The Swindler's Treasure (20 page)

“How do you know where Jordan went?” she asked Caleb when she thought it was safe to speak.

“I don't know,” Caleb said. “But I heard Jordan ask Frances where she thought the slave catchers took his father. She told him the Indian trail might be the shortest way to the Mississippi. I think it's thirteen or fourteen miles.”

“Jordan's father was walking,” Libby said. “The slave catchers couldn't gallop with him behind.”

“And Jordan was riding. He could find them,” Caleb said. “Especially if his father tried to slow down the slave catchers.”

For some time Caleb and Libby rode in the darkness. The farther they went, the more afraid Libby felt.

“I'm scared, Caleb,” she said finally. “If the slave catchers see Jordan—”

Caleb turned his head to answer. “I know.” He spoke softly, and Libby had no doubt that he was worried too.

“What if we make things worse?” she asked. “What if we come up behind Jordan when he can't see us? We could scare him into jumping out of hiding.”

Caleb shrugged, as if he had thought of the same thing. “But he might need our help. We have to try,” he said, as if that settled the matter.

Before long, Libby began to feel every movement of the horse.
I never learned to ride
, she thought. Trying to ignore how uncomfortable she felt, she kept looking around.

For some distance they rode with a canopy of tall trees arching above them. Whenever they drew close to a home or farm, Caleb slowed Annie to a walk. When needed, he rode around a house and found the path on the other side.

A couple of hours had passed when Libby first caught the scent of the river. Like the sweetness of air after a rain, the river breeze felt cool and refreshing. Soon Caleb slowed the horse again. Moving even more quietly, he stopped Annie often to listen.

The trail was wider here, as if many people used it to come to a river crossing. Staying away from the bushes that reached out from either side, Caleb kept to the center of the track. He leaned forward to whisper in Annie's ear, urging the horse on. At last they came to the banks of the Mississippi.

Within the line of trees that grew close to the water, Caleb slid off the horse. When he helped Libby down, she stumbled and nearly fell. Quickly Caleb grabbed her arm to steady her, but he did not speak.

So sore that she could barely move, Libby wondered how she could possibly run if it became necessary. Waiting and watching, Caleb kept Annie a short distance from the edge of the trees.

Without moving a muscle, Libby stood there, afraid that any small sound would give them away to the wrong person. Here, where the trees gave way to the wide river, she could see the moon again. To her relief it was still high in the sky.

Then from across the water, Libby heard a sound and strained to see. Islands dotted the river, darker shapes that merged with the darkness of the water. Grabbing Caleb's arm, Libby pointed. When he nodded, she knew that he, too, had heard the noise.

In that moment Libby remembered how easily sounds carried over water. The person making the noise could be quite far away.

When she heard the sound again, Libby knew what it was—oars creaking in their locks. Whoever was rowing made no effort at silence. That could mean only one thing. It would not be fugitives or people helping fugitives. Whoever was in that boat had to be slave catchers.

“Keep watching,” Caleb whispered into Libby's ear. “I'm taking Annie farther back.” Disappearing between the trees, Caleb was soon lost to view.

As time dragged out, Libby waited, still straining to see. Then at the end of an island, something moved. In the light of the moon, the shape grew longer, as if moving out of the shadow of the island. Between that island and the next, Libby saw the shape turn into a rowboat heading upstream.

Is Jordan's daddy in that boat?
Libby wondered.

For only a moment he had stood tall. As Libby remembered the leg irons around his ankles and the chains between his feet, she thought of Hattie, Serena, Zack, and little Rose.

I can't cry
, Libby told herself.
I've got to listen, think, pray
.

Pray
. On the night wind, the word broke into her grieving heart.
Why am I standing here doing nothing when I could be praying?

She began by praying for Jordan.
Wherever he is, Lord, take care of him. Tell him what to do
. She went on to pray for Jordan's father.
O Lord, give him a way to escape!

In that moment Libby felt peaceful, as though others were praying with her.
Was Dr. Brown lying awake, praying even now? And Frances, Jordan, Caleb, Micah Parker himself? Perhaps even his wife, Hattie, had sensed she needed to pray
.

Barely had the thought crossed her mind when Libby heard another sound in the darkness. The soft whinny of a horse.

Libby stiffened. What if there were other slave catchers around? If they heard Annie, they would have no problem following the sound to Caleb.

There it was again. A second whinny. Libby's stomach muscles tightened.
What's wrong? Caleb should be farther back
.

Turning from the waterfront, Libby tried to follow Caleb into the darkness. But when she heard a soft movement—a movement where Caleb shouldn't be—Libby knew.

It wasn't Annie. Someone else is here with me in these dark woods!

When she sensed the movement again, Libby's fists clenched in terror. Frantically she looked around for a hiding place, trying to blend with the night.

Then a whisper reached her. “Libby!”

At first she thought she had imagined it.

“Libby!” came the whisper again, even closer this time.

In relief Libby sagged against the tree. It was Jordan. Jordan whispering in the night. They had found him after all! Or rather, he had found them

Not far behind was Caleb. He and Jordan had taken the horses farther back to a small opening in the trees, leaving them where there was grass.

Now Jordan led Libby and Caleb to the riverbank. As he, Libby, and Caleb knelt down behind the trees closest to the water, the night exploded with sound. First a splash, then oars knocked against a boat.

“Get him!” a rough voice exclaimed.

“I can't!”

“Yes, you can. Go after him.”

“I can't swim. You go.”

“I can't swim either. We'll both have to get him. The minute he comes up, hold out an oar. He'll be glad for our help.”

“No, he won't!” Jordan whispered.

“Where'd he go?” asked the voice across the water. “Where is he?” The man was worried now. “There ain't nobody who can swim with leg irons on.”

“I tell you, he's gotta come up at least once.”

“No, he doesn't!” Excitement filled Jordan's whisper. “My daddy can swim longer underwater than anyone I know.”

“Riggs ain't gonna like this,” came a voice. “This here property was valuable. We ain't got no way to prove that he drowned.”

“If we can't find him, we ain't gonna get paid!”

The men were silent then, waiting. Again the oars knocked against the boat. Then Libby heard the sound of an oar dropping into its lock. Straining forward, she watched. As the moonlight fell upon the boat, Libby saw it was moving again, making circles as if going around and around a certain spot.

Off to the left something else lay in the darkness. Another boat? Libby tried to decide what it could be.
Almost as long as a rowboat, but not the right shape
.

Suddenly Jordan caught his breath and pointed to where Libby had been looking. Whatever they were seeing, it was rounded on the top and solid looking. Now it seemed to be moving—slowly, slowly moving.

“A log!” Caleb's whisper was no more than a breath, but he, too, was filled with wonder. “A large floating log!”

As the men in the boat rowed around in circles, the log slowly moved away from them. Always moving slightly downstream, it seemed to drift with the current.

By now Jordan was so excited he could hardly contain himself. Then Libby noticed what he had already seen. The log was stripped of bark, rubbed clean and smooth by the washing of water. On the side of the log away from the slave catchers, Libby saw a man's head.

Then an arm and hand reached forward in a swimming stroke. With each stroke the log moved closer to shore. Riding the current, it was going downstream from where Libby and the boys watched.

Quietly Jordan stood up. Hiding behind trees and bushes, he crept downriver, with Libby and Caleb following. Staying even with the log, Jordan watched as it drew closer and closer to shore. When at last the log bumped against the riverbank, Jordan was as near as he could be without coming out into the open.

For a minute Micah Parker waited, clinging to a broken-off branch on the side of the log. From where she knelt, Libby saw him draw long, deep breaths. With his face turned toward the riverbank, he seemed to be deciding how to cross the open ground.

Then Micah let go of the branch. On hands and knees he crawled up the riverbank.

Just then the men on the river stopped their circling and turned the boat toward shore.

“Daddy!” Jordan whispered.

His father's head jerked up. In the light of the moon, Libby saw the light in Micah's eyes.

But Jordan was frantic now. “They're coming this way!”

CHAPTER 16

M
icah Parker turned toward the river. After one glance he kept his head low. On his belly now, he pushed with his toes and pulled himself forward with his elbows.

When the chain between his ankles clanked, Micah stopped. He turned his head, as if to listen. As he moved on, he again pulled himself with his elbows but dragged his feet in the dirt. At last Micah reached the edge of the woods.

Without wasting a moment, Jordan started crawling back into the woods. On his hands and knees again, his daddy kept up. Twigs and branches reached out, catching the chain between his ankles. But Jordan and Micah kept on, with Libby and Caleb following.

Deeper within the woods, Jordan stood up, but his father kept crawling. Soon there came the sound of a boat grating against the gravel at the edge of the water. The men's angry voices came clearly through the trees.

Jordan stopped, standing without movement, and the rest stopped behind him.

“Riggs ain't gonna like this!” The voice came from the direction of the trail through the woods.

“It's all your fault. You should have watched him better.”

“Watched him? How should I know he'd jump into the river?”

Then the men passed by, and their voices moved farther away. At last Jordan walked on, with his father still crawling on his hands and knees behind him.

“If we could just get rid of your legirons,” Jordan muttered. Libby knew it would take a blacksmith or a sledgehammer and chisel to break the chain that stretched between the bands around each ankle.

As they reached more open ground, Micah stood up. Swinging his legs as far apart as the chain allowed, he brought forward one foot, then another. When they came to the small clearing, Micah Parker waited while Jordan brought the mare he had ridden over to a stump.