The Fiddler's Secret (16 page)

“Where else can he be? Somehow we have to get him to a place where he's safe.”

Ahead of Libby lay the edge of the river. Keeping her gaze on the rocks, she moved on. Soon the pounding rush of the waterfalls drowned out even Caleb's shouted words.

Caught by the swiftly moving current, huge logs rode free, tumbling over the falls to the calmer water below. Caleb turned upstream, following the edge of the river.

Before long they reached a large sawmill. Great piles of logs filled the land along the river. Nearby stood a smaller gristmill. Outside, horses stood harnessed to farm wagons while their owners waited for their grain to be ground.

Only when they stepped behind a pile of logs did Caleb stop. Peering around one end, he looked back. Libby turned with him.

At least two blocks behind them, the Winslow House rose
higher than the surrounding buildings. Caleb was right. If Riggs was still standing on the front steps, he was out of sight.

As Caleb faced upstream again, he dropped Libby's arm. Caleb moved ahead quickly now, thinking only about finding Jordan.

Across the river on the west bank was another sawmill and gristmill. Still an infant village, Minneapolis was no match for the sprawling village of St. Anthony, which lay along the east bank of the falls. With its many frame houses built from lumber sawed in the mills, St. Anthony looked like views Libby had seen of small New England cities.

By now the panic in her stomach had settled into a tight, hard knot. “If Jordan is here, where can he be?”

Caleb shook his head. “Most anywhere. St. Anthony has over four thousand people!”

“If only we had some way to know which direction Jordan went,” Libby answered. “Peter gave us a secret sign. Do you think Jordan would remember?”

They began by searching for his boot prints, but the muddy land was filled with countless tracks. Then, near a bridge to Nicollet Island, Libby saw what she hoped for.

“Look!” She pointed down. “Peter's fish! And the head of the fish points toward the island!”

After crossing the bridge to the island, they checked the ground again. This time a fish pointed off to the right. As with the first fish, it had been drawn in a hurry.

From one secret sign to the next, Libby and Caleb followed Jordan. Sometimes the fish were easy to find. Other times they were half hidden, as if drawn while Jordan knelt beneath a bush. His trail headed up the island past a house, then looped
around, coming back to a wooded area close to the falls.

When at last they caught up with Jordan, he had found refuge in a clump of trees. Watered by the spray of the rapids, the leaves were so thick that they hid Jordan completely. Without the sign of the fish, they might have missed him.

As Jordan looked up and saw them, he trembled. “If Riggs can find me here—here in Minnesota Territory—where can I be free?” Gone was all the confidence that Jordan usually displayed.

“You'll be okay,” Caleb told him.

For Jordan, who had grown used to hiding from slave catchers, there was something much bigger. “But my family sent me here to spy out the land. Where can they be safe?”

“We'll figure it out,” Caleb said, trying to encourage him.

They decided to try for help at one of the mills. Walking back, Caleb found a farmer who planned to drive across the prairie to St. Paul.

Soon after Caleb returned to Jordan and Libby, the farmer drove close to the Nicollet Island bridge and stopped his horses. When Jordan started to stand up, Caleb said, “Wait for the signal. He'll get water.”

Libby was curious. “How did you know who to ask?”

“I prayed,” Caleb told her. “Then I started asking questions. This man took me aside, as if he guessed what I needed.”

The sun had passed its highest point when the farmer picked up a bucket from the back of the wagon. At the river he filled it with water.

“That means there's no one watching,” Caleb told Jordan as the farmer started watering his horses. “When you get to his wagon, there will be two burlap bags. Crawl into one of them
and pull the other over your head.”

Following Jordan, Libby and Caleb sat with him in the back of the wagon. Surrounded by the high board sides, they rode to St. Paul.

“Did Riggs see you?” Libby asked Jordan when he pushed the burlap bag away from his face.

“I don't know,” he answered. “I took one look at him and took off like a bolt of lightning.”

The moment they reached the
Christina
, Jordan headed up the stairs to the top deck. With slumped shoulders and bowed head, he leaned back against the wall of the texas. He looked as discouraged as Libby had ever seen him.

When Peter joined them, Caleb used the slate to explain all that had happened. “Jordan used your secret sign to help us find him!”

“He did?” Peter was delighted. Then he saw Jordan's face. Reaching out, Peter put his hand on his shoulder and asked, “Why are you afraid?”

Jordan tipped back his head and opened his eyes. Without turning his head, he glanced sideways at Peter with a look that asked, “What did you say?”

Peter repeated his question. “Why are you afraid?”

For a few minutes Jordan sat there, still without speaking. Then he slapped his knee and laughed.

“I forgot!” Again Jordan laughed as though the biggest joke was on him.

Peter looked puzzled, but Caleb kept writing.

“When I was a slave,” Jordan said, “I dreamed about being free. I dreamed about bringing my family to freedom. Now that I'm free, I have to do what Mr. Thompson said.”

Jordan clapped the ten-year-old on the back. “Thanks, Peter. You just reminded me that I have to live freedom!”

A few minutes later Libby found Pa in his cabin. He was eager to talk about the land he found. As Pa hoped, it was on a bluff, had a good view of the river, trees, and acres for farming. He had already signed the papers to buy it.

“Have you told Annika yet?” Libby asked.

Pa shook his head. “I've been watching for her. I can hardly wait to tell her.”

Seeing her father's excitement, Libby suddenly felt confused. During recent months she had longed for a special woman in her life. Someone she could talk with, not just now and then, but forever. Someone who would be a wife for Pa, a mother to her. But now Libby wondered,
What will happen to me if Annika and Pa do get married?

Libby tried to push her worried thoughts aside.
Of course Pa will still love me
.

But Libby's uneasiness wouldn't go away. Still feeling concerned, she went out on the hurricane deck. While she, too, watched for Annika, Libby noticed an artist set up his easel at the edge of the river. When Libby went down to watch, Caleb found her there.

“Let's go visit the Democratic and Republican conventions.”

“Will they let us in?”

Caleb shrugged. “We'll find out.”

Already the artist had sketched the outline of the
Christina
. The tall white steamboat with its many decks and railings shone in the sunlight. Behind the boat, the high bluffs on the other side of the river ended in a bright blue sky.

As Libby and Caleb started past, the artist turned. For a
moment he studied their faces. “Do you live on the
Christina
? Would you like to be part of the painting?”

“Would I!” Libby exclaimed. She wanted any chance she could to see an artist work.

Caleb started to slip away, but the artist called him back. “You too. How about it?”

It wasn't hard to guess how Caleb felt, but Libby was already in place. The artist moved them around until they stood with the
Christina
in the background. As the artist painted, a crowd gathered around him. The artist kept on, looking up only enough to study Libby and Caleb again.

At first Libby stood without moving. She found it fun to be part of the painting. Before long she felt the heat of the afternoon sun. Then she started to itch. The minute she tried to scratch her nose, the artist called out, “Don't move!”

Just then Libby looked beyond the artist. Annika was walking across the levee with Oliver White. Feeling sick, Libby nudged Caleb. Trying not to move her lips, she whispered, “There's Annika!”

Tall and handsome, Oliver White looked down at Annika, his blue eyes smiling into hers. Annika looked up, talking and laughing as if with a good friend.

“Uh-huh,” Caleb said, not moving his lips at all.

Libby's stomach tightened.
What if Annika loves Oliver White? What if he upsets all of Pa's hopes and dreams?

“Hold it!” the artist called out. “Don't change your expression. I'm almost done.”

Using all her willpower, Libby forced herself to be still.

“Thank you, thank you,” the artist said as he finished up. “I'm traveling up the St. Croix River to Taylors Falls. When I go
into Wisconsin, this painting will help me get work.”

Against the white background of the
Christina
, Caleb's blond hair stood out. The artist had caught the best of Caleb—the way he held his head when he was sure of where he was going. More than once Libby had seen that look when Caleb took on a dangerous role in the Underground Railroad.

Libby felt even more surprised by the way the artist painted her. In the warmth of the day, soft wisps of hair curled around her face. Something in her face caught Libby up short. From her own training as an artist, Libby knew what it was.

The unhappy look she once had around her eyes was gone.
I care about people now. I care about being part of a never-give-up family
.

As Annika and Mr. White reached the
Christina
, Peter came down the gangplank with Wellington trailing behind him. Taking one look at Mr. White, the dog planted his spindly legs and barked.

When the man tried to pass him, Wellington danced around, blocking the way.

Trying to ignore the terrier, Mr. White started once more for the gangplank. Wellington growled. Mr. White stepped back and glared at Peter. “Get that dog away from me!”

Peter didn't need to hear the man's words. Reaching down, Peter scooped up Wellington in his arms. “I'm sorry, sir,” Peter said politely, but Libby knew him well.

Peter feels the way I do. He doesn't want Annika and Mr. White together
.

Afraid for Pa and all that could happen, Libby hurried past Annika and Mr. White. When she reached the hurricane deck, she knelt down at the railing that overlooked the main deck. It
wasn't long before Libby saw Annika. In each hand she carried a carpetbag.

Uh-oh!
Libby thought.
She's ready to move out
.

Libby stood up, ready to run after the teacher. Then Libby noticed Pa. For a moment he talked with Annika. Taking her carpetbags, Pa led her toward the stairs.

By the time they walked up two flights to the hurricane deck, Libby was kneeling out of sight. Closer to the wall of the texas, she could hear every word they said.

When Pa and Annika sat down in two chairs, Libby risked a look around the corner. From her place on the floor of the deck, Libby saw their backs and the sides of their faces. Unless they turned around, they wouldn't see her.

Pleased with her front row seat, Libby settled in to watch and listen.

CHAPTER 13