On to Richmond (47 page)

Rose looked up as Moses moved through the woods toward her.  “Any luck?” she asked calmly.

              Moses nodded, his voice strong in spite of his obvious fatigue.  “I found a house,” he said simply.

             
Rose watched him, waiting for him to continue.  The day was chilly, but the sun had finally dried out all her clothes.  She had just finished braiding and coiling her hair.  Her coat, laid out on some rocks, would dry soon.  Moses had shucked his coat before going on his exploration trip.  It would soon be dry as well.

             
Moses plopped down on the ground beside her.  “I watched the people for a while.  I think we should ask them for help.” 

             
Rose felt a twinge of fear and then remembered her resolve from the night before.  “When?” was all she asked. 

             
Moses looked at her carefully.  “You doing some changing, Rose girl?”

             
“I hope so,” Rose replied calmly.  “My mama always told me hard times made you grow up.  I reckon she was right again.  I know I have a lot of growing up I need to do.”

             
Moses nodded.  “I reckon we all do.”  Then he settled down beside her.  “The family in the house is black folks.”

             
Rose looked up with excitement.  “That sure is better than charging in on white folks.” 

             
“That’s the way I figured it,” Moses said with a sudden grin.  “I’m hungry.  I don’t see any need to wait.”

             
Rose watched as Moses walked steadily up to the door of the little cabin.  He had insisted she stay hidden until he knew it was okay.  Suddenly she stood and walked quickly to join him.  He didn’t notice her until he was almost to the door.  When he did, he spun around with a protest on his face. 

             
Rose simply smiled.  “We’re escaping
together.
   We’re going to do this together,  too,” she whispered.

             
Moses looked at her hard for a moment then nodded.  With a deep breath, he raised his hand and knocked on the graying, wooden door. 

             
“Who be there?” came the sharp reply. 

             
Rose held her breath.  Would the code of the Underground Railroad work?  Or would it be their undoing?

             
“We are friends,” Moses replied. 

             
The door swung open slowly.  A large black man, wrinkled and gray, stepped out into the yard.  Carefully he looked around.  Then he looked them over, peering into their eyes.  What he saw must have satisfied him.  “Welcome.  I am a friend of a friend.  You two look mighty done in.  Come on in for a bite to eat.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

             
Rose smoothed down her dress one more time and patted her hair.  She knew her dress looked worn and old, but at least it was clean.   Moses was wearing a new shirt one of their new friends had found them, but his pants looked like what they were - refugee pants.  Fighting to control the butterflies in her stomach, she looked up at the three-story row house in front of her.  Moses, standing beside her, seemed just as nervous as she was.  Somehow, the thought comforted her.

             
“We can’t stand out here all day, you know,” she said teasingly.  She took Moses’ hand, and together they walked up the stairs enclosed by wrought-iron railing. 

             
Moses took a deep breath and raised his hand to the knocker.  He rapped it sharply three times and then stood back. 

             
Rose held her breath as she heard footsteps approaching the door.  “She’s home!” she whispered.  She had thought they might have to come several times before they caught her at home.  Their evening arrival seemed to be timed perfectly - unless of course it was one of her servants.  Then she remembered Carrie saying she had none.  Her thoughts were cut short when the door swung open. 

             
Rose stared at the attractive woman before them.  She was just the way Carrie had described her:  Tall with a regal bearing softened by light brown hair pulled back into a bun and laughing gray eyes.  Rose liked her immediately.

             
“May I help you?” the woman said graciously, not seeming to take notice of their worn condition.  She was both courteous and pleasant.

             
“Are you Abigail Stratton?”  Moses asked.

             
“I am,” she responded.  “And who might I have the pleasure of talking with?”

             
Rose stepped forward.  “My name is Rose.  This is Moses.”  She stopped, not knowing what else to say.  Finally she reached into her pocket and pulled out the letter she had kept protected for so long.  She held it out wordlessly.

             
Aunt Abby looked at Rose curiously but reached for the letter and opened it.  Quickly she scanned the letter and then gave a cry of delight.  “You are friends of Carrie Cromwell!  She has told me so much about both of you!”  She stepped outside and embraced both of them.  “Please come in at once.”

             
“Thank you,” Rose and Moses murmured at the same time as they followed the glowing woman into her immaculate home.  Carrie had promised them she would give them a warm welcome.  Their fears had been pointless. 

             
In moments they were seated in her parlor.  “First things first,” their hostess announced.  “I find Mrs. Stratton much too big a handle for anything but a business environment.  Will you please call me Aunt Abby?  Anyone who is a friend of Carrie’s is a friend of mine.  And I practically feel that I know you both.”

             
Rose smiled.  “We’d like that,” she paused and then added softly, “Aunt Abby.”  She could feel tears building in her throat.  Aunt Abby was so much like her mama.  Oh, the differences were obvious, but it was easy to recognize the same caring heart and the same willingness to give and love.

             
Now Aunt Abby turned her attention back to the letter she had read so quickly.  Then she looked up with a frown.  “Carrie wrote this letter on October 1.  Today is October the 29th.  It has taken you quite a while to make your way here.  I take it there were difficulties?”

             
Moses nodded.  “I guess we ran into our share of them.”  He filled her in on the details leading up to where they had crossed the river after losing their guide.  They laughed together over Carrie’s acting with the Confederate captain and shed tears together over Mike O’Leary’s death.

             
“And when you crossed the river?  What did you do then without a conductor?”

             
Rose spoke up them.  “We were blessed enough to find another conductor for the Railroad.  A former slave by the name of Isaac Waters.  He convinced us it would be too hard to go over land with winter approaching.  I’m still not sure how he arranged it, but we’ve only had to walk from the dock down on the end of Washington Street to here.  The rest of our trip has all been on water.”

             
“They were able to secure you passage on a big boat?”

             
“I wouldn’t exactly call them big,” Moses said with a smile.  “Most of them were rowboats.”

             
Aunt Abby gasped.  “You came all the way up the Chesapeake Bay and the Delaware River in rowboats?”

             
“Yes,” Rose said calmly.  “And we made many wonderful friends along the way.  One man would take us a day or so north; then another would pick us up.  We had quite a few days when we had to be put up while we waited for our next conductor, but we were always well fed and cared for.”  Then she smiled.  “Not that I wasn’t glad to finally reach Philadelphia.  I have had quite enough of boats for as long as I live.”  She saw no reason to tell Aunt Abby of the long, bitterly cold days on the water.  Or the days when waves threatened to overturn their tiny crafts.  They were here.  That was all that mattered. 

             
Freedom had beckoned.  They had answered its call and had done just what her mama would have told them to do: Going around every obstacle, embracing every hard time as if it were a friend carrying them to their final goal.  They had persevered.  And they were stronger for it.  Rose knew she was not the same young woman who had left Cromwell Plantation a month earlier.  She was ready to face whatever life had to offer here in this new city.

             
“And Carrie?”  Aunt Abby asked.  “How is she?  I miss her so much.  Even our correspondence has become impossible.”

             
“Carrie was doing well when we left her,” Rose answered.  “She received your last letter.”

             
“She did?”  Aunt Abby exclaimed with a smile.  “My conductor friend made no promises, but he said he would do what he could to get my letter to her.”  She paused, her eyes glistening with tears.  “Please do tell me all about her.  She’s like a daughter to me, you know.”

             
Rose nodded.  “She thinks of you as a combination of friend and mother.  She has talked of you so much.  Carrie wanted me to tell you she has written you at least two letters a week.  She’s saving them for the time when they can reach you again.”  Rose thought for a moment.  “I’m sure she told me she tried to send a letter to you through the network.  It must not have made it.”

             
Aunt Abby smiled, her eyes shining with delight.  “It’s just wonderful to know she is all right.”

             
Rose filled her in on all the details of what Carrie was doing on the plantation.  “She had delivered twenty wagons of food to the city when we left.  There is no telling how many were sent before the first hard frost.”

             
“I should have known she would find a way to make a difference,” Aunt Abby said admiringly. “I can only imagine how much she must miss you two.”  She leaned back in her chair.  “Does Carrie feel safe on the plantation now?”

             
Moses shrugged. “She believes she is where she is supposed to be.  Her father called her to Richmond for the Battle of Bull Run.  She went to make him feel better.  I don’t believe she’ll leave so easily again.  Carrie feels like she has a mission to accomplish there now.”

             
“That sounds like Carrie,” Aunt Abby asked.  Then she turned to Rose and looked at her sharply.  “There are things you’re not telling me.  Is there something Carrie has asked you not to talk about?”

             
Rose shook her head.  She should have known Aunt Abby would have the same perceptiveness of her mama.  “It’s not anything I can really put into words.  I just worry about her sometimes.  The plantation has become her whole world.  But it’s out of necessity - not because her heart is really there.  I want her to have her chance, Aunt Abby.  She made it possible for Moses and me to be free - to follow our dreams...”  Her voice broke as she spoke, Carrie’s smiling face rising up in her mind. 

             
“You love her,” Aunt Abby said softly, watching her closely.

             
“I love her,” Rose agreed in a whisper.  “It was like leaving part of myself to have to leave her.”  Suddenly she felt a desire for Aunt Abby to know the truth.  She looked to Moses, and he nodded his head.  Once again he had read her thoughts. 

             
Rose took a deep breath and gazed at Aunt Abby.  The warm eyes encouraged her to continue.  “Carrie is more to me than just a friend.”  Then she told the story her mama had shared with Rose just before she died. 

             
Aunt Abby listened carefully, asking quiet questions as she went along.  When Rose was finished talking, she nodded her head and smiled.  “So what do you two do with your lives now?  Your old life has ended - at least until God sees fit to reunite you with Carrie somewhere in the future.  You have a new life ahead of you.  What do you want to do with it?”