Promise Bridge (8 page)

“Mama was never the same, and every day she would have to face the missus, who was pleasured by my mama’s misery. But when the dogwood started to bloom, so did Mama’s belly, and when the missus took notice, her nervous fits started up all over again.

“Mama was banned from the big house and forced into the fields. The night the baby came, Massa was in Alabama doin’ business with kin. It was stormin’ fierce, like the night you came up to the peak, so when Missus burst through our door, I knew the devil had come for a visit.

“Mama held tight to the baby girl until the missus walked over and lifted the blanket. After one look at the baby’s caramel skin and brownish blond curls, the missus tore the chile from Mama’s arms. Mama sprang on her before she reached the door. Two overseers beat my mama to the floor. I can still see the hate in the missus’s eyes when she said, ‘Throw this child in the river. Then whip this wretched wench until the only creatures that desire her flesh are the maggots and worms feasting on her lifeless body.’ From that night on, Marcus and me is all that’s left of our family.” Livie wiped away tears. “My mama’s name was Willow. Ain’t that pretty?”

Some voids are not meant to be filled by words. The sympathy and horror in me was impossible to give voice to, so I leaned in close to Livie and pressed my forehead to hers, allowing the silence to speak for me.

“I think survivin’ hardship gives us a special way of lookin’ at things,” Livie said, taking my hand in hers. “We ain’t as blind as most folks, and maybe we ain’t as afraid neither. We know our heart is strong enough to keep on beatin’, no matter how many times it gets thumped on.”

It was the first time anyone acknowledged my inner strength and resilience. But Livie was right: My hardships changed me, as they did her, and our destiny along with them. I could not help believing we were meant to be joined somehow; but I shuddered to imagine where our shared destiny would take us.

Chapter 9

B
y the end of the second week, Livie’s wound had healed and melded almost as securely as our new bond. However, she still struggled with a good deal of pain throughout her hip, and although her stamina had improved, a pronounced limp remained. One afternoon as we warmed stew over the fire, we heard a distinctive coo, much like that of a mourning dove. The woeful note was too near and persistent to be of natural origin. Livie jumped to her feet and stumbled toward the shadows before I could tell her that Colt and I often mimicked the birdcall when we were children, using it as a secret warning when something was afoot. I had not heard the signal in years, but I recognized it at once.

“No need to hide, Livie. It’s just Colt.”

Colt had kept his distance from the peak, and when I questioned him about it, he said there was no reason for him to check on Livie as long as I reported no problems. He felt it was best for him to stay close to West Gate, where he could keep Twitch busy and within sight. So, as he ducked through the cave wall, I had a sinking feeling his visit had purpose beyond the obligatory.

Colt brought along bread, apple butter, and cider. He handed Livie the food before settling next to the fire. I had an intuition when it came to Colt’s moods, and it was clear he was troubled.

“How are you feeling, Livetta?”

“Fit enough to run, if need be.”

“Now, Livie, don’t assume the worst. Colt did not come up here to be rid of you. He knows the fate you would encounter in your vulnerable condition.”

All sound stopped and hung in the air around us as Colt lowered his head to study his boots rather than look Livie in the eye. I grew alarmed at his hesitation.

“Tell her, Colt. Tell her you would never do such a thing. . . . Would you?”

“It’s not as simple as you present, Hannah.”

“Colton Reynolds! You coldhearted—”

“Hush up, Miss Hannah,” Livie said, coming around the fire to stand next to me. “Mista Colt is right: ’Tain’t so simple. Maybe it’s time I find my own way north.”

“Marcus said he would come back for you, Livie. If you leave now, even if you made the journey safely, you may never find each other. He is all the family you have.”

Colt placed a firm hand on each of our shoulders. “Now, hold your tongues long enough to hear me out. Let’s sit and I can tell you what is on my mind.”

He steered us to our seats by the fire and settled on the log pile opposite us. “The way I see it, we are facing a serious problem. Augusta will be back at Hillcrest in two days, and Livetta cannot stay up here indefinitely without being detected.”

“Why not?” Livie countered. “I is doin’ jes’ fine here. Never ate so good in all my life. Back with Massa, there was times when my belly was so empty, I could have ate the soles off my shoes.” Livie laughed as she stuck out her heels to show off the frayed rags tied around her feet. “But I never had a bite’s worth of sole to eat.” Livie chuckled so hard she had to hold her hip to keep from crying in pain. I, on the other hand, was mortified at how much this poor girl had stacked against her. Yet from the smile on her face, you would never know it.

“Livetta,” Colt continued. “Once Augusta returns, Hannah will be restricted from running up and down the mountain to feed and look after you.”

“I can fend fo’ myself till Marcus gets back.”

“I don’t think the two of you understand how long he will be, if ever he does return.”

“Colt . . .”

“I am being practical, Hannah. Their chance of making it north alive is slim enough, but his chance of returning here is even slimmer. I am sorry, Livetta, but it’s the cold, hard truth.”

I reached over and patted Livie’s hand. “Marcus will make it back, Livie. I just know it.”

“Fine, then,” Colt pressed. “Let us say he makes it back, against all odds. Are you aware of how much time will pass while he is navigating such a journey?”

It was a thought I had yet to consider. Even with a reasonable amount of education and some travel experience, I had no sensible estimation of how far the journey was to the North. And with Livetta’s limited exposure beyond the boundaries of plantation life, she had less understanding of it than I. My wordless stare cued Colt to continue.

“Well, it’s not like taking a five-day carriage ride to Cumberland Gap. They are traveling by foot . . . in the dark . . . guided only by the stars of a clear night. We have no way of knowing what hardships they will face along the way, but you can be sure there will be plenty. Once they are north, they still must go far enough to find a place where they are truly safe. And don’t forget the winter months, when it’s nearly impossible to travel. So, the three of us must be prepared. If Marcus succeeds where most fail, it could be a year or more before he steps foot on Echo Ridge again.”

Livie’s hand tightened over mine with the realization provoked by Colt’s words. I lowered my head to spare her my sullen change of expression. The thought of Livie leaving was unbearable, yet I realized keeping her hidden and safe was not possible. Crazy thoughts filled my head, like hiding her in the vacant cabin at Mud Run or stealing a wagon and taking her north myself. Or maybe . . .

“I have an idea” popped out of my mouth. “I shall buy her!”

Livie took her hand from mine and leaned her blotchy elbows on her knees. Pressing her forehead into the palms of her hands, Livie shook her head from side to side. “Massa won’t never partake in such a deal. He be afraid the others would think I got over on him and make him look a fool. If he finds out I am here he will grab me up fo’ sure. Massa would rather tan a colored hide to save face, even if it means gold coins left on the table. He will gladly pay fo’ the pleasure of vengeance on the poor soul who got over on him. Massa burned the feet of his prize field hand when he ran off to be with his woman after their chile died while birthin’. Massa made him stand in boilin’ water clear up to his knees. That sorry slave was never good fo’ nothin’ again. It’s a mighty spiteful streak that drives a man to render the best of his lot worthless. Worst be told, it took nearly two years fo’ that poor soul’s agony to end. One night, he got his hands on a suckering knife and slit his own throat. Marcus said they found him with a smile on his face.”

If Colt was as mortified as I, it was not reflected in his stony expression. He simply propped his boot on a rock in front of him and tugged thoughtfully at his ear. “It would be hard explaining to Augusta,” he mumbled to himself. “But maybe there is something to be made from Hannah’s idea.”

“Gracious be, Colt,” I said with piqued curiosity. “What are you contemplating?”

“Well, what if I took a day trip and returned with Livetta in hand? I could profess to own her.”

“Is it possible, Colt?”

“I think it’s worth attempting. Livetta may have a chance if our explanation is believable and the papers look authentic.”

I shuddered at the boldness of the suggestion. “Do you know what you are saying? We would be bringing a runaway right under the nose of Twitch and Aunt Augusta. It’s entirely outrageous.”

“Exactly,” Colt said with a sly grin. “A plan so outrageous no one would suspect it. They would have no reason to question my truthfulness. I will wait for Augusta’s return. If I ride in before the dust of her carriage has time to settle, the commotion and fanfare of her arrival will keep scrutiny at a minimum.”

“The risks are enormous.” I put my hand to my breast in hope it would slow my surging heart. I was terrified of the consequences likely to rain down on us if we failed; however, I was equally intrigued by the possibility of Livie staying at Hillcrest with me.

“Of course it’s a precarious choice,” Colt stressed. “But I believe there is greater risk in roaming the countryside with your injuries. What do you think, Livetta?”

Livie had licked her plate clean and set it aside. She stretched her stiff legs in front of her and gently tested their mobility as she considered her options. She cocked her head toward me and drew in a deep, confident breath, punctuated with a nod of her head.

“Well, as sure as flies sit on a dead mare, the likes o’ me is likely to be boiled one way or the other. But so far, Miss Hannah’s done right by me. Now, ya’ll may think Marcus is a know-nothin’ fool fo’ sayin’ he’s gonna come back fo’ me, but my brother’s word is stronger than a hundred-year-ol’ oak. So I’d best stay put. Anyway, if there’s boilin’ to be done, I jes’ as soon it be done here with you than out in the woods with strangers.”

Colt stood and brushed the dust from the back of his pantaloons. “There’s much to be done. Hannah, see to it that Livetta crosses the river tonight at the Horse’s Bend. Can you swim?”

Livie shook her head with some hesitation.

“It will be a clear night with the glow of a full moon, so it won’t be a blind crossing. Once you are on the other side, head downstream using the heavy trees along the river for cover. You must move with extra caution when you see the candlelit windows of town on the opposite bank.”

“How on earth is Livie supposed to make it across the river and downstream with a lame hip? It’s much too dangerous.”

“I know this is not an easy venture, but it’s the only way. Livetta, you must keep moving as long as possible under the cover of night, but when you see the first hint of daybreak, you should stop and stay out of sight until darkness comes again. South of town, you will come to three large boulders wedged side by side, each a different shade of gray. I will wait for you there. Now, I better get on back to West Gate so I can set in motion some practical reason for making a short trip.”

Colt walked toward the cave entrance and then turned before exiting. “Hannah, after tonight, it is important you are seen in your normal routine at Hillcrest. When Augusta returns, simply let things unfold as they will.” Colt then directed a serious gaze toward Livie. “Livetta, do the best you can. I shall wait two nights for you. If you have not arrived, I will assume you were delivered a different fate.”

The ticking mantel clock taunted me as I pushed my uneaten pork chops around my plate. My mind was crowded with details to sort through and ready for Livie’s journey, but my nonchalance was a necessary part of the charade. Esther Mae peeked through the door to see if I had finished my meal. “Lordy, Miz Hannah, you will be paler than a mornin’ glory on a rainy day if you don’t eat some supper. Miz ’Gusta will have my hide if you take sick.”

“Don’t fret, Esther Mae. I am a wee bit tired is all. Excuse me while I take my plate to my room. I shall retire with the birds tonight.”

The belligerent sun hung low in the evening sky for what seemed like an eternity, illuminating its perverse pleasure in making me wait. With growing anticipation, my mind played out what soon would transpire in the shadowed moonlight. I could follow the path to the peak with my eyes closed. It was as natural to me as geese winging through a crisp autumn night. However, traversing the angled cliffs to the river was territory I had yet to navigate in the dark of night. But even that did not rattle me as much as the thought of what would happen once we came upon the river. Unable to wait any longer, I headed for the cave.

Livie and I cleared away all evidence of her stay. We burned the quilts and pine bed in the fire pit and stacked the unused logs against the inside wall, as if they’d been stashed by a hunter for another day. When all looked undisturbed, we flopped on the ground and rested, side by side in anxious stillness. Finally, Livie heaved a long, jittery sigh.

“I ain’t had no cause for swimmin’ in a mighty long time. There was a fair-sized pond at the edge of Massa’s land where we cooled off when our heads gots’ta spinnin’ in the summer heat. Marcus showed me how to swim ’cuz he said someday I might need the know-how. But ’twas long ago, and I don’t have much kick in this shot-up leg right now.”

I wanted to reassure her, but more importantly, I wanted her to be prepared for what the Red Hawk River demanded. The Horse’s Bend was a half-mile stretch of water between two fierce sets of rapids north of Echo Ridge. This slow and steady stretch of water provided Livie with her best chance at crossing. Still, the Horse’s Bend had its challenges, as evidenced in its name. Legend had it that when the untamed mountain region was settled, a band of renegade Shawnee Indians chased a group of Lutheran missionaries to the river’s edge. When the missionaries rode their horses into the deep current of the Red Hawk, they were sucked under midway across the river. The missionaries eventually pulled themselves up on the banks of what is now Echo Ridge, but not one of the horses ever resurfaced.

With that in mind, I used a stick against the dirt floor to sketch the flow of the river so Livie could picture in her head what she would face once she hit the water. “Now, don’t forget,” I said, circling a spot on the craggy diagram. “We will hike to the bottom of the first set of rapids, and you will enter the water here. You must swim hard, steady strokes toward the far shore as the current moves you downstream. If you swim fast enough, you will reach a large boulder called Turtleback Rock, which curves above the water halfway between the first and second set of rapids. Grab on to it and catch your breath. When you are ready, you can start a paddle sprint across the far section of the river. When you reach the other side, follow Colt’s instructions downriver where he agreed to meet you. Then the second part of our plan will be put into motion.”

Contrary to my earlier wish for sunset, now I prayed the sun would freeze to a standstill and remain orange in the sky rather than sink away and lead Livie into uncertain darkness. Betrayed by the natural flow around me, I watched the sun defy my wishes and disappear behind the indigo mountains on the western horizon.

Livie reached into the satchel tied around her waist and removed a strip of stained chambray cloth. I recognized it as part of her brother’s neckerchief, used to stop her bleeding the day she was shot. She smoothed its length and then tied it to her ankle.

“Fo’ luck,” she said, looking up at me. My stomach twisted, knowing our time together was slipping away. She then pulled a tin cigar box from her satchel and handed it to me. “Take this, and keep it safe until I return.”