Wild, Beautiful, and Free(58)

“How far will you go?” he finally asked.

“If he is not at the river, then I will take her into Kentucky. There is a Union camp nearby. But if I must, I’ll travel as a white woman and pretend Dorinda belongs to me. I’ve done this before.”

“The devil you have.”

“I can do it, sir.”

He came back to me. “But you would return alone.”

“I will use the carriage circuit, a road well traveled. I will ride where there are people.”

“Promise me to return in a week—”

“I cannot. We will be too slow, and I don’t know what the road holds for us.”

Mr. Colchester moved closer. “When do you go?”

“Early tomorrow morning, sir.”

He went to a desk, took out paper, and began to write. “Carry this letter with you. It says I am your employer. You may need it if you have to go into Kentucky and anyone questions your freedom. And you must have some money.”

He pulled a wallet from his pocket and offered me bills totaling about twenty dollars. I wanted to protest—he paid me a salary, after all. But I thought better of it. Some circumstance might require a large sum. A bribe perhaps. I could give most of it to Dorinda for her journey with Mr. Louden.

While he wrote, I took the opportunity to voice what was most on my mind. “Mr. Colchester, you may have joined the militia before I return.”

“It is possible. My plans are not yet made.”

“It is my understanding, sir, that your plans include—” I paused. “You are going to be married?”

He stopped writing, put down his pen, and looked up at me. “Yes. What then?”

“In that case, sir, I should move into the village, even if the cottage is not rebuilt.”

“To get you out of my bride’s way, I suppose?”

“Sir, I am not a servant, and she may protest that I have no role in the running of the household.”

“True!” he exclaimed. “It would not fit in with her orderly ways.” He looked at me some minutes.

When he didn’t continue writing, I finally asked, “Before you go, sir, could you make arrangements for me? I have a cot in the schoolroom. Perhaps a room can be added. Or I could stay above one of the stores?”

He nodded and finished his writing. “I will take care of it. But I do hope to take leave of you properly before I go off to war.”

“I shall pray for that, sir.” I took the money and the letter and folded them carefully. “But for now, farewell. Thank you.”

“You say farewell now? But you go tomorrow?”

“Yes, sir, as early as we can.”

“You will not join us after dinner?”

“No, sir, I must prepare for the journey.”

“It is to be farewell.”

“Yes, for the present.”

He said nothing else, and I grew impatient. I wanted to pack and rest. I had no time for his confusing behavior. I bowed slightly and hurried away.

That night I opened the trunk I kept stored in my closet; the trunk I had arrived with and not touched since; the trunk that held, in a small compartment, the pistol Miss Maude had given me. I remembered how to clean and load it, which I did, but I wished I had the time and a place to practice firing it. I would have to trust my memory. Next, I wrote a letter for Dorinda to give to Calista. It was a joy and a relief to know she would read the words. I thanked her for the locket and told how I agreed with her that I should stay away from Catalpa Valley for now. But I begged her to write to me if she could get anything across the battle lines. Most of all I was grateful at the prospect that I might see her again and come home at last.

Dorinda and I started our journey at first light. We took a leisurely pace so as not to call attention to ourselves. But if anyone had noticed us, they would have seen what we appeared to be: two women in a small single-horse carriage talking pleasantly with each other. There was much about Catalpa Valley that I still wanted to know.

“How is Madame?”

“She’s getting on. I think the news has got her down. If you ask me, I’d be surprised if she lasts another four or five years.”

“Does she mention me?”

“Lawd, no. ’Bout had a stroke when Miss Calista said what she said in front of all them people.”

“I really have been dead to her, I suppose.”

“Humph. She done brought all her suffering down on herself. She knows it too. That’s why she can’t look no one in the eye.”

“Dorinda,” I asked quietly, “did she have you whipped too?”

She sat up straighter in the seat and didn’t answer.

Instead she wanted to know if I was happy at Fortitude Mansion and what sort of a person Mr. Colchester was. I ran a hand down her back. I knew where the marks would be. But she kept talking.

“Templeton say he a good man.”

I nodded and held the reins tighter in my fingers. “He is kind. He treats everyone well. I knew everyone in the village were once slaves. I didn’t know right away that he brought them all up from Louisiana.”

In such conversation we passed our time. Despite our slow pace we were able to gain the northeastern portion of the river by the end of our second day. I procured lodgings for us with Dorinda posing as my servant. The next day we continued following the river.