The tears she had held back all day began to flow. She wanted so badly to be with him this way forever. But her parents had wanted to be together, too. And her story would surely end the same way that theirs had. Kitty had seen the armed Rebel soldiers today. There were thousands of them. The slaves would surely be recaptured. She wept, overwhelmed with fear for Grady.
“Shh … it’s okay … it’s okay,” Grady murmured. His strong arms tightened around her as if he sensed her fear. She felt safe in his arms. But she had felt safe in her papa’s strong arms, too. The men who had chased Papa had been stronger. They’d carried guns. Papa hadn’t been strong enough to save her.
Then Grady started kissing her, his lips brushing her neck, her cheeks, her forehead. His lips found hers, and she forgot everything else but this moment and the overpowering love that she felt for him. Nothing, no one, could ever separate them.
“I love you, Anna,” he whispered. “I want to sleep with you tonight. Not because Missy wants us to, but because we want to.”
Kitty allowed him to lead her to the bed. Then he stopped, gazing down at her in the moonlight, waiting for her answer. His hands felt warm as they caressed her back, her shoulders, her face.
“We’re married, Anna. I belong to you. But only if this is what you want …”
She could scarcely breathe. “I do want it,” she whispered. She pulled him close, returning his kisses with her own. She trembled and didn’t know why.
“Don’t be scared,” he said. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”
Time and space seemed to vanish as Kitty lost herself in Grady’s love. Delia had told her that married love was a gift from God, and tonight Kitty wept with the sheer joy of it. She reveled in the safety and warmth of his arms, awestruck by the wonder of belonging to each other alone. Grady had allowed himself to be vulnerable with her, and she with him. The scars on his bare back were hers alone to soothe and caress.
All her life she’d been Missy Claire’s possession, but on this glorious night she belonged to Grady, the man she loved, and he belonged to her. She lay content in the warmth of his arms as the moon slowly crawled across the sky and sank below the horizon.
“I want to be with you this way forever,” Grady whispered. “Every night … the way we are right now.”
She wept and kissed him again, certain that he would stay with her now, to take care of her, protect her. It stunned her when he said, “Run away with me tonight. Please, Anna.”
Her heart pounded with terror at his words. She clung to him tightly, unable to voice her fears. In the midnight stillness, she heard an owl calling.
“That’s the signal,” Grady said. “The moon has set. Come on, the others are ready to go.” He climbed out of bed and began to dress. She watched him but she was unable to move, her limbs paralyzed with fear. She couldn’t seem to breathe.
Anna remembered her parents and the nightmare returned—not as a worn and faded dream this time, but as a living memory, vivid with color and sound. She felt her family’s fear as they slogged through the eerie swamps, heard the sound of horses and dogs splashing through the water behind them, gaining on them. Her papa’s breath had come in ragged gulps as he ran and ran with Anna in his arms. She saw the terror on her parents’ faces when they were captured.
Anna had always forgotten the end of the dream—until now. Now she saw each blow of the whip across her parents’ backs and heard their tortured screams. She relived all of it, all the way to the end, and heard her mama screaming her name as the men dragged her away. She saw Papa’s body dangling from the Great Oak Tree, his face a deep, violent purple.
“No …” she whispered. “Grady, no!”
He returned to the bedside and took her face in his hands, covering it with kisses. “Come on, Anna. Please, we have to hurry.”
She gripped his arms in desperation, clinging so tightly she saw him wince. “Stay here with me! If you love me, stay here! Where it’s safe!”
“I do love you. But we can be free.” He gently pried her hands loose and began picking up her clothes, handing them to her one by one. “Trust me, Anna. Everything will be all right.”
“How do you know that? How do you know we won’t be caught and whipped and tortured?” She couldn’t catch her breath. She felt as if she’d been running and running, just as her parents had.
“Anna, I
have
to go. I’ve waited all my life for this chance.
Please come with me.”
He began to dress her as if she was a child, slipping her frock over her head and patiently buttoning each button. The voice was Grady’s, but he was a stranger to her, dressed in a starched white shirt and a dark vest and suit coat. Why was he wearing white men’s clothes? He looked every inch an elegant gentleman, not a slave. She loved him, longed for him. But her fear was greater.
“Don’t go, Grady! Please don’t go! I don’t want to lose you! I don’t want you to die!”
“I won’t die. We’ll be free. Come with me Anna,
please
!” His dark eyes filled with tears. “Here’s your shoes. Hurry, put them on.”
She shook her head, clutching the shoes to her chest.
“Anna, I’m begging you! Come on!”
He bent to lift her into his arms and carry her, but the thought of being taken against her will made her hysterical. “No, no, no!”
He quickly put her down and backed away, covering her mouth with his hand. “Okay, okay … shh … shh …” Her mama had urged her to be quiet the same way as they’d crept through the swamp.
Outside, the owl hooted again, signaling to Grady. Anna sensed his urgency, his despair. He went to the door and gazed out, then turned back, his eyes pleading with her, his face wet with tears.
“Anna,
please
!”
She shook her head.
Grady wiped his eyes with his fist and drew a deep breath. “Good-bye, then,” he said.
And he ran out into the night.
Kitty couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t breathe normally for a very long time. The night was quiet except for the soft rustling of tree branches in the wind. There were no baying dogs, no pounding hooves, no gunshots echoing through the swamps. But Kitty couldn’t move from the bed.
She gazed down at the cornshuck mattress where Grady had lain beside her. She saw the dented imprint of his body.
But Grady was gone.
H
as God forgotten to be merciful? Has he in anger
withheld his compassion? Then I thought, “To this I will
appeal … I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I
\will remember your miracles of long ago.”
Psalm 77:9–11
NIV
Fuller Plantation, South Carolina
November 1862
Kitty lay awake in the empty cabin for the rest of the night, too distraught to sleep. Any moment now, she would hear the tramp of marching feet, the sounds of gunfire. The Rebel soldiers would capture Grady and the others and haul them into the plantation yard in shackles. She would have to watch the overseer flog her husband to punish him for escaping.
As the room grew light, Kitty could no longer bear waiting. She put on her shoes and walked across the backyard to the Big House, passing the loaded wagon still parked outside the door. She had forgotten that she and Missy were fleeing today, too.
Upstairs in the nursery, Delia walked the floor with the baby. She halted midstep when she saw Kitty and gaped at her in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to help you with the baby. Missy said we have to leave real early, and I thought—” She stopped when Delia lowered her head and began to weep. The little woman sank down on the bedroom chair as if she was very old, still cradling the baby. Tears leaked from behind her closed eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Kitty asked.
Delia finally looked up. “Is Grady gone?”
“Yes. He ran off with all the others last night.”
“And you didn’t go with him?”
Kitty shook her head. “No, I—”
“O Lord, honey … why not?”
Delia’s grief confused Kitty. She struggled for a way to explain her fear to Delia, but before she could utter a word, Missy burst into the room.
“Kitty! Get in here and help me get dressed. Delia, get the baby ready to go. Where’s the wet nurse? Tell her to hurry up and feed Richard so we can leave.”
Kitty and Delia looked at each other. The mat where the nurse slept was empty. She must have escaped with all the others. “S-she ain’t here, Missy. Want me to go look for her?” Kitty asked.
“No, I want you to help me get dressed. Delia, put the baby down and you go look for her. And send someone up to the house to harness the mules to the wagon.”
Kitty knew that there was no one to do it. Grady and all the others were gone. But before either Delia or Kitty could move, someone pounded on the front door downstairs. Kitty’s heart hammered with fear at the sound. They waited for Lewis to answer it, but he must have run off as well.
“Where’s Lewis?” Missy asked. “Go and see who’s at the door, Kitty.”
She ran downstairs and opened it to find Mr. Browning, the white overseer. He studied Kitty in silence for a long moment, then looked up and saw Missy standing at the top of the stairs.
“They’re gone, ma’am,” he said. His voice shook with anger. “The slaves have all run off.”
“What … what do you mean?” she asked as she slowly descended the stairs. Delia followed her down.
“I blew the horn to start the workday, just like always, but nobody came. When I checked the cabins, there wasn’t anybody left except a few old-timers. The rest of your field slaves have all run off.”
“What about my house servants? Where’s the baby’s nurse? And my butler? And … and my coachman? Who’s going to drive me to Great Oak Plantation?”
“I’m afraid they’re all gone, ma’am. Your driver ran off with all the others.”
Missy whirled to face Kitty. “But he’s your husband! Did you know he was going to run away? Why didn’t you warn me?”
Kitty didn’t know what to say. She was afraid to speak for fear she would make Missy even angrier—or worse, betray Grady. And she didn’t want to make a mistake and say something that would help Missy and Mr. Browning find the runaways and bring them back. But before she could figure out what to say, Delia spoke.
“Don’t blame her, ma’am. Kitty and her husband ain’t been living together since you sent him down to Slave Row. How’s she supposed to know where he’s at or what he’s up to? I never heard Lewis or Patsy say a single word about running off, and I been working with them every day.”
“What are we going to do?” Missy asked Mr. Browning.
“If it’s okay with you, ma’am, I’m going to load my rifle and start tracking them. I’ll see if I can round up some help from a couple of neighboring plantations and borrow their dogs. Our soldiers aren’t far from here. They’re expecting a battle near Pocotaligo, but they can be on the lookout for the runaways, too. We’ll catch them all, ma’am. Don’t worry.”
Kitty felt faint with fear at his words.
“I’m going to my father’s plantation today,” Missy said. “Would you kindly hitch the mules to my wagon for me before you start the search? And find someone to drive it. I want to leave immediately.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
By the time Kitty fixed Missy’s hair and helped her get dressed, she barely had enough time to run down to her own cabin and grab a few belongings. They had filled the wagon to overflowing with Missy Claire’s things, and there wasn’t much room to spare, but Kitty made sure that she packed a picture of Grady. It was the one she’d drawn a long time ago, on the first day they met.
On her way out of the cabin, she saw the bed that they’d slept in, the covers still rumpled from their one night together. Kitty could no longer stop her tears from falling, nor did she care if Missy Claire saw them. She was leaving. Grady wouldn’t know where to find her again, nor she him. Once she reached Great Oak Plantation, she might not hear news of the runaways for a very long time—if ever.
Back at the Big House, Missy was frantic, barking so many commands that Kitty couldn’t keep track of them all. She helped Delia climb onto the wagon, then ran upstairs and brought the baby down for her to hold. The overseer had harnessed the mule team and ordered an elderly slave who had been too old to flee, to drive. He stood beside the wagon with his wife, clutching a bundle of their belongings and waiting for someone to help them climb aboard.
“That old woman stays here,” Missy Claire said, pointing to the old man’s wife. “There isn’t enough room on the wagon for both of you.”
“Please, I can make room,” Kitty begged. “I’ll leave my bag—”
“I said no!”
Kitty hated Missy at that moment. Grady had been right about her—and about all white people. They never cared how many families they tore apart this way, how many times slaves had to say good-bye to the people they loved. If only Kitty could have convinced Grady to stay with her last night, instead of running headlong into danger. If only they could be together forever. Now it was too late.
She saw the old couple’s love for each other as they embraced and kissed each other good-bye. Then Mr. Browning helped the husband climb up on the driver’s seat. Kitty looked back as they drove away and saw the man’s wife standing where he had left her on the side of the road. She was still there when the wagon finally rounded a curve and Kitty lost sight of her.
By the time the sky grew light, Grady figured he and the other slaves had walked a good long distance from the plantation. The harvested wheat and rice fields had given way to marshy woods, then swamps. Cold water had seeped into his tattered shoes until his toes were so icy he could barely feel them. Massa Fuller’s suit coat was warmer than Grady’s homespun shirt would have been, but the other slaves weren’t dressed as warmly as he was. Grady worried about the women and children.
As planned, the slaves had divided into several groups, each heading in a different direction to confuse any dogs that might be tracking them. Grady traveled with twenty-two others—nine men, six women and seven children. He had helped carry a little girl on his back, for much of the night, thinking of Anna and the story of her parents’ failed attempt to escape.