Free Redfield Farm: A Novel of the Underground Railroad by Judith Redline Coopey

my knees in the hay.
    From deep inside me came a moan that grew and surged and swelled to a scream—agonizing, full of pain, longing and disappointment.
    Inside the house, Jesse heard it. So did Josiah.
     

Chapter 7
     

1855
     
    A fter that, nothing was right. I struggled with anger, hatred, jealousy—unfamiliar feelings. I was wrestling with angels, and I was exhausted. Exhausted with pretending I didn’t care when all I wanted to do was scream, rend my clothes, or sleep.
    Jesse watched me, concerned, for he knew better than anyone how I’d dreamed of marrying Elias. I found myself trying, even with him, to pretend it wasn’t such a big disappointment. When First Day came, I couldn’t bear to sit in Meeting in silence, knowing that the thoughts of many were on me. Couldn’t bear Elias Finley standing to introduce his new wife. Couldn’t bear to stand by after Meeting while congratulations were heaped upon the happy couple.
    I rose early that morning, intending to overcome my distress, but when it was time to bank the fire and put on my bonnet, I hesitated, searching for an excuse to stay home.
    “Papa, I’m not feeling well today. I think I’ll miss Meeting.”
    Amos looked at me, expressionless, nodded and picked up his hat. Betsy squeezed my hand as she followed Papa and Nathaniel out the door. Jesse stopped and looked into my eyes.
    “You’ll have to go back sometime, you know.”
    “Yes, I know, but I can’t, yet.”
    “It’ll be harder if you stay away too long.”
    “I’ll be careful not to do that,” I promised. “Only don’t pity me, Jesse. I can’t bear that. I’ll be all right.”
    “I know you will. I’m put out with Elias right now. There’s nothing to be done but accept it, but it was wrong, the way he treated you.” He touched my arm.
    “Elias has a right to marry whomever he pleases. He wasn’t promised to me.”
    “Not in words, maybe, but . . .”
    “Hurry on, Jesse. They’re waiting for you.”
    He turned, set his hat on his head, and followed the others out the door.
    The snow was so bright on that cold January day that it hurt the eyes. I cleaned up the breakfast dishes and put meat on to roast. I left a bowl of oatmeal on the table for Josiah. He would come down once it was safe. I poured myself a cup of tea, climbed the stairs to my bedroom, and got back into bed with my journal. For the first time since Elias’ return, I tried to give vent to the surging, boiling emotion within me.
    I wrote feverishly—used real words like hate and mean and liar and deceiver. I wished ill upon Elias, gave vent to all the angry, bitter, hateful feelings that swirled in my brain. But when I read it, I didn’t feel better. I felt ashamed for the meanness and bitterness.
    I heard Josiah go down the back stairs to the kitchen. After a while, he came back up and stopped by the low door that joined the old cabin to the new. He stood there for a full minute, listening. I listened, too. Then I heard him go into Jesse’s room. I hoped he wouldn’t crawl back under the eaves. It was such a beautiful morning. A man should be free on a day like this. Through my grief and anger, I thought of him and was ashamed for raging about Elias when a man like Josiah had so little. I pushed the journal aside, got up from the bed, and went to the low door.
    “Josiah,” I called softly.
    “Yes’m.”
    “Don’t hide yourself away on so beautiful a day.”
    “No’m. I’m lookin’ out. It sure enough beautiful,” he agreed. “Who that woman out there?”
    “Woman? What woman?” I opened the door and stepped down into Nathaniel’s room. It was warmer here, because of the heat from the kitchen. I moved past Nathaniel’s bed into Jesse’s room.
    “She gone now. Out behind the barn. Look like she lookin’ for firewood or somethin’. Had a bundle on her back.”
    Pru Hartley. Couldn’t be anybody else. “More likely food than firewood,” I replied. “I’ll have to count my chickens when I