Free Morning Star by Judith Plaxton Page A

silly question!”
    â€œOne of the girls in my class said she thought someone from her family was related to some royalty.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œDo you think she might be lying?”
    â€œMaybe.”
    â€œWhy would she lie about her family?”
    â€œMaybe she’s stretching the truth, or it’s just wishful thinking.”
    â€œWas there anyone really special in our family?”
    â€œEveryone was special.”
    â€œYou know what I mean—really good or really bad.”
    â€œWe were all pretty good,” said Florence, “my family.”
    â€œThat’s the truth,” agreed Delia.
    â€œI wonder if someone from way back in our family liked to ride horses, like I do.”
    â€œPerhaps, but I think their horses were used for work back then, not pleasure.”
    Felicia closed her eyes and imagined riding long ago. Her billowy skirt would make it hard to sit up on the saddle. Maybe she’d drive a carriage. She’d sit up on a special seat, long reins in hand. The horse would respond to her gentle tug, and they would set off on a pleasant journey, trotting along a sun-dappled lane.
    â€œHow about way back in the olden days?” Felicia’s pen hovered over the pad.
    â€œSome of that information just disappeared over the years,” said Florence, “but we do have some things in that old trunk I have. I know my grandmother’s grandparents came up from Virginia before the Civil War.”
    â€œHow did they get here? Maybe they rode horses.”
    â€œI doubt it. They would have been on the run, and it’s unlikely they could afford a horse, unless someone gave them one.”
    â€œWhat were they on the run from?”
    â€œFrom slavery, sweetie.”
    â€œHow would they know where to run to?”
    â€œThey probably received some help. There was a system of helpers called the ‘Underground Railroad.’”
    â€œThey took a train?”
    â€œThe Underground Railroad was a kind of secret network of people helping other people escape slavery and come north to Canada, where they could be free,” Florence explained.
    â€œI hope someone gave them a horse so they didn’t have to walk. It must have been hard,” said Felicia. “Just imagine.”
    â€œYes,” said Delia, “just imagine.”

CHAPTER 21
    Flower
    FLOWER STOOD with her
parents as they said good-bye to the Pembertons. Gabriel peeked over his
mother’s shoulder at everyone. A rectangular wooden wagon with one harnessed
horse waited in the drive. Cleo said to their protectors, “Thank you for all
your kindness.”
    â€œWe are only doing our duty…what we believe is
right. Go in safety and help others like yourselves.”
    When the family was settled in the wagon, the
driver clucked and slapped a rein. The horse responded, pulling it forward with
a lurch. Flower watched as the Pembertons slowly receded into the distance, then
turned and aligned herself against her mother’s side. Samuel lay behind them on
a pallet of hay. He moaned at each bump in the road.
    Within two hours they reached the Simons’ and were
welcomed by the doctor’s wife. “Come in, all of you, and rest a while. I’ve
prepared a small lunch.”
    They followed her into the kitchen, except for
Samuel, who was led into a separate room so the doctor could attend to his
wound. Flower stood at the kitchen window, watched as the driver filled a pail
of water for his horse. He chatted with the animal, stroked its side as it
sucked up the liquid, and then placed a handful of hay on the ground at its
feet.
    Mrs. Simon looked up as the driver entered the
kitchen. “There’s a pump in the yard for washing up.” He bowed his head, his
dusty hat clutched in both hands, and made an abrupt turn. When he came back
into the room, he spread his hands out for her to see, like a small boy.
    â€œThat’s better. We love our horses, but