Part 10 (1/2)

”Sir, I come from Mr. Day's, up Milton way. I has a table for Mr. Patterson.” Isaac couldn't control the tremble in his voice or the shake of his hands. He removed his hat and bowed slightly.

”d.a.m.n, boy, you're half frozen! Get in here.” The door swung open. A short, gray haired gentleman with a full beard stood aside, his belly pressing against the b.u.t.tons of his waistcoat. He waved toward the glowing fire. ”What in tarnation is Day thinking, sending his nigras out on a night like this?” Mr. Patterson shook his head. ”Here, set down on that stool and warm yourself.”

Isaac hurried to the hearth.

Mr. Patterson walked to the darkened staircase and cupped his hand beside his mouth. ”Raleigh,” he called, ”fetch a blanket and brew a pot of tea. We have us a boy here who like to froze himself to death.”

Isaac pulled the stool close to the fire. Mr. Patterson stirred the ashes and added a log. Coals glowed red, then flames leapt around the newly added wood. Isaac scooted back as the heat brushed his face.

”Thank you, sir. Wagon went in a ditch. I fell in trying to unstuck a wheel.”

”I can see that, boy.”

Footsteps padded down the stairway as Isaac stared into the dancing flames. Mr. Patterson handed him a blanket. The footfalls trailed off toward the back of the house. Isaac wrapped the blanket around his shoulders.

”Where's your wagon, boy?”

”Out front, sir. I'll go fetch your table-” Isaac started to rise.

”You sit, boy.” Mr. Patterson pointed to the stool, then walked to a door that led to a back room. ”Raleigh, when you finish there, go wake Ezekiel and tell him to get that table off the wagon out front, and have him put that horse up in the barn too. Be sure he gives that poor beast a good rub down.”

”Thank you, sir,” Isaac said. ”Mr. Day will be appreciating your kindness.”

”No sense in letting a good animal die from exposure. No sense in you trying to get back to Milton tonight neither. You get warmed. I'll have my house girl bring you dry clothes.” Mr. Patterson started up the stairs, then paused and turned toward Isaac. ”You can sleep in the barn tonight.”

A door creaked followed by soft footfalls. ”Here, drink this.” The voice was clear, like the song of a wood thrush. Isaac turned. She stood beside him holding a steaming cup of chamomile tea.

Isaac stumbled to his feet, dropping the blanket to the floor. That same pale blue dress, now covered with a dark blue ap.r.o.n . . .

He gazed into large, almond eyes.

She smiled. ”We have not been to church lately. Missus Patterson took ill, so we have not made the trip to Milton.”

Isaac stepped away from the hearth, wiping sweat from his brow. ”I . . . I been most every Sunday.” He poked at the stool with his foot. ”About gave up on seeing you again.”

_____.

She faced away as Isaac peeled off the wet clothes and dropped them in a pile. He pulled on a pair of Ezekiel's trousers and slipped the borrowed s.h.i.+rt over his head. ”They's a mite loose, but they's dry.”

She turned around and looked him over, then motioned toward the fire. ”You may sit a spell longer-just until the chill is gone. Do you have a name?”

”They calls me Isaac . . . 'cause I was the first son of Abraham. He's my pa.”

”Nice to meet you, Isaac.” She smiled and dipped in a mock curtsy. ”My name is Raleigh, because that is where I was born.” She sat on the sofa facing the hearth.

”Raleigh . . . that's a nice name.” Isaac nodded. He took a sip of tea. ”You been here long?”

”I have been in Mr. Patterson's employment for one year.”

”He just bought you?”

”No. I am a free woman.”

”How is you free? Was your mama free?”

”No, she died giving birth to me, but she died a slave. The Pattersons bought me when I was six years old. They raised me and taught me and, in return, I take care of their household needs.”

”But you said you come here just last year?”

She rose and walked to the fireplace. ”I said I came into Mr. Patterson's employment one year ago. When I was twelve, Mr. Patterson told me that if I worked hard he would pay me a small stipend to cover my needs. I told him my need was to be free, so he agreed to let me buy my freedom, one dollar at a time. A year ago he marked the debt paid and gave me my papers.”

Isaac leaned toward her. ”So, if you's free, why ain't you in New York, or Boston, or Philadelphia? Why's you here?”

”The Pattersons are the only family I've ever known. The Lord never blessed them with children, so they have no one to look after them in their old age. I guess I'm their family too.” She sighed. ”You'd best get out to the barn now. Take the blanket. You'll find saddle blankets in the tack room if you need more. I'll bring you coffee and biscuits in the morning.”

”You be at church this Sabbath?”

Raleigh lowered her head. ”I don't expect so.” She wrung her hands, then looked up. ”Now, go make your bed in the straw. And, Isaac . . .”

He turned as he headed toward the door.

”Stay warm.” She smiled.

Isaac reached for his medallion. His hand wiped the front of his empty s.h.i.+rt.

Chapter Fourteen.

April 1861 ”War! They've fired on Fort Sumter!” The cadet raced down the hallway banging on doors, shattering the Sat.u.r.day routine of cleaning rifles, polis.h.i.+ng shoes, and tending to uniforms. Cadets in every manner of dress rushed into the hallway. Henry tossed his musket on the bed and ran to the door.

At the end of the hall, a cadet held up a page of newsprint. ”The paper says Captain Beauregard commanded the southern cannon.”

”Beauregard?” Edward said. ”He didn't last five days when he was up here as superintendent, but it sure sounds like he's making up for it now.” He nudged Henry with his elbow. Nervous laughter pa.s.sed through the crowd.

”I hear tell West Point relieved him because of his secessionist leanings,” a cadet called out in a down east accent.

The plebe with the newspaper held up his hand, silencing the crowd. ”It says here Brigadier General P. G. T. Beauregard of the Confederate forces ordered his batteries to open fire on the U.S. fortress early Friday morning after negotiations between Beauregard and Major Anderson, United States Army, reached a stalemate concerning the surrender of Fort Sumter.”

”Appears to me you make rank quickly in that rebel army,” a Vermont cadet added. Several cadets laughed.

”Bet Sumter's guns showed them rebels what for,” a lad from New Jersey said, waving his fist above the crowd.

”Did we take casualties?”

”Who won?”

”Where's the Navy?”