Our Kansas Home (5 page)

Momma laughed, as if she didn't have a care in the world. “Oh, my husband took our oxen to town with him. All he's left with me is some tough, old chickens. You're welcome to them.

“He built that stable with dreams of being successful enough to own hogs, horses, and cows. But I'm afraid he's a poor farmer. Believe me, gentlemen, if I have anything to say about it, we will leave Kansas before the summer is over.”

Momma's trying to convince the border ruffians we have nothing to steal,
Charlie thought.

He heard a low murmur of voices.

“You want these chickens, or not?” one man called.

“Naw,” said another. “The lady's right. They're tough old birds.”

And then Charlie heard footsteps. Footsteps coming right to the door.

Lion heard the footsteps, too. He began wiggling in Charlie's arms. He struggled and gave a low whine. Charlie held him more tightly.

Momma's voice came again, loud and cheerful. “Sir, I wonder if you could get me a dipper of water from the pail by the door there? I would get up from my chair, but my legs are still weak. Are you by chance married with a babe of your own?”

A pause. Charlie tried with all his might to keep Lion quiet.

The man said, “Yes, ma'am. We have a little girl.”

“Oh! Then you must worry about your loved ones when you leave them alone.”

The footsteps started up again. But this time the man was walking away from the house.

“Thank you, sir. That water tastes good,” Momma said.

Charlie heard the man call out, “Come on, boys. We're wasting our time here.”

Then the man said something else to Momma in a low voice, but Charlie could not make out what it was.

Momma let a full twenty minutes pass after the men left before she called to Charlie. “It's safe now.”

Charlie and Lizzie scrambled out of their hiding places. They opened the door and let Annie and her calf out.

Momma gave Charlie a big hug. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears.

Momma wiped her forehead with her white handkerchief. “Go and find Sadie and Ida Jane, Charlie.”

But Sadie and Ida Jane were already coming over the hill. Sadie ran and buried her head in Momma's skirts.

Ida Jane let down her sacks of chickens. “We fooled them, didn't we? I knew we could do it!”

Lion was happy to be loose. He jumped up and down. He licked Charlie on the face and raced around, barking.

“Momma, what did that man say to you just before he left?” Charlie asked later.

“That man suspected I was play-acting,” said Momma. “I was so frightened. I felt sure he would burst right through the door and find you.

“He looked me straight in the eye and said, ‘Ma'am, I do believe you are hiding something—or someone. But I will spare you this time, for the sake of your baby. And perhaps someone will do the same for
my
wife and child.'”

CHAPTER EIGHT
 

A few days later Papa slipped home on foot, under the cover of darkness.

Charlie thought Papa seemed worried. He went to the cabin door again and again, looking out.

“Lion keeps watch outside now,” Charlie told him. “He'll bark if anyone comes.”

But even with Lion as a watchdog, no one slept much. Charlie heard Momma and Papa talking late into the night.

“James, I fear for your life if you stay here at Spring Creek,” Momma said softly. “If the border ruffians find you here, you'll be outnumbered.”

Papa's voice was low and fierce. “Things
are
bad. It looks as if there will be fighting all summer. It's not only the proslavery men causing trouble now. A free-state man named John Brown has killed five of his proslavery neighbors.”

“Then you must help protect Lawrence and help the free-state men,” Momma whispered back. “And maybe you can try to arrange safe passage to Canada for Lizzie. We must not let her master find her.”

Momma took a breath. “Don't worry about us. We will make do.”

And they had.

Each morning they got up at five. Ida Jane and Charlie took turns milking Annie. Sadie was in charge of the chickens. Even though she was little, Sadie knew which hens made good mothers. She always managed to bring Momma fresh eggs each day.

But Charlie thought they might not have made it without Lizzie. Baby Henry was just six months old, and Momma still needed to nurse him.

“These few mouths are easy to cook for, compared to what I'm used to,” Lizzie had told Momma. “Besides, it's a way of showing my thanks.”

Lizzie was a good cook. She made delicious soups and stews with the meat, onions, carrots, and cabbage. Lizzie and Sadie scoured the land near the creek for dandelion greens, strawberries, and wild plums. And later, when it was hot, Lizzie cut up plums, sliced them,
and spread them out in the sun to dry.

It seemed to Charlie that Lizzie knew a little about almost everything. She helped Charlie set traps for rabbits, quail, and prairie chicken. She knew about gardening, too, and helped tend the corn and the kitchen garden.

And at night, when they settled outside and rested, Lizzie sang. Her songs reminded Charlie of Flory. He hoped Flory was safe.

But then Charlie realized that none of them was really safe, not this summer.

There was danger everywhere.

One hot afternoon Charlie was fetching water when he heard a shout.

“Charlie, come quickly!” called Ida Jane.

Charlie shifted his shoulders carefully to balance the yoke better. Water was precious. He didn't want to spill even one drop in the two buckets he carried.

Trees edged Spring Creek like a border of lace. Charlie stepped out from under the shade into the high grass. The hot sun blazed down on his back.

The sky was a wide, brilliant blue. Charlie knew he'd be thirsty long before he reached the cabin.

At least Spring Creek is big enough so that we have water in the summer,
Charlie thought. Momma had hoped for a well, so water would be close by. But with all the trouble this summer, Papa would not be able to dig a well this year.

“Charlie! Where are you?”

“Over here.”

Ida Jane burst through the grass, her face red with the heat, her bonnet swinging over her shoulders. “A wagon's coming.”

“Border ruffians?”

“Momma doesn't think so. They usually come on horses. But she sent Lizzie to hide.”

Just then they heard Sadie's voice. “Charlie, Ida Jane, come quick! It's Flory!”

As soon as Charlie saw Flory next to the wagon, his heart sank. Carefully he placed his buckets on the ground. He came up slowly.

“Hello, Massachusetts Charlie,” said Flory, without smiling.

Charlie pointed to the wagon, piled high with supplies. “You're leaving.”

Flory nodded. “I begged my daddy to drive over here to let you know. Last night some free-state men attacked the little fort at Franklin, near our house. Daddy says he feels caught between two worlds. He's afraid for us to stay.”

Sadie came up and hung on Flory's dress. “Don't go, Flory. Live with us and teach us more songs about the Big Muddy.”

“Things are sure to get better,” Charlie said. “Papa says sooner or later the government in Washington, D.C., will have to do something to bring peace to Kansas.”

Flory sighed. “This is for the best, Daddy says.”

“But where will you go, Flory?” Ida Jane asked. “Are you headed back to Missouri?”

Flory glanced over at her father, who was saying good-bye to Momma.

Mr. Morgan shook his head. “No, we're going to start over somewhere new. We're heading farther west. I don't know where we'll end up. Maybe Santa Fe, maybe Texas. Who knows? We might even make it all the way to California.”

Charlie swallowed. “We get our mail in Lawrence. If you write me, I promise to write back.”

Flory flashed a smile. She leaned forward and
planted a kiss on Charlie's cheek. “That would be tremendously wonderful, Massachusetts Charlie.”

Charlie waved until the wagon was out of sight.

If this trouble lasts much longer, we might be leaving, too,
he thought.

CHAPTER NINE
 

One hot night Charlie threw off his thin blanket and sat up. He rubbed his eyes.

He had been dreaming. He had been home in Massachusetts, walking through a field with old Danny. Had Danny barked in the dream?

“Woof!”

Suddenly Charlie was awake. He wasn't in Massachusetts at all. He was in their cabin at Spring Creek. It was the middle of the night. And Lion was barking.

Charlie jumped up and shook Momma. “Someone's coming.”

“Lizzie! Come hide under the mattress. Quick,” said Momma, instantly awake. “Ida Jane, throw your grandmother's quilt over me and light the lantern. Then dip a cloth in water and lay it on my forehead for my fever.”

In an instant their cabin was transformed into a sickroom. Momma lay in bed, Baby Henry tucked
beside her. Lizzie lay hidden under the mattress, trying not to move a muscle. Ida Jane sat by Momma's side, trying to look anxious.

“At least Sadie didn't wake up,” whispered Momma. “She can't seem to understand that I'm not really sick! Now, Charlie, it's up to you. Go outside and keep Lion quiet so he doesn't get shot.”

“Good luck, Charlie,” said Ida Jane.

Charlie opened the cabin door. The voices of crickets filled the night.

“Lion, come!” Charlie called.

Instantly Lion trotted to his side and sat. Charlie commanded, “Be still, now.”

Charlie looked up. The moon was a sliver of white. The black, starry sky seemed to stretch out forever.

It's up to me,
he thought.

If border ruffians came now, there was nothing he could do to save Annie, her calf, or Sadie's chickens.

But he had to save Lizzie.

I'll have to convince the searchers that Momma is really sick,
Charlie thought. He would have to make sure no one guessed they were hiding Lizzie.

Charlie remembered that winter day, long ago, when
Papa had first told them about moving to Kansas. Working to make Kansas a free state hadn't meant much, then.