On to Richmond (69 page)

             
“Hey, lady!”  the young boy exclaimed.  “I didn’t see you.  You okay?”

             
Adams loomed over her. Rose stiffened as he pinned her arms against her body roughly and pressed his cold gun to her neck. 

             
“This ain’t no lady, boy.  She ain’t nothing but a runaway slave.  You did everyone around here a favor.  You can just keep moving on.”

             
The boy looked at Adams uncertainly.  Then he looked back at Rose.  She begged him for help with her eyes but realized there was nothing a young boy could do. 

             
Adams twisted one of her arms cruelly and waved his pistol in the boy’s direction.  “I said to keep moving.  My patience is running real short.  Unless you want trouble, too, you better do what I say.”

             
Rose watched as fear gripped the young boy’s face.  She was glad when he picked up his cart handle and turned to move on.  She didn’t want anyone else to be hurt.

             
Adams laughed coldly then and spun Rose around to face him.  His face was red with fury.  He stared at her for a long moment and then pulled his hand back. 

             
Rose’s head snapped back as the slap connected with her face, but she remained silent.  She would not give him the satisfaction of crying out. 

             
“You and I need to reach an understanding, nigger girl,” Adams snapped.  He snarled and shoved her back into the cold, dark depths of the alley.   He released her arm long enough to push her back against the building’s cold bricks.  Then he gripped both arms tightly and pressed his body against her.  “You’re making it harder on yourself, Rose.  My loving tends to get a little rough when I’m angry,” he sneered.

             
Rose stared at him coldly and then screamed again.  “Let me go!” 

             
Adams cursed loudly and raised his hand to slap her again.  Rose shrunk back against the bricks but met his evil gaze levelly.   She was not afraid to die.  She
was
afraid of living with what this man wanted to do to her.  

             
“You heard the lady.”

Rose gasped when a strong voice cracked in the alley. 

“She said to let her go.”

             
The voice stopped Adams’ hand.  Cursing again, he whirled to face his newest tormentor. 

             
  “He has a gun,” Rose cried. 

             
In a flash, the tall, thin man peering into the alley shot his fist out and connected with Adam’s jaw.  Rose heard the sharp crack and then watched as Adams, a surprised look on his narrow face, sank to the sidewalk where he lay still.

             
Only then did the tall man turn to Rose.  His voice was gentle.  “I’m so sorry, Rose.”  Gently he reached for her hand and helped her step over Adams’ body and onto the sidewalk.  “I’ve been trying to catch up to you.  I saw you break away from this man a ways back.  I’m afraid my months in prison have left me rather slow.” 

             
Rose stared at him, her breath coming in gasps.  “You know me?”   She didn’t remember ever seeing the tall, skinny man with the flowing red hair and beard. 

             
Suddenly he smiled.  “You might not remember me anyway, but you certainly wouldn’t the way I look now.  I’m Matthew Justin.”

             
“Carrie and Robert’s friend?”  Rose cried. When she looked closer, she recognized him.  His blue eyes were tired, but they still held the sparkle she remembered.  And even the beard could not disguise the smile. 

             
Matthew nodded.  Then he studied her.  “Are you all right?  Did this brute hurt you? ” His tone was severe.  “I’m sorry it took me so long to catch up.”

             
Rose shook her head.  “I’m all right,” she managed.  She knew her arms would be sore for days to come, and she was sure there would be a welt on her face, but it was nothing when she thought of what could have happened.  She couldn’t control the shudder that coursed through her.

             
Matthew looked at her closely.  “Are you all right to walk home?”  When she nodded, he continued.  “I’ll meet you at Aunt Abby’s.”

             
“You know where I am staying?”  Rose asked incredulously.

             
Matthew nodded.  “Carrie told me.”

             
Rose gazed at him in amazement and delight.  “You’ve seen Carrie?  Is she all right?  Is she...?” 

             
More questions would have poured from her mouth, but Matthew raised a hand to stop her.  “We’ll have plenty of time to talk later.  Aunt Abby doesn’t know I’m back.  I was planning on surprising her tonight.”

             
“Oh, she’ll be so happy!”

             
Matthew nodded.  “No happier than I,” he said with a laugh.  Then he sobered.  “You go on ahead.  I’m going to take care of this scum,” he said in a voice like ice.  He looked down at Adams’ still body.  “Adams and I are going to have a talk.  By the time we’re done, I don’t think you’ll need to worry about him bothering you again.”

             
Rose had to know one thing.  “Marse Cromwell...  Did he send Adams after us?” 

             
Matthew shook his head.  “Thomas doesn’t know you’re not both on the plantation.”    Just then Adams stirred and groaned.  Matthew spoke more adamantly this time.  “Go home, Rose.  I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

             
Rose turned and flew down the sidewalk.

             
“Are you going to tell me what you’re so fidgety about?” Aunt Abby finally demanded.  “I’ve been watching you for the last hour, and you’re about to drive me crazy with curiosity.”

             
Rose struggled to think of something to say.  She had so badly wanted to tell Aunt Abby about her encounter with Ike Adams but doing so would have necessitated telling her about Matthew.  And Matthew wanted to surprise her.  

             
“Well?”  Aunt Abby’s expression was one of concern now.  “Are you all right, Rose?  Is something wrong?”

             
Rose opened her mouth, knowing she needed to say something, but just then the doorbell rang.  She gasped with relief and jumped up.  “I’ll get it,” she said, but as she approached the door, she suddenly slowed.  What if Adams had gotten the best of Matthew?  What if it was Ike Adams on the other side of the door?  Fear grabbed her for a moment until she realized how silly it was.  A weasel like Ike Adams was no match for Matthew Justin.  She smiled and reached forward to open the door. 

             
“Who in the world is it?”  Aunt Abby demanded from just behind her.  “It’s too late for callers.”

             
Rose jerked the door open.

             
“Is it too late for this caller?” Matthew asked teasingly.

             
Aunt Abby stared at him for a moment as if he were a ghost and then gave a glad cry.  She leapt forward and fell into his arms.  “Matthew!  Matthew Justin!  You’re home!”  Tears rolled down her face as she sobbed joyously. 

             
Rose wiped at her own tears as she witnessed the jubilant reunion. 

             
Matthew made no attempt to hide his own as well.   Finally, laughing, he moved Aunt Abby back into the hallway and pushed the door shut behind him.  He smiled down at Rose.  “Thank you for keeping my secret.”

             
Aunt Abby looked up then and spoke through her tears.  “You knew he was here?” she asked Rose.  “How?”

             
Rose hesitated.

             
Matthew answered for her.  “I helped her with a little run in with Ike Adams today.”

             
Aunt Abby frowned.  “Ike Adams? “  Then her voice sharpened.  “Isn’t he the old overseer from Carrie’s plantation?”

             
Rose nodded mutely.

             
Aunt Abby took a deep breath and stepped back from Matthew.  “Why don’t we go into the parlor?  I’d say we all have a lot of talking to do.”

             
“I’d say you’re right,” Matthew agreed with a smile. 

It was past midnight when Rose wearily climbed the stairs to her room.  Matthew and Aunt Abby were still talking.  Aunt Abby’s laughter pealed through the house again as Matthew made her laugh.  Rose was happy for her, but her own aching for Moses had deepened.  She had longed all night to hear another knock on the door
so that she could open it to find Moses standing on the stoop. 

             
She stared out the window for a long time.  Matthew had assured her Adams would no longer be a threat.  She had questioned him about what had happened, but his face had merely grown grim when he said, “Ike Adams is basically a selfish man.  He will always look out for himself first.  I convinced him it would not be healthy for him to mess with either you or Moses.”  That was all he would say.  His calm assurance had comforted her, but she couldn’t help peering out the window to see if Adams’ wiry form was outside lurking behind a bush, his beady eyes watching them. 

             
Finally she turned away from the window and retreated to her bed.  She couldn’t help the tears that engulfed her as she longed for Moses’ strength to shield her.  Her body still ached from her struggle today.  When the tears had run their course, she lay in bed quietly, thinking of all they had talked about tonight.  She was so glad to know Carrie was doing well.  She had eagerly absorbed everything Matthew had told her. 

             
She could hardly believe it when Matthew told her Carrie’s father still believed she and Moses were still on the plantation, along with Ike Adams.  He had evidently accepted Carrie’s explanation that she could not send Moses to the city last October because he was needed on the plantation to prepare for this year’s food crops.  How long could she get away with what she was doing?

             
His voice had broken when he said, “Carrie Cromwell made my stay in prison bearable.  Her visits and gifts were like a light in the darkness.  The food she had Opal bring me was sometimes all that gave us the hope to keep going.  We knew there was at least one person who cared about what was going on behind those walls.”

             
Aunt Abby had listened with tears in her eyes.  “What now, Matthew?” she had asked. 

             
Matthew had shrugged.  “I will keep doing what I was doing.  I have my old job back on the paper.  This war has just barely begun.  I will have my work cut out for me to try and make sense to the reading public what is happening in our country. ”

             
Rose had latched on to what he had said.  She would continue to work hard, to prepare, so that when her time was ready she would be able, by education and caring, to make sense out of the world to the scores of blacks who would be suddenly free.             

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

             
Moses gazed around him in awe as he marched toward the Alexandrian docks.  His mind traveled back to the little rowboats he and Rose had traveled on during their escape.  He had been told that hundreds of vessels of every imaginable kind were arriving at the wharves of the historic little brick town that had marked the head of deep-water navigation on the Potomac since colonial days.  Nothing they had told him prepared him for the sight that met him when they rounded the last curve. 

             
“A sight to behold, isn’t it?”

             
Moses nodded as he turned to his new friend, James.  “It sure is.  What are all those things?  Other than boats,” he added quickly.  “That much I can figure out myself.”  He had already found himself the brunt of many jokes and hateful jibes the last few weeks.  He was learning to be very careful what he said.  He had discovered the Northern white was much like the Southern white. 

             
James smiled easily.  “That one there is a Philadelphia ferryboat.”  Then he pointed to one with a huge wheel.  “That one is a Long Island Sound side-wheeler.  Over there is a Hudson River excursion boat.”  His voice grew more excited.  “The real big one is a transatlantic passage.”  He continued on to point out schooners, barges, and canal boats.  “I hear there are going to be almost three hundred of them making trips back and forth till the whole army has been moved.”