Midnight Rescue (22 page)

Read Midnight Rescue Online

Authors: Lois Walfrid Johnson

Several miles down the road, the horses rounded a sharp bend. Just ahead, a midsized tree lay across the road.

“Uh-oh!” Caleb pulled back on the reins.

As their wagon rolled to a stop, two men leaped out, one from either side of the road.

Then Libby saw it—the glint of metal. One gun poked in Caleb’s face. Then in the moonlight Libby stared down the barrel of another. When she saw the man holding the gun, her teeth started to chatter.

CHAPTER 16
I Needs Help!

H
er mind numb, Libby didn’t know if she was cold, or if it was fear she was feeling. Filled with panic, she tried to tell herself this wasn’t happening. But she knew it was.

“Get down!” ordered a rough voice from Caleb’s side of the peddler’s wagon.

Instantly Caleb turned slightly and whispered into the darkness behind him. “Go to Keosauqua, Iowa. The Pearson house.”

As Caleb hesitated, the rough voice spoke again. “I said, get down from the wagon, and get down now.”

When Caleb reached out a hand, Libby realized her own hand was shaking. Caleb took it, speaking softly. “Come on my side. Do what I do. Don’t try to be a hero.”

The moment Libby stepped onto the ground, the man peered into her face. “Got a young’un here.”

When Caleb didn’t answer, it seemed to anger the outlaw. But the second man was already dragging the tree to one side of the road. When he returned, he climbed up on the far side of the wagon and sat down.

“C’mon, c’mon,” he told the first outlaw. “Let’s get movin.’”

To Libby’s surprise the man’s voice seemed familiar. Peering into the darkness, Libby tried to see him better. The outlaw’s hat shadowed his face.

Still pointing the gun at Libby and Caleb, the first outlaw backed away, then climbed up to the seat. As the driver slapped the reins, Caleb pulled Libby away from the wheel. A moment later, the peddler’s wagon disappeared into the night.

“Well, there they go, over the border,” Caleb muttered.

“Oh, Caleb,” Libby wailed. “What shall we do?”

“You mean, what will
Jordan
do?” Caleb answered.

“Do you really think those outlaws will head for the border?” In spite of her terrible fear, it almost struck Libby funny. “That’s where Jordan wants to go. But what a way to get there!”

Then the reality of what had happened struck Libby. Suddenly her knees felt wobbly. “That sweet little Rose in the hands of outlaws. And Serena and Zack and Jordan’s mother! What will happen to them?”

“I don’t know.” Caleb sounded as upset as Libby felt.

“It’s bad enough for those outlaws to stick guns in our faces!” she said. “But they’re dragging Jordan and his family off to who knows where!”

Caleb took her thoughts a step farther. “Whoever they are, they must have read the wanted posters about Jordan. When they find out that he’s with them, they’ll remember such a big reward. Jordan’s mother and the rest of his family will bring even more money.”

Libby’s dread grew.
Where’s Your favor, God?
she wanted to cry out.
Where’s Your protection?
After all the family had done to escape from the farm, the whole thing seemed terribly unfair.

Just thinking about it, tears welled up in Libby’s eyes. Embarrassed now by her lack of courage, she tried to hold back her sobs. Instead, they broke loose, like water bursting from behind a dam.

“Hey, Libby—” Trying to comfort her, Caleb awkwardly patted her shoulder.

To Libby that seemed the final straw. Angry again, she jerked away.

“Libby, what’s wrong?”

Instead of answering, Libby sobbed even harder. When Caleb tried to lead her to the side of the road, she refused to move. Yet she could not stop weeping.

“Libby, what is
really
wrong?” Caleb asked. “Besides the outlaws, I mean.”

When at last Libby drew a long ragged breath, her words tumbled out. “You didn’t want me along. You thought you couldn’t trust me to help Jordan’s family. All this time I’ve been trying to prove that I could. But the worst of it is, you’re right!”

Suddenly Caleb started laughing. Still standing in the middle of the road, Libby lifted her head, more offended by his laughter than by anything he could have said.

“How can you laugh at me in a time like this?”

Instantly Caleb grew serious. “Libby, just before the outlaws stopped us, I was thinking about the great job you’ve done. I don’t know of another person in the whole world who could have stood in front of Mr. Weaver and kept drawing.”

“Do you mean that, Caleb Whitney?” Libby felt sure he was teasing.

“I mean that, Libby. What’s more, I’m proud of you.”

“But you thought I wouldn’t be up to such a hard trip. Now
I know that I’m not! I’m scared half to death!”

“I’m scared too,” Caleb said quietly. “I’m scared about Jordan and his family—”

“You don’t show it.”

“Nope. I can’t show it.”

Then Libby remembered Caleb’s role as conductor in the Underground Railroad. During five long years he had trained himself to lead fugitives from one station—one hiding place—to the next. Often that meant Caleb needed to hide his feelings.

“And I’m scared about what might happen to you,” Caleb went on.

“Me?” Lifting her head, Libby tossed her long hair.

“You,” Caleb said again. “If something would happen to you, your pa—”

“So it’s not me you’re worried about. It’s my pa. It’s what he would think!”

Caleb groaned. “It’s more than that,” he said as though trying again. “I’m sorry about our argument on the
Christina.”

“Sorry?”
All the frustration Libby had felt burst from her lips. “After all this time, you’re
sorry
?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. You were right. It was wrong the way I used the reporter to tease you. I should have played down the story about our accident. Instead, I made him
want
to write about it.”

Caleb’s apology upset Libby even more. “You let me suffer all this time!”

But then, standing in the middle of nowhere, Libby remembered why they were there. She remembered Jordan, and how he had forgiven even the slave trader Riggs. She remembered how it felt when she had failed, but Jordan had forgiven her.

In the light of the moon, Libby saw the pain in Caleb’s eyes. “I forgive you, Caleb,” she said softly. “I forgive you for everything.”

“Thanks, Libby.” Caleb’s voice was low, as if it was hard for him to admit his feelings. “I really care about what happens to
you
.”

Suddenly within Libby there was the feeling that a dam had burst. All of her welled-up anger, her bottled-up feelings, washed away. She straightened, standing tall.

As though Caleb understood that too, he reached out, took Libby’s hand, and squeezed it.

When they again started walking down the road, Libby felt like a different person. Though her mind kept leaping to Jordan’s family, there was no longer a high wall between her and Caleb. Though her dread of the outlaws remained, hope stirred in Libby’s heart.

“Remember how Jordan prayed for love and protection and favor? Remember how he asked God to blind the eyes and shut the ears of people who would hurt us?”

“Or open the eyes and ears of people who would help,” Caleb answered.

Libby felt shy trying to talk about her growing belief in God. Then she knew that was exactly what Caleb wanted her to do.
It’s one of the things that makes him special
, Libby thought.

But then she also knew something else. Every time she talked about her new belief in Jesus, it became more real to her.

“Maybe we’ll find wheel tracks and be able to follow Jordan,” he said. “We can’t keep up, but let’s stay as close as we can.”

Caleb set a good pace, and Libby half walked and half ran to keep up with him. They walked close to the edge of the road,
ready to jump into the woods if someone came from either direction.

“It’s strange,” Libby said. “Jordan planned a midnight rescue for his family, but they had to leave during the day. Now it must be close to midnight, and we need another kind of rescue—a really big one.”

A few miles down the road, Caleb suddenly stopped. When he turned to Libby, he only whispered a soft
shhh!

Not far ahead, the peddler’s wagon had pulled over to the side of the road. When Caleb slipped into the woods, Libby followed. Moving forward as quietly as possible, they walked without making a sound. But when they drew close, they heard plenty of noise. Little Rose was crying at the top of her lungs. Hattie’s efforts to quiet her seemed to have done no good.

One outlaw stood at the back of the wagon, guarding the door to keep anyone from getting away. A taller man stood at the front of the wagon, holding a gun on Jordan. Libby and Caleb crept as close to him as they could. Kneeling down behind bushes at the side of the road, they peered between the branches.

The two outlaws were arguing. “They’re not yours,” said the man facing Jordan. “I get them!”

Again the voice seemed familiar to Libby. Squirming forward, she tried to see who he was, but could not.

“We’re partners,” the second outlaw answered. “Whatever we get, we divide half and half.”

“Not this time. This boy is mine!”

“Yours?”
The outlaw snorted. “Who do you think you are, telling me what to do?”

“I tracked this boy for a day and a night before he got away.” The raspy voice was hard as nails.

Whoever the man was, Libby hadn’t heard him speak often.
Once?
she wondered.
Twice? Who is he?

“Okay,” said the outlaw at the back of the wagon. “You can have the boy. But I get the rest. I’ll take ’em south and get a good price.”

“No, you won’t!” The taller outlaw turned toward the other. “
All
of them are mine—all mine. I ain’t splitting no reward with you.”

That strange rasp.
Libby struggled to remember.
The man who swam to the
Christina.
He said his name was Charlie—Charlie Swenson. I wondered if he had a cold.

Again she searched her memory, this time for a voice as hard as nails.
The man Jordan pulled from the water. The man who took one look and said, “It’s
you!”

Libby shivered. “It’s the prisoner,” she whispered to Caleb. “Sam McGrady!”

Now that highly dangerous man faced Jordan with a gun in his hands. Her terror growing, Libby remembered Caleb’s warning to Jordan.
“Going back for your family may cost you your life.”

Favor, God
, Libby prayed silently.
Remember? Jordan asked You for favor
.

Just then Jordan’s voice broke into the argument between the outlaws. “I don’t like the way you is talkin’,” he said. “You ain’t got no right to me. You ain’t got no right to my family.”

“Who’s talking about rights?” McGrady asked. “I’m going to collect the reward on your head!”

“No, you ain’t,” Jordan said. “You is an escaped prisoner.”

“There ain’t no one who’s going to ask questions,” McGrady answered. “All I do is bring you in and say, ‘Here’s the slave boy
you been looking for.’ And I collect big money.”

“There ain’t no money big enough to buy a man’s life,” Jordan said.

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