Midnight Rose (51 page)

“Then you aren’t happy here?”

Erin framed her answer carefully, for she did not want to upset her mother. Neither did she wish Elliott to think her ungrateful for the way he’d taken her in and given her shelter. “That doesn’t have anything to do with it. It just bothers me there’s no purpose for me here, while there’s much I could be doing back in Philadelphia.”

“Like what?” Arlene wanted to know. She was terrified to think of her returning to America and said so. “If Ryan was cruel enough to sell you into slavery, he’d be ruthless enough to try and track you down if he found out you’d escaped. The Free Soilers told you that. Have you forgotten so quickly how awful it was to have to run from your own home?” Her voice broke, and Elliott reached to put his arm about her in comfort. They’d had some long, intimate talks the past weeks, and he shared her concern about Erin’s growing restlessness.

“He won’t find me. I’ll take another name, the one I used to come here—Edith Starling. Erin Sterling will no longer exist. And even if he did look for me, he’d never be able to find me. I know only too well how the underground works, how secretive it can be. I’ll have a new identity, a new life.”

Arlene heard the enthusiasm, the spirit, returning to her daughter’s voice. She didn’t approve, but had learned her lesson about interfering in Erin’s life. “Is your mind made up?”

Erin nodded. “I’d like to go back on the next packet.”

Arlene bit her lip, determined not to cry. Elliott squeezed her hand. “Well, then.” She hesitated, waited for his approving nod. “I guess it’s time to tell you we’re going to be married. We realize I’m not legally divorced from Zachary, but in God’s eyes, I feel I am, and that’s all that matters. I’m never going back there, anyway.”

Erin was delighted and said so, confident her mother’s future was secure. “Now I can go back and know you’re in good hands.”

Letty was extremely upset to hear of Erin’s plans. “I’m going to miss you something fierce. Even after I got here and knew I was safe, I was still lonesome. Then your momma came, and we’d talk about how wonderful it would be if you and my momma and Ben were all here. Now that’s not going to happen.”

Erin understood but reminded her, “We’ve got to be grateful for what we’ve got in this life, Letty. What if none of us had escaped? Think of the misery then.”

Still, Letty grieved over her leaving.

News of a packet arriving came the day after Arlene and Elliott’s wedding. Excited, Erin rushed to the pier with everyone else to greet those arriving. When she saw the name on the bow—
Freedom
—she couldn’t believe it, then realized how the time had passed. She had arrived in Sierra Leone in early spring, and it was almost July.

Captain O’Grady was the first one down the gangplank. He gave her a big bear hug. “Aye, ye look fit, lassie. Almost like a real native.”

Erin laughed at that. She no longer used the bleaching water, but her skin had darkened only from the sun. She’d learned, as her mother had, that their heritage was not evident in the coloring of their skin, and she wouldn’t have cared anyway.

She was about to tell him she’d be making the return voyage with him, when all of a sudden Letty, standing right beside her, gave a loud shriek and took off, frantically pushing her way through the crowd. Erin stood on tiptoe to see over the heads of those in front of her. As she recognized the tall, dark-skinned man hurrying down the gangplank, waving his arms wildly, she knew the reason for Letty’s reaction. “Praise God,” she whispered, herself shuddering with emotion.

It was Ben.

Erin waited till the excitement of Ben’s arrival died down, and he and Letty had slipped away together, before telling Captain O’Grady her news.

He was as enthusiastic as she’d hoped he would be. “The Free Soilers need workers like you, lassie. It’s just a shame there’s not more money to book passage for those that need to make a new life once freed, and an even bigger sin that we can’t help the fugitives.

“I guess,” he went on thoughtfully, soberly, “since my time with you, all the memories of those days I’m not proud of came rushing back, and I’ve found myself wishing there was something I could do to make up for it all. Hearing you’re going back to help perks me up a bit, all the same.”

“Well, we might find a way for you to help, too,” Erin commented mysteriously, not about to say more just then. The wheels were turning, and she had ideas but needed to formulate them with Mother Bethel and Charles Grudinger.

Sadly, Erin and Arlene said their farewells.

Arlene broke down and cried, Elliott’s arms about her to comfort. “I don’t mean to carry on so, to send you away like this, but I’m so afraid I’ll never see you again.”

Erin, likewise, was emotionally choked but mustered strength to say fiercely, “That can’t happen, Mother, because we live in each other’s hearts, and that means we’re always together, and always will be.”

They clung together one last time.

Each had responded to the call of the
morna.

Nate slept in a room adjoining his office. He knew it meant trouble when Zachary showed up at dawn, and not just because of the unusual hour. Zachary reeked with the stench of smoke, his face was streaked with soot, and he looked as if he’d been in a fight.

Nate thought he was prepared to hear any explanation, but his blood ran cold when Zachary uttered only one word as he slumped into a chair.

“Youngblood.”

“Goddamn!” Nate sat down opposite, instinctively reaching for his whiskey jug to take a big swallow before asking, “What happened?”

Zachary helped himself to the jug before revealing, “He was looking for Erin—”

“After all these months?”

“He’s onto something. Don’t ask me what. All I know is he showed up at my place late last night, asking questions. I was there by myself. Even my overseers were gone, ’cause another slave took off yesterday. We were out all day looking for him, and I was tired and went home to get some sleep but made them stay out there.

“I had a gun, and I told him to get out, but he was able to jump me, and the next thing I knew, I woke up in the front yard, and the house was burned to the ground. The bastard must’ve left me there to die. I dragged myself out but can’t remember it.”

Comprehension dawned, and Nate cried sharply, “If he went to you for answers, that has to mean his mother didn’t tell him I was the one she hired to take care of his wife. I’d like to know exactly what she did tell him, but I don’t dare contact her, and I doubt she’ll come to me.

“The thing I got to worry about,” he went on, more to himself than Zachary, “is whether Youngblood might just be able to track his wife down. I was hesitant to get involved in this shit anyway, even with all the money involved, but his mother swore she’d make sure he didn’t suspect a thing. Now that he does, if he finds her—finds out what happened and how I had a hand in it—I’ll go to prison…if he doesn’t kill me.”

“Well, like you said, he don’t know about you. If he had, he would have come after you instead of me.”

“True.” Nate nodded, his mouth a thin, grim line. “But now I’ve got to make sure the trail stops with you, that he’s hit a dead end and can’t go no further.”

“It’s been months,” Zachary said. “There’s no way he could trace her now. What you better concern yourself with is him being able to badger his mother into telling him about your part in it.”

“That doesn’t worry me, because I’d just deny it. It’d be my word against hers. She hasn’t got any proof.”

“What about me?” Zachary flared. “It’s my house got burned down, and I didn’t have anything to do with what happened to Erin. Hell, I’ve had a tough time lately, anyway, what with Arlene stirring the slaves up with voodoo. And now I’ve got to start all over. I just wish to hell I’d gone on and killed the bitch!” He banged his fists on the table in frustration.

“Maybe you’ll get your chance. I think it’s time we tracked them both down and made sure neither one of them ever talks. Then we can rest easy. You can go to the law about Youngblood burning down your house, and he’ll have to pay for it.”

Zachary liked both ideas. He’d get a new house, and he’d also stop worrying that Arlene could reach him from wherever she was with her evil spirits. The drums still echoed sometimes at night, and it made him nervous to worry she might be having messages sent to the slaves to keep them stirred up.

Nate strapped on his holster. “Let’s go find Harnaby. He’ll set us in the right direction.”

“You mean you don’t know?” Zachary cried, getting to his feet to follow. “But you took them both off, didn’t you? Hell, you ought to know who bought ’em.”

“Harnaby took care of that. I had some other business to tend to.” He saw the way Zachary was looking at him, and snapped, “Anybody can take a slave to market, damn it!”

“Well, I’ll just breathe a lot easier when we find out exactly where they went to market.”

Ryan stood in the shadows of an alley just across the street from the warehouse. He was already there when Zachary rode in, for he’d been trying to get himself under control before confronting Nate Donovan. He’d wanted just to charge in and try to beat the truth out of him but knew it was best to move slowly. Then he saw Zachary, and even deeper rage washed over him as he realized the two must be in cahoots with each other. Why else had Zachary gone straight to Donovan after what had happened?

Ryan tried to figure
out what they would do. After all, Zachary had come to tell Donovan about Ryan’s visit the night before, that he had found out Erin had not left him by choice. They would no doubt try to prevent him from finding her, knowing there would be hell to pay when he did. So he waited, giving them time to decide what to do.

And when they made their move, he was right behind them.

He followed stealthily as they walked the few short blocks to a rundown hotel on a side street not far from the warehouse. When they went in, he waited a few moments, then hurried to the desk to slip the clerk money and ask which way the two had gone. Second floor, he was told, to see a man named Harnaby. Corner room on the alley. Ryan knew he was in luck. He had spotted a rickety stairway to an outside entrance there.

He wasted no time in going around to creep up the steps. The window to the corner room was open a few inches.

Crouching to listen, he heard an angry voice, figured it to be Donovan’s, as it didn’t sound like Zachary’s.

“What do you mean you think Kaid Whitlock bought Arlene, and you can’t be sure who bought Erin? Who paid you the money, goddamn it?”

Jason Harnaby knew he had to think fast, but they’d woken him up, and he was groggy, unprepared. “I can’t remember. It’s been awhile.”

“Been awhile, my ass!” Zachary screeched. “You better think and think good, mister, ’cause Ryan Youngblood has gone crazy, and he’s out for blood. He tried to kill me last night. Burned my house to the ground. Somehow, he’s found out his wife didn’t just disappear on her own, that she had a little help, and sooner or later, he’s going to find out who gave her that help, unless we find her first and shut her mouth for good.”

Ryan gritted his teeth and slowly began to maneuver his gun from the holster.

“I told you,” Jason whined nervously. “I just don’t remember.”

“Like hell you don’t!” Nate slammed him with his fist to send him sprawling back across the bed. “You better remember, goddamn it, ’cause we ain’t got no time to waste. Now there’s only two traders on the coast who deal with mulattos—Whitlock and Silah Bannister. Which one was it? They’re miles apart, and you better not send me to the wrong one, you dummy son of a bitch.” He hit him again.

Jason knew he was trapped, couldn’t lie his way out, because even if he stuck to his story that he couldn’t remember, when they went to Whitlock and Bannister, they were going to find out he hadn’t showed with either Erin or Lucy Jane, and if they checked further, would find out he’d been missing a few slaves every time he was supposed to be turning them over for sale.

The two men stood between him and the window, but if he could make it, dive through, it wasn’t a dangerously long fall to the ground. He could get away, escape to the North, lose himself in the underground as the fugitives had. Even if he didn’t make it, there was no way he’d give them even a hint of the direction he’d sent anybody, ever.

Zachary had not been wearing boots when Youngblood had taken him by surprise during the night. He’d had to get a pair from Frank’s cabin. He’d also taken a knife, which he’d slipped inside one boot and now was slowly withdrawing. Advancing toward Jason, he snarled, “Maybe he’ll start remembering if I start cutting…”

Jason lunged then. Throwing out his arms to send them stumbling to either side, he dove between them, heading for the window.

Zachary threw the knife and missed, but Nate was quicker, drew his gun and shot him in the back.

Jason fell just as Ryan reacted to crash through the window, gun in hand. He didn’t want to kill, not yet. He still needed information and feared the one who had it was dying at his feet. But Nate had a gun, and Ryan had to defend himself. He fired.

He had meant to hit his wrist, but Nate moved as he pulled the trigger and took the bullet right in his heart. He was dead before he hit the floor.