Love Lasts Forever (11 page)

“Then, they weren’t referring to Thor,” Eva said quietly. “Could the strangers have been slave patrollers?”

His mouth tightened into a grim line. “You know I wouldn’t ask something like that.”

“You should,” she gently reprimanded. “Willow crosses two miles of woods between here and the Brown farm just to help me. If bounty hunters are roaming the woods looking for people of color, she isn’t safe. That should concern you some.”

He colored fiercely. “It does. I don’t want anything to happen to her, but no one said anything about bounty hunters or patrollers. They just said strangers, and that can mean anyone. Since people are starting to come to Brown’s meetings, I didn’t think anything of it. Willow, I can see you home—“

“That won’t be necessary. Miss Eva needs you,” Willow said. “Besides, I know a safe way to get home. Reverend Brown and I often change my route. I’ll let Mr. Thor know that you’re home and dinner is ready. Have a good evening.”

Before they could voice disapproval, she slipped out the door and headed for home.

* * *

The afternoon spent with Reverend Brown was grueling. The man whipped out the history of the abolitionists’ role in the Underground Railroad as well as key code phrases at a rapid-fire pace.

Thor concentrated hard to keep up. The impromptu class quickly reminded him of his first football practice with a real coach instead of Cal assuming the role. The immediate recognition of the similarities made the jargon easy to remember. He didn’t foresee any difficulties that would prevent him from assisting the reverend to the best of his ability.

Willow appeared.

Her sudden emergence was an instant distraction. Her gentle, melodious voice called out a greeting that drew his gaze to her. As she left the doorway of the barn and glided toward them, Thor instinctively realized she represented a powerful complication.

Thor swallowed hard when she reached them. “Hi, Willow.”

Her liquid ebony eyes darted once at Brown before her gaze settled on him. “Hello, Mr. Thor.”

Silent, forbidden thoughts languished between them. He intrigued her just as she fascinated him. Thor knew it. With every fiber of his being, he knew she found the draw irresistible but fought diligently to ignore the temptation. He waged against his primal impulses, too. What would happen when the fight left them and they were left alone? Could common sense defeat the inevitable?

Reverend Brown’s harsh cough broke the spell. Willow’s face tightened as she looked away. Thor drew in a ragged breath, riddled with irritation and frustration. Turning his back to them, he grabbed a nearby pitchfork and shoveled hay into the horses’ stalls.

“Olivia could probably use some help with the younguns. They’ve eaten, but I suspect there’s more that could be done to help them.”

“I understand,” Willow answered. “I have a message for him, and then I’ll go inside to help.”

Her light footsteps brushed across the barn floor like a quiet whisper. Thor stiffened when she reached him, and the heat of her body burned against his back. His knuckles became white as he gripped the pitchfork and faced her. “Is Eva still asking for me?”

Several wisps of jet-black hair escaped from the single braid hanging down her back and caressed her high cheekbones as she shook her head. “Not exactly. Mr. Anders is back, and he wants to meet you. I told him I’d tell you.”

“Thank you.” His tight expression relaxed into a smile. “Thank you for the message.”

“You’re welcome,” she returned with a soft curve of her mouth. “Dinner’s ready over there, too. It’s not much. Only rabbit stew, but it is filling.”

“Rabbit stew?” He cocked an eyebrow. Another of his grandmother’s concoctions came to mind, and his stomach unleashed a hearty growl. Chuckling softly, he rubbed his stomach. “That sounds tempting, but I aim to stay for the meeting. If I’m lucky, I suppose Anders will leave enough for a plate.”

“The meeting?” She directed her dark, questioning eyes to Reverend Brown. “There’s a meeting tonight?”

He pierced Thor with a hard stare of disapproval then he cleared his throat. “There is. Thor encountered a patroller while forwarding the baggage. It’s prudent that more guidelines are set forth. From now on, either Anders or I will escort you to and fro. These woods are no longer safe. Now Olivia is waiting, Willow.”

“I know she’s waiting.” Her voice was quiet. Her chin set into a stubborn line.

Dark lashes slipped over orbs that Thor noted were brimmed with hurt. He ached to comfort her but sensed anything he said would only fuel her pain. She knew the workings of the Underground Railroad, and he wondered why Brown excluded her from the meeting. From the series of questions that etched across her expressive beautiful face, he knew she wondered the same.

With determined strides, she spun from Thor and went to the reverend. Her husky voice stammered with disappointment. “Wh-Why didn’t you tell me about the meeting, Reverend? Why did he know and not me? I want to help, too. This is important to me.”

Reverend Brown rested his hands on her shoulders. He spoke to her in warm tones that hinted his superiority. “I understand that, but as I’ve told you before, your involvement must be kept to a bare minimum. Let’s not have this discussion again. Those children are waiting, and the light of the sun is slipping away. Don’t be disrespectful just because a stranger is watching.”

Willow’s throat worked as she swallowed down his words. Her humiliation drifted to Thor and sickened him. She left without looking back, and he didn’t blame her.

His regard for Brown diminished. Thor’s hand closed to a fist. The urge to strike out on Willow’s behalf gripped him. The pitchfork fell at his feet as Thor stormed from the stall. “You didn’t have to humiliate her,” he bit out. “She didn’t deserve that.”

Brown pulled a pouch from his coat pocket. He took his time as he filled his corncob pipe with tobacco. When he finished, he rolled the pouch up and stuck it inside his pocket. The pad of his thumb pressed the tobacco while he bored his steely green eyes into Thor. “You’ve known her for a little more than a day, and you’re telling me what she doesn’t deserve. Son, I’ve known her all of her life. I know—”

“I’m not your son,” Thor growled through gritted teeth. He jerked his head toward the door. “It doesn’t matter how long I’ve known her. She deserved a better answer than the one you gave her. You had no right to patronize her, either alone or with me as a witness. She wants to help. Let her.”

“I reckon you have all the answers, don’t you?”

“I know the difference between right and wrong,” Thor retorted. “The way you talked to her just now wasn’t right. She’s a woman, not a child.”

“A woman you say?” The older man’s eyebrows raised inquiringly.

Thor rolled his eyes. “Not that again. You made your feelings clear, and I agree. Nothing will happen between Willow and me.”

“I wasn’t referring to that,” Brown explained in a quiet voice. “I know she’s a woman, but she’s young. There are ways in the world that she doesn’t know a thing about. I ’spect Olivia and me may have been wrong to shelter her so, but the wrong was born of love, so we’ll have to answer to God for that.”

“Love? I find that one hard to believe.”

“I imagine you do,” Brown replied, “but consider this… What do you suppose would have happened if Willow had led those children here instead of you? Do you think that sour bellied marauder would have listened to her tale of rampaging Cherokee on the hunt for white men’s scalps? Do you?”

A stab of ice-cold fear pierced Thor’s heart and rendered him numb. His mind went crazy as images of alternate possibilities flashed in his head. Remembering how the bounty hunter’s eyes glazed over twelve-year-old Charity, the man would have drooled at the sight of Willow. If she had guided those children in place of him, the patroller would have taken all four of them back with him. No doubt the bastard would have brutalized both females along the way.

Another thought seized him. If he hadn’t traveled back in time and changed the course of events, Willow would have been with the children instead of him. The color drained from his face. He groaned. “Oh, God.”

“You understand.” Reverend Brown’s mouth set to a grim line. “I don’t speak harshly to harm her, but the less she knows, the better off she is. Maybe you’ve seen it. She’s headstrong and smart, and that can be an advantage. However, for her, until things change, it isn’t. I do what I do to protect her…from herself and anything else that’s liable to cause her harm.”

* * *

Reverend Brown’s words stabbed Willow’s heart. He was adamant about what role she took with the movement, but he had never shamed her. To have him do so in front of Thor embarrassed her. Her face grew hot with renewed humiliation. Pounding blood roared in her ears and tears stung her eyes. Willow blinked the offending moisture away, took a deep breath and entered the place she thought of as home.

A slight woman with fiery red hair and warm brown eyes welcomed Willow with a smile. “Hello, dear. You’re back just in time. Dinner is almost ready.”

“Thank you, Miss Olivia,” Willow said. “I’m not hungry. I hope you don’t mind if I excuse myself to assist with the baggage. The reverend said you needed help.”

“You look a little pale, and I’ve never known you to refuse chicken and dumplings.” Olivia left the kitchen and moved to stand in front of Willow. She pressed the back of her hand against Willow’s forehead. “Your forehead isn’t hot, but that doesn’t mean anything. Are you feeling under the weather? “

Willow shook her head. “No, I’m fine. I’m just not hungry is all.”

Olivia nodded slowly. “The food will be here for you whenever you’re ready for it. The children are resting. I haven’t time to see if I have anything that will fit them. Could you go through the trunk and take some things in there to them?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’d be happy to.”

Willow left her belongings in her room and then headed down the hall toward the bedroom the Browns’ shared. She searched through the trunk at the foot of the bed. After finding garments she thought would be suitable for the children, she closed the trunk and moved to the far wall. Her fingertips glided along the wooden partition until they found the faint break in the wall that disguised the hidden catch. Using her palm, Willow pushed against the secret hitch. The opening to the concealed room parted with a soft hiss, and she slipped inside.

The children jumped as the bottom of her shoes tapped across the hardwood floor. Candlelight flickered in the compact room, enveloping it in a dusky glow. Willow stepped closer to the burning flame and knelt beside the bed where the children lay. She gave them a tender smile and whispered, “It’s only me. I brought some clothes for when you continue on your journey.”

“We have to leave now?” the young girl asked.

Willow shook her head. “No, you’ll stay here for a few days to build your strength and what not. These clothes are for when you leave.”

The oldest boy took the garments from her and mumbled a barely audible, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Were you sleeping?” she asked.

This time, the smaller boy answered. “No, ma’am. The Missus told us to stay back here and be quiet. We’re tired, but we ain’t sleepy. Do we have to sleep now?”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Willow told him. “Would you mind if I sit here with you for a while and we talked?”

The younger children’s eyes grew large as if they wanted to say yes, but they didn’t utter a word. Instead, they looked at their older brother who sat quietly with his back against the wall. He gave a slight nod, and the girl quickly added, “We don’t mind.”

Willow brought a chair from against the wall and set it beside the bed. She sat down and laced her fingers together in her lap. “We didn’t have time for introductions before. My name is Willow. What’s yours?”

“I’m Charity,” the girl quickly responded. She pointed at her brothers. “This is Clay and that’s Nat.”

“Are you brothers and sister?” Willow asked, amazed by the younger children’s eagerness to converse. Nat was quieter than his siblings, but Willow sensed that he hung on every word.

“Yessum,” Clay responded. “We’re twelve and Nat is about fifteen or sixteen.”

Willow bit back a chuckle. “You say that like you’ve been asked that before.”

“Thor asked us—”

“Ssh!” Nat hit his brother’s arm. “You know better than to call a white man by his first name.”

Clay’s bottom lip poked out as he rubbed his arm. “He said we could.”

“White men say a lot of things. That don’t mean he means ’em. Look at what happened to Mama and Papa.”

Thor’s defense was on the tip of Willow’s tongue, but was forgotten at the mention of the children’s parents. She slid to the edge of her seat and leaned forward. “What happened to them?”

“Massa Henry sold Papa and Overseer Charlie whipped Mama to death,” Clay answered, his voice tight with anger. “Massa Henry say he never sell any slave, but he sold our Papa. He woulda sold us, too. But we ran.”

Willow’s throat constricted, and her heart convulsed in sympathy. A slave trader abducted her mother when Willow was a young girl. Hearing the galloping hooves of a stranger’s horse, Bessie instructed her daughter to hide underneath the porch while she went inside for her husband, Elijah’s gun. Bessie never reached the firearm. The wiry stranger tossed a rope around Willow’s mother and dragged her after him. Bessie fought hard, digging her heels into the ground. In the end, her fighting was in vain and the man disappeared with her.