Indigo (26 page)

It was the most shocking and delicious experience of Hester's life. His mouth set off a heat stoked higher by the intimate accompaniment of his dallying fingers. A passion-induced dementia gripped her, tossed her. Her thighs parted in wanton invitation and he rewarded her with an erotic thanks that lifted her hips off the bed. The crescendo shattered her with the force of a lightning bolt, racking her as she screamed out his name.

Galen eased her back to earth with sweet tenderness. When she finally opened her eyes, she stared up at him with such wonder, he smiled smugly. "Well?" he asked.

"Is that one of the reasons women rarely tell you no?" she asked in a voice that mirrored her half-dazed state.

"Partially. Did you enjoy the treat?"

"Partially? You mean there's more?"

He chuckled softly. "Much more."

Hester shook her head. She couldn't imagine what "much more" entailed, but being a woman of the 1850's she did know properly raised women weren't supposed to enjoy this, yet she had. So much so, just looking up at him made her want to be shown "much more." "Well, treats or no, I won't be marrying you."

Galen sat beside her, ignored her statement for a moment, concentrating instead on her mattress. Using the flat of his hand he pressed down upon it. It had all the resiliency of wood. He'd slept on open ground that was softer.

"I'll have Raymond order you a new mattress. This one feels as if it's filled with rocks."

Hester sat up. "You are not sending me a mattress or anything else. Haven't you been listening these past few weeks? No more gifts. None."

Her face was not very far from his own. He ran his eyes over the lush curve of her mouth and her gorgeously half clad frame. "It's a wonder you don't wake up bruised every morning. It shouldn't take long to acquire a new one."

Hester dragged the gown over her nakedness as best she could. She wanted to shake him, even as she responded to the heat emanating from his eyes. "Is it the wealth, or were you born with this arrogance?"

He shrugged his magnificent shoulders. "It's a bit of both I suppose, but it is of no consequence,
petite.
Before the leaves turn, you will be mine."

Hester shook her head at his presumption.

Galen had no doubt she would be his. Yes, his manner was rooted in years of wealth and privilege but his desire for her was true. He would have her or die trying. He told her softly, "I should go so you can sleep. Give me a kiss."

Hester wanted to box his ears. Did he think she'd be able to sleep?

He raised an eyebrow at her mutinous manner. "Ah, the contrary woman has returned."

Hester's lips lifted into a tiny smile. She found it impossible to stay angry with him. He was a rascal wrapped in charm and she had no defense against him. "If I kiss you, will you promise to go?"

"Kiss me and we'll see..."

He left an hour later.

Abigail returned later in the morning as Hester sat eating breakfast.

"You look as if you didn't get much sleep," Abigail remarked.

"I—was up for a while catching up on a few things."

Gail peered at Hester's face and the faint rings beneath her eyes. Hester sought to distract her by asking, "I thought you and Racine were going to spend a few days together."

Gail smiled. "We are. I came back here to get some clothing. There's a coach outside waiting. We didn't get much sleep either."

Hester sipped her tea.

After Gail departed, Hester sat and brooded over her life. She didn't believe for a minute Galen's professed desire to make her his wife. Just because she lived in the country didn't mean she had turnips for brains. Surely he didn't believe her to be that naive. She and Galen were from two different worlds. She knew from her school lessons a bit about the Louisiana Creoles. They were known as the
gens de couleur libres,
free people of color. Their ancestry embraced most of the European races that came to America's shores but it was the African blood in their veins which tied them to the rest of the Blacks in America. That common thread made them subject to all the restrictions and dangers facing the race as a whole. Having lived in Louisiana under both Spanish and French rule many of the Blacks there were free before America was born. Over time they amassed enough wealth to establish successful businesses and found their own schools and newspapers. Many families sent their sons to France to be educated, thereby circumventing America's segregation. During the War of 1812, Free Black brigades played a pivotal role in Andrew Jackson's victory at Chalmette. In December of 1814, Jackson issued a proclamation thanking them for their service to the nation during its time of need. His words on that day were now a treasured part of the race's history. During Hester's school years Jackson's proclamation had been routinely assigned as a memorization piece.

Admittedly she did not know much more about the Creoles of New Orleans, but it was more than enough to know Galen could not have been serious about marrying. The mulattoes of Louisiana did not present purple-handed former slaves as their intended. Their social circles would not stand for such a breach in etiquette.

But Hester soon had other more pressing worries as the days passed. The slave catcher Ezra Shoe and his band of ruffians rode back into the area during the last week of May. All movement of passengers either came to a complete halt or were moved with the utmost of care. Jockey lights were dimmed all over the county and conductors held their breaths, hoping he would leave again soon.

But he didn't leave. In fact the Road went into alarm as word spread of the writ Shoe had served on Bea's neighbors, Fanny and James Blackburn. They were being held in Sheriff Lawson's jail until they could be shipped south. The community was outraged.

At the Vigilance Committee meeting that night, the members strove to devise a plan. According to Sheriff Lawson, the writ from the federal magistrate was vague at best. It stated only that a married couple was wanted by a planter in Tennessee. There were no specific names on any of the documents Shoe presented to Lawson. If the Blackburns weren't freed somehow, they could be sent south without a trial or the right to testify on their own behalf due to the mandates set forth in the Fugitive Slave Law.

"Will the owner take money in exchange for their freedom?" Hester asked.

Hubble shook his head no. "According to Shoe, the master has already been wired and is on his way here to reclaim them."

"Could he really be their owner?" William Lovejoy asked.

Bea Meldrum shrugged. "Shoe says he is, but—we really don't know."

"We must get them to Canada." Branton Hubble stated.

Everyone agreed.

Hester and Bea recruited four other women to help with the plan. All the ladies were well known to one another and all had placed themselves in jeopardy many times before for the cause of freedom.

The six women went to the jail the next day, carrying baskets of food and clothing for the incarcerated Fanny
Blackburn. Fanny's husband had already been taken to Detroit because of the fear of violence. Since the passage of the Fugitive Slave Law many recaptured slaves had been freed not by the law, but through "rescue." Most of the nation's rescue attempts were patterned after the celebrated "Abolition Riot" which took place in a Boston courtroom in 1836. On that July day, Eliza Small and Polly Ann Bates were charged with being the runaway slaves of a Mr. John B. Morris, a resident of Baltimore. As Morris's attorney addressed the judge, the spectators rushed the bench. In the ensuing chaos some of the Black women in the crowd whisked Eliza and Polly out of the courthouse. There were reports that one of the women involved, a Black laundress of "great size," immobilized one of the court's officers by throwing her arm around his neck. The subjects of the rescue, Eliza and Polly were never found, and much to the South's chagrin, none of the individuals involved in the melee were ever charged.

Hester supposed Sheriff Lawson wanted to avoid a similar incident and so sent Fanny's husband off to Detroit where the security could be better maintained. Yet, there was a large mixed-race crowd gathered outside the building to protest Fanny's jailing. Hester nodded to those she knew, Branton Hubble in particular, then she and the ladies made their way to the door.

The slave catcher Shoe stood in the entrance. "Where do you think you're going?"

Bea said, "To visit Mrs. Blackburn. We have the sheriff's permission."

Sheriff Lawson appeared in the doorway behind Shoe and the crowd let out a hail of catcalls and derisive words as he stepped out. Most of the people in the county respected Martin Lawson. Hester had never known him to be unfair to anyone, but in this instance folks were incensed at the role the hated Fugitive Slave Law forced him to play. Lawson seemingly ignored the angry calls and slurs as he turned his wintry visage on Shoe. "Back out of the way, and let the ladies inside."

Shoe looked as if he wanted to protest the order but the stare of the big constable appeared to quell Shoe's dissent.

As they entered the small cell, Fanny Blackburn gave them each a weak smile of greeting. In response, each woman gave her a strong hug.

Lawson had followed them in, so Hester turned to him and asked, "Sheriff, may we have a bit of privacy so Fanny can put on the clean clothing we have for her? We'd also like to visit with her a while, with your permission."

The sheriff looked around at the six women. Everyone met his eyes easily. He finally nodded his approval. He left them and closed the door.

The cell's solid wood door had a small panel at the top which could be slid open so the sheriff could check on his prisoners. Olympia Reed, one of the women in Hester's party, had been especially recruited for this afternoon's visit because of her height and girth. Once Lawson closed the door, Olympia stood in front of the panel, effectively keeping anyone outside from seeing what was about to transpire.

Hester and the others moved quickly. Fanny was made to change clothes with Hester. Both women were dark-skinned and approximately the same size. Hester donned one of the dresses from Bea's basket. Kate Bell, the hairdresser and owner of the boardinghouse, had also been recruited for this visit, and she took out her combs and hastily fashioned Hester's hair into the two thick braids Fanny always wore coiled and pinned behind her ears. While Kate worked on Hester, Bea quickly undid Fanny's braids. When Kate was done, she then gave Fanny Hester's signature knot at the nape. The two women sat side by side on the small cot. The transformation had taken only minutes.

Bea looked between Hester and Fanny, then said, "Close enough, wouldn't you say, ladies?"

All nodded their agreement. They then had Fanny don Hester's bonnet. No one would know Fanny was not Hester when they made their exit as long as they moved quickly and no one outside got too close.

Kate said, "Now, we have to wait for Hubble's signal. Pray this works."

The signal was heard moments later as rocks and stones began to pelt the walls of the small building. From inside, the ladies could hear the angry roar of the crowd and Shoe's shouts for help. They heard the sheriff shouting and then a rifle shot. Suddenly, there was the sound of a key in the lock and Hester quickly laid down on the cot and turned her back to the door. Bea hastily threw a thin quilt over Hester to further disguise the switch.

The door flew open and Hester heard the sheriff urging the women to leave. Outside the roar had grown meaner, and the rocks and stones pelting the building sounded like hail.

The sheriff yelled, "Let's go ladies! Out the back way, so you won't be hit by the stones!"

The door closed and Hester sighed her relief. She was alone.

The sheriff dispersed the crowd a bit after, but he didn't discover the true identity of his prisoner until supper time. Hester, still feigning sleep, felt the sheriff touch her shoulder gently and ask, "Mrs. Blackburn, would you care for some supper?"

It was the moment of truth. Hester slowly rolled over, then sat up. "Good evening, Sheriff. I do believe I am hungry."

Lawson stared for a moment, then said, "Aw, hell, Miss Hester, what are you doing here?"

Hester smiled. "Sheriff, you know we couldn't let Shoe send Fanny Blackburn south."

He shook his head as if he knew the joke was on him. "Shoe's going to bust a gut."

"Maybe it will be fatal."

The sheriff shook his head again and a half smile appeared. "You know I've always liked you because you remind me so much of your father, David. He would have done something like this."

Then his words and manner softened. "He and I grew up close as brothers. I believe a part of me died when your aunt Katherine told me he was lost to us. I missed him so much, I tried to reclaim a little of him by naming my son after him."

Hester could feel his emotion tug at her own. She replied softly, "Everyone says the same thing—how much he is missed. I'm poorer for never having known him."

"He was a special man. You have his eyes. However, eyes or no, I'm going to have to arrest you."

"I know."

"The trial probably won't be anytime soon, providing the missing property is ever recaptured, so until then, I'm confining you to your home. No more troublemaking until after the trial," he warned. Smiling, he added, "Or at least keep it to a minimum."