Love and War: The Coltrane Saga, Book 1 (11 page)

BOOK: Love and War: The Coltrane Saga, Book 1
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“No, I’m not. I don’t aim to be pushed into doing anything I don’t want to do, particularly something I don’t believe in. I’m staying out of this war.”

Kitty’s mind was in a whirl. She loved Nathan, and she was sure that he loved her. But what Poppa said made sense. Nathan should stand up to his father. He was a grown man. It was an insult for him to expect her to sneak and meet him. She wasn’t guilty of anything. What had she done except stand up for something she believed in? If Aaron condemned her for that and felt it made her unworthy of his son, then damn him.

And if Nathan didn’t love her enough to stand up to his brutish, powerful father—then damn him, too.

But the thought made her blink back tears.

Damn
me, she thought,
I love him.

Chapter Seven

Christmas came and went. It was a bleak time, with the talk of war gloomily overshadowing any attempt at holiday festivities. Kitty did not hear from Nathan, nor did she go to their meeting place in the woods on the chance that he might be waiting for her there. She needed time to think, to sort out the turmoil bubbling within her.

On New Year’s eve, 1861, the citizens of Wilmington, North Carolina, worried over the war threats, wired the Governor of the state, John W. Ellis, to request permission to seize Forts Caswell and Johnston, located near the mouth of the Cape Fear River. John Wright brought this news from town, as well as the information that Aaron Collins and his men were down in Wilmington, waiting for the Governor’s permission and threatening to help seize the important installations even if it did not come. Governor Ellis refused the request on the grounds that he had no authority to grant it, and the word from Wilmington was that the people were not about to be discouraged. They felt the seizure of the forts was important to their city’s welfare and safety.

John brought home a newspaper that had a story in it about a man named W. W. Ashe heading up a commission that had visited the governor personally in Raleigh, begging for permission to take over the forts. Again, he had refused.

A few days into the new year, Aaron Collins and his band of men came home, only to rush back to Wilmington when word arrived that a United States Revenue Cutter with fifty men and eight guns was on its way to Fort Caswell. The next day, the forts were seized. When Governor Ellis learned of the action, he demanded the immediate evacuation of the forts, condemning the action as being taken without authority of law.

“I reckon Aaron will stay home and mind his own business for a while,” John said, thumping a copy of the
Goldsboro Weekly Telegraph
that he was reading by firelight. Kitty sat nearby, listening intently. He said, “The Governor got in touch with President Buchanan and told him the whole story, and the President has sent word back through his Secretary of War, Joseph Hilt, that he has no intentions of garrisoning the forts in North Carolina. I reckon Aaron and his blood-thirsty bunch will have to wait a while longer before they have their precious war.”

Lena put her sewing down and sighed dramatically. “John, why do you criticize Aaron and the other men who only want to protect our people? Just because you’re a coward, you don’t have the right to condemn those who have some guts. You just lack courage.”

“Courage?” He threw back his head, laughing loudly. “The real test of courage, woman, is to live—not die. Believe me, it takes more courage for me to live standing up to what I believe in than it would for me to take up arms and fall in behind Aaron Collins as he goes searching for blood.

“Besides,” he went on, “why do you think Aaron refuses to join with the Goldsboro militia group—the one they call ‘The Goldsboro Rifles’ that Dr. Craton organized? Because Aaron is blood-thirsty and ruthless and wants to run things his way, that’s why.”

“He’s always been so charming, how can you say that?”

He snorted. “That was an act. Aaron Collins has always been ruthless.”

“What do you think, Katherine?” Lena looked at Kitty. “After all, he’s the one who forbid his son to court you, thanks to your unforgivable behavior at his party.”

“I’d rather not talk about that.”

“I can see why you wouldn’t,” she sniffed, “You’re as big a disgrace as your father.”

“Now if you want to call someone gutless,” John folded the newspaper, “put the name on Nathan Collins. He’s too weak to stand up to his father and court the girl he professes to love.”

“Poppa, please.” Kitty stood up, not wanting to discuss such things. “Let’s not talk about this anymore.”

“Nathan is respecting his father’s wishes,” Lena snapped, “and I can’t say as I blame him, even if I would’ve liked to see Katherine marry up with someone from such a fine family. I can see why Aaron wouldn’t want him courting Katherine after the way she behaved…”

John and Kitty were no longer listening to her. The sound of hurried footsteps across the creaky wooden front porch had made John step to the mantel and reach up to get his musket.

There was a quick pounding on the door. “See who it is,” John ordered Kitty in a whispered voice. “Then step back.” He leveled the musket.

Kitty opened the door to find Jacob standing there with wide, frightened eyes, twisting his old straw hat in trembling fingers. Nodding to her, then to Lena, he looked past them to where John was lowering his gun. “Mastah, you better come…”

Without question, John left the room and returned quickly with his coat. Taking up his gun once again, he started to follow the old man. Kitty asked them where they were going, but her father refused to answer her questions as he followed Jacob off the porch and around the side of the house.

The door closed, and Lena took up her sewing again. “Oh, let them go. Who cares what they do? I stopped caring long ago.”

There had been other nights when Jacob came for John unexpectedly late at night. Sometimes, Kitty suspected from the sounds that awakened her that John slipped out after everyone was supposed to be asleep. But something about this night, the frightened look in Jacob’s eyes, alarmed her.

Kitty walked toward her room. “I think I’ll go to bed. I’m very tired tonight.” She closed the door and in the darkness stripped off her muslin dress and changed quickly into overalls and an old shirt. Then, slipping on a warm jacket, she moved quietly to the window. Would it open without squeaking? She was in luck. It slid open, and the blast of cold January air made her shiver. Stepping over the sill and onto the ground below, she closed the window behind her.

She ran through the inky black night toward the rear of the house. The barn loomed darkly in the distance. If her father were there with Jacob, they had not lit a lantern.

She moved closer, then something caught her eye, off in the distance, toward the woods beyond the barn, where the trees and uncleared foliage ran thickly through a swamp. She had been there but once or twice, due to the danger of quicksand and moccasins. But now she could see a bobbing light disappearing into the denseness. Why did Jacob take John there at this time of night? Her skin was prickling apprehensively as she turned in that direction.

She ran, stumbling several times over mounds of dirt or roots, trying to keep up before the light disappeared altogether. She hated being so sneaky, but with so much turmoil going on in their lives, she felt a driving need to follow her father and find out what was going on. Despite the closeness they had always felt, there had been times when she had the feeling she did not know everything about her father’s life. This proved that her feelings were correct.

She reached the swampland, groping slowly in the darkness that engulfed her. Once her foot slipped into something cold and mushy, and she stifled a scream. Jacob and John’s movement had slowed, as they, too, worked their way through the intricate surroundings.

She heard the sound of voices and slowed apprehensively. She was still too far away to make out what they were saying, but she could hear a woman’s voice, then the soft mewing sound of a baby crying. She had to get closer. A few more steps, very quietly, very slowly.

“…you gave me no warning, Willie,” that was John speaking, sounding upset. “No arrangements have been made…”

“You’ve helped others that ran away with no warnin’… Mistah Wright, you gotta help Jenny and me. Mastah Collins, he going to take me to the block tomorrow and sell me, and I want to be with Jenny and our baby. We’ll never see each other agin. Taint fair…taint right. We going to run away even if you don’t help us…”

“Now hold on.” Her father’s voice again. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t help you, did I? Just give me time to think a minute. If I can get you to Raleigh, there are people there who will take over and get you North, but how much time do we have? Jacob, how long have they been hiding here? Has anyone had time to miss them yet?”

“Nawsuh. Willie, he come to my cabin, and I went and fetched you. They ain’t been gone too long.”

The baby started to cry again. Kitty had quietly moved closer, and in the dim glow of the lantern she could see Jenny, the slave girl whose baby she had delivered, pulling out a brown-skinned breast, pressing her nipple against the baby’s eagerly waiting lips. He began to suck, and the crying stopped.

So it was true, Kitty thought feverishly. The accusations about her father were true. He
did
help runaway slaves. He
was
connected with the underground. But didn’t he know how dangerous this was? she thought with gritted teeth and clenched fists. If Aaron and his men ever found out for sure, especially now, with the war hanging over them, men distraught and anxious…

“All right,” John was saying. “I’ll do everything I can. This swamp runs clear to the Neuse River, about ten miles or so, and I keep a flatboat hidden there. Jacob and I will take you there, and then I’ll let Jacob take you on to Raleigh. You’ll have to travel at night and hide out during the day. Jacob knows who to find once you get to Raleigh. You’ll be safe once you get there, if we’re lucky.”

“Oh, bless you, bless you…” Jenny cried. “Willie and me, we love each other…”

“Now there’s no time for thanks,” John said gruffly. “Jacob, go back to your cabin and get a sack of corn dodgers and a water pouch. Jenny’s nursin’ that baby and she’ll need to keep her strength up. It’ll take you two or three nights to make Raleigh.”

Jacob began moving through the brush, passing within only a few feet of where Kitty pressed herself against a tree trunk.

“As soon as he gets back, you can be on your way.”

Kitty wondered what she should do. Her father would be angry because she was spying on him, so she couldn’t step out and let herself be seen. If she tried to go back to the house now, she might be heard. There was nothing to do but wait in the murky darkness for them to leave, then find her way back.

Suddenly, a dog started barking. Killer! John had brought his old hound with him, and Kitty panicked as she realized he had picked up her scent and was alerting them to her presence. But no, she realized with fright, the barking was fierce, angry—certainly not the way the old dog would bark at
her
.

“Get down,” she heard her father command just as footsteps and horses began crashing through the brush.

Every nerve in her body screamed with terror at the first sight of the torches being suddenly fired up against the black sky. She could see the white-hooded men on foot—on their horses, carrying their torches and clubs and guns, as they formed an inescapable circle around her father and the two slaves.

The Vigilantes! Dear God, no, the terrifying, feared-by-all Vigilantes had found them!

Frozen in terror, Kitty heard a man’s booming voice, “Well, we finally caught you in the act, you traitorous son of a bitch. All this time, we’ve never been able to catch you…”

John fired—and Kitty opened her mouth to scream just as a sweaty palm was mashed over her face. Twisting with her free hands, she fought to see what was happening, her blood flowing so rapidly through her body that she became dizzy. The old gun had misfired. Hooded men were grappling with her father, forcing him to the ground.

Kitty watched in horror, still fighting the hand that held her silent, as the baby was snatched from Jenny’s arms. Willie started fighting but crumpled to the ground as a club came crashing down over his head. Jenny fought to get to her baby, as she, too, was felled by a swift blow from another club.

“Get them on those mules and take them back,” someone was yelling. “Tie the baby on top of them. That troiblemakin’ slave will be sold tomorrow, for sure, and we’ll take the baby away from that woman to teach her a lesson…”

Kitty twisted around, eyes bulging with shock as she realized it was Jacob holding her, tears streaming down his face in the flickering fire from the torches that reached the spot where they hid in the thick bushes. “We can’t help him now,” he whispered. “They’d hurt us, too. We can’t do nothin’ but hide here and pray they don’t see us.”

Killer had tried to defend his master but was struck with a club and lay somewhere still and quiet. There was no sound from John, either, as the men hoisted him atop another mule and began moving through the night, disappearing into the swamps.

Kitty was no match for the old negro’s strength as he held her fiercely against his chest. She had to help her father. They would kill him now, for sure! And what about Jenny’s baby? What would they do with him? They had to go for help! They couldn’t stand by and let this horrible thing happen.

After what seemed an eternity, Kitty was released, and she whirled on Jacob screaming, “How could you, you old fool? How could you stand here and not help him after the kind of a friend he’s been to you and your people? Are you crazy? Don’t you know those murdering cutthroats will kill him? They caught him helping runaway slaves, for God’s sake. You know they’re going to kill him!”

“They’d kill us, too, missy. I’d have gone to help him if I hadn’t seen you hidin’ here after I sensed somebody was around and came back to warn Mistah John. But I had to keep you still. Those men would do somethin’ terrible to a white woman interferin’ in their business. Your daddy would’ve wanted me to keep you out of this. Now I gotta fetch Killer and see if he’s dead, and I gotta get back and find help for your daddy, and you have, too.”

BOOK: Love and War: The Coltrane Saga, Book 1
10.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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