Page 29

C lara listened as the fire snapped among fresh logs. She and Francine sat together while Mrs. Ramshaw showed off Morrie’s reading capabilities to the Reverend.

“What brings you to Harrodsburg?”

“Want to know something scandalous?” Francine shuffled beside her. “I’m running from a man.”

“Oh, is he dangerous?”

“No, only irritating. He gives me these prolonged stares and polite nods. I can hardly abide them.”

“I suppose he’s not handsome enough to be permitted these attentions.”

“Well a few weeks ago, he stepped onto the street with ink stains across his upper lip. Can you even imagine?”

She certainly could. Clara laughed at the image. “He did not see himself or might have avoided it. I live in fear of unknowingly decorating myself with ink.”

“I hope I did not offend. Honestly, it was not so much the ink stain as the staring and lurking. He shows up at the most inopportune times and places.”

“For your sake, I pray he does not follow you here.”

“I have forbidden Mother to tell him my whereabouts, but our circle know Daniel’s um...unique circumstance and to where he’s been booted.”

“Booted?” What was this ?

“I’m sure I mustn’t speak of it. He’d kill me and send me back. And that would mean the continued advances of an unwanted man.”

“I am sad for your slighted man.” Clara smiled.

“Don’t be. I am praying another woman catches his fancy and soon.”

Clara laughed again. She liked Reverend Merrick’s sister. What did she look like? As tall as he? Dark hair? Was she the least bit fashionable?

“What color dress do you wear?” It was out of her lips before she realized.

“Brown. It’s all rumpled from the trunk. Oh, I am weary. I long to be in bed, though I hate to take leave of you. Mrs. Ramshaw has mentioned your desire to knit.”

“Has she?”

“I’d be happy to teach you. We can start any time you say.”

“Thank you...but, I may be taking a trip of my own soon.”

“Really? Where will you go?”

“Only to Louisville. Not far.”

A deeper voice invaded. “You travel to Louisville? That specialist again?”

Clara jumped. She had not sensed his presence. “Yes, the specialist. Your sister is very tired, I believe.”

“May I offer my service as escort in your father’s absence?”

“The specialist will take me back with him.”

“He cannot examine you here? How very strange. Is he a family friend?”

“Not exactly. Your sister was just telling me—”

He cut in. “When do you leave?”

“On the afternoon train. I shall be quite alright of course.”

He grunted uncertainty. “Well, Francine. Let’s get you home and let this family settle in for the night. ”

Clara stood, relieved. The less that was known about her choice, the better. No one’s business but her own anyway.

THE MORE SHE THOUGHT about it the more Clara seethed. Daniel’s tone reeked of self-righteousness. Didn’t Jenny have something else to do other than beat batter, pretending not to hear? “Does no one keep a confidence anymore? You are not my guardian.”

“Mrs. Ramshaw would risk her life for you. She told me your plan because she fears for your safety.” His words snipped like sharp scissors, spoiling any generous thought she’d ever had towards him. “It isn’t right for you to go off with a stranger. Not proper.”

“It should be of little concern to her.”

“It is every concern of hers! Pardon me, Miss Stanton, but I thought you were more intelligent than that.”

“I refuse to be insulted.” Clara tried to leave, Reverend Merrick held her in place.

“You and I are not finished.”

“Aren’t we?” She turned her face away.

“All we ask is that you wait for your father’s approval. The surgery may be dangerous.”

Dr. Rosenthal had not mentioned danger. In fact, he’d only been encouraging.

“What if you died? Mrs. Ramshaw would have to answer for that.”

“I take my life in my own hands, Reverend . If my family was concerned about my life, they wouldn’t have left me alone.”

“Mrs. Ramshaw informed me of this possible surgery for fear she would not be able to physically stop you. She’s scared out of her wits.” He puffed. “After taking off on that horse, who can blame her?”

“Dr. Rosenthal has written to Father. ”

“Then you must wait for his answer. I will not let you get on that train with that man.”

“If I wait any longer, then the chances for recovery are slim.”

“Is that what he told you?”

Not hardly, but the strain of waiting pulled like a horse against his bit.

“I pity you, but sometimes God asks us to do hard things.”

“Hard things! Do you even know what I’ve suffered? You talk of honor. And respect for my father’s wishes, for Mrs. Ramshaw’s feelings, and yet my deepest desire—my deepest need must go unmet, all because...all because...why Reverend Merrick? Why do you desire to keep this from me? Your Jesus...”

“My Jesus, Clara?”

“Your Jesus healed the blind. It doesn’t make sense that you don’t also jump at the chance for my possible healing.”

“Clara.” Reverend Merrick’s hands lifted from her arms, the chill of the room replacing his warmth. “I pray for your healing every day. But your eyes aren’t the only part of you that matters to me. Or Him.”

She felt the pressure of a finger beneath her eye, catching a tear.

“When Dr. Rosenthal comes, I will explain it to him. Any gentleman worth his salt would not ask you to compromise yourself in such a way.”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Clara,” he whispered. “Don’t give up hope. Your father will respond soon, very likely. We can discuss it then. We will help you, do right by you.”

Clara wiped her eyes. “You—Mrs. Ramshaw—you fear you cannot trust me. That I will run on the slightest whim?”

Silence. “You can’t blame her.”

“I am not a child, Reverend Merrick.”

“One glance gives that away. ”

“I...” A bell sounded at the door.

“I think that was Mrs. Ramshaw letting the doctor in. Yes, he is here.”

Clara nodded.

“Have you a handkerchief? Jenny’s apple butter—good stuff.” He lightly touched a place on her chin and gently wiped away the smear.

Doctor Rosenthal was all business. Very congenial to Mrs. Ramshaw and Reverend Merrick.

“Is it true what Miss Stanton says, that the longer she waits for the operation, the less likely for recovery?”

“I can’t really know that until I actually operate, but in most cases, time is of essence.” She could sense the concern in his voice.

“How long ago did you write to Mr. Stanton?” Mrs. Ramshaw asked.

“A month ago, to be exact.”

Clara gave a soft smile.

“It will be at least two more weeks before he sees it,” Reverend Merrick said. Fingers drummed on the table beside her.

Clara folded her arms. “Will two months make a difference, Dr. Rosenthal?”

“We will pray it won’t.”

He patted Clara’s hand. “I must go or I will miss the train.”

“Do you mind if I walk with you?” asked Reverend Merrick.

“Certainly not.”

They walked out the door leaving a cold draft.

Clara went back to her room. Her satchel lay across the bed, latched and ready to move on to her new life. But she could be patient. It was only eight weeks. Please, Father. Please respond with haste.

CLARA TAPPED HER FINGERS across the windowsill. Why hadn’t she thought of it sooner? A bargain might be struck. “Everyone will get what they want. Everyone happy.”

An hour later, Reverend Merrick sat across from her. Clara poured tea, silently counting how many seconds filled the cup.

“How is Francine settling in?” A gentle volley.

“She’s been asleep most of the day.”

“I suspect a trip from New York is no picnic.”

“Not the least bit pleasant. What is it you wanted to see me about?”

“I want to know what you discussed with Dr. Rosenthal on the way to the train station.”

“Oh, the normal conversation one has with a new acquaintance. The weather mostly.”

“I thought since conversations were no longer considered particularly private, you might have some information to offer me in exchange.”

“In exchange for my mistake? I apologized for that, Clara. I did not mean you harm. I was overly tired that day.”

“And I am tired of being left out of conversations about me.”

“That is no one’s choice but yours.”

“I’d rather not repeat this morning’s disagreement. We both know that even though I am a woman, I am bound to obey the rules of others. I simply want to know if your discussion concerned me.”

He remained silent.

“You did talk about me. I can sense it.”

“I will put it bluntly, Clara. We only discussed you and your operation in medical terms. Details your sensitive ears might not be able to endure.”

“I daresay he won’t turn me into some sort of monster. ”

“He showed me where the cuts are to be made. Scars will remain. As you know, there are always risks.” He swallowed the tea. “Infection...fever...what if you aren’t strong enough to fight it off?”

“Things can’t get any darker, can they?”

“True, from your perspective. I, for one, want you to live.”

“How kind.” Her tone betrayed her feelings.

“A friend of mine died from having a simple surgery. He was supposed to be recovered in months, instead, I stood by his grave after two weeks. Two weeks, Clara, and his life was over. Just a lad. Sixteen.”

Why did he want to frighten her?

“I know you resent my involvement, but Mrs. Ramshaw’s request could not be refused.”

Enough. “Reverend Merrick, I have an offer to make.” It was time.

“An offer?”

Clara sipped her tea. She must get this right.

“You want to steal a Stanton slave. Morrie. You and Mrs. Ramshaw wish to set her and her child free. As for me, I wish to have this operation.” She paused.

“If you let me do this now, I will not inform Father of your abolitionist activities. Nor will I inform our overseer or the sheriff. You may take as many slaves as you want. I don’t care. ”

Silence met her. Didn’t he hear what she told him? He should be elated.

Fury edged his voice. “And if Mrs. Ramshaw and I do not comply, you will put both of our lives in danger and give us away? And force Morrie to remain forever a slave?”