Читать книгу Allegheny Hideaway - Kimberly Tanner Gordon - Страница 6

3

Williamsport, Pennsylvania

The train whistle blew as the large machine pulled into Williamsport. Iris and Hattie were both eager to look through the glass windows at their new surroundings. The small town came into view, with scattered buildings and about a dozen or so people waiting at the station. In a word, it was quaint. The train slowed, then finally stopped before a small wooden building.

“I am free,” Iris whispered under her breath. In her seat at the back of the car, Hattie thought the same thing.

Both young women left the train, carrying what bags they could. Iris instructed Hattie to wait by the trunk. “I will find someone to help, and find a place to stay,” she explained.

Iris asked three people where she might stay for the night. They all told her the same thing, “There are no rooms.” Iris was in tears when she returned to her only friend.

“What’s the matter, ma’am?” Hattie wondered.

“There are no rooms! We’ve no place to stay tonight,” she answered before breaking out in a great sob.

Hattie’s heart pounded in fright. Would they have to sleep outside? In a strange place? There could be bad men. This was not good …

“What about that lady, ma’am? The man’s grandma?”

“Maybe … She doesn’t know us and I can’t tell her who I really am. Or that I know her grandson. I can’t tell her!” Iris answered emotionally. She had held it together all week. Why was she losing it now? “What am I going to do?”

“May I be of some service to you, ma’am?” a male voice inquired.

Both women turned at the sound. A tall man dressed in a soldier’s uniform sat upon his horse. He tipped his hat at them.

“Sir, we have only just arrived and there are no rooms to rent,” Iris answered. “We are stranded.”

“I see,” he replied calmly. “That is a problem.”

“I shouldn’t have come here,” Iris sobbed anew. “I am being punished.”

“There now, ma’am, we will find you a place to stay. Do you know anyone here?” he asked.

Iris shook her head.

“If you don’t mind, may I ask why you are here?” he asked curiously.

“I’m going to live here,” she answered.

“Where here?” he wondered.

“I have to buy a house,” she explained.

The man on the horse looked confused. “Well, miss …” his voice trailed off.

“Missus Blackheart, sir.”

He leaned down to shake her hand. “Captain Sellers, at your service, Missus Blackheart. I know a nice elderly couple who have extra rooms. They might take you in tonight,” he offered.

“Captain Sellers, we would be in your debt,” Iris answered him sincerely.

The man smiled and looked ahead at a group of boys playing near the road. “Johnathan,” he called out.

The hair stood up on Iris’ arms at the mention of that name. But the boys began walking toward them. One in particular was about eleven and couldn’t take his eyes off Hattie. When he came near, he steered clear of her.

“Johnathan, run and fetch Mister Brown’s buggy. I’m taking this woman and her maid home for the night.”

“Home?” Iris gulped out loud. Her heart quickened with a little fear.

“Yes, ma’am. To my folks’ house. I was just on my way there myself for supper. They’re good people, ma’am. You’ll be safe there until you can find a house.” He smiled reassuringly. “Where are you from?”

Iris gulped. “Georgia,” she lied again, knowing it would be futile to try and hide her thick southern accent.

“What brings you up here?” he questioned with amusement.

“My health,” she reported. Actually, that part was the truth. “The doctor told me I had to get away from the scorching hot summers.”

Captain Sellers raised an eyebrow in disbelief, but he said nothing. They waited in silence until the boy returned with the borrowed buggy. Mister Brown had harnessed his horse to pull the contraption.

“Thanks Johnny,” the captain told him.

“Sure Tom. You’re welcome.” The boy smiled at the soldier, then gave Hattie another strange look.

Hattie and Iris helped load the trunk into the wagon. The man instructed Hattie to sit on the back edge while he tied his horse to the rear. He then helped Iris into the front seat. He jumped up as well and led them to his parents’ house half a mile out of town.

“Again, I thank you for your help,” Iris told him.

“You’re welcome, ma’am. Why are you here all alone? Where is your husband?”

Iris said a silent prayer asking God to forgive her for all the lies. She was about to tell another too. “He died at sea this winter, Captain.”

“Oh. My condolences,” he said somberly. “But you came up here from Georgia, all on your own?”

“Yes,” was her simple reply.

Iris remained quiet. Tom thought for a moment about this woman. How very strange was her story. Hard to believe. However, he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, for she was quite lovely and would be staying with his parents for a short time. Fortunate for him …

Tom led the wagon into a little glen. The sky was aglow with the colors of a spring sunset as he pulled into the yard. “Here it is,” he told her.

Iris looked around. It was a small farm with a lovely view.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“It’s lovely, Captain,” she answered honestly.

“Come inside and meet my parents. I will unload your trunk in a moment. What’s your maid’s name?”

“Mary Grace.”

“Do come inside, both of you,” he offered. “Ma? Pa?” he asked as he opened the door.

Iris saw an elderly man look up from reading a book in a large chair by the fireplace. Tom’s white-haired mother came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on an apron. She stopped in her steps and smiled when she saw their guests.

“Hello, dear. Glad you made it,” she told her son. “Who’s this you’ve brought to join us?”

“Hello, Son,” his father greeted, getting up slowly from his chair. He walked closer for a handshake.

“Father, Mother, may I introduce Missus … forgive me, I have forgotten,” he apologized.

“Blackheart,” she answered with a slight curtsey to his parents.

Both parents nodded. “And Mary Grace,” Tom finished. “Ladies, my parents, Mister and Missus Sellers.”

“How do you do?” Mister Sellers questioned. He reached out to shake not only Iris’ hand, but also Hattie’s. Hattie was not sure how to take it, but timidly extended her hand after a panicked glace at Iris.

“Mother, Missus Blackheart needs a place to stay until she can purchase a home. I told her you had an extra room she and Mary Grace might use,” Tom explained.

“Why certainly,” Missus Sellers responded. “We’d be delighted to have you both. And you’re just in time for supper too,” she told them both with kindness. “Tom, you may put their things in the spare room,” she added.

“Yes, ma’am.” He left to follow her instructions.

Knowing that he could not lift anything heavy, the elder Mister Sellers offered to take Hattie’s smaller bag. “Come, I’ll show you your room,” he told the women.

The small cabin consisted of two bedrooms off the living room, then a kitchen and dining room and a loft for storage. The bed in the spare room was homemade, from tree limbs, rope and a mattress stuffed with fabric scraps. Primitive.

“It doesn’t look like much, but it’s comfortable,” Tom said as he entered the room with Iris’ trunk. “It served my brother and me well for years.”

“Thank you. It will be fine,” Iris nodded appreciation.

Tom’s mother arrived with a pitcher of fresh cool water. “We’ll leave you two to freshen up. Supper is ready when you are.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Hattie was too amazed at how she was being treated to respond politely. Iris shut the door so she could put on fresh clothes before going to eat. She removed her hat and veil as well as the wig.

“I’m not going to wear the wigs here, because I would have to use the same one all the time. I think it’s safe to use my own hair now. Once I change, I would like for you to braid it for me,” she told Hattie.

“Yes, ma’am. Should I change too?”

“Yes. I think it would be a good idea. Put on your best dress, Hattie.” Iris spoke quietly, not wanting anyone to hear her using a different name.

Ten minutes later, the two females emerged from their shared room clean and refreshed. Iris donned a respectable pastel dress lined with ruffles. Her hair spiraled around her head in a silky black braid. Hattie wore her best black uniform dress with white collar and apron.

Tom stood from his chair in the parlor as the women emerged. “Right this way,” he told them.

Missus Sellers had already filled five bowls with steaming beef stew. A plateful of raisin muffins sat in the middle of the table, waiting to be devoured as well.

“Please, come sit down,” the senior Sellers told everyone from the head of the table. “Mary Grace, you join us now, you may sit beside me if you like,” he told the colored woman. He did not approve of slavery, and he knew this woman was just that.

Hattie looked toward Iris for approval. Iris’ eyes were large with uncertainly. Back home, slaves never sat at the dining table with their masters. Hattie was her friend, but still … However, they were in the north now, she realized. Things were different here. Knowing that this was their only shelter, Iris decided to play along. She barely nodded approval.

“Yes sir,” Hattie responded to the elder man. She took a seat on the bench nearest his end of the table. Iris took her place beside Hattie. Missus Sellers took the other end of the table while Tom sat on the bench opposite the two women. This was going to be an interesting meal.

Tom and his parents joined hands. His parents then held out their other hands to hold Iris’ and Hattie’s hands. Hattie timidly complied. Once the circle was complete, Mister Sellers began a prayer of thanksgiving to God. He thanked God for bringing his son back for a visit, for his lovely wife, for their abundance, for their guests’ safe travel, and for the future. He also asked for quick healing for a Mister Greenwood who had recently broken his leg. At the end, he thanked God for their food and said “Amen.”

“Amen,” the family echoed.

Hattie sat in her chair dismayed at being included in the prayer and the supper. Everyone else began eating.

“Mary Grace, are you ill?” Missus Sellers asked.

Blinking out of her shock, Hattie answered, “No, ma’am. I’m fine. Just fine.”

The woman smiled. “Good.”

Dinner was pleasant enough as conversation was kept fairly light. Tom’s parents wanted to know where their guests were from and under what circumstances they had arrived in Williamsport. Iris repeated her lies.

“Oh my dear … What you must have been through,” Missus Sellers sympathized. “I am so sorry.”

“Thank you. I will just be thankful to get into a home again and get settled down,” Iris professed. At least this part was the truth.

Senior Mister Sellers cleared his throat. He looked toward his son. “You know Tom, the old Myers place is up for sale. A bit run down, but … available.”

“That house gives me the creeps,” Tom told his father. He looked at Iris. “Missus Myers killed her husband there several years ago. She was later tried, found guilty and hanged.”

Hattie let out a noise. Iris looked at her with warning eyes. She then looked at Tom. “Regardless, I would still like to see it. If nobody has wanted it in several years, I might get a good price on it.”

“That you would,” the older man answered with a laugh.

Missus Sellers cleared her throat and looked at her husband. “Dear, you know what they say.” She then turned to Iris. “I don’t think it would be a good choice for you, Missus Blackheart.”

“Why not, ma’am?”

“Well … I don’t want to scare you dear. But they say that, um, well … that Mister Myers’ ghost still visits from time to time.”

Hattie let out another noise. “No ghosts, ma’am. No ghosts!” she pleaded.

“Very well, but I don’t believe in them,” Iris stated for the record. “Are there any other homes available?”

“Only one that I can think of, and it’s way out of town,” Mister Sellers spoke. “But don’t give up, dear. We can ask around at church on Sunday.”