Authors: Renee Miller
Traipsing through the swamp didn’t improve Henri’s mood. Rowan smiled as he became irritable and hostile, muttering curses he walked ahead of them, swatting at flies and mosquitoes. When the sun began to set—its amber glow swelling the red horizon and mesmerizing Rowan with its beauty—a stream of profanity spilled from his usually pretty lips.
“I told you we should wait,” he said. “No, you had to leave right away. I’m sure Lucien will love to hear that we’ve been eaten by some beast out here.”
She smiled up at him. “We are nearly out of the swamp. The ground is dry. What are you complaining about?”
“The house is still a distance from here.” He waved at the field before them. “Can you see it?”
“No.”
“My point exactly. We might be out of the stinking swamp but we’re a good hour away from rest. Do you know how large a tobacco field is? It’s huge, acres and acres of land. One cannot cover the entire thing in one day.”
“Rest? It’s barely dusk and you’re tired? What did the two of you do last night that would cause you to feel so fatigued?”
He looked away from her. “We were looking for refuge, nothing more. I swear, for someone who claims to hate the life of a whore, you certainly think like one.”
Rowan smiled and glanced at Justine. The younger girl averted her gaze and blushed. Rowan felt a tightening in her chest she couldn’t identify. She wanted to tear the girl’s eyes out, but didn’t understand why. Surely, she wasn’t jealous.
“Stupid,” she murmured.
“What?” Justine asked.
Rowan looked up. “Nothing. Just thinking out loud.”
Justine gave a little shrug. “We’ll be okay. Henri is just worried about you. He knows we had to move, but he thinks you’re being a little impulsive.”
“Don’t tell me what Henri thinks. I’ve him for most of my life, and I know how he thinks better than he does.” She couldn’t keep the venom from her voice and tried to soften it with a smile. “He’s spoiled, and that’s the biggest problem. I should have never allowed him to get involved.”
Justine stared at her for a moment before looking ahead at Henri’s back. Whatever she thought, she kept it to herself. Rowan was relieved. She had no interest in the girl’s observations. None of which at this point had any intelligence behind them anyway. If not for Rowan, she’d still be on her knees at Rosaline’s.
At some point, Rowan knew she’d have to leave them behind. For now, no matter how much she disliked Henri, he was all she had left of her life before everything went so wrong. She felt a need to hold on to that link to better days for a while longer.
They walked in silence. Now and then Henri would mutter to himself, but required no response. It wasn’t long before the air changed becoming warm and dry. The clear sky above grew cloudy with black fog.
Alarm bells rang in Rowan’s head. “Is that smoke?”
“Damn him,” Henri cursed. “Damn the whole lot of them to Hell.”
Far across the field, there was an orange glow and above it, plumes of black smoke danced in the air.
“Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.”
“What the hell do you want me to tell you?” Henri fell to his knees; shoulders slumped as he gazed at the burning house.
“I told you he would know,” Rowan began but stopped. Gloating wouldn’t help matters. He would become angry and sulky, which wouldn’t provide a solution to the problem. “We’ll just have to stay here until morning, and then we’ll move back to the swamp.”
Henri turned to gape at her. “Go back? Are you insane?”
“Why? It’s the only place he hasn’t looked for us.”
“He knows we were there somewhere and now he’s trying to keep us there.” Henri shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “We can’t go back. It’s just a matter of time before we’re discovered, but we can’t sleep here, Rowan. We don’t know what’s out here.”
“We’re in an old field. There’s nothing to fear but a few bugs and the hard ground.”
“I don’t care, we aren’t staying outside. I’ve gone along with your plan and look where it has gotten us.” Henri looked around, as though he might see an answer in the acres of weeds and dead tobacco plants.
“This wasn’t my plan. I would rather have stayed in the swamp where I had the advantage of knowing the terrain like the back of my hand. You wanted to leave, rich boy. We left. Now we’ll have to suck it up and deal with a bit of discomfort.”
“This is not the time to fight.” Justine intervened, placing a hand on Rowan’s arm. “We need to stick together.”
Rowan touched her belly and considered her options. She could leave them and return to Mama Gator’s, but Henri did have a point. Lucien would have his men scour the swamps until they found her. There would come a day when she’d leave the hidden shack at the wrong time and they’d be waiting. She wouldn’t be able to hide there forever, but she wasn’t about to wait for Henri to come up with something. He was good at panicking and little else. Even now, as he watched the flames eat his inheritance, she didn’t believe he was looking for a solution. No, Henri was probably feeling sorry for himself.
What was she to do?
Go to your people.
The voice in her head again. Rowan was growing used to its whisper. So far, it’d proven useful. Her people. It made perfect sense. Lucien would never go there; he probably didn’t even know it existed. Very few white people did.
“We have to go back into the swamp,” she said. “I know where we can go.”
Henri turned and frowned. “I said I’m not going into the swamp again. We’ll go into town.”
“Why would we go to town?”
“It’s the best option. We’re not prepared to rough it like this.”
“Shall we visit the saloon when we get there? Would you care for a drink and then a rope around your neck?”
“Stop being a brat,” Henri scowled. “We’ll go to the old section. Your so-called people live there. I’m sure someone will help us.”
Rowan laughed. It didn’t bother her when the voice suggested she go to her people, but when Henri spoke the words, it sounded callous, judgmental. If she was honest, Rowan didn’t know which people were hers, and Henri certainly didn’t either.
She was a Dumas, but her golden skin betrayed her slave ancestry. She wasn’t white enough to enjoy the privileges of the Dumas family, nor dark enough to be accepted among her mother’s people. Rowan didn’t have people.
“I would think your people would love to put one over on a Dumas,” Henri continued.
“I don’t belong with them.”
“They’ll let you in; your mother is one of theirs. I’m sure none of them have fond regard for Lucien.”
“He’s right. They’ll hide you,” Justine added.
Rowan raised an eyebrow. “And the two of you? You think they would hide you, Henri? You probably own a few of their family members. You believe they would hide me if I’m traveling with you?”
Henri flushed. “I have a loyal servant, not a slave. He lives in his own home with his family and he is free to leave my employ and my property if he wishes to go. He will help me.”
“He can’t go anywhere, Henri. The minute he steps off your property, someone will claim him. None of them is truly free and you can bet he doesn’t love you for your kindness. The illusion of freedom is almost worse.”
“We grew up together, almost like brothers. I know he won’t turn his back on us.”
“You know very little then.” Rowan closed her eyes, considering her options once more. It would be simpler humor him than to argue the point. Then he’d see the reality. If they made it out of town before Lucien found them, they’d travel back here and follow her plan. “Fine, we will do as you wish. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“There is no need. I know my plan is the safest.”
Justine cleared her throat. “How will we stay hidden? I mean, it’s not like we can go in the back way. We must use the road at some point.”
Henri appeared to ponder this for a moment, and smiled. “There’s a way, don’t worry. We will stay away from the road and go in behind the plantations.”
Rowan didn’t reply. She followed Henri away from his burning home.
***
They bordered the plantations for a long time, Rowan’s gaze on Henri’s back until something caught her eye. The hair on her neck rose.
“Henri, I’m afraid he may have outsmarted us again,” she said.
“Impossible,” Henri cried, but the flames climbing over the trees and into the sky said differently.
They three stood in the shadows, watching as the fire grew and spread across the streets beyond them. People stood huddled together, watching the flames eat up Laurel Street, and then make their way to First and Second Streets. There had been no rain in some time, and the dry old shacks went up like paper.
“This cannot be Lucien’s work. Even he is not so reckless.” Henri rubbed his eyes again.
They walked closer to the road. Just outside the settlement, they heard cries echoing into the night. People were trapped, the flames devouring them along with their homes. The acrid smell of the burning timber and garbage drifted up Rowan’s nostrils. She coughed as a gust of wind brought smoke toward them, filling her lungs.
“We have to go,” she sputtered and covered her face. “It’s coming toward us.”
Justine backed away with Rowan. “Why is no one trying to help them?”
“I’m sure help is on the way,” Henri said.
He watched, unmoving, as the flames ate up the small wood frame shacks that lined the street. Dry brush along the road and even dryer conditions within the homes fanned the fire, to monstrous proportions.
“Henri,” Rowan cried. “We must go, now!” The heat was overpowering, and made her stomach lurch.
Henri turned and walked away from the town, back toward the plantations they had just managed to sneak through. They had nowhere to go and Rowan read the defeat in his slumped shoulders and furrowed brow. He was giving up.
Rowan had to run to catch up to him. “I still have a plan. Don’t you want to know what it is?”
He waved her away. “It doesn’t matter. Don’t you see,
cherie
? It’s hopeless. We’re fools to think we can outsmart Lucien. He’s too powerful. Even Fate is against us.”
“No, it’s not.” Rowan grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop. His eyes were empty, his mouth grim. “There is a secret settlement, along the swamp far behind the mansions and the fields. We can go there. I know we all will be welcomed.”
“There is nothing but swamp out there. Don’t you think we would know of a settlement? Lucien would know if no one else did.”
“No, he doesn’t. Mama Gator took me there once, although I had to wait in the boat. She often treated the sick and brought supplies to them. Many slaves go there when they’ve been mistreated. They will hide us.”
“If this is such a great place to hide, why did you not think of it before?”
“I don’t know, but they’re good people. Why won’t you just trust me? You have no options at the moment.”
Henri stared at the trees beyond; closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Very well, since I have no options, let’s do it your way.”
“We’ll need a boat. Is there one at your plantation?”
“If it is not ashes by now, there’s one near the creek out back. Used by the old slaves according to my uncle. He said they liked to go out into the swamp now and then, some of them were allowed to have homes there, rather than on the plantation.”
“Perfect.” Rowan smiled.
Justine was silent.
Rowan turned. “Are you okay?”
The girl’s chin trembled. “All those people....”
Rowan wanted to shake her. Those people didn’t matter anymore. They were dead if they were lucky. The section that burned was full of slaves and the poorest families. They had nothing and were nothing. The girl needed to get a stronger resolve if she hoped to survive.
“Those people are not our concern. We need to hide. It’s terrible, sad, and awful. I agree, but we cannot worry about their fate when our own is at risk.”
Justine and Henri followed Rowan. More than an hour later, legs aching with exhaustion, and spirits low, they crept around the back of the smoking house. The flames were smaller now, smoldering in small sections of the blackened shell.
“Not a word,” Rowan warned. “We don’t know who could be waiting for us.”
Justine’s eyes widened but she remained silent. They crept through the fields, careful to remain out of sight. Coming up to the banks of the creek, Rowan spied the boat. The old pirogue didn’t look seaworthy, it’s battered body chipped and gouged in many spots.
“Does it float?” she whispered.
“How should I know?” Henri grumbled.
Rowan shrugged.
They pushed the craft into the water. Henri helped them into it, and grabbed the long pole lying inside.
“Looks fine,” he said. “So far.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t decide to spring a leak near the gators.” Rowan smiled as her statement elicited a cry from Justine. The girl sat in the front, stiff and jumping to every sound the water made.
“Don’t worry Justine. You’re too skinny for the gators. They’ll go after Henri first, giving us a chance to escape.”