“Hate to dump it out. As for my dress, I don’t believe in strolling around the house half clothed.” She squinted at Thea’s untied gown.
Thea’s eyes glistened in the dark. “By all means. You wouldn’t want the lieutenant to see anything.”
“I’m sure the lieutenant sleeps through the night. I was thinking more of your father.”
“Of course you were.” A sing-songy note rang in her voice as if she were giving a three-year-old a pat on the head.
“What are you doing up?” Morning Fawn crossed her arms.
“On my way to the outhouse just like you were.” She strutted past as if she were a queen.
Morning Fawn held onto the banister and stared after her. What did it matter if Thea suspected she’d slipped out to meet with Devon? There was no proof. And no need to bother Devon with it. He’d probably be over-cautious and determined they shouldn’t meet anymore.
She bit her lip and proceeded up the stairs, the magical cocoon of his arms fading into memory.
CHAPTER 29
Morning Fawn clutched Devon’s hand as they made their way along the path through the woods. A small, hooded lantern swung in his other hand, emitting a narrow beam of light only wide enough to keep them from tripping over roots and other obstacles. Lucy walked behind them, humming softly to herself. The wedding had been a success. Ned’s owner had given him a travel pass as a Christmas present, either out of kindness or to spite LeBeau, but it didn’t matter. There’d been a wedding. The Unionist-leaning preacher Devon had procured backed out earlier in the day, probably afraid for his life. In his stead, Pastor Combs, a circuit rider who traveled the state secretly preaching to slaves, performed the ceremony.
Morning Fawn had never seen the likes of such singing and dancing. They’d gathered on the back edge of the property near the creek where they could celebrate without fear of overseers or masters. The songs had spoken of a faith so deep that chains couldn’t bind it nor slavery smother it. And the dancing? Her heart had soared free to the stars as Devon swung her around the bare ground. What would her own wedding be like?
“Watch your step.” Devon ducked under a branch, and she did likewise.
Lucy caught up to them. “Maybe we’d best stop here so I can go behind one of these bushes and change.”
“No.” Morning Fawn squinted at the white floral-print gown showing beneath Lucy’s dark cloak. “I want you to keep the dress. If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I gave it to you as a Christmas present. Even my uncle plans to give out gifts tomorrow to all the hands.”
“Slaves, you mean.” Lucy corrected her. “But I owe you two the world.” She squeezed Morning Fawn’s hand, her smile gleaming in the dark. “Me and Ned won’t forget. If you need anything, you just say so. And that house you told us about?—”
“I’m thankful we could help. Just keep it quiet for now.” Devon slipped his arm around Morning Fawn’s shoulders. “You didn’t tell Ned the house number yet, did you?”
“No, sir. I just told him we was working on a plan.” A few tendrils of hair escaped from Lucy’s chignon and bounced on her shoulders. “I’ll wait until Miss Morning Fawn up and disappears before we sneak off.”
“Thank you.” Devon rubbed the back of his neck. “Morning Fawn and I could use your prayers. As she mentioned, I can’t share details, but I have some important work to take care of in the next few days. I won’t be back, and neither will she after she leaves.”
“The Lord bless you.” Lucy touched Morning Fawn’s sleeve.
The tree limbs rustled as a burst of wind rattled through the grove, stinging Morning Fawn’s cheeks and earlobes.
“Storm coming.” Devon tugged his collar up to his chin. “We best get back. I’ll keep to the tree line while you two go ahead. But after the fine dinner they had this evening and the drinks, I imagine they’re all as fast asleep as when we snuck out.”
“And tomorrow Massar will sit on his front steps giving outhand-me-downs and fresh meat, acting like he’s Santi Claus.” Lucy kept pace. “But everybody knows New Year’s is just ’round the corner. Heartbreak Day. Thank the Lord Ned and me don’t have to worry about being sold or rented out this year.”
Leaves and twigs, coated in frost, crunched beneath their feet as they moved along the path. An owl hooted.
Morning Fawn’s heart chilled. Tomorrow night was the ball and Nicholas. Tomorrow night was life or death. She’d faced danger for herself and loved ones countless times with the Comanche. Had she gone soft in this settler world? Or was it that she’d never so completely given her heart away? Tomorrow could destroy her.
They came to the clearing. To the left, music rang out from the slave quarters. Some had already returned from the wedding, ready to celebrate the beginning of five days off. All was quiet at the blacksmith shop and the other work buildings. Across the fields, glimmers of light peeked through the cottonwoods that flanked the main house.
It should be dark, and had been so when they left at ten.
Devon tensed and halted, his hold on her hand tightening. “Something’s wrong.”
He retreated into the shadows of the trees. Morning Fawn followed suit, with Lucy at her side.
“Maybe one of them came looking for me.” Lucy hung her head. “I…I can tell ’em I came down to the quarter to celebrate Christmas.”
“Might be more than that.” A hard breath swooshed between Devon’s teeth.
