Escape Into the Night (19 page)

“Slave catchers are close behind me,” the deacon warned. “If the baby cries, they’ll hear him, even from the hiding place.”

“We’ll leave right away!” Caleb exclaimed.

Again Libby felt surprised by the quickness with which Caleb made up his mind. But Mrs. Trowbridge moved just as fast. Without another word, she started making sandwiches.

“My horse is worn out,” Deacon said. “I’ll see about other horses.”

But Caleb stopped him. “Not with the warm weather we’ve been having. I’m hoping the Skunk River will still be frozen.”

Deacon rubbed his chin. “It’s smaller and more shallow than the Mississippi.”

Caleb nodded. “But if we took horses and a wagon we might go through the ice.”

“You’re sure you want to walk?” the deacon asked. “It’ll be hard with the baby.”

“I’d rather cross on foot,” Caleb told him. “We have a better
chance of not falling through.”

“You’ll cut across country?” Deacon’s eyes were dark with concern.

“They’ll watch every road,” Caleb answered. “If we leave right now, we’ll be deep in the woods before first light.”

On four pieces of cloth, Mrs. Trowbridge set down the sandwiches and added apples and cheese. Gathering up the corners, she tied each cloth into a bag.

Quickly she wove a long strip of cloth through the knot. As she tied the lunch around Libby’s waist, she explained. “Your hands will be free if you need them.”

As they stood at the door, ready to leave, Deacon Trowbridge warned them. “Don’t try to hide in the house,” he said, as though knowing where Caleb would go. “It’s being watched.”

Caleb grinned. “Just take care of the dogs.”

Dogs?
Libby shivered.
We’ll have dogs following us?

She couldn’t think of anything more frightening. Unless it was a dog like Samson, that is. Samson wouldn’t hurt even a flea on his own back.
Maybe Caleb is teasing
.

But then Libby remembered the dogs she had seen from the Burlington hotel. She was starting to put two and two together, and she didn’t like the answer she got.

In the darkness before dawn they set out—Caleb first, then Emma and the baby, Libby, and finally Jordan. Past the town square and the Denmark Academy they walked. Past the houses they crept, making no sound. When they reached the north side of the village, Caleb slipped between trees still bare of leaves.

He seemed to follow a path, but Libby could not see it. Then, as the darkness gradually faded, she noticed a faint pressed-down line of grass. Before long, even that disappeared. This was
no ordinary trail marked for everyone to see. Only a bent twig here or there helped the person who knew how to look.

Ahead of Libby, Emma’s bare feet passed over the cold earth without sound. Behind Libby, Jordan also walked with bare feet. Between the two of them, Libby felt strangely cared for—as though the desperate experiences they had known would now protect her.

More than once she wondered if she would be able to keep up. Both of the boys were in good shape. The fast walk through the woods seemed no problem to them. Not even Emma with her baby lagged behind. Her step seemed light, as if she carried no extra weight.

They were well into the woods when Libby heard dogs barking from somewhere behind. Emma flinched and started to run.

Libby whirled around, but trees blocked her view. Instead, she saw Jordan—calm, strong Jordan with a bead of sweat above his lips. With fear in his eyes, he, too, was moving faster.

But Caleb only turned his head, as though making sure they all followed. “It’s all right,” he said quickly. Though he picked up an already rapid pace, his movements showed no fear.

Libby strained to listen. Her heart was still pounding when she realized something had changed. From behind she heard no barking dogs. No dogs moved closer and closer.

When she glanced around, Libby knew that Jordan had also heard the change. As he hiked through the woods, a smile played around his lips.

Libby had no idea how far they had walked when Jordan suddenly passed her. With great, long strides, he caught up to
Caleb. Reaching out, he put a hand on Caleb’s shoulder.

As Caleb turned, Jordan held a finger to his lips. “Shhhh!” he seemed to say.

With quick movements of his hands, Jordan motioned them off the path. Into the trees he led them as he seemed to search for a hiding place. When he came to a thick tangle of bushes, Jordan took them to the far side, then stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Caleb whispered.

“The Lord, He warned me,” Jordan answered. “He say, ‘Watch the river, Jordan. There’s danger at the river.’”

“Did the Lord tell you what to do?” Caleb asked, as though he had no question about Jordan’s ability to hear God.

In the gray light before dawn a grin spread across Jordan’s face. “I ’spect He talk to you ’bout that.”

Libby could barely hear Caleb’s low laugh. Yet the strangeness of it shocked her. How could they make a joke out of what seemed to be terrible danger?

For a minute Caleb stood there, as though thinking about what to do. “We’re almost at Skunk River,” he said finally. “It could be Riggs. If he figured out that we went to Denmark, he’ll know we need to cross the river to reach Burlington. He’ll know there’s no bridge. And he’ll know the best place to cross.”

“And if it’s not Riggs?” Libby asked.

“The men who followed Deacon Trowbridge could be following us—without their noisy dogs.”

Which is it?
Libby felt scared, just thinking about it.
Riggs ahead of us? Or slave catchers behind?

Then fear tightened Libby’s muscles.
Or is it both? We could be caught in between!

Caleb looked as calm as if he did this kind of thing every day.
“Remember Pastor Salter’s prayer?” he asked. “That we would know the way to take? We’re going to try a different crossing.”

And Pastor Salter prayed something else
, Libby remembered.
Give them light when they need light, and darkness when they need darkness
.

As though hearing Libby’s thoughts, Caleb spoke again. “The sun will soon be up. If there’s ice, we go across on the river. If there’s not—”

Caleb’s hands tightened, as though dreading the thought. “There’s a small boat upstream from where I’ll bring you. It’s hidden under the bushes next to the river.”

He turned to Emma. “If we get separated, you and Libby go ahead. Cross the river and keep going till you come to a farm. Don’t go near the house. The man who lives there is being watched. Hide in the trees behind the barn, and we’ll meet you there.”

“And if you can’t?” Libby asked. She didn’t want to think about the possibility.

Caleb’s strong gaze met Libby’s. “If we can’t, Emma will know what to do. If Jordan and I don’t find you before dark, don’t wait for us.”

“Don’t wait?” Libby whispered. “If you and Jordan get stopped, what will you do?”

Caleb shrugged. Without answering, he turned away. As they started out again, he did not return to the path, faint though it was. Always, he walked around any branch that would snap. Always he circled any pile of leaves from last autumn—leaves that might rustle with dryness.

Then, just ahead, Libby saw the edge of a bank. Caleb dropped onto his stomach and wiggled beneath the branches
of a patch of bushes. Carefully he looked every which way.

Before long, Caleb backed out from the bushes. Leaning close to Emma and Libby, he warned them. “Right here the bank is really steep. In fact, it’s a nine- or ten-foot drop. No one will expect you to cross.”

In the early light of dawn Libby saw that the ground fell sharply away. Then came the river.

“The ice is holding,” Caleb whispered. “If we cross now—”

Libby knew what he meant. Even in an hour, with the warming of the day, the ice could give way.

“You go first,” Caleb told Libby. “Let Emma pass down the baby. When Emma gets below you, lower the baby to her.”

Already Emma was working quickly, reshaping the bundle of blankets. When she finished, Libby saw that in the outermost blanket Emma had tied a handle. To that she knotted another blanket, this one stretched full length, like a rope.

“Don’t wait for us,” Caleb told Libby again. “Whatever happens, you and Emma keep going.”

As Caleb held her hand, Libby slipped over the edge of the bank. When she felt around for a foothold, her feet sank into snow where the sun’s rays did not reach.

Emma’s bare feet!
Libby thought in the moment before she started sliding.

Frantically she reached out, caught a branch, and hung on. But the branch snapped, and Libby slid farther. In her downward plunge, she again reached out. This time she grabbed the trunk of a small tree.

Libby had barely caught her breath when Emma called to her. “Ready?” she whispered, as though unmoved by the danger.

Digging her feet into the snow, Libby braced her body
against a larger tree. “Ready!” she whispered back.

Carefully Emma lowered the blanketed baby. Slowly she let out the line, letting the slippery snow carry the baby down.

Just before little Henry reached Libby, the line gave out. With shaking hands Libby climbed up, took hold of the bundle, and hung on.

Making her own new path, Emma slid down the hill past Libby. At the edge of the river, Emma braced herself. With her heart pounding again, Libby lowered the baby to Emma.

“I gots him,” Emma whispered at last. For an instant she gathered the baby in a grateful hug. Then her hands moved swiftly, rearranging the blankets again.

This time she pulled out two long corners. Slinging one corner over her shoulder, she pushed the other corner under the opposite arm. Reaching back, she tied the two ends. With little Henry safely cradled in front of her chest, Emma’s hands were again free.

At the shore of the river, Libby stepped down, expecting to find ice. Instead, cold water rose around her feet. Suddenly she yelped.

“Hush!” came the quick warning from above.

Libby leaped from the water to a foothold in the bank.

Just then a voice cried out. “Over there!” a man shouted.

“Get him!” called another.

The slave catchers!
Like the cold water, terror washed over Libby.

In the woods above, a branch snapped. Pounding feet seemed to shake the earth as the boys drew the slave catchers away.

“You told the catchers where we is!” Emma’s whisper was sharp with anger.

Libby’s terror changed to panic. Guilt weighed her down.
What will happen to Caleb and Jordan? What will happen to us?

“The ice—” Libby whispered, unable to think of what to do. In the stronger light the ice looked mushy and soft.

“We is goin’ anyway!” Emma tested her footing.

In those few minutes the gap between the river bank and the ice seemed to have widened. The cold, dark water waited for one wrong step.

As Libby tried to plant her feet, she slipped in the soft ground. Before she could cry out, Emma clapped a hand over her mouth.

“From now on, I is leadin’ you!” she exclaimed in an angry whisper. “And you listen up!”

With her baby close to her chest, Emma crouched next to the water. Again Libby struggled to find her footing. Just then she heard a sharp cry. Turning, she looked up.

A man’s face peered over the steep bank.

“There they are!” he cried. “I found them!”

CHAPTER 18