"So what did you do?" asked Noah with a look in his eyes suspecting that a young man so in love would have chosen the girl over anything else.
"Well, I didn't have much choice," Jimmy replied as his eyes grew distant once again with the memories of Delia and his younger self.
"I don't understand," Delia repeated for what must have been the third time at least. "You said we were leaving Monday."
"I know what I said. But things changed," Jimmy told her yet again. She was a smart enough girl but he was starting to lose patience with this conversation. It hadn't been easy for him to make this decision and her wounded look and repeated questions weren't helping things at all.
"I don't…"
"Understand?" he finished for her. "I know. I'm trying to explain it to you, Delia. If I tell Pa I can't, he'll want to know why. I been raised for this my whole life. I won't have an answer but the truth and you and I both know I can't tell him that. And if I say I'll do it and then don't show…well, those people are going to die. You don't know what they go through to even get this far. I have to do this."
"But we were going to be together, Jimmy. We were going to get married."
"We still are. Just later. If we leave either the next night or Wednesday, we'll still have a near full moon to run by. It'll be fine, Delia. I promise. You still trust me, don't you?"
"I can't believe you're choosing a bunch of slaves over our future, Jimmy."
"And I can't believe you just said that," he countered. "In fact, I'm going to choose to believe that you're just upset and that you aren't really suggesting that two days is worth human beings dying. 'Cause if that's how you really feel, Delia…I'm glad I found out now and not once I was married to you."
"Well, maybe I'm glad to find out that total strangers are more important to you than I am!" she snapped back before storming off.
Jimmy watched her leave and a part of him wanted to go after her and give in to anything she asked but he couldn't do that. A man didn't do such things. A man stuck to his convictions. And if she couldn't appreciate what he had to do as a man then maybe she didn't really want him as her man. It was a sad thought but an honest one.
He sighed. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. She was supposed to maybe be sad but tell him she understood and that she trusted him to take care of them. He wanted her to see how his concern for these strangers spoke of his sense of responsibility, his integrity. She saw none of that.
In a huff, he stomped off toward home and even snapped at poor Celinda. He felt badly about it later though and decided to help her with the dishes to make up for it.
"Miss Delia! Now why ain't you come down for dinner yet?" Jessamine's voice carried into Delia's room as the woman made her way up the stairs.
"I'm afraid I'm not very hungry this evening, Mammy."
"Not even for roast beef and glazed carrots?"
"Not even for that," Delia sighed. "I'm sorry you went to such trouble for me."
"You know it ain't no trouble taking care of you, Miss Delia," Jessamine said simply. "You's my pride and joy, little girl. But I'm starting to worry for you. It ain't like you to just not eat. If this is about that boy…"
"Mammy," Delia interrupted. "This is not about Jimmy. Not really. I thought it was when I came in but it's not. It's about me. I'm terribly shallow. I don't think it's a very becoming trait. Jimmy called me on it and I don't think I reacted very well."
"What you mean you's shallow?"
"I mean…I've never really considered the world outside my genteel little experience. I've failed to look at things right under my nose because they might make me uncomfortable."
"Like what, Miss Delia?"
"Like your life, Mammy. I know you care for me. I can't doubt it and I love you…I think I might love you more than Mother. You've been the one who was there to rock me through nightmares and sing me to sleep and teach me to make a pecan pie like hardly anyone else. But…you never had a choice and I'm not your child. I…I don't even know…did you ever have a child of your own?"
"Miss Delia," Jessamine began. "There's no good can come of digging into the past, child."
"You did, didn't you? Was it a boy or a girl? What happened to the child? Did your own baby get to fall asleep in your arms?"
"I had a little girl," Jessamine said reluctantly. "Pretty little thing, she was. I just been moved to work in the house about the time she was born. Your sister, Elizabeth was just a little thing then. I took care of my little Nettie myself 'til she was near a year. But then, I needed to give all my attention to Miss Elizabeth. My sister took care of her then. When your daddy allowed Mr. Montgomery to buy some of his slaves, my sister Tillie was one of 'em. He let Tillie take Nettie with her. Mr. Montgomery wasn't a bad man and he wasn't far away neither. Sometimes one of his men would come to our land and bring me news."
Jessamine looked up to see the tears streaming down Delia's face.
"Now don't you fret like that, Miss Delia," she chastised warmly. "I's alright and Nettie growed up just fine."
"I can't believe he did that to you," Delia sobbed. "All you did for us…for me. How hard you worked and how you loved us…and he…he took your child from you. Worse…he sold her…like she was a cow or a bushel of cotton."
"He didn't do no such thing, child. You don't talk about your daddy like that. He's been a good master to me. I made the choice to send her with Tillie. It wasn't easy to see her go but I knowed it was right. Got hard sometimes when Miss Elizabeth and Mr. Ephraim was being so snotty. But then you came along. Sweetest baby that ever there was. Still a sweet girl."
"I'm not really all that sweet, Mammy," she sniffled. "I've never given a thought before to…what it must be like. I'm sorry."
"What has that boy done to you, Miss Delia? He done robbed all your joy from you!"
"Jimmy's done nothing but open my eyes to the world, Mammy dear. There is bliss to be had in ignorance but it isn't real joy."
Delia looked up sharply, her eyes wide and filled with urgency.
"I have to see him. I have to apologize. I have to tell him I understand. He has to know that I see now how right he is."
"Delia, it's dinner time," Jessamine began to protest.
"Please, Mammy, I know I am asking far too much but can't you make some excuse for me? That I needed some air? That…I don't know what…tell them I'm having female trouble and feel unsettled…I just need to go to him."
Jimmy was just finishing up the evening's chores when he thought he heard something moving outside the barn.
"I already said I was sorry, Celinda," he called. "I didn't mean to snap at you like that."
A shadow graced the doorway of the barn and Jimmy lifted his eyes to see that it was not his sister coming out to tell him how terrible he'd been to her. It was Delia.
"Oh, it's you," he mumbled.
"I don't suppose you even want to look at me now, do you?"
He wanted to look at her alright. He wanted to do more than look. He wanted to kiss her and hold her tightly and run his hands over her curves. Being angry at her didn't change a single thing as far as that was concerned. And he was angry. And hurt. And still hopelessly in love with her. So he stood there glaring at her and saying nothing.
"I don't blame you," she said softly. "I was terrible to you. And I was wrong. I am sorry. I can't believe you've ever wanted a thing to do with me for as stupid as I must seem to you. I can't believe how lucky I am to be marrying such a fine man. You're going to change the lives of those people. You're going to give them life in ways their very parents couldn't. I'm so proud of you."
"I don't think I understand what you're trying to tell me, Delia."
"You go ahead and do what's right and then, if you still want me at all, you tell me when and where and I'll be ready to go with you. I only hope you can forgive me for how awful I was to you."
"Thought you'd be too mad at how selfish I was being to want to still marry me," he said still not quite getting what was happening.
"I shouldn't have been angry to begin with, Jimmy," she said sweetly. "You are only trying to make the world a better place to live. Someday we'll be raising our own children in this world and you'll make it so much better for them. I was the selfish one. I am so sorry. Can you forgive me?"
"Yeah…I'm sorry too. I got a little nasty with you. I didn't have to be like that."
"I don't blame you a bit," she said closing the distance to him looking more like a predator than the innocent and charming girl she usually appeared to be. Jimmy swallowed hard and resisted the confusing urge to take a step back away from her. "If anything, the powerful way you spoke to me only made me want to marry you even more."
"It did?" he asked weakly as her arms draped around his neck.
"Mmm-hmmm," she hummed as she twirled her fingers in the hair that fell over the back of his collar. "Why, all I can think about is that soon I'll be all yours."
She kissed his neck lightly.
"My heart."
Another soft kiss pressed to his jaw.
"My soul."
Her lips pressed warmly to his cheek.
"And my body," she breathed as her lips captured his, open and demanding. He returned the kiss matching her fervor and hunger.
Delia's body pressed tightly to his own and it was the first time Jimmy wasn't ashamed of the obvious response she caused. She didn't seem embarrassed either as she held her body more firmly against his conspicuous need. Her words sank in at last and he groaned at the thought that soon she would give herself over to him completely.
Before Jimmy could fathom what was happening, Delia was pulling him toward a pile of fresh, sweet straw and then tugging him down into it with her.
"What happened next ain't none of your business," Jimmy said gruffly to those assembled around him.
"James Hickok," Rachel said in shock.
"Ain't like that, Rachel," he explained hollowly. "It's just…it's private, you know?"
"Of course, sweetie," she said patting his hand like she was comforting a small child. "How about I scrounge us up some lunch and we let Jimmy be for a little while?"
The others pushed themselves up from their places on the floor of the bunkhouse porch and went off to see to various chores that could be done in the time it would take for Rachel to put together some sandwiches and make up some lemonade. They were all quiet until they knew they were out of earshot. But one man lagged behind.
Jimmy felt the presence even with his eyes closed but he was surprised when it was not Kid but Noah standing before him.
"Need something, Noah?" Jimmy asked trying to sound annoyed but not coming close. He was far too tired for his usual front.
"Before…It wasn't fair of me to assume you'd choose…I'm sorry, Jimmy," Noah said finally settling on a straightforward apology. "I should've known you better."
"Oh, I tossed around every way possible that I could get out of it without revealing my secret," Jimmy smiled bitterly. "I ain't proud of it at all. But what I told her was the truth. If I told my pa that I couldn't help those people, I would have to have one hell of a good story for why. And I didn't have any good story at all…except the one thing I couldn't tell him."
"There's lots of boys in that position might've told their pas that they'd do it and then just not show."
"Yeah, well, they didn't have my pa," Jimmy said flatly. "And they hadn't seen what runaways go through just to get as far as Kansas. What I told her about that was true too. They'd've been killed for sure without the help I'd be giving them. I couldn't let human beings get killed like that…or put back in chains. I…well, I just couldn't. Not sure I'd like to meet the man or boy who could."
"That's probably why I like you so much," Noah said offering a wide and open smile. "That and your sparkling personality."
"Don't you have something else to do?"
"I'm going, I'm going," Noah said waving his arms as he walked away. "Don't sell yourself short though, Jimmy. You made a tough choice and you chose well."
Jimmy watched Noah walk away and then muttered, "I wish I could be as sure of that as you are, Noah."
Once he was alone on the porch, Jimmy closed his eyes again and allowed himself to think back to that evening when Delia had come to apologize. He hadn't lied. The conclusion that Rachel had jumped to at first was a false one. But plenty went on in that pile of straw all the same. Their hands roved where they pleased and, while clothes were not shed, they were unfastened to allow curious hands access to the fevered flesh underneath.
He'd never, in all his days, forget how soft her skin felt beneath his work worn hands or the pleasured sounds his touch elicited from her. It was both animal and divine what took place between them. In all of the boasting talk he'd heard from his brothers, he never knew this raw emotion was at the heart of all of this. It was heady, intoxicating even. Or maybe it was just Delia that made him feel that way.
In time their passions calmed and he held her tight to him in the dimming light in the barn. She was warm and soft and holding her was right. Everything they did was right and had they done more that night it would have been right too. There was something sacred in the near dark of the barn that night.
The quiet that fell between them was pristine and perfect. It was warm and comforting and full of a promise that didn't need to be spoken, just understood.
A hand on his shoulder brought Jimmy out of his thoughts about that simple and pure evening spent in the arms of his lovely Delia. Rachel didn't deserve the scowl he gave her. It wasn't her fault. It was his.
She met his scowl with a sympathetic smile and offered him a plate of food and a cup of lemonade. He took both wordlessly. As he slowly chewed the first bite of his sandwich, he felt the eyes on him. When he looked up, they all looked away but he understood. He couldn't very well take them all this far into the story and stop there.
And suddenly he didn't want to stop either. He wanted—no, he needed—to tell the rest of this story. Even though it would mean that they would know. They would know the terrible person he was. They would know the secret he guarded most closely. They would turn from him but he needed to say it and damn the consequences.
"So, I guess I ought to finish telling this story," he began. "Since you're all here and everything."
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," Kid piped up.
"I know. I think I actually want to now."
Jimmy took a few swallows of his lemonade and then began to speak again.
"So, we shifted our plans a little around what I needed to do. Actually, I figured it would be better this way. We could leave the next night and still have nearly the light and if we went a different direction than I'd led those escaped slaves, no one would even take note."
"Jimmy, there's horses riding in…and a wagon too," Celinda informed him.
"Probably our guests," he said. He wasn't just to be in charge of leading them away, as it turned out, he was in charge completely at home as well. His father was away. He went to mysterious meetings sometimes. Jimmy suspected that, if he was going to stay around, that he would be let in on the mystery soon. But he wasn't staying so it didn't matter much.
"You got something for them to eat, Cel?" he asked her as he headed for the door, grabbing his pistol as he went—just in case. "You know them poor folks probably ain't had hardly anything for a while."
"I'll get something and get to cooking some more too."
"Bring it to the cellar," he instructed before slipping out the front door to meet the new arrivals.
Jimmy walked out into the yard holding the gun protectively in front of him but then relaxed when he recognized the faces of men who had brought runaways to the house in the past. He holstered the weapon and stuck his hand out to the first man he came to.
"It's good to see you, Mr. Clayton," he said. "Pa's away. He left me in charge. You can move them right into the cellar. I'll follow you."
It wasn't a very large group but then they had learned over time that a smaller group was safer to move than a large one. Jimmy watched as the five souls were led to the cellar under the barn and then went into the cellar himself with two extra lanterns. He nodded at Mr. Clayton and the other two men as they took their leave. Four sets of terrified eyes turned to him. The fifth set belonged to an infant asleep in its mother's arms.
"I want to welcome you folks here tonight," he began trying to sound as calming as his father always did. "My name's Hickok. James Hickok but you all can just call me Jimmy. We're equal here so no need for being formal. I know you all must be exhausted from the trip and hungry besides. I hear my sister coming now with some food. There's plenty and there'll be plenty more. Don't be shy. You've come a long way but there's still a long way to go and you'll all need your strength."
He looked pointedly at the woman with the baby.
"Especially you, ma'am. You got to keep that babe strong too so he can see freedom."
The woman nodded with tears beginning to form in her large, dark eyes. Something about those eyes struck him as vaguely familiar. It was probably nothing more than the look he had seen in the eyes of all of those who'd come before. The cautious optimism. The desire to believe it could work coupled with the fear that they would end up dead or right back where they started. He crossed over to her and took a seat next to her.
"It's going to be alright now," he said softly. "I'll get you to the next stop. After that, there's more travel between stops but you'll be farther and farther from danger every time you rest your head."
He'd heard this speech a thousand times over the years from his father as he tried to comfort those who were losing hope or beginning to despair. His father had shared a good many useful words of wisdom through the years. Chief among them was that treating these weary pilgrims on their way to freedom with the respect due any other member of the human race was as important as moving them along safely. It didn't cost a thing to treat another with dignity but dignity in itself was worth more than gold.
"I can't even imagine what you've been through, ma'am," he went on. "But I will see to it you never have to again."
"Thank you, sir," the young woman responded. He felt it again. That feeling that somehow he knew this woman. He couldn't, of course, but it only grew stronger as he watched her protectively clutch her babe tightly to her.
"I ain't 'sir' neither," he said smiling at her. "Just Jimmy. I only call you ma'am 'cause it's how I was taught to address a lady…especially when I don't know her name."
She smiled at him cautiously and he could see the defenses rising in her. Kindness had probably not been offered her for its own sake. At least not from white folks. He decided to change the subject.
"Fine looking boy you got there," he said nodding to the child in her arms. "What's his name?"
"Jesse," she replied looking proudly at the bundled infant.
"That's a good strong name," he said. "The way you talk…you ain't from Missouri or Arkansas, are you? That's usually all we get coming through here."
She shook her head.
"South Carolina."
He began to wonder about what a small world it was. What were the odds? He wanted to ask where in South Carolina and then realized it didn't matter right then. Maybe before it was time for this group to move along he could ask her more, find out if she had known the Bell family. Still, he had to say something.
"I should apologize that you been taken this far out of your way. If you'd gone straight north, you'd be free in Canada by now."
"I came this way on purpose," she said cautiously. "I been trying to find someone."
"Someone in Kansas?"
She nodded.
"We just had a family move here from South Carolina a few months back," he said feigning nonchalance. The baby's name, where she was from…it couldn't be all coincidence. He didn't want to frighten the poor girl but he was becoming more certain by the moment who she was and who she was looking for. "You wouldn't be looking for the Bell family, would you? Or maybe for one of the slaves they brought with them?"
She nodded at him wide-eyed.
"Jessamine," he whispered more to himself than to her. She heard him all the same.
"You seen my mama?"she asked with guarded hope.
On the home stretch folks! The next chapter will be the last, I believe. So for those of you who think I never finish a story...well, you're wrong. I do finish them...sometimes!
And thank you so much Beulah for your eyes on this. I would not have been able to make this work without her. You're the best, kitten!-J
