Morning Star (6 page)

CHAPTER 15

Flower

THERE WAS
no sound to warn
them, only the sense that they were no longer alone. Flower heard her mother's
soft moan of fear, opened her eyes, and saw a tall man looking down at them. He
was dressed entirely in black, with a black hat on his head. Beneath the brim,
his pale face was lean and craggy, the light from the fire deepening the shadows
beneath his eyes.

Her father managed only one word—“Mercy.”

The stranger stepped forward, moving into the
firelight. “Yes, 'tis God's mercy—he has delivered you safely to me.” He noted
the condition of the group assembled at his feet, their sodden clothes and
shivering bodies. “Did Jonah's craft sink, take on water?”

“We met no Jonah. We made our own raft. It hit a
rock and broke apart.”

“Can you walk?”

They struggled to their feet.

The stranger told them he was Noah Pemberton, a
Quaker and a friend. He led them up a stony incline and through a field to a
narrow frame house, light spilling out from an open doorway. A woman holding a
lamp stood on the threshold. She, too, was dressed in black, with a small cap on
her head concealing her hair. Her face had the same sharp angles as the man's,
but it was smaller, more birdlike.

“Oh my,” she said as she observed the ragtag group
assembled before her. “Come in, come in.” She held out her hand and motioned for
them to come forward.

No one moved. They stood sodden and hesitant,
unsure about entering a white person's home.

“Round the back then—men to the stable and mother
and children to the kitchen. You can change out of those clothes. Come now,
before you expire.” She herded them round to the back of the house and
introduced herself as Sarah Pemberton. She helped Cleo sink into a chair, cooing
over Gabriel as he was released from his sling.

Flower felt nimble fingers remove her wet clothes,
a washrag scrub her face and hands. “There. That will do for now. You can bathe
properly tomorrow.” Sarah lifted a cotton gown over Flower's head and helped her
find the sleeves.

When they were dressed, she invited them to sit at
the kitchen table. Mrs. Pemberton lifted a loaf of bread from a box and began to
slice it. “There's cheese coming. Please help yourself.”

Flower tried to copy her mother's delicate
nibbling, though she wanted to tear into her share. Her father's first swallow
was accompanied by a long sigh.

After their simple meal, the men returned to the
stable, and Mrs. Pemberton led Flower, her mother, and baby brother to an attic
room at the top of the house. They barely noted the luxury of bed linen and
mattress beneath their exhausted bodies as they fell into a deep sleep.

In the morning, Flower was reluctant to wake up.
Half asleep, she clung to her mother and begged her to stay in bed, but Cleo
refused. “I hear noises below. That kind woman is making us a meal.”

Footsteps on the stairs, then Mrs. Pemberton's head
appeared through the opening in the floor. She grunted with the effort of
carrying a jug and basin. Cleo jumped up to take them from her hands.

“There. You and the children can wash.” In a few
minutes she was back with an armful of clothing. The dress meant for Flower was
too large; the hem dragged along the floor. “We see few children, but this dress
can be altered to fit.”

Clean and dressed, Cleo, Gabriel, and Flower
descended the narrow stairs. Eldon was seated at the long pine table. Noah
Pemberton sat at the far end, and his wife brought them bowls of steaming tea.
Sarah motioned for the rest of the family to sit down.

“You should be seated, and I will bring food to the
table,” Cleo said.

“A kind thought, but I know my own kitchen—and I'm
amazed you can put one foot in front of the other after such a long trek.”

Noah addressed Flower's father. “Tell us of your
journey and of yourself.”

Eldon set a piece of paper on the table. It was a
letter he had been carrying, folded neatly but still wet. Noah opened it
carefully, set fine wire glasses on the end of his long nose, and began to
read.

CHAPTER 16

Felicia

FELICIA STOOD
in front of a mirror, gazed at her image, snapped her helmet firmly into place, and shook her head in wonder. She listened as Francine negotiated the price of everything with the shop owner.

“The boots have been polished, but you can still see the wear,” Francine said.

“Those were very expensive boots.”

“Not anymore. And these pants have seen better days.”

“Originally top of the line.”

“There's a thread loose on the side seam.”

“Oh, give me a break!”

After the wrangling, Delia presented her credit card, and the transaction was complete. They exited the store, Felicia carrying a large bag. Francine led them to the local bakery where they ordered mugs of tea and muffins, still warm from the oven.

“There. You're all set,” said Francine as they settled at a round table.

Felicia smiled at her riding teacher. Her mother spoke for both of them. “Thank you for helping us at the shop. I'm not very good at bargaining. I think I always end up paying more whenever I try.”

“No problem. Jane's a friend of mine, and she gets lots of her inventory from my students.” She asked Felicia, “Are you all excited now that you have the gear?”

“Yes.”

“Nervous?”

“Yes.”

“That's okay.”

“Felicia is good at sports,” said Delia. “But I worry. I think it must be very different to work with an animal. You can't just rely on your own efforts; you have to hope the horse is going to cooperate.”

“Absolutely! That's why riding is so special—it's the working relationship that develops between horse and rider.”

“Will this horse she's going to be riding behave itself?”

Francine didn't laugh at this question. “We're going to work together, Felicia and I, because I think this horse is worth the effort.” She turned to her student. “Are you ready to do that?”

“Sure!”

After their tea, they got in the car and followed Francine's pickup truck back to the stable. Felicia changed into her riding pants and boots while Francine brought Morning Star in from the field. Delia kept a respectful distance as Felicia began the process of learning how to groom and ready the horse for her ride.

“Talk to her while you brush,” said Francine. “Let her get to know you. While you're doing that, have a good look at her. See if she has any sores or swelling.”

“Where would she have swelling?”

“On her legs.”

“There's a mark here on her rump.”

Francine took a look. “Someone's nipped her. Nothing serious.”

“Oh no! Poor Star!”

“It happens. They push each other around. She has to learn her place as part of the herd.”

Francine showed Felicia how to lift Morning Star's hooves, one at a time, and pick them clean. The saddle was next. Felicia hoisted it on top of a quilted pad and fastened the girth strap, which ran from one side of the saddle to the other, under the horse's belly. The bit and bridle presented more of a challenge. Francine instructed Felicia to place the bit in the horse's mouth and the bridle straps across her nose and over her ears. All the while, the horse stood quietly and tossed her head only once.

In the arena, Francine did a final check, tightened the girth strap, then led Star to the mounting block, and Felicia swung on. With a line clipped to the halter, Francine led horse and rider in a large circle.

“How does that feel?”

“High up.”

“You'll get used to that. She's actually not a very big horse.” Francine's strong hands gripped Felicia's booted feet and realigned them in the stirrups. “Heels down.” She pushed her student's lower legs against the horse's sides. “Hug your horse. That's better. Now, pick up the reins.”

By the end of the lesson, Felicia had trotted in a circle on the lunge line, then down the long side of the arena on her own. Finally, she walked the perimeter of the arena, waving at her mother. Delia followed them back into the barn and watched as Felicia removed tack and toweled the horse. Star was given a carrot for her efforts, her soft muzzle grazing Felicia's palm as she received the treat.

Dodie, Renate, and Sophie arrived.

“Felicia! You're riding! Yay!”

“How was it?”

“Great! I was trotting!”

“Get out! Already?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to ride with us now?”

“I want to.”

“She did very well,” said Francine, “but she's not ready for that yet. A couple more lessons with me, and then she can ride with you.”

Sophie admired Star. “Sweet horse.”

Felicia placed her face against Star's, felt the warmth of the hairy jaw beneath her cheek. “Yes, she's sweet.”

On the way home, Felicia tried to tell her mother what it was like to ride Star. “So awesome! Except now my bum's sore.”

“Just remember to be careful.”

CHAPTER 17

Flower

FLOWER STOOD
on a chair
and ran her fingers over the soft linen skirt. Mrs. Pemberton, her mouth
brimming with pins, knelt in front of her to adjust the hem. The men sat at the
table.

“This is a most complimentary letter of
introduction, and written by a parson, a man of God.” Noah Pemberton passed the
folded letter back to her father.

“He took a shine to me, knew I wanted freedom and a
better life for me and my family. He came to see us in our quarters, held a sort
of church. It was good for us to be together, gave us a chance to talk. Master
Chesley didn't mind.”

“I think he minds now that you've gone away. Was
your master unkind?”

“No…sometimes. He would beat those of us who
disobeyed him, but he didn't torture anyone. He wasn't cruel, not like Samuel's
master. And we had enough to eat.”

“Yet you chose to take your family from that
place.”

“We were cared for, but we were still slaves. I
wanted to earn money and buy our freedom, but he wouldn't hear of us
leaving.”

“I understand.”

“I want to make my own way in this world. I know I
can.”

Flower felt very proud of her father as she
listened to him speak, wanted to go and stand beside his chair, but Mrs.
Pemberton asked her to turn around so she could adjust the other side of the
skirt.

“Is Samuel your brother?” asked Noah.

“We met at the river. We helped each other as
brothers would.”

“The river has made Samuel's wound more
troublesome.”

“He's ailing?”

“The doctor has been summoned.”

Cleo appeared at the bottom of the stairs, the baby
in her arms. “Husband,” she said, interrupting their conversation.

“What is it, woman? We're meeting here.”

“It's Gabriel. He's not nursing, and his body is
very hot.”

Eldon went immediately to the baby and felt his
forehead. Mrs. Pemberton stopped her work. The chair wobbled as she gripped it
for support. Once on her feet, she lifted Gabriel from his mother's arms and set
him on the table, unwrapped his shawl, and frowned as she placed her ear against
his chest, which rose and fell with each rapid breath. “I will prepare a
poultice to lower his fever.”

Flower sat by the fire and held her brother, while
her frightened mother tore a clean sheet into pieces. Mrs. Pemberton smeared a
paste on one of the rags and positioned it on the baby's laboring chest. Cleo
then held him tight against her own.

Flower could see her mother's fear and absorbed it
into herself. She wondered if they were being punished for leaving the master's
household. Should they have stayed where they were and done what they were told?
She wanted to ask these questions, but didn't; she knew such talk would make her
mother even more anxious and her father angry.

Mrs. Pemberton's voice interrupted these thoughts.
“Come child, I will show you how to help your wee brother.” In her hand she held
a cup of water and a spoon. Flower was shown how to place droplets of water
gently on the baby's lips and into his mouth.

“That's right, just the smallest amount. We don't
want him to choke.”

Flower concentrated on her task, dripping liquid
past Gabriel's dry, cracked lips. She could feel the heat pulsating from his
body.

On the other side of the room, her father continued
his conversation with Mr. Pemberton. “We've always tried to be good people.”

“Of that I have no doubt.” Noah folded his hands
and looked at Eldon. “I hate to say this, but you can't remain here. We are too
close to the river. It is dangerous. Slave catchers are determined to recapture
runaways and will travel great distances.”

“Where should we go?”

“There are other places, other people. I cannot
give you a map or list, but I will tell you, and you must commit this
information to memory.”

“How much time do we have here?”

“Two days.”

A horse neighed in the distance. Flower shared a
nervous glance with her father. Noah walked to the window, placed a comforting
hand on Eldon's shoulder, and said, “Friends.”