He gazed at the woman sitting in the seat facing him. No longer dressed in black, Sarah was wearing a jade-green silk dress, trimmed in ecru lace. Its tailored cut emphasized her slim waist and full bosom. Her summery straw hat had a wide brim and was decorated with peacock and quail feathers.
“It’ll be good to see Job again,” she commented. “Mother’s last letter was bubbling with praise for him. Not yet four years old and already he’s reading.”
The chug of the steam locomotive echoed off the dense growth of forest lining the raised rail bed.
“I’ll be glad when we get through this accursed swamp.” Sarah wiped her face with a white-linen handkerchief as she stared out the open window. “At least we don’t have to put up with the swarms of insects we encountered last time.”
Or redheaded assassins, Buck thought.
He wished he could erase all recollection of Cedar Creek. The best he could offer was pleasant future memories. Reaching across for her hand, he said softly, “We’ll be in Columbia before dark, sweetheart.”
She curled her fingers into his and grinned at him. sitting beside her, Janey studiously read her Shakespeare.
To their delight Sarah’s mother, Miriam and Gus Grayson were at the station to welcome them. Tears of joy filled the women’s eyes as they laughed and embraced. Buck and Gus clasped each other’s hands and shoulders and exchanged greetings.
Standing back Buck enjoyed the scene before him. The lines in Ruth Greenwald’s face had deepened during their separation, but her bearing and demeanor hadn’t changed. She hugged her daughter and visibly trembled with emotion, clearly reluctant to release her.
“Oh, Momma,” Sarah murmured between sobs. “I missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you too, sweetheart. Everything at home is . . . all right? The brokerage—”
Sarah nodded. “Sold, and the house will soon be as well. The Lord be praised, keeping busy kept me sane.”
“Your father would be so proud of how you’ve handled everything.” Ruth sniffled. “So proud.”
“Now, there’ll be none of that,” Miriam decreed. “This is a happy day. A joyous day.” She turned to Sarah. “My dear, you look absolutely stunning. That color suits your eyes so perfectly.”
“Come on, ladies, let’s be on our way,” Gus prompted as he motioned everyone into the waiting carriage. “It’ll be dark soon. Dinner’s waiting.”
“Men!” Miriam exclaimed. “Always thinking about their stomachs.”
The chatter among them didn’t stop or even pause for breath on the short ride to the Grayson residence.
“Momma, where is your house?”
“Around the corner and about a quarter mile from the Graysons. Smaller, of course. But I fell in love with it the moment Miriam told me it was for sale. And at a bargain price.” Behind her hand she whispered, “It was owned by a lady novelist who smoked cigars and drank straight Bourbon by the glassful. She’s dead now, of course. Eighty years of intemperate living will do that. ”
Sarah laughed. “I guess I have some catching up to do.”
Minutes after pulling up in front of the house on Senate Street, they were drinking mint juleps in the drawing room served by a young black man who was an inch or two taller than Buck and rail-thin. Overly deferential, he was trying almost too hard to please. Buck wondered what his background might be. He seemed self-conscious in his livery.
After the servant had returned to his station by the sideboard, Buck asked quietly, “A new addition to your household?”
Miriam nodded. “His name’s Gibbeon. I found him sleeping in an alley off Pendleton Street. I had him tagged as a runaway.”
“She’s got a heart of gold,” Gus reminded Buck.
“I have a heart,” she protested. “He was hungry and homeless. What was I supposed to do, leave him on the street to starve to death?”
Gus put his arm around her and squeezed gently. “I’m glad you only take in people and not stray cats. Come to think of it though, I’d love you for that too.”
She gazed up at him, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
“Uh-oh. I think I just said the wrong thing. Miriam, please, no cats.”
She laughed. “Silly man. You know they make me sneeze.”
Gus stared up at the ceiling. “Thank you, Lord.”
“Is Gibbeon from around here?” Buck asked.
“Born on the Hardwick plantation. Was about seven, he reckons, when his mother got in trouble. The old man, Chalmers, apparently wanted her in his bed. She refused. He wasn’t one to take no for an answer, but when she struck him, she went too far. He could legally have killed her, but he didn’t. Instead he took Gibbeon and sold him in the slave market in Charleston, then refused to tell her who had bought him or where he’d gone.”
Buck cringed. He remembered Chalmers Hardwick, the patriarch of the family, a tightfisted tyrant whose wife had committed suicide a few months after the last of their five sons was born. Over the years each of the boys had rebelled against him, sometimes violently, and been disowned. To Buck’s knowledge, none had ever expressed regret at the loss of their inheritances.
“Chalmers still alive?” Buck asked.
“Died last year,” Gus replied, “of an apoplectic stroke. His youngest boy was killed at Chancellorsville in ‘63, and I heard the oldest was blinded at Gettysburg a few months later. Not sure what’s happened to the other three. Heard the middle boy went up north and fought with Grant.” He shook his head. “Can’t say if it’s true, of course. Just a rumor. None of them showed up for the funeral. Then Sherman came through a few months later and burned the place down to the ground, including the slave quarters.”
“You said Gibbeon was sold away,” Buck reminded Miriam. “Where was he and what’s he doing here now?”
Her face sagged in sadness. “After leaving Hardwick he was sold several more times. Apparently he wasn’t very cooperative with his masters. Eventually ended up in southern Mississippi. When he got word the war was almost over, he ran away and managed to get back here.”
“Looking for his mother?”
“Unfortunately he was too late. She’d run away several times over the years, intending to find him, but it was hopeless. She always got caught and whipped when she was returned to Chalmers. Finally, about two years ago she managed to get word to me that she wanted my help.”
“The Underground Railroad?”
Miriam nodded. “It took a month of planning, but we finally got her out, bound for Canada. Whether she ever made it . . .” She shrugged. “Gibbeon’s asked me to help him find her.”
“And of course you’ve said yes.” Buck realized how proud he was of this strong, sweet woman. No wonder Gus was in love with her.
“I’ve written to my contacts in Toronto and Montreal, but I haven’t heard anything back yet. With the mail these days . . .”
“What are the chances—”
She shrugged again.
“My sources tell me,” Gus remarked, “that you’ll be joining Dr Meyer here in our fair city. I hope you’ll favor me with a special discount.”
Buck laughed. “Anytime you want my medical advice, I’ll be happy to give you a special discount on top of a friendly one. I believe added together they equal a hundred percent.”
“A bargain.” Grayson winked at his wife.
“I should forewarn you, however,” Buck went on, “that I deal primarily with disorders of the mind and nervous system.”