Chapter Seventeen

Fuller Plantation, South Carolina
November 1862

As soon as it was dark, Grady crept out of his cabin and hurried through the trees to the slave cemetery to talk to Delia. Mr. Browning often patrolled the plantation grounds at night, armed with his rifle, and Grady hoped that the overseer wasn’t patrolling tonight. As word of the planned escape had spread, everyone on Slave Row had been trying to act normal, trying to pretend that tomorrow was just another workday. But Grady noticed the extra tension and excitement in the air as everyone waited for the moon to set, waited to be free. He wondered if Mr. Browning had noticed. The overseer had several sets of shackles in his toolshed. He could easily chain up all the leading men for the night, to prevent them from running.

The cemetery was very dark, shaded by a grove of oak trees. Grady saw Delia standing in the fenced-in yard beside the little grave. He hoped that she had come to her daughter’s grave to say good-bye before she escaped with him. Grady had spent all afternoon trying to figure out a way to convince Delia and Anna to leave with him tonight. If there was ever a time when he wished he could pray, this was it. He went to Delia and stood beside her, waiting for her to speak first.

“You got yourself a good plan?” she asked. “Did you take your time and think everything through? I know you heard plenty of stories about all the other slaves who’ve tried running. You know all the things that can go wrong and what will happen if they catch you?”

“I know the risks,” Grady replied. “Me and the others have been talking about this and planning it ever since we came here from Beaufort. Tonight’s our chance, Delia. We can do it. We’re gonna be free.”

“Inside your heart is where you’re free,” she said softly. “And that only happens when you know the Lord. If your sins are forgiven and you’re His child, then you’re free. If not, then even if you make it over to the Yankee side, you still ain’t gonna be free.”

Grady struggled to control his impatience, unwilling to argue with Delia. “We’re waiting until the moon sets,” he said. “Are you and Anna coming with us?”

Delia gazed down at the grave without answering. In the long silence that followed, Grady was aware of the sighing wind, the rustle of Spanish moss in the branches overhead, the murmur of insects.

“I don’t come here to this grave to be sad,” Delia finally said. “I come here to find hope. I know that my baby has gone on to a better life.”

Grady stifled a groan. She was going to start talking about the Lord and how they’d all have a better life in heaven someday. He didn’t want to hear it. He wanted a better life now. “Can we talk about heaven some other time, Delia?” he asked as gently as he could.

“I don’t mean heaven, honey. If you was to dig up this grave, know what you’d find in that pine box?” She smiled up at him and her eyes filled with tears. “Rocks—ain’t nothing inside it but rocks.”

“Rocks?” he repeated.

“That’s what I said, ain’t it? My baby girl ain’t buried in this here ground.”

“Well, where’s she buried, then?”

“She ain’t dead, Grady. She’s gone free.”

“You ain’t making sense, Delia.”

“Remember how I told you that her daddy was a white man? How she’s just as light-skinned as you are? Well, one day when my baby was five years old, I met some real kind Quaker folks who were visiting down here from the state of Pennsylvania. They offered to take my little girl up north with them, so she wouldn’t have to be a slave no more. Said they’d adopt her as their very own daughter and everything. So I let her go.”

Tears spilled down Delia’s face, and for a long moment she couldn’t speak. Grady wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. They stood side by side, looking at the grave in silence.

“They dressed my baby all up in pretty little white girls’ clothes,” Delia said when she could continue, “and they drove away with her one night. I told everybody that my baby took sick, and then I let on like she died. Had a funeral for her and everything. But she’s gone north, honey. She’s free.”

Grady remembered how he’d been torn from his mother against her will, and he marveled at the strength of Delia’s love to let her child go. “You set her free,” he said softly.

“Hardest thing I ever done, because I loved that girl like my own life. This here is the second hardest—saying good-bye to you.

I guess you know how much I love you, too.”

Grady looked down at her and nodded, barely able to speak. “Come with me, Delia. Please.”

“No,” she said simply. “No, honey, I can’t do that.”

“Why not? We’ll both be free, just like your daughter. Maybe we can go up north and find her. All we have to do is cross the Rebel lines. You know I’ll take good care of you. I’ll carry you on my back if I have to. Please, Delia. I can’t leave you behind.”

“Well, you’re just gonna have to, because I ain’t going. I prayed about it, and the Lord told me I still got work to do for Him right here.” She freed herself from his embrace and abruptly walked away.

“Wait … Where are you going?”

“I have something to give you before you go,” she called over her shoulder. “Come down to the cabin with me and I’ll show you.” She walked so briskly that Grady had to hurry to keep up with her.

He drew a deep breath as he stepped into the cabin they’d shared for so many years, as if he could inhale all the memories they’d shared, as well, and store them inside. He’d only been back once since Missus Fuller sent him to Slave Row. Now he gazed around at the familiar rooms, remembering his first day on this plantation—how Delia had pulled him into her arms and allowed him to cry.

“I can’t leave you, Delia,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Yes, you can, honey. Here … these are for you.” She handed him a pile of folded clothing with a hat lying on top. “I borrowed some of Massa Fuller’s clothes from his bureau up in the Big House.” Grady recognized the tailored suit and starched white shirt that Massa sometimes wore to church on Sundays.

“What’s this for?”

“Massa ain’t needing them, right now,” she said. “I know you’re taller and bigger through the shoulders than he is, but they’ll do. When my daughter put on white girls’ clothes she fooled everybody. You put these on, and I know you can pass for a white man if nobody’s looking too close. Keep Massa’s hat on your head so they don’t see your hair. Them Rebels ain’t never gonna know you’re a runaway slave. You’ll be free, honey.”

Grady couldn’t imagine it. He was certain that for the rest of his life he would always be looking over his shoulder, always expecting to be caught and dragged back and whipped. He longed to know what it would be like to walk down the street, a free man. But he was not at all certain that he wanted to pose as a white man—the very race he hated—in order to do it.

“There’s just one favor I want to ask when you go,” she said.

“Anything, Delia.”

“Take Kitty with you.”

“Anna? But she said this afternoon that she was afraid to run.”

“I know. That poor child can’t make up her mind what to do. I know it ain’t none of my business, but she loves you, Grady. Whether you love her or not, take her with you.”

“I do love her,” he said softly. He was surprised to admit it. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her behind, maybe never seeing her again. He longed for both of them to be free so they finally could be husband and wife. “I’ll gladly take her—but how do I convince her to come?”

Delia sighed. “I’m going up to the Big House now, to take care of Massa’s baby. I’m gonna send your wife back down here. Show her you love her, Grady. Give yourself to her tonight. I know you always been afraid to love her, afraid you’ll lose her like you lost everybody else, but the white folks can never keep you apart once the two of you are free. And it don’t matter if she has your baby now, because he’ll be free, too. If you give Kitty your love tonight, I know she’ll make up her mind to go with you when the moon sets.”

Grady pulled Delia into his arms and held her tightly, bracing himself for another loss. He wondered if he would ever see this beloved little woman again, or hold her in his arms. When he pulled back to look at her face one last time, they both were crying. “I wish you’d come with us, Delia.”

“I’ll never stop praying for you, honey. Not for a single day. Not as long as I have breath in this old body.”

Delia wept as she walked away from Grady and hurried across the yard to the Big House. O Lord, this was hard! Just as hard as that day, more than thirty years ago, when she had let her baby go. Now Delia was saying good-bye to two more of her children, because that’s just what Grady and Kitty were to her—beloved children. But they weren’t hers to hang on to, any more than her first daughter had been. They belonged to the Lord, and she had to leave them in His hands.

She hoped she had done the right thing in telling Grady to sleep with Kitty tonight. She hoped it would change Kitty’s mind. Surely she would go with him once she saw how much Grady loved her, wouldn’t she? Kitty did love him—Delia was certain of that. And he loved her—as much as that poor boy would allow himself to love anybody.

Delia longed to keep Grady here, keep both of them here. But Grady’s anger was growing more dangerous every day. If he didn’t get his freedom soon, if one more tragedy happened to him, his rage was going to explode, destroying him and anyone who got in his way. As much as Delia hated losing him, she knew that his wounds would never heal until he was free. And there was more hope for that healing to take place if he had Kitty in his life. In time, she could help soften all of his hatred with love and tenderness. Otherwise, letting Grady escape alone would be like turning a caged animal loose, bent on revenge.

“Lord, take care of them,” she prayed. “They’re in your hands.”

Delia thought of her real daughter, still remembering her as the five-year-old child she had said good-bye to, so long ago. But her baby would be all grown up by now. She was probably a mother herself. It was hard to imagine, but she would be as old as Massa Roger was. They’d been born only a month apart. The hardest thing was not knowing, never hearing from her baby or knowing for certain that she was all right. Delia would probably never know what became of Grady and Kitty, either, after she let them go.

O Lord, this was so hard.

Delia dried her tears before she went inside the Big House so that Kitty wouldn’t see them. She slowly climbed the stairs to the nursery where Kitty was holding baby Richard in her arms, humming softly as she rocked him to sleep.

“You make up your mind about going with the others tonight?” Delia asked her.

Kitty nodded. “I thought it all over like you said, Delia—all the way back to the beginning. But no matter how much I want to be with Grady in the end, the story just ain’t gonna end up like that. I ran off once before with my mama and papa, and … and it ended …” She couldn’t finish. “I’m scared, Delia. I’m just so scared.”

“I know, honey. I know you are.” She lifted the baby from Kitty’s arms and laid him in his cradle.

“Are you going with Grady?” Kitty asked.

Delia didn’t answer. She patted the baby’s back until he settled down to sleep again, then she put her arm around Kitty’s waist. “Honey, I think you should go with him. You know Grady’s gonna take real good care of you. It ain’t gonna be like when your folks ran off. The Yankee soldiers are real close, this time. Soon as you reach them, you’ll be safe.”

“But what if we get caught?”

Delia didn’t say trust Jesus. She didn’t want to make a promise that wasn’t hers to keep. She knew that Kitty’s father had been a man of faith, trusting the Lord. Kitty would never believe her. Instead Delia said, “But what if you don’t get caught? Then you and Grady will be free. It’s what he wants more than anything else, what he needs.”

Kitty swallowed. “I didn’t tell him good-bye.”

“He’s waiting down at our cabin right now,” Delia said. “You go on down there and talk to him. I’ll stay here with the baby.”

“But what if Missy—” “I’ll tell her you went down to pack your own things. Heaven knows, you spent all day packing hers.”

Kitty hesitated.

“Go on, honey. I’ll be here when you get back. I ain’t going nowhere.”

Kitty had thought about escaping with Grady all afternoon, and she just couldn’t face the fear and the darkness that were her earliest memories. She’d made up her mind to return to Great Oak Plantation with Missy, where it was safe. Now she needed to convince Grady to stay where he would be safe, too.

There was no light burning in the cabin, no smoke rising from the chimney. She wondered if Delia was mistaken, if Grady had left already. But when she opened the door, she saw him sitting at the little table.

“I thought you’d be gone by now,” she said, relieved that he wasn’t.

“Not until the moon sets. Come with me, Anna.”

She slowly shook her head. “I can’t.”

Grady stood and moved toward her in the darkness. “May I hold you?” He didn’t wait for her reply but drew her into his arms, clinging to her as if he planned never to let go. And she didn’t want him to.

The tears she had held back all day began to flow. She wanted so badly to be with him this way forever. But her parents had wanted to be together, too. And her story would surely end the same way that theirs had. Kitty had seen the armed Rebel soldiers today. There were thousands of them. The slaves would surely be recaptured. She wept, overwhelmed with fear for Grady.

“Shh … it’s okay … it’s okay,” Grady murmured. His strong arms tightened around her as if he sensed her fear. She felt safe in his arms. But she had felt safe in her papa’s strong arms, too. The men who had chased Papa had been stronger. They’d carried guns. Papa hadn’t been strong enough to save her.

Then Grady started kissing her, his lips brushing her neck, her cheeks, her forehead. His lips found hers, and she forgot everything else but this moment and the overpowering love that she felt for him. Nothing, no one, could ever separate them.

“I love you, Anna,” he whispered. “I want to sleep with you tonight. Not because Missy wants us to, but because we want to.”

Kitty allowed him to lead her to the bed. Then he stopped, gazing down at her in the moonlight, waiting for her answer. His hands felt warm as they caressed her back, her shoulders, her face.

“We’re married, Anna. I belong to you. But only if this is what you want …”

She could scarcely breathe. “I do want it,” she whispered. She pulled him close, returning his kisses with her own. She trembled and didn’t know why.

“Don’t be scared,” he said. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”

Time and space seemed to vanish as Kitty lost herself in Grady’s love. Delia had told her that married love was a gift from God, and tonight Kitty wept with the sheer joy of it. She reveled in the safety and warmth of his arms, awestruck by the wonder of belonging to each other alone. Grady had allowed himself to be vulnerable with her, and she with him. The scars on his bare back were hers alone to soothe and caress.

All her life she’d been Missy Claire’s possession, but on this glorious night she belonged to Grady, the man she loved, and he belonged to her. She lay content in the warmth of his arms as the moon slowly crawled across the sky and sank below the horizon.

“I want to be with you this way forever,” Grady whispered. “Every night … the way we are right now.”

She wept and kissed him again, certain that he would stay with her now, to take care of her, protect her. It stunned her when he said, “Run away with me tonight. Please, Anna.”

Her heart pounded with terror at his words. She clung to him tightly, unable to voice her fears. In the midnight stillness, she heard an owl calling.

“That’s the signal,” Grady said. “The moon has set. Come on, the others are ready to go.” He climbed out of bed and began to dress. She watched him but she was unable to move, her limbs paralyzed with fear. She couldn’t seem to breathe.

Anna remembered her parents and the nightmare returned—not as a worn and faded dream this time, but as a living memory, vivid with color and sound. She felt her family’s fear as they slogged through the eerie swamps, heard the sound of horses and dogs splashing through the water behind them, gaining on them. Her papa’s breath had come in ragged gulps as he ran and ran with Anna in his arms. She saw the terror on her parents’ faces when they were captured.

Anna had always forgotten the end of the dream—until now. Now she saw each blow of the whip across her parents’ backs and heard their tortured screams. She relived all of it, all the way to the end, and heard her mama screaming her name as the men dragged her away. She saw Papa’s body dangling from the Great Oak Tree, his face a deep, violent purple.

“No …” she whispered. “Grady, no!”

He returned to the bedside and took her face in his hands, covering it with kisses. “Come on, Anna. Please, we have to hurry.”

She gripped his arms in desperation, clinging so tightly she saw him wince. “Stay here with me! If you love me, stay here! Where it’s safe!”

“I do love you. But we can be free.” He gently pried her hands loose and began picking up her clothes, handing them to her one by one. “Trust me, Anna. Everything will be all right.”

“How do you know that? How do you know we won’t be caught and whipped and tortured?” She couldn’t catch her breath. She felt as if she’d been running and running, just as her parents had.

“Anna, I have to go. I’ve waited all my life for this chance.

Please come with me.”

He began to dress her as if she was a child, slipping her frock over her head and patiently buttoning each button. The voice was Grady’s, but he was a stranger to her, dressed in a starched white shirt and a dark vest and suit coat. Why was he wearing white men’s clothes? He looked every inch an elegant gentleman, not a slave. She loved him, longed for him. But her fear was greater.

“Don’t go, Grady! Please don’t go! I don’t want to lose you! I don’t want you to die!”

“I won’t die. We’ll be free. Come with me Anna, please!” His dark eyes filled with tears. “Here’s your shoes. Hurry, put them on.”

She shook her head, clutching the shoes to her chest.

“Anna, I’m begging you! Come on!”

He bent to lift her into his arms and carry her, but the thought of being taken against her will made her hysterical. “No, no, no!”

He quickly put her down and backed away, covering her mouth with his hand. “Okay, okay … shh … shh …” Her mama had urged her to be quiet the same way as they’d crept through the swamp.

Outside, the owl hooted again, signaling to Grady. Anna sensed his urgency, his despair. He went to the door and gazed out, then turned back, his eyes pleading with her, his face wet with tears.

“Anna, please!”

She shook her head.

Grady wiped his eyes with his fist and drew a deep breath. “Good-bye, then,” he said.

And he ran out into the night.

Kitty couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t breathe normally for a very long time. The night was quiet except for the soft rustling of tree branches in the wind. There were no baying dogs, no pounding hooves, no gunshots echoing through the swamps. But Kitty couldn’t move from the bed.

She gazed down at the cornshuck mattress where Grady had lain beside her. She saw the dented imprint of his body.

But Grady was gone.