Mockingbird's Call (2 page)

By the time Reverend Carnes took his leave, Jared was practically floating in the clouds. As soon as the college president left, he approached his father and thrust out his right hand. “Thank you, Pa.”

His father grasped his hand and pulled Jared into an embrace. “I love you, son. Don't ever doubt that your ma and I have your best interests at heart. We believe in you.”

He felt somewhat awkward as he and his father had not embraced since Jared had left his childhood behind. But this was a special day—one that Jared knew he would always remember. Emotion tried to overwhelm him, but he choked it back. “I won't let you down.”

Two

Montgomery Plantation, outside Nashville

Amelia Montgomery's skirt threatened to halt her progress as she followed her mother through the slave cabin's tiny doorway. She reached down with impatient hands and compressed the voluminous material so she could successfully negotiate the narrow entrance. While hoops allowed a ladylike sway in one's progress, they could often be quite cumbersome.

What she saw inside took her breath away and filled her tender heart with sorrow. One rickety table stood in the center of the room with three tree stumps placed around it, apparently serving as chairs. A few tattered blankets were laid out on the dirt floor of the cabin. On one of the blankets lay a very young girl, probably only five or six years old, who was alternately coughing and moaning, obviously in the grip of some dangerous disease. A shallow bowl filled with water and a wad of rags indicated that the only other occupant of the one-room cabin, probably the mother of the little girl, had been bathing her forehead with cool water. Now she stood to one side as Amelia's mother set her basket on the table and drew off her gloves.

“Esau told me your little girl was sick, Nelly.” Amelia's mother referred to the butler at the big house. She took an apron from her basket. “Amelia and I have brought some medicine for you to use that should have her feeling better in no time.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Montgomery, Miss Amelia.” The older woman's face was so dark that Amelia could barely make out her expression in the dim cabin.

It was a shame they could not leave the door open to let light inside, but it was much too cold and the little girl was much too sick.

“What do you want me to do, Mama?”

Amelia's mother sank to the ground next to the blanket and placed her hand on the child's forehead. “I need you to measure out a spoonful of the butterfly root tea we brought. If we can get her to drink some, it will help with the fever and coughing.”

Amelia opened the medicine bag her mother had helped her prepare, withdrew the warm bottle, and uncorked it, wrinkling her nose at the pungent smell.

Mrs. Montgomery took the spoon from her as soon as Amelia filled it. She coaxed the child to open her mouth and tipped the spoon against her lips. The poor thing was so weak and sick she didn't even react to what Amelia imagined was a very bitter dose.

She took the spoon back from her mother. “Another one?”

Her mother shook her head. “We don't want to give her too much.” She laid the child back down on the blanket. “Hand me a towel.”

Amelia drew out a pair of snowy white cotton towels and watched as her mother arranged them under the little girl's head. “If you will keep her head up like this, Nelly, she will be able to breathe more easily.” She pushed herself up from the ground and dusted her hands together.

“Thank you, ma'am. I been so worried about my Sadie. She been gettin' worse since Sunday.”

“And rightly so.” Mrs. Montgomery took the bottle and spoon from Amelia. “It appears your child has pneumonia. You will need to give her one spoonful of this medicine every hour until you go to sleep tonight.”

Amelia's forehead wrinkled with doubt. “But, Mama, how will Nelly know when an hour has passed?”

“Don't you fret yourself, Miss Amelia. I knows how to watch the sun.”

“I'm going to leave this basket with you, Nelly. There's food inside for your family since you can't work today and earn your portion. You'll need to get one of the older women to watch after her tomorrow, though, so you can get back to work. Tell her to give your girl a spoonful at a time until this bottle is empty.”

The woman thanked her mother yet again for her kind Christian heart even as the child started coughing and moaning once again.

Amelia grabbed her skirts and followed her mother back outside. Cold winter air reddened her cheeks in the few steps it took for them to reach the family carriage. Once inside, she looked at her mother. “Will her child live?”

“I don't know, but we've done all we can.” Her mother shivered and pulled a thick fleece blanket over her lap. “We must always take care to provide medicine and care for the slaves, Amelia. It's our Christian duty to them. And it will ensure that we'll never be troubled by a slave uprising.”

Amelia nodded, but she wondered. If that had been her little girl, would she have been so thankful for a basket of food and medicine? “Can't we make their quarters warmer?”

Her mother sniffed. “They don't need warmth like we do. They are accustomed to harsher circumstances. Just as there is a danger in ignoring their needs, there is a danger in coddling them too much.”

Coddling? Amelia didn't think basic comfort was coddling. She opened her mouth to argue, but the coachman pulled up at the front steps and ended their conversation. She would remember to ask Papa later. Perhaps he would be more sympathetic to his workers' needs.

❧

Amelia pushed against the pommels of her sidesaddle to get a higher vantage point and looked all around the fields. The fall harvest had begun even though it was barely September. She could see the dark heads of the field workers as they toiled in the bright sunlight to the shouts and warnings of the overseer. She winced as the crack of a whip carried to her over the hot wind. She hoped none of Nelly's family was being punished.

In the months since she had first visited Nelly's cabin with her mother, Amelia had often dropped by to see how little Sadie was progressing. It had taken the girl a long time to recover from the pneumonia, but the cough had finally disappeared as the hot summer days grew longer. Amelia had taken Sadie gifts, trinkets really—a pan of biscuits, a handkerchief made of soft lawn, and a shift she had cut from one of her old nightgowns. She thought of the gift she brought today, eager to see a smile on little Sadie's face.

Now she glanced around to make certain no one was watching as she turned her mare's head toward the group of slave cabins her parents called the quarters. Mama and Papa would skin her if they knew what she was doing. They had strict views on which slaves she could befriend.

Tabitha, her personal maid, was an acceptable friend and confidante. Tabitha was the daughter of Esau, the butler, and Rahab, the mulatto cook. As higher-echelon slaves, Esauand Rahab had been allowed to marry and lived in much nicer accommodations than those to be found in the quarters. She and Tabitha were very close in age, having been born only a month apart. She often pulled Tabitha into scrapes, like wading barefoot in the stream or sneaking fresh cream out to the barn cat after she delivered a litter of tiny, mewing kittens. But if they were caught, she was always quick to accept the total blame, aware that her punishment would always be lighter than that of a slave.

That was why Amelia had never brought Tabitha with her to the quarters. If Papa ever caught her friend out there, he'd probably sell her to one of the neighboring landowners. He had very strict rules about the house slaves keeping separate from the field slaves. The only time they were allowed to be in the same building together was on Sundays at church, and even then the house slaves had to sit with the family while the field slaves occupied the balcony on the second floor. Amelia didn't understand why the separation was so important, but she knew enough to be careful which of Papa's rules she broke.

The hot, dry wind chased Amelia into the quarters.

Sadie came running toward her before she even had time to dismount. “Hi, Miss Amelia.” Sadie's slender legs showed beneath the hem of her shift as she skidded to a stop.

“I declare, Sadie, if you don't stop growing, that shift is going to be too short for you before winter returns.”

The little girl glanced at her bare toes. “Yes, ma'am. But I can't he'p it. Ev'y night I ask Jesus to keep me short, but ev'y day when I gets up, my legs is longer.”

Amelia laughed and reached out a hand to pull Sadie into the saddle behind her. “I've got a surprise for you today.”

“A surprise?” Excitement made Sadie twist and turn behind her. “Where is it?”

“I left it in my saddlebag. To see it properly you and I are going to have to go to the creek.”

Sadie wrapped her hands around Amelia's waist. “Is it a fishing line? I likes fish, Miss Amelia.”

“No, it's not a fishing line. But I'm not going to tell you any
thing else until we get to the creek.” She clucked to her horse.

It only took them a couple of minutes to reach the shady banks of the trickling stream. Sadie slid off the horse first, and Amelia dismounted right after her. Having secured the reins on a nearby branch, she went to her saddlebag and made a production of pulling out a little reed boat she and Tabitha had woven the day before.

Sadie's mouth opened in an O. “What is it?”

“It's a boat just like a reed boat that once hid a little baby boy in Egypt a long time ago.”

“Who would hide a baby in a boat?”

Amelia pulled off her shoes and stockings and sat on the bank of the creek. “A long time ago, a big king reigned in Egypt, and he was a very bad man. He had lots of Hebrew slaves, so many that he decided to kill all the little boy slaves so he wouldn't lose his power over them.”

Sadie sat down beside her and dangled her feet in the water.

Amelia handed her the little boat to play with. “One day, a Hebrew woman had a baby boy. She loved him so much that she hid him in a boat to keep the bad king from killing him.”

“Was he in the boat a long time?”

“No.” Amelia shook her head. “The king's daughter found him, and she loved him like her own little boy. She brought him back to her home and named him Moses. When he was a grown man, he used his power to free his people.”

“That's a nice story, Miss Amelia.” Sadie moved the little boat back and forth in the water. “I wish I had a Moses to free my family.”

“Amelia Montgomery!” Her father's angry voice startled Amelia. How had he managed to find them, and how long had he been listening?

She turned to face his wrath, praying that he would not take his anger out on the little girl beside her.

Her father's face reminded her of a thundercloud. His eyes blazed, and his teeth were gritted. He pulled his hat off and slapped it against his leg. She watched the dust billow from his pants leg and swirl around in the dry air. Next to him stood one of the overseers, a heavy-jowled man with mean little eyes and a hard mouth.

“Papa, I'm sorry.”

“I don't want to hear a word from you, Amelia. Get back home and await me in my study.” He turned to the overseer. “Obviously, this slave has too much time on her hands. Take her out to the fields. She can start to earn her keep.”

“Papa, no.” Amelia put her hand out and stepped toward him. “Please don't.”

“This time you've gone too far, Amelia, sowing discordwith your tales of slave uprisings.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her to her mare, tossing Amelia in the saddle and slapping her mount's flank. As she grabbed for the reins to keep from tumbling to the ground, Amelia heard Sadie screaming behind her.

All the way home, Amelia prayed for God to intervene. She'd never meant to encourage rebellion. It had only been a Bible story. Tears of remorse made hot tracks down her cheeks as she reached the house. She dismounted and handed her horse to a stable boy before dragging her reluctant feet to Papa's study.

Inside the stuffy room, time slowed to a crawl. The bright afternoon faded to dusk, and still Papa did not come. Just when she thought he'd forgotten her, the door opened, and he stomped in.

Amelia stood up, uncertain what to say. She watched as he went to the far side of his large chestnut desk and dropped into his chair, leaning back and gazing at the ceiling as if searching for the right words. Then he looked at her, his eyes colder than she'd ever seen them. She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up his hand.

“I've obviously pampered you too much, daughter. I learned today that you do not understand the least thing about our livelihood, our very existence. I might be able to make allowances for some young woman who lived far away and knew nothing of plantation life, but I cannot abide treachery within my own household.”

“But, Papa—”

“No, not a single word will I entertain from you, Amelia Montgomery. Your behavior this afternoon was inexcusable. I have tolerated your liberal ideas for far too long, thinking you would grow out of your ridiculous beliefs once you understood the way of the world. But I was mistaken. I cannot and will not tolerate your rebellious ways any longer. I've made arrangements for you to travel to Knoxville to stay with your aunt and uncle for a year or so. They have offered to have you visit several times, but your mother and I always turned them down. We didn't know we were raising such an ungrateful, spoiled child.”

“What about Sadie?” Amelia slipped the question in as her father took a breath.

“She's no concern of yours any longer.” He pushed himself out of his chair and strode toward her, anger mottling his face. “You're going to be too busy getting ready for your journey.”

Fresh tears flowed down her cheeks. Did her father hate her? He must. Why else would he send her away to live with people she barely knew? And what about her mother? What did she have to say about all this? Would she intervene on her daughter's behalf, or would she agree to the banishment?

“I spent the afternoon making plans with Gregory Talbot.” Her father had turned back to her, his expression as unyielding as his words. “Luke wants to join up with the army, but his father has convinced him to return to school in Knoxville for his final year. He'll be leaving on Friday. His father and I agreed that Luke will escort you to your aunt and uncle's home. I will go to Nashville tomorrow to make the arrangements for your trip and to telegraph your aunt and uncle about your impending visit. I've decided you may take your maid, Tabitha, to keep you company and protect your reputation since you'll have to overnight in Chattanooga. You will board the train in Nashville two days hence. I trust that will allow you sufficient time to pack your things and say good-bye to your mother.” He sat down at his desk once again and straightened a stack of papers on its surface. “I did not inform the Talbots of your views and recent indiscretion, and I expect you to keep the information quiet, also. You're excused.”