Promise Bridge Part 17

Winston gathered Elijah in his arms and sobbed tears of relief. The joy was short-lived, though, because the water continued to seep its way up into town. James helped Livie and me into the carriage, then called to Winston, "We gots'ta get on higher ground."

Winston lifted Elijah back up onto the bench. He looked around anxiously. "Where's Miz 'Gusta?"

"Don't know," James shouted above the frantic chorus. In our struggle, we did not see what became of her. We scanned the chaos around us to no avail. James grabbed two sinking men, one white and one black, and tugged them into shallow water. "We gots'ta move de hosses and carriage befo' it's too late."

"Miz 'Gusta!" Winston yelled as he climbed up and stood on the driver's bench to get a better view. "Where you at, Miz 'Gusta?"

Livie went limp in my arms, exhausted. "I don't want to lose my chile. Do you think my baby drown inside me with all this water?"

"No, Livie," I said, scrambling to lift the top of the bench seat in the carriage. Aunt Augusta stored quilts inside the hollow seat to safeguard them from dust and rain on their way to market. I took one and wrapped it around Livie to warm her trembling body. "Your baby is safe inside you. We shall get you to dry land even if I have to carry you there myself."

I looked for James. He had the banker's wife around the waist and her three young children in tow. When he pulled them far enough to continue the escape on their own, he waded through the water rising halfway up his thigh. "We gots'ta move now, Winston!"

"Miz 'Gusta," Winston called out, cupping his hands around his mouth. "I can't see you. Is you out there?"

Tears filled his eyes as he held his hands to his head. "Lawd have mercy at the sight befo' me." His shoulders hunched with defeat as he stepped down to take the reins.

"Here," a strained voice called out. "Winston, I am here by the toolshed." Winston spun around and jumped into the water.

"Go back and ready the hosses, Winston," James yelled as he pushed his way to where Aunt Augusta, drenched and unrecognizable, was clinging to the top of a doorframe. Her body stretched lengthwise across the surface of the water trying to s.n.a.t.c.h her downstream. Riding the current, James reached her quickly. "I got her, Winston," James called. "I got her."

Winston reached them and helped free Aunt Augusta's hands, which clenched the frame so tightly it was as though survival instinct nailed them to the wood. Each with an arm around her, the determined men dragged Aunt Augusta from the deep water. The great and mighty Augusta Reynolds was a rag doll in their arms, but they handled her with protective gentleness until she got her feet under her as they reached waist-high water. By the time they lifted her into the carriage, all three were so physically drained, they could not speak.

"Get over here, boy," a voice demanded from a whirl of splas.h.i.+ng water behind us. "Come fetch me. My leg is tangled in some chicken wire." Twitch's nasty bite did not ease even as he thrashed desperately for his life. "I said, move your lazy haunches over here!"

Neither James nor Winston lifted a head in Twitch's direction. James looked over at Winston, who stared back without a flinch in his expression. Heaving an anxious breath, Winston crawled to the open bench seat and rummaged for a quilt to wrap around Aunt Augusta. "I best move these horses befo' we sink too deep in de mud."

James struggled onto his knees, then rested his head against the small mound of Livie's seeded belly. Livie rubbed his wet back and wept softly. After catching his breath, James pressed his hand to Livie's cheek. "We gonna get you gals up on dry land now. Everybody hold tight, 'cuz the hosses is gonna have to fight dere way outta the muck. Might throw us around a bit."

"James, you no-good-" Twitch cursed as he gulped and spat the floodwater pus.h.i.+ng him into the splintered remains of a shed. "Untangle me now!"

James stood as though Twitch's voice was unheard. He jumped down into the water where Winston had already started pulling the team, coaxing their entrenched hooves from the muddied road beneath the floodwaters. The cries of those around us were deafening as the watery a.s.sault continued. If we did not move immediately, we would be washed over by the currents still swirling and s.n.a.t.c.hing victims into its grip. A terrified yelp rose from the water to our left.

"Sweet Jesus, have mercy on an ol' woman," Mabelle cried as she held to an apple barrel dragged off by the river. Her face, nearly submerged, was slapped over and over again with brown water. "Save me from de fist of h.e.l.l and deliver me to de Promised Land!"

James ran toward her, but the deep water had become thick with silt, slowing his stride and broadening the distance between them. James dove beneath the surface. "James!" Livie screamed. There was no sight of him. We all stood and searched the water now peppered with corpses and remnants of an uprooted town. The degree of tragedy unfolded before us. Buildings, livestock, and people swept by. I held tightly to Livie's hand as she screamed for James. Aunt Augusta came and steadied her from the other side. Livie buried her face into my shoulder. Like a rising turtle, James appeared from the dark water and grabbed Mabelle across her breast. He tugged hard and stroked with relentless determination. Mabelle choked and spit up water. The closer James moved her in our direction, the easier it got for her to lift her chin and breathe in the sweet air of salvation. Winston waded out and s.n.a.t.c.hed them each by the collar. To my amazement, he summoned the strength to pull them toward us.

"Toss that worthless blind woman aside and help me!" Twitch screamed as he drifted farther downstream. "I command you to come for me now, or answer to the whip later."

We focused our attention on Mabelle. James carried her in his arms and laid her into the carriage. She was weak and disoriented. Aunt Augusta threw a blanket over her. Livie reached for James, his hand bracing Mabelle's shoulder with encouragement. James squeezed Livie's hand as he s.h.i.+vered with exhaustion. " 'Tain't no time to spare," he called to Winston. "Let's move them hosses."

Elijah scrambled up to the driver's bench and lashed the reins as Winston centered himself between the noses of the two frightened horses, yanking their bridles until they kicked their legs free of muck. At first the carriage rocked unsuccessfully. Then James whacked them on their haunches with enough insistence to drive them in the right direction. They slopped their way through the mire, stumbling and rearing up. Like children watching a footrace, we yelled our encouragement.

"Go, girls!" I cried with the others. "Pull harder!"

I doubt the frightened horses could hear us above the commotion, but they lunged more fiercely, and with each step gained, the grip of the river loosened. The carriage nudged forward, then with one last powerful surge from the horses, we broke free of the water. Elijah continued to crack the reins as Winston and James stepped back to let the horses run. I never imagined a cloud of dust swirled from a dry road would make me sob with joy, but I was not alone in my tears. Elijah handled the frantic horses with calm expertise learned through years on his father's knee. In spite of his small stature, he guided them to a halt at the livery. Winston and James caught up with us there and moved quickly to secure the horses to the hitching post. Cuts and bruises were had by all, but no serious injuries were apparent, with the exception of Mabelle, who swayed with grogginess brought on by a bulging knot in the center of her forehead. I was the first to speak.

"We must get all of you back to the safety of Hillcrest. Your wounds can be tended to there." Mud smeared Livie from head to toe, but she appeared unharmed. I pressed my hand to her cheek. "Are you strong enough to make the trip?"

" 'Tain't the first time I tangled with the river, but I hope to high heaven it be the last," Livie said with an anxious smirk. "Every time I think it's gonna swallow me up, it spits me back out again. I is either the luckiest soul alive or the most cursed."

James climbed into the carriage to put his arm around his shaken wife. "Livetta, you sure you is not hurt?"

"I am fine, thanks to you and Winston." Livie s.h.i.+vered into the crook of James' arm. "We may be a mite thick with mud and bruises, but you held our lives in your hands and never let go. You is a brave man . . ."

"James, you no-good buck!" Twitch sloshed from the water's edge, snarling and limping like a beaten dog. "I am gonna whip the hide from your bones and feed it to the hogs!"

James climbed down to meet him face-to-face. "Ma.r.s.e, I was jes' goin' to look fo' you."

"Nonsense. You went for the ol' woman instead of me," he screamed, his eyes wild with fury. "You will pay with your life, as sure as I am standin' here."

"I didn't see you, Ma.r.s.e," James said, averting his eyes from Twitch. "There was so much screamin' and cryin' out, I couldn't make out one voice from t'other."

Twitch seized James by his torn s.h.i.+rt. "You lyin' darky. You will sure enough hear my voice loud and clear when I howl at the sight of your dead body hangin' from a tree."

"That's enough, Twitch.e.l.l." Aunt Augusta stood on feeble legs, but her jaw was firm with intent. "None of us saw you or heard your cries for help."

"I tell you he saw me, Augusta, but he was more concerned about savin' his own kind. He would watch me drown with a smile on his face, then reap the benefit of an easier life with me at the bottom of the river."

"Nonsense, I say," she snapped, sounding stronger. "If what you imply is true, he would have let me drown with you. He saved me and anyone else he could get his hands on. You should be grateful for the breath left in you and not waste it engaged in pointless bellowing. Now unhand him and make yourself useful. There are a great many people around us who need help."

Twitch obliged by letting go, but not without protest. "No disrespect, Augusta, but this here is Mooney's buck. He is driven by my whip. Overseein' is my business and n.o.body-"

"Don't dare challenge me, Twitch.e.l.l," Aunt Augusta said, narrowing her eyes. "Be gone with you. Time is of the essence in a crisis of this magnitude. Go do some good for someone other than yourself."

He stepped back, awash with contempt flowing as heavily as the water that dripped from his face, hair, and clothing. He turned to James. "I won't forget this, boy. You'll pay another day. I never leave a debt uncollected." His crooked teeth widened into a seething smile to punctuate his antic.i.p.ation. "Now come on with me. My buckboard sank in the marsh down yonder. You ain't helpin' n.o.body but me. Your duty is to your master." As James complied and walked away with him, Twitch swung his leg around and kicked James in the hip. James's knees buckled, but he never broke stride or acknowledged the aggressive reminder delivered by his overseer. Twitch shook his wet hair like a mutt caught in a rainstorm, then looked back over his shoulder at Aunt Augusta. His dead eye oozed mucus, in contrast to the renegade glimmer in its counterpart. His message was clear: Aunt Augusta's power no longer intimidated him.

Overcome by a dizzy spell, Aunt Augusta staggered backward. Was it her brush with death or her recognition of Twitch's unleashed danger that caused her to sway from her perch? If not for Livie and me steadying her, she would have toppled from the carriage. She sat for a moment, and with Elijah fanning her with the corner of a quilt, she regained her composure.

"If it suits you, Miz 'Gusta," Winston said. "I will have Elijah drive you and these gals back to de big house. I'll stay and do what I can fo' these poor souls struck by de river."

"I shall stay as well," I said, giving Winston my hand to help me from the carriage. "Perhaps I can aid the injured in some small way. Alert Colt to what has happened. With his medical training, I know he will come immediately to a.s.sist in the rescue."

To my surprise, Aunt Augusta did not forbid me my desire. She looked at me through aged eyes, then nodded her approval to Winston. As they rolled off toward the highlands of Hillcrest, a tremor quaked throughout my body. I wish I could have attributed it to the soaked dress hanging from my limbs or the frigid puddle slos.h.i.+ng in my boots; however, it was an undeniable shudder of vulnerability waking in my consciousness. Aunt Augusta's forceful presence, which often had been oppressive and cause for resentment in my life, also afforded me a great deal of protection. Twitch had torn a hole in my blanket of security, and it chilled me. The time had come for me to grow up and rely on myself, to trust the beliefs seeded in me or chance being swept away by the storm hinted at in the wind that s.h.i.+fted from north to south. I turned away from the retreating carriage to face the overturned world spread before me.

Chapter 25.

The wall of water that pushed downstream after the ice break receded back within the banks of the river. However, the destruction left in its wake was not so easily tamed. Thirty souls drowned or were missing. Most were slaves who worked in the vicinity of the bridge or along the sh.o.r.eline, engaged in the tasks of their masters. A handful of white slave drivers and business owners, including Jeremiah Taft of the gristmill, were mourned as tragic losses. In contrast, the deaths of the enslaved were viewed as mere inconveniences until they could be replaced at the next auction. However, inside the quarters of every plantation bordering Echo Ridge, the loss of dear friends and family members struck a harsh blow. Though spared any direct impact, the population of Mud Run cried out in heartache as word of the dead blazed up the mountain like a wildfire.

I shall never forget the magnificent image of Colt riding down from the hills on his stallion. With saddlebags loaded with bandages, ointments, and other medicinal necessities, Colt leapt from his horse and rushed to take me in his arms. Adversity transformed Colt in my eyes, as well as in those he touched with his healing hands.

"I came as soon as I got word," he said while carefully checking the cuts and welts on my arms and face.

"My injuries are minor and will fade by week's end," I said, sinking into the security of his embrace. "Look around us. There are not many as fortunate."

"Help us, Colton," Mac Prentiss called from the lumber mill. "My wife's arm is broken." I marveled as Colt took charge of setting up a makes.h.i.+ft infirmary in the schoolhouse, treating the injured who arrived helpless and dazed from the stricken part of town. I stood in awe of his gentle expertise and calming presence in the midst of the uproar.

He instructed me to tear linen into strips to aid in treating the deep, penetrating wounds delivered by debris used as weapons by the floodwaters. Lifeless bodies were carried with dignity to the rear of the building and covered with a heavy tarp to protect them from flies and vultures until family could claim them for burial.

Colt treated both black and white as they were brought to him, and it was not until evening, when I walked to the well for fresh water, that I noticed a group of townsmen gathered near the church. Mr. Snead's wife, Charmaine, was inconsolable with tears.

"John, if she is not seen by a doctor soon, she will bleed to death."

"No hands stained with the blood of a darky will touch my daughter. This self-professed doctor is a disgrace to his family and to this town."

"But, John, she needs a doctor."

"Charmaine, when word reaches Dr. Waverly, he will come to our aid. He is most likely en route at this moment."

"I don't know, John," Mr. Watkins interjected. "Every town along the river will be impacted, including Lows Hollow. He may be busy with injuries there."

"Nonsense," Snead countered, jutting out a stubborn chin. "Echo Ridge was nearest the jam and will be hardest hit. With so many of the county leaders living here, we will be a priority."

His wife knelt over their limp child. "Please, John . . ."

"Charmaine, do you really want Emily lying among the colored? She deserves better. Fate will deliver her ent.i.tlement."

I bristled at the venom dripping in his words, but I was too busy for it to matter. When their daughter succ.u.mbed to her injuries the following afternoon, I wondered if her death was the ent.i.tlement ent.i.tlement they expected. Sadly, it was what fate was forced to deliver on them because of their stubborn refusal of the nondiscriminating help offered them. What a horrifying price to pay for one's ignorance. G.o.d rest the innocent soul of the child. they expected. Sadly, it was what fate was forced to deliver on them because of their stubborn refusal of the nondiscriminating help offered them. What a horrifying price to pay for one's ignorance. G.o.d rest the innocent soul of the child.

Eight days pa.s.sed with me at Colt's side, helping him in any way possible. I boiled water, redressed wounds, and dispersed the food rations salvaged from the area of town unharmed by the crested river. Soon supplies trickled in from the surrounding plantations, including a wagonload brought by Winston. Every landowner in the county spared small groups of slaves to aid in the recovery. Although the spring fields were in full labor, they knew their investments depended on the resilience of the town. The dead were buried, the debris stacked and burned. Each day was marked by the sound of hammer and saw busy reinforcing, rebuilding, rebirthing a town nearly lost. On the evening of the twelfth day, Dr. Waverly arrived on horseback.

"Colt, my boy, you look exhausted," he said, dismounting his horse to shake Colt's hand. "You appear overburdened as well, Miss Blessing."

I motioned to the battered people stretched on blankets strewn on the porch of the schoolhouse, many with children, parents, or spouses in vigil at their side. "The sorrow and strain of the town is worn on every face here, sir."

"Two of my colleagues will arrive tomorrow with a wagon of medical supplies. I apologize for the delay, but we were hit downriver as well, though not to the extent I see here." Dr. Waverly hovered over a few of the fallen, checking bandages and examining swollen limbs. "Colt, you have done an exceptional job stabilizing and treating these wounds."

"I am saddened to say we lost many as well, Doctor," Colt said with distraught resignation.

He patted Colt on the back sympathetically. "It's part of the profession, my boy. You never completely callus over those feelings. Learn to take comfort in knowing an untold number of these folks would have perished had you not been here, possessing the knowledge and skill of a healing man. You have a calling, Colt. Don't let it go to waste slopping hogs."

Colt was moved by the doctor's words. There seemed to be a pause of understanding pa.s.sed between them. Colt's curls hung long and limp after more than a week of steady toil. Whiskers shadowed his face, and his clothes were musty and stained, yet the aura of a man who had found his pa.s.sion in life glowed from him.

"Now go home and rest," Dr. Waverly declared as he turned us around and nudged us toward the stables. He held up a firm hand when Colt started to object.

"Colt, I need you sharp and refreshed. I can take care of things for now. Come back in a few days to give me a hand."

From nowhere, James appeared with Colt's horse saddled and ready to go. Colt mounted, then pulled me up behind him. I had never ridden in this fas.h.i.+on, yet it seemed natural to lean between Colt's shoulders and wrap my arms around his waist. Colt and I both shed what was left of our youth during the flood of Echo Ridge. We rode home in silence, our minds full and bodies exhausted. The crescent moon accompanied us on the last leg of the journey, until finally the outline of Hillcrest took form in the distance. The sound of our horse must have preceded us, because Winston and Livie both stood in the yard as we rode up.

They rushed to me when Colt lowered me to the ground. He and I held on to each other's hands long enough to convey the good-bye neither of us had the willingness to speak. Words could never fully express what we had experienced together. My fingertips traced every crease and corner of Colt's gentle hand as we finally let go of each other. Then, with a swift kick of his spurs, Colt disappeared into the darkness.

I have no recollection of speaking or moving from where I stood, but when next I looked around, I was sitting at the table in the kitchen. Livie sat alongside me with her arm firmly over my shoulder and holding a cup of tea to my lips. Winston and Elijah shuffled through the back door, both of them hauling a full bucket of water in each hand. Esther Mae tossed a log on the fire beneath a large cauldron of steaming water.

"Do you want this water in de pot or dumped in de tub with de rest?"

"Throw it in de tub," Esther Mae said, motioning toward the second floor where Winston had carried the wooden tub to my bedchamber. "Dat should jes' about do it. Once we pour this pot o' hot water in with de rest, de bath will be soothin' to de touch."

I sipped the warm tea offered by Livie while my bath was prepared. They talked around me as though I was not there, or perhaps my exhaustion made it impossible for me to absorb any conversation directed my way. Livie helped me to my chambers, where she peeled the stained clothes from my weary body. The looking gla.s.s on the far wall reflected an unrecognizable image of tangled hair and dusty cheeks moist with perspiration. Sinking into the tepid water, I released a few tears as layers of dirt and sorrow lifted off my skin. I went limp, wis.h.i.+ng to never move again. Livie dipped a pail into the water and raised it over my head. I tilted my head back and let the warmth flow through my matted hair.

"Stop, Livie," I said softly. "Do not serve me."

She gently ran her soaped hands through my wet hair. "I am not serving you. I am being your friend."

I closed my eyes and let her care for me. By the time she rinsed the soap from me, I was more alert and rejuvenated. I opened my eyes and saw the tired strain of worry paling her.

"James is well and working on the bridge," I whispered in grat.i.tude, happy to ease her burdens as well. "The crest of the river is low. He is not in any danger."

Her hands left me and pressed to her forehead. "Thank you, sweet Jesus," she said with a sigh of relief. "I wish I could see him."

"There is talk of the bridge being temporarily secured as soon as tomorrow; then the slaves in town will be sent back to their plantations and replaced by a fresh group to clean up and repair the buildings left standing. For once, the sight of Twitch's wagon returning home will be a welcome sight." I reached up and touched her cheek. "You look tired, Liv."

"We all been through a lot. Miz 'Gusta was rendered to bed fo' most of the week. Esther Mae says her ribs is hurt bad. She been up and about fo' a few days now, but only to come down and sit in her chair."

"And to check on my niece." Aunt Augusta's voice came from the doorway. She looked small and bent as she crossed the room. Livie and I stared at her as she approached. Much to my surprise, she sat on the stool next to Livie, and then reached out to stroke my hair.

"I was concerned when Mooney said there was a fever outbreak near town."

"Yes," I said, unable to hide my astonishment. "Colt treated two pockets of fever along the marshes of the Moffett plantation to the south. He did not bring the stricken into Echo Ridge, which prevented it from spreading beyond the affected area. His decision proved wise, because there were no outbreaks in town."

Noting my uncertainty beneath her touch, she withdrew her hand as she spoke. "Thankfully, the sun has been bright and no rain accompanied the flood. Wetter conditions would have made it ripe for a widespread epidemic."

I nodded in agreement as Livie combed through my scrubbed hair. Aunt Augusta's sincere interest was difficult to digest. Colt had a way of engaging her in deeply layered conversations; however, my interactions with her reduced me to one of three roles: obeying, explaining, or apologizing. There were never exchanges like this, where my thoughts and observations seemed of value to her. Perhaps seeing me react with purpose in this experience changed me in her eyes, or maybe watching her pulled from the river as helpless as a drenched kitten changed her in mine. Either way, something between us had s.h.i.+fted, and I am sure she recognized it as well. I grew drowsy and must have nodded off during my conversation with Aunt Augusta, because when the tug of Livie's comb in my hair awakened me, I opened my eyes and Aunt Augusta was gone.

"She is proud of you," Livie said, holding open a towel for me to step into. "Even if you don't think so."

"I am not thinking anything except how wonderful my soft, warm bed will feel beneath these weary bones." I held my grateful hand against Livie's cheek. "Thank you, my dear friend, for being here, providing strength and love when I most needed it."

Livie touched my hand and smiled. "Guess we jes' like doin' fo' each other."

The next morning I was greeted by the gentle coo of a young dove nested in the tree outside my window. Although the hour was early, I was rested and happy to be home. Livie looked at peace on the trundle bed next to me. In the time we were apart, a distinct b.u.mp appeared across her waistline, the first outward sign of the baby growing inside her. It comforted me to awake and find her here. In the months since Livie's wedding, I missed the intimacy she and I shared as inseparable friends, so I lay awhile longer and cherished the serenity of the moment.

Eventually Livie stirred, and we dressed and went downstairs. Livie headed for the kitchen to help with the morning preparations. Granny poked her head through the door to greet me with a broad smile.

"Sho' is good to see ya, Miz Hannah. Not a day pa.s.sed without us frettin' and worryin' over you."

"Thank you, Granny. Being home and breathing in the luscious aroma of your griddle cakes is like stepping through the gates of heaven."

"Go on, now," she said, cackling as she headed back into the kitchen. "Set yo'self down and get ready fo' Granny's finest. Miz 'Gusta is already started." Even Esther Mae, who usually maintained a reserved demeanor, grinned over Granny's shoulder.

No sooner had I joined Aunt Augusta than voices were heard in the front hallway. Livie greeted Colt at the front door and directed him to the dining room. We paused when we first caught sight of one another and exchanged poignant smiles. Clean, rested, and draped in fresh clothing, we were reborn from the wretched pair that rode in from town the previous night, although sleep and fineries would never redress the horror harboring in our memory.

"I came to check on all of you to be certain you are well before I return to town."