Northern Star (18 page)

Closing her eyes tightly, she forced out tears as she tried to make her head stop throbbing. She knew she must fight alone against Wade. There was no one to help her. Somewhere deep inside, that spirit which always urged her not to give up still whispered. She had to clear her head enough to think.

Noma returned with two cups of warm milk and a spoon of sleeping powder. She placed the tray by Perry’s bed
and added the powder to one cup. “I’ll put this much in, Mr. Williams, and she’ll sleep like a baby till mornin’.”

Wade moved to the door, impatient to leave. “Take good care of my bride, Noma. I’ll be back about nine tomorrow.”

As he closed the door Noma moved closer to Perry. She lovingly arranged the covers. She was confident her betrayal was for Perry’s benefit. Noma chimed softly as she worked, “Everything is going to be fine, my baby, just wait and see. Now let’s drink our milk and go to sleep.” Noma must have said these very words thousands of times over the years, yet tonight they held no comfort for Perry.

Opening her eyes, she stared at Noma. She couldn’t hate someone she’d loved all her life, yet her trust in the old woman had vanished.

Lifting her hand slowly, she pointed to the dying fire.

Noma understood. “You must have a chill. I’ll add a log. Just you rest, it’ll only take a second.”

When Noma moved to the fire, Perry’s eyes never left her huge frame. Unnoticed, bruised fingers traveled up to the tray of milk. Silently she moved her cup backward on the tray and exchanged it with Noma’s cup of milk.

Her private war had began, and she knew that no matter what happened, she would never surrender.

Perry pretended sleep long after she heard Noma’s rhythmic snoring coming from the other room. She knew the sleeping powder had done its job but feared Wade might return to check on her once more before leaving. She would wait and plan until the right moment.

As the ancient clock in the hall chimed twice, Perry removed her bed covers. Painfully she slipped out of bed, every muscle in agony. She slowly moved to the triple-mirrored dressing table with only the firelight to guide her. Shadowy light danced across her bruised and swollen face. A newborn sadness reflected in her huge brown eyes. She must think rapidly and very logically if she were to survive. Another foolish mistake could cost her her life. She cradled her knees under her chin and began to rock, as she had as a child. She could pretend she was curled inside her mother’s arms as they rocked back and forth in a huge chair.

Her mother seemed very close to her in this room, where everything Perry touched her mother had once held and cherished. The lacy room was now a prison, and the knowledge that her mother had once escaped was the only thread of hope that kept Perry’s mind bound to rational thought.

Every ounce of her being willed her to escape. Her first
problem would be getting out of the house. She knew a man slept below the balcony, so she must leave through the front. Hopefully Wade wouldn’t have thought to place a guard out front.

Reaching up to touch her now blackened eye, an idea formed in her mind. There were only two people she could count on, two men who owed her favors and might be willing to repay them.

Carefully Perry pulled a few coals from the fire with a small shovel. Placing the coals on the hearth to cool, Perry moved to her wardrobe. She rummaged through the bottom of her clothes in search of the small bag Molly had given her. As she pulled out the bag she paused, listening once more for Noma’s breathing. A gentle snore drifted from the small room. Digging inside the bag, Perry pulled out the rough boy’s clothing she had worn when leaving Ravenwood months ago. She slipped into them silently.

Returning to the hearth, Perry tested the coals. Finding them only warm now, she began to rub the black all over her hands and face. She knew this would fool no one after dawn, but maybe she would be safe tonight. With a darkened face, anyone seeing her move in the night might think her to be only a black boy.

Perry collected her nightgown and slippers and walked to the beautiful dressing table. Opening a side drawer, she removed her small knife and placed it in her pocket. A cold determination vibrated around her. She’d need all her wits if she were going to break free.

She constructed the morning’s events in her mind. Noma would search the room and find nothing missing, except her nightgown and slippers. Noma wouldn’t suspect Perry of wearing the old clothes. She’d pulled them from the trash weeks ago and hidden them. At the time she decided it would be sentimental to keep them, so she’d hidden them away in the bottom of the wardrobe.

With swollen, bandaged fingers, Perry pulled the side drawer completely out, revealing Hunter’s gold necklace,
hidden in a small well under the drawer. She had almost told Noma of Hunter a hundred times, but each time she’d felt confused about her feelings and decided to think them out before talking about him to anyone. Now she was glad Noma knew nothing of Hunter or Abram. Perry wouldn’t have to worry about being betrayed again.

Pulling her huge floppy hat low, she stuffed her gown and slippers into her baggy shirt. She would need money, but the little she’d taken before had vanished from her dressing table. Wade Williams again! Somehow she would survive. Any hardship would be an improvement over tonight. She also knew her boots would have to remain behind, for they might be missed in the morning.

In black-stockinged feet, Perry stepped out into the hall. She felt her way along the wall to the front stairs. She would leave from the front of the house, as far away from the guard below her balcony as possible.

In darkness, Perry slowly fumbled her way down the stairs to the dining room. The windows in the room faced the front of the house and would be easy to open. Her grandfather had probably drunk himself to sleep in his chair, as always; yet she moved silently past his study door, not caring if she ever saw him again. She had tried these past months to love him, but he was only a shell of a man. He was more content with ghosts of the past than with people in the present.

The large French windows of the dining room opened easily, as if in encouragement of her escape. Perry stepped from the dining room onto the porch, now shadowed from the moonlight by the three huge oaks. The ancient trees seemed to be lending their support to her flight.

Perry bore no smile of confidence, as she had a few hours ago. She knew she must now use every sense about her to escape or face death. Her swollen lip and half-closed eye were constant reminders of the danger she was in. This was no game but a fight for her life.

She stepped from the porch and turned north toward the
creek. Within a few minutes she was standing beside the slippery bank. Thanks to recent rains, the water was deeper and swifter than usual.

Pulling her gown and slippers from concealment inside her shirt, she lay the slippers in front of her, as though someone had stepped from them into the water. She ripped the collar and neck of her gown before throwing it into the middle of the stream. The gown floated like a ghost on top of the dancing water for a moment before being sucked into the current. Because of the frequent bends in the stream, the gown would soon snag on a branch or rock.

Silently she prayed this ploy would work. She had Old James and Sarah to thank for the idea, for they both loved telling anyone who would listen about a runaway they’d known who had drowned while trying to cross the stream after a big rain. Perry now hoped Wade would head north in his search for her. Wade might try that direction first, because it was in the opposite direction from the church where he planned to marry her. She doubted he would suspect that by dawn she would be in sight of the church. As he searched north, hopefully he would find her slippers and torn gown. Then he would believe she’d drowned. If she was to avoid Wade, Perry knew she must remain dead to all. She would have liked to save Noma heartache, but she could no longer trust the woman who had raised her.

Leaving the stream, she moved swiftly across the fields to the south. She knew the country well, after having ridden every day for weeks. The stars lit her way as she ran, almost invisibly, toward the Williamses’ farm and the church that lay just beyond.

*   *   *

As dawn touched the horizon Perry saw the outline of the Williamses’ home. She’d slowed to a walk almost an hour before, but her lungs still burned and her feet were too numb to hurt. Now her spirits lifted as she realized she was within minutes of her goal. John Williams had
said Hunter and Abram’s balloon had landed between his farm and the church. She had to find it before dawn awakened everyone. She wasn’t sure how Abram and Hunter could help her, but they were her one hope.

Perry made a wide circle around the farmhouse. She guessed Hunter would be staying with his grandparents, but with any luck Abram would be with the balloon.

The pale glow of morning cast the countryside in soft, golden light. She moved as silently as a bird’s shadow across the land. With the farmhouse behind her, she crossed the meadow. Within half a mile Perry climbed a small ridge and spotted the bright red, white, and blue of the balloon canvas, spread open in the field. A balloon basket sat beside the silk folds. For a moment she froze, awed by the beauty of the brightly colored material against the lush green of summer.

Rounding the basket, Perry saw a small fire and smelled coffee brewing. Her heart warmed when she saw Abram, who stood, silently acknowledging her quiet approach without surprise.

Perry stepped forward, leaving only the fire between her and Abram.

“I guess I’d know that old hat anywhere. How are you, miss?” Abram froze with his mouth open as Perry raised her eyes to his. For the first time she saw shock in the black man’s face.

She shook her head slowly, too tired and hurt to speak. Silently she watched his gaze take in her black eye, her swollen lip, the dried blood caking across her forehead and at the corner of her mouth, barely hidden by the remaining traces of black coal dust. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see pity in his face.

“Miss Perry?” he finally whispered, as if he doubted his eyes.

“Help me, Abram,” she pleaded as her huge brown eyes filled with tears and her legs gave way beneath her.

Abram caught her before she hit the ground and lowered
her gently to a blanket beside the fire. “I don’t know what kind of trouble you’re in, Miss Perry, but I’d put my life between you and future harm.”

Perry collapsed beside the fire. Her legs hurt from walking miles, and her feet, though bloody, were numb. She stared at the torn stockings and for one foolish moment cried for their loss. She’d reached the point now where her body seemed foreign to her and even her pain was dulled.

Abram handed her a steaming cup of coffee and gently wrapped a blanket over her shoulders. A memory returned to her of being wrapped in another blanket months ago when she had slept outside a burned-out hull of a farmhouse as her brother worked on Hunter. Perry knew without asking who had covered her that night. “Thank you,” she whispered for the two times Abram had cared.

After half of her cup was empty, Perry tried to speak clearly through her swollen lips. “Abram, I’ve nowhere else to turn.” A tear rolled down Perry’s cheek, cleaning a line of the coal dust from her face.

Abram listened silently as Perry told him of Wade and her grandfather. She paused frequently, trying to pull her swollen lip into place. As she told of the previous evening’s events the last bit of energy passed from her body.

“Can you help me get away, Abram?” she pleaded.

Crossing his arms in tightly held anger, Abram hissed, “Wade will pay for what he’s done to you. When I think of how grand you looked the last time I saw you…He’ll pay dearly long before his soul rots in hell, but first we’ve got to get you to safety.”

Perry swallowed the last of her coffee. “He must not know you’ve helped me. I don’t want to risk your life—or Hunter’s.”

“I have no fear of Wade Williams, and I assure you Hunter feels the same. He has crossed his cousin many times before and will again, but today might not be the best day to stand and fight.” He glanced at the farmhouse, as if there were another consideration at play that she knew
nothing about. “We’ll get you safely away today, but then where will you go, Miss Perry?” Abram asked.

“I could go back to Philadelphia. Molly will take me in,” Perry whispered. “I’ll find a place to go, somehow.”

Abram smiled as the idea struck him. “I’ll get you out of sight for now. You need a few hours of sleep. Then you’re going up in the balloon with us. We’re heading north, toward home. Wade can search the countryside, if he has a mind to, but we’ll be drifting over it.”

Perry tried to smile but her lip hurt too much to move. This was more wonderful than she had hoped.

“Now, Miss Perry”—Abram paced as he thought aloud—“Hunter would be angry if he knew what Wade did to you. Best we wait till we’re in the air before we tell him. If Hunter knew Wade beat you like that, he’d start a fight between them that might end in one of them dying.” He stopped and looked at her, debating how much to say. “There are some very important reasons why Hunter must get out of here without any trouble today.”

She was too tired to understand the riddle he gave.

Resuming his pacing, he went on. “If it were a fair fight, I wouldn’t worry, but I’ve never known Wade to play fair. He’d like nothing better than to see Hunter dead—and nowhere for all the Kirkland money to go than to the next of kin. Since Hunter’s an only child, guess who that’d be.”

Perry’s eyes filled with fear. “Abram, how can I fly off in that little basket without Hunter knowing about it?”

“I know just where to put you.” He laughed. “You can sleep till we’re high up among the clouds.”

She followed him to the basket. Ropes lay everywhere, as did supplies. Abram lifted her into the four-foot-high basket. Even though he was gentle, every muscle in Perry’s body screamed in pain until he stood her on her feet inside the basket. She was surprised at the room inside, having thought the space would be very small and cramped. About a foot below the upper rail the basket
bulged slightly, then returned to the rail measurements at the bottom. This bulge made a handy storage area. Abram pulled a blanket and rope from a nearby pile of supplies. He tied the rope to the railing, then tied two corners of the blanket to the other end of his rope. Moving about five feet to the other corner, he repeated the procedure, making a blanket hammock. He adjusted the ropes until the hammock swung into the basket.