Free Path of Freedom by Jennifer Hudson Taylor Page B

witnessed a tender moment between Bruce and his mother. Tears streaked her weathered cheeks, and Bruce kissed each side, promising her he'd be home soon. He shook the hands of his father and his brother before grabbing them in a warm embrace.
    Jim assisted Marta into the dark compartment. She lay on her side with the quilt Flora had given her. “I'm ready!” she called. “Jim, come on. I don't wanna be in this dark alone.”
    “I'm coming.” He laughed, gave everyone a brief wave, and climbed in beside her. Bruce closed the door and latched the lock as John had shown him. “Don't forget ’bout us now.”
    “We won't,” Bruce said. He touched Flora's arm. “Let's go.” She nodded, grabbing Irene's arm.
    Hours later, the wagon bumped along an uneven dirt road, jostliong them. Only a sliver of light from the crescent moon guided them on their path toward the Mendenhall plantation in Jamestown. The stars in the sky twinkled like scattered diamonds. As they passed beneath trees, the limbs and branches hid the magnificent view.
    Irene yawned, and Flora lifted an arm around her shoulders. Taking it as an invitation, Irene dropped her head on Flora's shoulder. “I'm so tired.” Her words ended on another yawn.
    “Go ahead and sleep. It'll be a couple more hours before we reach the station.” Flora patted her sister's arm, hoping to encourage her. Unlike Bruce, she and Irene would need some time to adjust to these hours.
    Flora glanced up at Bruce's profile. He stared ahead, with his black hat casting his expression in complete darkness. Earlier, his declaration about protecting her had taken her by such surprise, and she hadn't known what to say. If his intention had been to silence her, he'd succeeded. What had he meant exactly? Did he mean he would fight for any woman who needed protection or was she an exception? The temptation to hope for more nagged at her, and she kept trying to divert her thoughts.
    “Thee might want to get some rest as well.” Bruce leaned toward her, his voice more gentle than usual.
    What was wrong with him? Was he pretending to be nice to trick her into letting down her defenses? It wasn't like him to be caring and concerned for others—at least not for her—truce or no truce.
    “Thanks, but I'm fine.” She stiffened, straightening her spine. The slight movement startled her sister and caused her to stir. Flora rubbed Irene's arm, encouraging her to relax and go back to sleep.
    “Perhaps it's best.” Bruce shrugged. “Thee may sleep better after we arrive and daylight comes. Will Saferight told me about thy mother's quilt. May I see it when we stop at the next station?”
    “Yes, it's beautiful.” Flora thought of the details of the map her mother had sewn into the quilt. “It's called Midnight Star.”
    They fell into an amiable silence and arrived at the Mendenhall station an hour before dawn. Flora was sorry the darkness didn't provide enough light for her to view the place. She had heard a lot about Dr. Mendenhall. He was a well-respected gentleman in the community among both Quakers and non-Quakers.
    Bruce pulled the wagon around to the back of the house, which looked like a two-story structure with a wraparound porch on the side. Another large structure came into view, and judging by the shape of the outline, Flora assumed it was the barn. A lantern appeared at the back door. The light moved as if someone carried it toward them.
    “Bruce Millikan? Is it thee?” A man's voice floated through the darkness.
    “Indeed,” Bruce said. “Where should I pull the wagon?”
    “Once we've seen to everyone, we can take it to the barn and care for thy horse.” He cleared his throat. “I'm Richard Mendenhall and this is my wife, Mary. Let's get the cargo into the house where it's safe and comfortable.”
    “What happened?” Irene said, waking with a start, a slight gasp escaping her lips. She bolted upright to a sitting position.
    “Nothing.” Flora gently squeezed her arm in