All Things New (32 page)

She looked up at him, wishing she could beg him to go with her.
Tears choked her throat. Otis reached out and tentatively laid his hand on her head, then closed his eyes. “Oh, Lord, please watch out for Missy Josephine and guide her the rest of the way. Help her to get there before them men do. And, Lord, please keep Mr. Chandler safe. Amen.” He opened his eyes again and removed his hand. “You’ll be fine, Missy Jo. The good Lord will be watching over you.”

“Thank you, Otis.” She gripped the fabric of her skirt in her fists, lifting her hem so she wouldn’t trip, and took off as fast as she could run in the dark, careful to keep her eyes on the trail. She hadn’t run far when a sharp pain knifed her side, but she ignored it and kept running. The horses could cover the distance into Fairmont much faster than she could, even with Otis’s shortcut.

By the time Josephine finally spotted the railroad embankment she could barely breathe. She stumbled up the gravel rise and turned toward town, following the tracks. Otis hadn’t said how far she would have to follow the tracks, but at last she rounded a curve and saw the church steeple and houses silhouetted in the distance, including the long, low roof of the train station. Behind it was a small, two-story brick building, its back room damaged by fire.

Josephine slid down the embankment into the ditch beside the tracks and paused for a moment, panting for breath. She listened, like Otis had, for the sound of horses as she emptied the gravel out of her shoes. It was hard to hear anything at all above the pounding of her heart and her labored breaths. She waited until she was certain there was no sign of her brother and the others, then stood and sprinted across the open space to the Freedmen’s Bureau office. The fire damage made it impossible for Alexander to lock the back door, so she hurried inside, dodging around the burned debris. Daniel could get inside just as easily.

She groped her way down a narrow hallway, not waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, and came to a set of steps that led upstairs. “Alexander!” she called up to him. “Alexander, wake up!” She was so breathless, so frightened, that she could hardly get the words out. She pounded on the hollow wall of the
stairwell, praying he would hear her. Her brother and the others could likely hear her, too, if they were outside, but at least Alexander could defend himself once he was awake. “Alexander! Please, wake up!”

Had the men beat her here? Was he already dead? She started up the steps, pounding on the wall with both fists, calling his name. She finally heard thumps and rustling noises above her, then a voice: “Who’s there?”

She collapsed onto a stair with relief. “Alexander, it’s me—Josephine. You have to get up! It’s an emergency!” He came to the top of the steps looking sleep-tousled. He had pulled on his pants but wore no shoes or shirt.

“Josephine! What are you doing here? What’s wrong?”

“They’re coming to kill you! You have to get out! Right now!”

“What? . . . Who’s coming?” He looked half asleep, and she could tell that her words weren’t making sense to him.

“I don’t have time to explain. Grab your gun and your shoes and get out!”

“I don’t have a gun. Let me light a lamp—”

“No!” she cried out as he turned to go back in his bedroom. “No lights! You have to leave! Now!” He stared at her in sleepy confusion, and in the momentary silence Josephine thought she heard a horse whinny. She plunged up the stairs and grabbed his arm, pulling him toward her. “Please, Alexander! They’re coming to kill you and burn down your office. They’re on their way. They’ll be here any minute. You have to run! Before it’s too late!” The tears she had been holding back all this time began to fall.

He stared at her as if finally comprehending her words. “Okay, okay . . . Let me get my boots . . .” He ran into his room, and she heard him rummaging around.

Please, dear God. Please give us just a few more minutes to get away.

He returned a moment later with his boots on. He was shoving his arms into his shirt. “What’s going on, Josephine?”

“There isn’t time to explain. We have to get out . . . No, no, the
front. Use the front door.” She was certain she had heard another horse whinny out back.

He led the way into his office, then stopped for a moment to look around. “There are some files I should save—”

“There isn’t time!”

“But the schoolbooks. I won’t let them burn again.” He picked up a wooden crate and dumped its contents onto the floor, then scooped up a stack of books piled on his desk and dropped them into the crate. Josephine pitched in, grabbing a second stack of books.

“Now, please, Alexander! Go!” She ran to the door ahead of him and opened it a crack to peer out, fighting the instinct to bolt out of the office as fast as she could run. The dirt road in front of the building looked deserted. So did the main street in front of the train station. Josephine spotted an alcove behind the station, where a baggage wagon was parked, and pointed to it. “Over there! We can hide there. Now run!”

She plunged out into the darkness, lifting her skirts, trying not to trip over her leaden feet. She felt like she was in a nightmare, trying to run and not being able to move. Alexander was behind her and moving even slower, burdened down with the heavy crate of books. A dog began to bark nearby, sending up an alarm, but at last they reached the alcove and sank into the shadows beneath the baggage wagon, breathing hard.

“Josephine, what in the world—”

“Shh!”

Two men had come around from the rear of the Freedmen’s Bureau in the dark, crouching low. They went up to the door that she and Alexander had just fled through—the door they had foolishly left wide open—and looked all around. “If they find you, they’ll kill you,” she whispered.

She wondered how he felt to know he was being stalked, to know his enemies were trying to murder him. He had come to work for the Freedmen’s Bureau, believing he was obeying Jesus’s command to love his enemies. Was he questioning his faith at this moment?
Alexander refused to carry a gun or defend himself—did he regret that decision, too?

Josephine reached for his hand and gripped it tightly as two more figures appeared in the open doorway. They must have searched the house and found it empty. All four men stood still for a moment, studying the deserted rail yard. “We can’t stay here,” Josephine whispered. “They’ll search the rail yard.”

“Where can we hide?”

She hesitated for a moment, then said, “The church. Or the cemetery behind it if the door’s locked.” They left the box of books behind and crawled through the bushes surrounding the building until they were out of sight of the office. Two more dogs began to bark, giving them away as they ran the short distance to the church, trying to stay hidden behind trees and bushes and fences, stumbling, praying, holding hands as they ran.

“Not the front door,” Josephine whispered. “There’s a side door that leads to the vestry.”
Please let it be unlocked
, she silently prayed.
Please keep us safe.

The door was unlocked. Josephine exhaled in relief and felt a sliver of hope. God had answered all her prayers, so far. He had been with her, helping her, helping them. She closed the door behind them and stood still for a moment, catching her breath. Their eyes met, and in the next moment she was in his arms and they were holding each other tightly.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I don’t know how or why you came for me, but thank you.”

His arms were around her. Alexander was safe now, and so was she. Josephine closed her eyes, longing to stay here with him forever. But she could still hear dogs barking a warning in the sleeping village, so she slipped out of his arms and tugged his hand again. “Come on. We still should hide.” She led him into the sanctuary, and they sank down together behind one of the pews in the choir loft, hidden from view.

“How did you know they were coming for me?” he asked. “Who are these men?”

“My brother is one of them. I couldn’t sleep and I accidentally overheard him and the others plotting. They know that you’re investigating the arson and the murders, and they’re the ones who are responsible. They decided to kill you and destroy all your evidence.”

“But you . . . you came all this way alone? In the dark?”

“Otis came with me part of the way. I prayed and asked God to get me here on time, to get you out of there on time, and He answered my prayer.”

“Wait. You mean . . . you . . . you prayed?” Josephine nodded, as amazed as Alexander was. He took her in his arms again and held her.

“I love you, Josephine. Not just tonight or because you saved me, but . . . I’ve loved you all along.”

He pulled back, and they looked at each other in the darkness. Josephine remembered the overwhelming emptiness she had felt after Daniel took her letters and she was cut off from Alexander forever. She remembered her terrible fear as she’d raced here to save him and the certainty she’d felt in her heart that she loved him.

“I love you, too,” she whispered.

He cradled her face in his hands, smoothing her damp hair from her cheeks. Then Alexander leaned toward her and kissed her. His kiss was tender and beautiful, and she put her arms around him and kissed him in return. She thought her heart would burst from the wonderful, terrible mixture of love and sorrow. Her love for him was impossible. She loved him, wanted him, but she could never have him. When the kiss ended and he finally pulled away, she rested her head on his chest, and they held each other tightly.

“Remember in my letter,” he murmured, “how I said that you should marry a man you loved? I meant me.”

“I know . . . I know . . . but it’s impossible. My family would never allow it. My brother is trying to kill you.”

“We could run away together and get married. I’ll take you home with me, and we could start a new life together, away from all of this.”

Could she leave her home, her family? Josephine was still angry
with Daniel and Mary and didn’t know if she could ever trust them again. And Mother would persist with her matchmaking plans until Jo ended up married to Harrison Blake. Mother was strong and would have her way—she always did. But could Jo really run away from her family and White Oak and never look back? If not, could she bear to stay here and live the life that would be forced upon her? To live without Alexander?

“Come away with me, Josephine.”

“I-I can’t. It would hurt too many people if I just disappeared. My family has suffered enough, endured too much. I can’t add to it.”

“What if I found a way to ask for your hand?”

“That’s impossible. They hate you.”

“But what if I found a way to make peace with them, and I asked for your hand, and we left here with their blessing—would you marry me then?”

“Of course, but . . . it can’t possibly happen. They’ll never make peace with you, much less give us their blessing.”

He leaned forward and kissed her again. “I’ll find a way. Trust me, Josephine. And trust God.”

He stood and reached for her hands, pulling her to her feet. Her legs felt stiff from their cramped position, her muscles tired from running. “Wait. Shouldn’t we stay hidden a while longer? What if they’re still searching for you?” He was leading her out of the sanctuary and back through the vestry. “Where are we going?”

“I’m going to make sure you get home safely.”

“No, wait!” She stood in front of the door, barring it before he had a chance to open it. “I can get home by myself, but you can’t risk being seen. It’s still too dangerous.”

“I won’t leave you, Josephine. I need to make sure you’re safe.” He reached to stroke her hair, her cheek.

“God got me here safely tonight. You can trust Him to get me home again.” Josephine knew then what she needed to do. She took his hand and kissed his fingers before letting it go. “Where’s your horse?”

“In the livery stable.”

“Ride to Richmond—as fast as you can. Don’t come back unless you have a squad of soldiers with you. Armed soldiers. If you return without protection, these men will kill you. They won’t fail the next time.”

“But you—”

“I’m going to create a distraction.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him one last time, cutting off his protests. As she did, she reached behind her and opened the door. “Good-bye, Alexander.”

“No, wait—!”

But Josephine was already running before he could stop her, racing to reach the alarm bell across the village square from the church. Behind her, the night sky above the train station was lit up by the orange glow of flames, the hot air filling with smoke. She grabbed the bell rope and pulled as hard as she could, letting it ring and ring to awaken the town. The fire was probably too far gone to save the building, but Alexander could get to his horse during the commotion and ride away.

She saw lights going on in several houses as she kept ringing the bell. Dogs barked and howled. Men began to emerge from their homes, struggling into their clothes, looking all around for the fire. Josephine heard shouts, running feet, but continued to ring the bell. None of the townspeople would care if the Freedmen’s Bureau burned to the ground, but they wouldn’t let the nearby train station burn.

Her arm was growing tired, and she stopped ringing for a moment to rest. In the momentary quiet she heard a horse galloping somewhere in the darkness and prayed it was Alexander making his escape. But the sound of hoofbeats was coming closer, and as she squinted in the gloom she saw a dark horse and a masked rider racing straight toward her. She let go of the bell rope and turned to run, sprinting in the opposite direction of the livery stable. Where could she go? Where could she hide? Dr. Hunter’s house was nearby. She would run to him and beg for his help. But the horse easily caught up with her before she could get there.

“Josephine! Josephine, stop!” She recognized Daniel’s voice, even muffled by the mask.

She kept running, desperate to reach safety. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Daniel had dismounted and was running after her. Her bulky skirt slowed her down, and he quickly caught up to her, grabbing her. “Let me go!” she shouted. “Leave me alone!”