‘‘Ah.’’ He nodded, eyes twinkling. ‘‘So it is you.’’ He turned. ‘‘And that is your brother over there?’’
‘‘Yes, sir.’’
‘‘Besides these mercy trips, Zachary has proven a great help since he came to work for me.’’
As if sensing he was being spoken of, Zachary turned. At the sight of his sisters, he straightened, then ordered his face into a semblance of a smile and nodded.
‘‘Thank you, sir. I am truly grateful that we could help our wounded.’’
But please make this war stop
. But she kept the smile on her face as they were handed to the next man in line.
‘‘I heartily concur with our president’s comments.’’ General Robert E. Lee, hair now fully white, bowed over her hand.
Louisa glanced at Carrie Mae, seeking support. ‘‘Th-thank you, General. I-I never . . .’’ She swallowed and sucked in a breath of air, air now grown sultry with perfume and cigar smoke.
The general leaned closer, speaking more softly for her ears alone. ‘‘In spite of what a certain young man believes, I am grateful for your efforts to keep him alive. We need his talents to help bring our country through this war and out on the other side.’’
I cannot believe these men know about what we did.
‘‘Thank you, sir.’’
With a hand at her back, Jefferson eased the sisters through those trying to talk with the two famous men and on toward the table set up with food that far surpassed anything Louisa had dreamed of in the past years. Hams and roasts of beef, salads, bite-sized vegetables, hors d’oeuvres of delectable colors and shapes. Young men in white jackets walked about the room with trays of fluted glasses that Louisa knew contained spirits.
She declined a beverage and allowed herself to be propelled to the end of the table where the serving began. Full plate in hand, she seated herself at the table Jefferson indicated, all with the feeling she was up high in one of the corners looking down on some stranger who had assumed her name.
She studied the food on her plate. If only she could take these delicacies home to her boys, how they would delight in the tempting fare.
‘‘Now don’t you go thinkin’ of others right now. Just enjoy what you have before you, now hear?’’ Carrie Mae leaned close enough to whisper in Louisa’s ear.
‘‘Are you a mind reader or what?’’
‘‘Never you mind, but I was right, wasn’t I?’’
Louisa nodded. Since she was sitting with her back to the damask draperies, she could watch the room, or what she could see of it between groups of people. Zachary remained on the other side of the ballroom, one man staying by his side. The two of them were in deep discussion, interrupted by brief interludes of conversation with other men and women. She could tell by watching him that he greeted these interruptions out of necessity but would rather have talked only with the one man.
And that man looked familiar. Where had she seen him before? Trying to figure that out, Louisa ate most of her supper without much attention to the conversations around her.
‘‘Sister, come back. Where are you?’’ Carrie Mae tapped Louisa’s arm with her fan.
Louisa started, nearly dropping a bite of ham. ‘‘Why? What?’’ She dabbed at the corner of her mouth with her napkin. ‘‘Did you say something?’’
Carrie Mae giggled behind her fan. ‘‘I wondered if you noticed.’’
‘‘Noticed what?’’
‘‘That man over there with Zachary. He keeps lookin’ our way. Do you know who he is?’’
‘‘No, but he does look familiar.’’
‘‘Well, I thought sure you must know him, the way he’s been starin’ at you.’’
‘‘Well, if he’s a friend of Zachary’s, he—’’
‘‘Look, he’s comin’ this way. Jefferson, dear, do you know who he is?’’
‘‘Who?’’ He followed his wife’s gaze. ‘‘Oh, of course, that is Wilson Scott, recently recovered from his war injuries. He was a year or two ahead of Zachary at college.’’ Steadly stood to extend his hand. ‘‘Welcome back to Richmond, Wilson. Glad to see you are looking so well.’’
‘‘Thank you, good evening.’’ He stopped in front of the table. ‘‘Miss Highwood, Mrs. Steadly, I’m sure you don’t remember me.’’
Louisa felt like someone was cracking open a door in her mind but wouldn’t open it to reveal the secret hiding there. Then the door swung wider.
‘‘Willy?’’ Louisa laughed in delight. ‘‘You visited Twin Oaks one summer with Zachary. I remember that—’’
‘‘Oh, please. I know what you are going to say. I fell off one of your horses, smack dab into a slough. Your older sister laughed so hard I thought she might fall off, but—’’
‘‘It would take more than laughter to unseat Jesselynn.’’
‘‘Join us. Please sit down.’’ Jefferson swung a chair next to the table. He waved to a waiter. ‘‘Bring this man a drink.’’
Louisa watched as Wilson sank into the chair with a sigh of relief that she knew she wasn’t supposed to notice. By the way he moved, she guessed he’d suffered a back injury.
While he answered Jefferson’s questions, she noticed other things, like well-cut lips that smiled so readily, hazel eyes with creases at the edges that spoke of either laughter or lots of time in the sun. A patch of hair on the right side of his head had turned white, stark against the rich cordovan of the rest. A slight bead of sweat on his clean-shaven upper lip made her think he might be in pain, even now. While he wasn’t a tall man, his broad shoulders filled out the dark coat and gave him an imposing air.
Louisa brought herself back into the moment. ‘‘And what rank will you return as?’’
‘‘Major.’’
Ah, another major in my life
. The thought made her sigh. And from the sounds of things, this one would be gone as soon as the other. She felt her sister’s foot nudge hers under the table.
‘‘Can I get you anything, Major?’’ She nodded toward the table of food.
‘‘No, thank you, but I’d best be going on.’’ He looked Louisa directly in the eyes. ‘‘But I would like to call on you tomorrow, Miss Highwood. If that is not too forward. I mean . . . I know . . . if times were different . . .’’
Louisa smiled. Now would be the time to use her fan, to open it and fan herself oh so delicately. But she kept her fan closed on the cord about her wrist.
‘‘That would be fine.’’ She could hear the squeal that Carrie Mae didn’t utter. Had this all been a setup? She wouldn’t put such a thing past her baby sister, not for one minute.
C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
- F
OUR
On the Chugwater River
Jesselynn found Ophelia kneeling by the drying racks.
‘‘Are you all right?’’
‘‘Soon be.’’ She laid more strips in place as the smoke shrank the former. She groaned and clutched her belly.
‘‘The baby is coming?’’ Jesselynn knelt beside her.
‘‘Yessum. Be soon now, I be thinkin’.’’
‘‘I’ll get Mrs. Mac.’’ Jesselynn could feel her heart speed up already. While she’d helped at many birthings, she’d never done one herself.
‘‘Not yet.’’
‘‘You’ll tell me when?’’
Ophelia’s laugh turned into another groan. She got up and walked around the fire to move more strips around. ‘‘Dis baby in a hurry to be borned.’’
‘‘I’ll have Jane Ellen take the boys to play in the other cave and get Mrs. Mac. My medicine box is . . .’’ She glanced up at the shelf. ‘‘Right here.’’ Jesselynn laid a hand on Ophelia’s shoulder. ‘‘Do we have time for that?’’
Ophelia nodded and started slicing more strips off the elk haunch.
Jesselynn headed back outside to the gathering and, drawing Meshach aside, whispered the news to him. Then she made her way to Jane Ellen.
‘‘Please watch the two little ones. Ophelia is having her baby.’’
Jane Ellen jumped to her feet. ‘‘You want I should help?’’
‘‘You will be by keeping them out of the way. I’m getting Mrs. Mac.’’
Jesselynn stood just behind Mrs. McPhereson, who was talking with Aunt Agatha. ‘‘Mrs. Mac, Ophelia is having her baby,’’ she whispered. ‘‘Come when you can.’’
‘‘I’ll be right there. Let me get my things.’’
‘‘Is she all right?’’ Aunt Agatha had obviously overheard.
‘‘I hope so. She keeps working at the drying rack.’’
‘‘You want to take her to one of the other caves and let the rest of us see to dinner?’’
Jesselynn stopped. Aunt Agatha had indeed spoken to her, just like she used to.
Thank you, Lord
. The forgiveness was a reality.
‘‘How far along is she?’’
‘‘No idea.’’
Though Jesselynn hadn’t been gone more than five minutes, when they returned they found Ophelia lying on a pallet, pushed up against the wall so she had a backrest.
‘‘It comin’,’’ she groaned, panting between contractions.
Mrs. Mac dashed to her side, and Jesselynn fetched her medical kit off the shelf. At least she had scissors and tincture of iodine in it. The baby had slipped out and lay in Mrs. Mac’s hands by the time she returned.
‘‘A girl. You have a baby girl.’’ Mrs. Mac sniffled between the words. ‘‘She is so perfect.’’ The baby let out a squall loud enough to be heard over thunder, making all three women chuckle. ‘‘She sure has a healthy set of lungs.’’ She laid the baby on Ophelia’s chest and turned to Jesselynn. ‘‘You can cut the cord after we tie it off. You brought some string?’’
‘‘No, but a fine piece of latigo should work.’’ Jesselynn knelt at Ophelia’s side. ‘‘You did fine, ’Phelia, just fine. And now we got a little girl in camp. Just think, she’s the firstborn of our new life.’’ She kept up the comforting words as she waited for the cord to cease pulsing, knotted the latigo, and cut the cord.
‘‘De baby borned already?’’ Meshach stopped just inside the curve of the wall.
‘‘You have a baby girl, and she is not happy with any of us at the moment.’’ Jesselynn smiled up at the big man. ‘‘We’ll get things cleaned up here, and you can come visit.’’
Ophelia held out her hand. ‘‘Come see our baby.’’
Within minutes, Ophelia was sitting propped against Meshach’s chest, their daughter tugging on a nipple like she’d been nursing for weeks.
‘‘She just like a little pig.’’ Meshach traced his daughter’s skull with a gentle forefinger. ‘‘What shall we name her?’’
‘‘Lucinda.’’
‘‘Ah, such a fine name. Lucinda be pleased she have a namesake.’’
‘‘And what name will you use for your surname, now that you are free?’’ Jesselynn knelt beside the family and offered a cup of water for Ophelia to drink. ‘‘You must drink lots now to make milk for the baby.’’ She glanced back to Meshach to see a look of pure fear masking his usual smile.
‘‘You don’ want us to be Highwood?’’
‘‘Oh, Meshach. That’s not what I meant at all.’’ She shook her head and held out her hand. ‘‘No, Meshach, I would be proud if you want to keep the family name. But some . . . some . . .’’ She turned her slightly cupped hands palm up. ‘‘Some freedmen never want to hear their old name again.’’
‘‘But some freedmen had massahs what beat dem. Marse Joshua was one fine Christian genneman. He more like a father to me den my own father.’’
Thank you, Lord, for giving me a father like mine. Times like this I miss him so much I could bawl like a baby. Daddy, if you can hear, be proud of us. Be glad for us, for our new life out here
.
‘‘Thank you, Meshach, we will never mention this again.’’ Jesselynn cupped the baby’s head. ‘‘Do we call you Lucy, for Lucinda is such a big name?’’
One by one the others tiptoed in and admired the baby. Sammy and Thaddeus stood back until Ophelia beckoned them to her.
‘‘See our baby girl?’’
‘‘Can she run?’’ Thaddeus leaned closer to Jesselynn.
Ophelia shook her head. ‘‘No.’’
‘‘Can she go fishin’?’’ The day before Thaddeus had been fishing with Daniel and caught five fish.
‘‘No. But someday.’’’
‘‘Can she play with sticks?’’
‘‘No. Not yet.’’
He looked up at Jesselynn. ‘‘Is she broke?’’
Jesselynn stooped down beside him. ‘‘She’s not broken. She was just born, Thaddeus. She has to grow some.’’
He shook his head, disgust in every line of his sturdy body. ‘‘We eat now?’’
‘‘Yes, dinner will be ready very soon. You two go on out and help Mrs. Mac.’’
Meshach chuckled and laid his cheek against Ophelia’s head. ‘‘I reckon dey don’ think much of de baby.’’ He looked down to see his wife and daughter both sound asleep.
———— Two nights later, Jesselynn and Wolf were just falling asleep in the tent they’d pitched down in the meadow near the grazing herd, when Jesselynn heard a voice. She crawled out of the tent and, looking up the hill, saw Meshach standing with something in his hands. She paused in the shadow while moonlight outlined him in silver.
He raised his cupped hands and looked heavenward, his arms strong and unwavering, his face radiant with glory.
‘‘Lord God, see my daughter, my daughter who is free. No slave but free!’’ His voice rolled over the land, his words ringing like cathedral bells. Like the angels who came to the shepherds, his voice spoke of freedom from fear. ‘‘My daughter, Lord, who is born free, named Lucinda after your servant, Faith after you, Highwood after our family, she be yours. She be yours.’’
The baby cried once but stopped as soon as her father gathered her to his bosom.
Jesselynn crept back to lie beside her sleeping husband, the tears continuing to wet her pillow long after she fell asleep.
Getting ready for the trip to the fort took weeks. October stayed warm with chilly nights as they all worked toward winter preparations. The horses to be sold were well trained and groomed to look their best. Trade goods, such as carved pitchforks, willow baskets, knitted stockings, buckskin shirts, braided rawhide bridles, and ropes took up wagon space. The three fattest oxen were chosen to sell for beef, and seven horses formed the herd to be sold.
The night before they left, the temperature plummeted, leaving the ground white for their early morning departure.
Nate and Aunt Agatha drove one wagon, Benjamin another, and Jesselynn the third. Wolf rode his Appaloosa, and Mark Lyons mounted one of the new mares. Daniel and Meshach stayed in camp with the others.
Jesselynn laughed at the sight of her breath in the air. The rising sun sprinkled the ground with gemstones, glittering every color of the rainbow.