. This close to the front lines, armed patrols stopped and questioned everyone. Or Emily could simply lose her way on unfamiliar roads. When Lila finally spotted her friend riding up the drive, she breathed a sigh of relief and ran to open the stable door.

  Emily quietly entered the barn, dismounted, and then pulled the saddle from Miss Kitty’s back. She startled upon noticing Lila in the shadows. “I’m so glad to see you.” Emily threw her arms around Lila breathlessly. “I was so scared, Lila. I didn’t think it would be so dark on the roads. I know how absurd that sounds, but I thank God that Miss Kitty was able to find her way home.”

  Lila hugged her fiercely. “It doesn’t sound absurd. Of course you were scared. Any normal person would be, but I’m proud of what you’re doing.”

  A stable boy crept from the shadows and silently took the saddle from Emily. He placed it on the shelf and began rubbing down the sweaty horse. “Thank you, Jack.” Emily nodded her gratitude. “Did Mrs. Bennington or Mrs. Hunt get suspicious?” she asked Lila.

  “Nope, not that I could tell. I stayed out of their way today.”

  “What about Alexander? Did he inquire about me?” Her voice faltered.

  “No, he’s not home from Front Royal yet. William came back alone with the empty wagon.”

  “Is that so?” Emily didn’t like this news one bit as they left Miss Kitty in Jack’s capable hands. “I’d better get upstairs before someone notices me gone. Good night, Lila. Sweet dreams.” But Emily’s dreams were anything but sweet as she tossed and turned for most of the night. The next morning she overslept and found her employers already in the dining room.

  “Good morning, Miss Harrison,” greeted Dr. Bennington.

  “Welcome back from Front Royal, sir. I’m sure you’re glad to be home. Good morning, Mrs. Bennington, Mr. and Mrs. Hunt.” Smiling politely, she nodded at the other three. When she noticed Alexander had not yet come down to breakfast, her smile faded.

  “Yes, Miss Harrison, I am,” said Dr. Bennington. “If your headache is better, I have a favor to ask of you.”

  Hiding her confusion, Emily filled her plate with biscuits and sausage gravy. “I feel fine this morning, sir. How can I help?”

  “I must cross the lines into Frederick to buy medicine. Our surgeons are frightfully low on laudanum, quinine, and chloroform. I heard apothecaries there have it for sale, and because I treat as many Union soldiers as Confederate, the people of Frederick shouldn’t mind selling to me.”

  “Oh no, Porter,” interrupted his wife. “You’ve just gotten back. You’ll be no use to the wounded if you drop over dead yourself.” Her strong words reflected her anxiety.

  “Don’t worry yourself, my dear.” He reached over to pat her hand. “I will deliver the supplies to the field hospital and then return to here. The enlisted doctors have the situation well under control now.”

  “How can I help?” asked Emily.

  “I would like you and Lila to visit my office in Martinsburg and load up a list of things.” He produced a folded sheet and placed it on the table. “Because Lila often assisted me on the island, she should be familiar with most of the items. But I don’t want the two of you traveling alone. James, can you spare someone to drive them?”

  “I would send Alexander, but he’s off on one of his jaunts.” Mr. Hunt shook his head. “I’ll send William. He can be counted on to conduct the lad
ies safely to Martinsburg and back.”

  “Thank you. I’m in your debt.” Dr. Bennington pulled his plate of breakfast closer.

  “Nonsense, and I’m coming with you. If medicine is for sale in Frederick, I will be the one buying it. I can’t let you earn all the laurels while I sit around on my backside. How would that look to my wife?”

  “In that case don’t forget your wallet. We’ll buy all they have available.” Dr. Bennington smiled at his brother-in-law with appreciation.

  Emily finished her breakfast in silence, only vaguely aware of table conversation. She had sworn not to help the Southern cause. She was determined to use her employment solely for her Underground Railroad purposes. But how could she refuse Dr. Bennington, especially as the supplies could as easily save the life of a loyal Unionist as a Rebel? Then her lips curled into a smile as her mind crafted the perfect solution. The Bennington mansion in Martinsburg would be empty except for a few slaves. But it would be fully stocked with food for their benefit and in anticipation of the family’s return. Who was to say their trip to his office couldn’t include a stop at the barn in Berryville? Emily couldn’t stop grinning. This would be easier than she hoped with only one problem. William wouldn’t do as their driver. As Alexander’s valet, William was loyal to him. She couldn’t trust the man to keep quiet about odd things he might see. Judging by the stable boy’s behavior last night, Jack would be a better choice. She would wait until the last minute and insist upon him, giving William no opportunity to argue.

  There was nothing quite like a perfect plan.

  Emily’s plan, however, proved far from perfect. William put up a fuss when she chose Jack instead of him. “He doesn’t know the roads well, Miss Harrison, because he seldom leaves Hunt Farms. What if you and Lila get lost?” William crossed and uncrossed his arms. “Mr. Alexander is not going to like this. No, ma’am. He’s not going to like this a’tall.”

  “I appreciate your concern, William, but I insist on Jack. Mr. Hunt will need you here when he returns from his trip.” Emily refused to budge, even though William continued to mutter as he walked away.

  Mr. Alexander doesn’t have a say-so in the matter. Unfortunately, Lila also thought taking Jack was a bad idea.

  “Why can’t William go?” she pleaded. “Jack is a skinny runt of a man, not much older than a boy. What good is he if we find ourselves in a scrap?”

  “Stop and think about this.” Emily set her valise in the buggy. “William probably won’t like the idea of two people disappearing during Mr. Hunt’s absence. He’s loyal to him. He’ll try to stop me, or at least tell Alexander when he returns. This is serious, Lila. I could be arrested and jailed.”

  “I know it’s serious. I could get in trouble just for being with you. But just because William is free black like me doesn’t mean he won’t help a widow and her child reach freedom.” Lila crossed her arms, mimicking William’s posture.

  “I’ve made up my mind and refuse to take the chance,” insisted Emily. “You only prefer William’s company because you fancy him. Please climb aboard. We need to go.”

  While Jack held the reins and Lila sulked, Emily plotted their route from Front Royal to Martinsburg via Berryville on her map. Although Jack seemed a nice young man, he couldn’t read or write and was indeed unfamiliar with the roads. But on the other hand, he didn’t raise an eyebrow as a twenty-year-old woman and her month-old son crawled into the storage compartment of the buggy. Before dawn, Emily had checked the space to be sure it contained enough cracks for air. Then she stowed the woman and her son inside and left their canteens of water and hampers of food under a tarp.

  Lila had learned from the kitchen staff the name of a likely candidate for their first attempt at setting someone free. Widowed the previous spring from a yellow fever epidemic, the woman refused to marry any suitors who presented themselves. Annabelle had no parents or siblings at Hunt Farms, either slave or free, and few friends. Emily had approached the woman during one of her nightly walks near the slave cabins. Although at first reluctant to talk, Annabelle worried she would be sold to another plantation and possibly separated from her son. She possessed few skills to earn money to purchase her freedom. Being sold to another plantation was a fear she shared with the entire slave population.

  “I’ve got nothing holding me here,” she whispered to Emily during their initial meeting. “I heard winters up north are cold and free Canada is nothing but a wilderness, but I ain’t takin’ a chance of ending up where they beat folks. Most plantations ain’t run like this one.” Annabelle had locked eyes with Emily. “I have someone worth living for…even if it means dying. Gabriel is gonna grow up free.” She hugged the boy to her heart, and at that moment her destiny with Emily had been decided.

  “Annabelle?” Emily lifted the lid and peered into the compartment when they reached the barn refuge just before dark. “It’s safe to come out.”

  The thin, tall woman clutching her precious baby slowly unfolded her stiff spine. But she made no complaint about riding in a confining box. She climbed down on shaky legs and looked around like a scared rabbit. “Where we at?”

  “We are outside of Berryville. We brought plenty of food. We’ll eat and then sleep in the loft. But we’ll build no fire—it could attract attention. We’ll start for Martinsburg at first light.”

  Annabelle nodded. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Please call me Emily.”

  “No, ma’am. I won’t.” Her discomfort ratcheted up a notch.

  Lila stepped forward. “My mother sent a bag of nappies for your boy. Tomorrow we’ll arrive at the Bennington house in Martinsburg. We have supplies to pack up there, but when it gets dark we’ll take you to a spot on the Potomac River. Quakers will take you across into Maryland, but you won’t be alone. Other Quakers will take you up the Conococheague River into Pennsylvania—a free state.”

  Emily pulled a map from her valise. “Once you are in Pennsylvania, follow this to a safe house in Chambersburg. A Presbyterian couple will shelter you and give directions for the next leg of the journey.” She pressed the paper into Annabelle’s hand. “Travel at night and follow the North Star if the night is clear. Remember, the handle of the drinking gourd points to it. Sleep during the day, because the rivers are patrolled by slave-catchers. If you need help, approach the Methodist or Presbyterian parson or a Quaker. Don’t trust anyone else, Annabelle. These are hard times. Folks receive a fat bounty for turning in runaways.”

  As they stood in the fading light, Annabelle studied the map and traced the route with her finger. “I know what’s at stake, but why you doin’ this—helping slaves you don’t even know?”

  “Because I was raised Quaker.” Emily knew this wasn’t the time to wax poetic about her religious upbringing.

  “This is the only chance you and your son will get.” Lila added practical advice as she and Emily unpacked the buggy. Jack unhitched the team and tied them to the water trough. Carrying the water canteens, Emily led the group into the barn where clean straw bales lay everywhere.

  “You free?” asked Annabelle of Lila. She stared at Lila’s fashionable clothing suspiciously.

  “I am. My father purchased my freedom and my mother’s when I was little.” Once inside, Lila pulled sandwiches from the hamper and passed them around.

  “I never saw black folks wearin’ clothes like that.” She pointed a disdainful finger at Lila’s outfit.

  “I am a maid for two young women. Because they never wear outfits longer than one season, they give their old clothes to me.” Lila passed around fruit and sweet breads from the hamper.

  Annabelle’s eyes nearly bugged from her head. “They wear clothes less than a year and don’t want them no more?” Following Lila’s nod, she asked, “They the ones who taught you to talk so fancy?”

  “They are.” Lila bit daintily into an apple.

  “Doesn’t that just beat all—your pap havin’ enough money to buy folks and you dressin’ like you got someplace to g
o.” Annabelle laughed and then settled on a hay bale to nurse her son, turning her back discretely on the others.

  Later, while the baby slept soundly in Annabelle’s arms, the four exchanged stories, their tales bridging the gap between people from very diverse backgrounds. Although Emily had little in common with them, she shared a few of her own joys and sorrows. Then they packed up the leftovers and went to sleep, filled with hope for the future.

  As the travelers slept soundly on the soft straw matting, outside someone spent a fitful night watching the barn. William had followed them to learn why Miss Harrison dismissed him in favor of Jack. Alexander had given him emphatic orders to keep an eye on Miss Harrison and protect her in his absence. Scalawags and deserters from both armies roved the area, foraging and pilfering. Now William wondered if there had been another reason for the request. Did Alexander suspect the governess of something? Tonight William wished he hadn’t followed the buggy. He had no reason to be untrustworthy to the Hunts. Despite their bantering, Alexander paid him a very good salary, allowing him to purchase the freedom of his siblings.

  Besides, Alexander had been his friend since they were small boys climbing trees and getting into mischief. Alexander trusted him and treated him with respect, plain and simple. William had grown uneasy when the buggy turned off the pike to Martinsburg toward the east. It didn’t take long to figure out where they were headed. Alexander had told him the story about stumbling upon Miss Harrison at an abandoned barn and leaping down from the hayloft door. Then she had ridden off in a dither with her frilly bloomers showing. The two men had laughed over the woman’s bizarre antics.

  Because he knew the Yankee was up to something, William wasn’t surprised when a woman and child climbed from the compartment behind the front seat. It also didn’t surprise him who the woman was. Annabelle had been dismally unhappy at Hunt Farms since her husband died. Although he wanted to see Annabelle and her son free, he didn’t like Miss Harrison deceiving the Hunts to obtain that freedom. He knew Alexander grew fonder of the governess each day. William contemplated his own deception if he returned and said nothing.