Midnight Rescue (4 page)

“Afraid so,” Caleb answered.

“He scares me,” Libby said. “He really scares me.” Forgetting where she was, Libby moved. As the wagon shifted, her stomach bottomed out. Then the wagon settled again.

After what seemed like ages, Jordan dropped the end of a lead rope over what had been the side of the wagon. “You needs to hang on to this so we can help you out.”

Caleb gave the rope to Libby. “Tie it around under your arms.”

With shaking fingers Libby knotted the rope. When she was ready, Jordan spoke again.

“Take it slow and easy-like,” he said. “Me and Nate is holdin’ the rope, but you gots to crawl out.”

“You first, Libby,” Caleb said. “Stay on your hands and knees.”

The moment she moved, Jordan and Nate tightened the rope. As Libby crawled across the boards that had been the side
of the wagon, her full, ankle-length skirt caught on a splinter. When she freed the cloth, she moved into the opening. There she took one look down.

Only two feet beyond where she knelt, the ground dropped away to nothing. Far below, the houses seemed like tiny toy buildings.

Libby’s muscles tightened. Forcing herself to move on, she set down her right hand. Just beyond her fingers, the ground crumbled, then gave way. When she heard pebbles land far below, Libby again froze.

“Keep movin,’” Jordan told her. The rope tightened around her, but Libby could not pick up her hand.

“Put your right knee forward,” Caleb said from behind. But fear held Libby as if the rope were pulling her back instead of forward.

His voice calm and steady, Caleb spoke again. “Put your right knee forward.”

This time Libby could move.

“Bring up your left knee,” Caleb told her.

Again Libby obeyed. Movement by movement, Caleb told her what to do.

“Keep going,” Caleb encouraged her whenever she hesitated. “You’re almost there.”

At last Libby crawled around the front of the wagon to the solid ground where Jordan and Nate stood.

The moment Libby untied the rope, Jordan returned it to Caleb. Her knees still weak with fright, Libby sank down on safe ground. Her arms were shaking, and her teeth chattered with nervousness.

As soon as Caleb said he was ready, Jordan and Nate drew
the rope tight. Bracing their feet, they called to Caleb. “C’mon out!”

Through the broken pieces of wood at the front of the wagon, Libby saw Caleb’s head. The instant he moved, the wagon shifted. Pulling hard on the rope, Jordan and Nate stepped back.

Again Caleb edged forward. Again the wagon shifted. Dirt and small stones slid out from beneath the boards and rained down the side of the bluff.

Libby leaped to her feet. Filled with panic, she cried out, “Caleb!”

CHAPTER 3

J
ust a foot of dirt remained between the front of the wagon and the edge of the bluff. Again Jordan and Nate moved back, bracing their feet on solid ground. Standing behind Nate, Libby took up the end of the rope. With all three of them hanging on, Caleb crawled out on the narrow strip of ground. Moments later he reached safety.

Only then did Libby draw a deep breath of relief. When she looked around, she saw the horses farther down the road. Instead of a lead rope, reins stretched between them and a tree. No longer able to run, Bob tossed his head, his eyes still wild with fear.

Like a matchstick, the pole at the front of the wagon was broken into pieces. The front boards were also shattered beyond use. Seeing them, Libby remembered Nate. “Did you jump?” she asked him.

He nodded. “About two seconds before we hit.”

A moment later Libby saw people coming from all directions to help them. While some of the men rubbed down the sweating horses, others worked together to turn the wagon upright. When they found that two of the wheels still rolled,
they pushed the wagon across the road, lodging it against the upward side of the bluff.

With Nate leading the horses, Libby and the boys once more started toward the riverfront. They had walked only a few steps when a farmer stopped to ask if everyone was all right. As soon as Nate tied the lead rope for his horses to the end of the farmer’s wagon, he climbed up to the high seat. Libby, Caleb, and Jordan sat down in the wagon bed.

Leaning against one side of the wagon, Libby covered her eyes with her hands. She wanted to blot out all memory of the runaway horses. Yet, even with her eyes closed, she saw them again. Just thinking about their frantic race down the steep hill, Libby began to shake.
I never want to ride in a wagon again!

Then, as she felt the boards beneath her, Libby knew she was doing just that. Embarrassed by her weakness, she forced herself to look up. “What happened?” she asked Jordan.

“The hold back broke,” he said.

“The hold back?” Libby didn’t know what he was talking about.

“A strap,” Jordan explained. “It keep the neck yoke tight to the horse.”

“The neck yoke broke too?” Maybe that was one of the lurches she felt.

“Yes’m. The wagon started runnin’ up on the horses. The singletrees—”

“Singletree?” Libby was lost again.

“A crossbar behind each horse,” Caleb said quickly. “They’re part of the wagon.”

Jordan grinned. “When them singletrees start slappin’
against them horses’ heels, whoo–ee! Them horses spooked!”

Libby wasn’t sure she understood it all. Already she felt her bruises, but she also felt grateful that she was alive. Still, she was curious. “Jordan, how do you know so much about horses?”

Jordan straightened and lifted his head in the proud look Libby had come to know. “That’s why I has value,” he said.

“Value?”

Jordan glanced toward Nate and the farmer. When he spoke, his voice was low. “That’s why I is worth a big reward. I knows more about horses than any other colored boy I know.”

“Is that right, Jordan?” Even Caleb looked surprised. “How did you learn?”

“Before my daddy got sold away he taught me. He said, ‘Jordan, you listen up now. You learn everything I teach you ’cause if you has value you has an easier life.’” Jordan shook his head. “Someday when I git my family free, I is goin’ to prove my value. I is goin’ to show my daddy how much he taught me.”

“I thought you didn’t know where he is,” Libby said.

“I ain’t got no idea where he is. But when Momma and my sisters and my brother is free, I is goin’ to find him.”

The moment they reached downtown Stillwater, Caleb hunted up the village marshal to report the escaped prisoner. The marshal was glad Caleb had told him. Yet he shook his head at still another escape.

When Libby and the boys returned to the waterfront, they found the steamboat they had seen from the top of the bluff. A smaller boat than the
Christina
, it was the kind that usually traveled up and down the St. Croix River. They had no way of knowing if it had gone into St. Paul. Nor could they tell if
the boat had picked up passengers who might know the latest news and remember Jordan.

When it was time to say goodbye, Nate grinned at Libby. “If you come back to Stillwater, I’ll give you another ride,” he said.

As Libby shuddered, Nate’s eyes grew serious. “I’m sorry, Libby. Really sorry about what happened.”

Only then could Libby smile. “It was a great view, Nate. Thanks for trying. I know it wasn’t your fault.”

“Next time I’ll take better care of you,” he promised.

As Libby looked up, she saw Caleb watching them.

When Libby went on board the
Christina
, her dog, Samson, met her at the top of the gangplank. A big black Newfoundland, he had white patches on his nose, muzzle, chest, and the tips of his toes. Dropping down on her knees, Libby gave him a big hug.

As if he sensed that she needed comfort, Samson reached out his long tongue and tried to lick her. Though Libby edged away from his slobbering, she felt better.

Soon the
Christina
put out into Lake St. Croix. As the boat steamed upstream, Libby, Caleb, and Jordan watched from the main deck. The water was crowded with the logs Libby had seen from the bluff.

Two miles above the village, lumbermen had built a large boom—a barrier made of a chain of floating logs. Stretched between long islands and the high bluffs on both sides of the river, the boom caught logs coming down the St. Croix River. Once collected, these logs were measured and sorted according to the owner’s mark on the end of each log.

Some of these logs went to a Stillwater sawmill. Others floated downstream in rafts.

In the open water below the boom, men balanced on the spinning logs. Wearing boots with sharp spikes in the sole and heel, each of them held a long pole called a
pike
. Its point tapered down into a two-inch thread that looked like a screw. Using the pikes, the men guided the logs into long strings that would then be made into rafts.

“Why are all the men wearing red shirts?” Libby asked.

“If a man falls into the river, it’s easier to see him,” Caleb explained.

Soon the
Christina
nosed into the riverbank below the boom. On the sandstone bluff above the boat was a large cookhouse where the Red Shirts had their meals. According to Caleb, the cooks often fed six hundred men a day.

In the side of the bluff and below the cookhouse was a cave used to store food and supplies. The minute the
Christina
’s gangplank went down, roustabouts started unloading cargo. As the laborers carried supplies into the cave, Libby hurried up to the hurricane deck. There she knelt down at her favorite spot for watching what was going on. From behind the railing she could see the front part of the main deck, though two decks below.

As Samson dropped down beside her, Libby ran her fingers through the long hair at the back of his neck. When she scratched behind his ears, Samson’s mouth stretched wide, as though trying to smile. Again he seemed to sense how shaky Libby still felt.

One moment Libby felt glad for the way Caleb had watched out for her. The next moment she trembled just thinking about
how close they had come to the edge of the bluff. It reminded Libby of the important promise she had made only a few days before. Going beyond all her fears, she had asked God for His love and forgiveness.