Sissy woke in the dark.

     “Where am I?”

     Quickly, she sat up on the large canopy bed from her childhood and glanced anxiously across the room. The light under the door was on. Her heart began to pound, slow, deafening.

     “This isn’t right. Meg?”

     Cold sweat began to pour down her back as she pushed the blanket aside and lowered her feet toward the floor. Instantly, a shadow came under the door and she quickly drew her feet back. Her eyes riveted on the doorknob, she shuddered as the black form grew larger.

     “No, no! This isn’t real. Go away,” she screamed at the door.

     The shadow vanished, and she had nearly finished a sigh of relief when someone shoved her out of bed. Panic filled her as she looked up from the floor, but there was no one there.

     “Adam!”

     No one answered her calls. Picking herself up off the floor, she crossed to the door. The light was still on.

     “This isn’t real.”

     Eyes wide, her breathing rapid, she yanked the door open and found herself looking into the cell that had confined her for so many years. She turned to run, but the room behind her had been replaced with solid brick walls; cold and unrelenting.

     “Please,” she whimpered, gradually getting louder. “Please let me out of here. Let me out!”

     She stopped suddenly, and ice entered her veins as a familiar voice whispered.

     “You’ll never get out . . . You belong to me . . .”

     Sissy covered her ears and backed up until she hit the wall.

     “Adam’s gone . . . He’s left you . . . He never loved you. And Meg,” the voice chuckled, “your precious Meg is dead.”

     Sissy squeezed her eyes shut and dug her palms harder against her ears to shut out the taunting voice, but then a new sound caused her to jerk her hands away. When she opened her eyes, she was no longer in prison. Once again on a bed, this time she was tied down in a hospital ward. Her baby was crying, and she looked toward the large, stiff-backed nurse that was taking it away.

     “My baby. Bring back my baby.”

     The nurse turned slowly, and Sissy stifled a scream.

     “Your baby?” her uncle hissed.

     Past her white knuckles, a sob escaped her throat, and she nodded. “Please . . . please give me my baby.”

   Her uncle walked closer as the baby’s cries grew in volume. Nearly to her side, he turned so the baby was just out of her line of sight, then leaned down to whisper in her ear.

     “Don’t ever tell me something isn’t mine . . .”

   She slumped back in despair as he disappeared, taking her baby with him. Once again, it was dark, she was alone, and the silence was driving her mad.

     “Oh, please,” she wept. “Somebody, please help me.”

     And then, through the blackness, a ray of light found her, and a gentle voice answered . . .

     “I’m here.”

 

Sissy started to open her eyes and then blinked rapidly against the sunlight. As she opened them again, the light showered and burst before her, but in the center was a face she had longed for with every ounce of her being.

“Meg?”

“Yes,” Meg answered as she brushed a damp cloth over her cousin’s forehead. “It’s me, I’m here.”

Sissy closed her eyes again, suddenly feeling exhausted, but this time, when she fell asleep there was a smile on her lips.

Adam looked at Meg from across the bed where he was holding Sissy’s hand.

“I haven’t seen her look this peaceful in a long time,” he said.

Meg smiled and with a gentle finger, brushed back Sissy’s bangs.

“She does seem more peaceful,” she said. “When I first saw in the market she looked so . . .”

“Haggard,” Adam supplied.

Meg nodded and then looked up, meeting his eyes. “Thank you for bringing her back to me.”

Adam chuckled softly. “I feel like I should be saying that to you. She was lost to me when Denton told her you were dead,” he stopped and cleared his throat. “About that?”

“As far as Mr. Denton is concerned,” Meg answered, “I am dead.”

Adam glanced toward the carpet near the fireplace where Meg’s daughter was sitting, but the young girl was busy making shadow puppets and didn’t appear to be listening.

“What happened to you?” Adam asked. “Where did you go that night?”

Meg’s eyes lifted and took on a distant look. “Gabe did like he promised and ran as far and as fast as he could. He managed to keep me hidden until about the fourth day. I was in and out of consciousness, and I had developed a fever. He tried to take care of me himself, but one night things got real bad. I almost died that night. He ran to the nearest farm house for help and a man, Jarrod Perkins, came and brought me back there. He took us both in, me and Gabe . . . He’s the kindest man I’ve ever met.” Meg held up her left hand to show off a gold ring. “My husband.”

Adam studied her for a moment. Her eyes were gentle, and a soft smile played at her lips. Whoever she’d found, she was happy. He took a minute to look around the little parlor of the mortuary office where they’d taken Sissy.

“Is your husband a coroner then?”

Meg shook her head. “My brother-in-law is. This is his business and home. My husband runs a little mill just outside of Richmond.”

Adam pursed his lips and nodded.

“I suppose you want to know about the fire,” Meg continued. “It took a while before I trusted Jarrod enough to tell him anything, and even once I did, there was a lot I left out. All he knew was someone had tried to hurt me, someone I loved was gone, and I was running away. He never pressed for more; that was all he needed to know.”

“We went to see Mr. Denton,” Adam said, “and he showed us a newspaper clipping that said you’d died in that fire.”

Meg nodded. “About six months ago one of the men Mr. Denton hired found me.   Through that man, Mr. Denton sent me a message asking me to meet him privately. He said he had news about my cousin. Jarrod didn’t want me to go, but I had to. I met him at a hotel in Charlottesville and he told me . . . that he still wanted me. Of course, I refused him, but then he told me if I would reconsider, he would see to it that Sissy got out of prison. He told me your father had been trying for years to get her released, and if I would leave my husband and live with him, he would stop standing in the way.”

She grew silent and looked away, but not before Adam caught a glimpse of the torment in her eyes. He had no doubt she’d actually considered the madman’s offer. After a moment, she turned toward him again.

“I told Gabe what Mr. Denton had proposed and . . . God bless him, he told my husband. We ran through every idea we could think of. My husband is a wonderful provider, but we’re not wealthy or powerful people; Mr. Denton is both . . . It was my husband’s brother that came up with the idea. If I were to die, Mr. Denton would have no further interest in Cecily.” Meg looked lovingly down at her sleeping cousin. “My husband sacrificed his childhood home so we could be together again.”

“But,” Adam questioned, “surely, without a body there would have been-”

Meg blushed and interrupted him. “Oh, there was a body.” She waved her arm toward the door that led to the mortuary’s main shop. “It just wasn’t mine.”

Adam brought up a hand to cover the smirk on his face. “That’s a pretty elaborate plan. It was easy to see, Denton was distraught over it. That newspaper article was nearly worn away. It’s lucky things worked out so well.”

Meg nodded, and then smiled as she took Sissy’s hand. “Sometimes good things happen, too.” Then softly, she added. “It took me a long time to learn that.”

Adam grew quiet for a moment, listening to the peaceful sounds of Sissy’s breathing. “I hope she can learn that, too. She’s been through so much . . .”

Meg shifted and Adam glanced up. He watched as she rose and moved to look out of the little window across the room that faced the street. Getting up carefully, so as not to disturb Sissy, he joined Meg. They watched the street, buzzing with people going on about their business. After a moment, a group of rowdy boys passed by, taking turns playing keep away from a smaller boy tagging along after them. Meg lowered her head, crossed her arms, and then finally turned.

“Adam,” she said. “Did Cecily ever . . . Are you aware that . . . that she’d had a baby?”

Adam was dumbfounded. “But when . . . How could you know that?”

“So, you did know?”

“Sissy told me about it. She said they’d taken the baby away; that he’d been adopted. I tried to track him down, but the midwife told me he’d disappeared. No one knew what happened to him.”

Adam’s voice was growing in volume and Meg quickly placed a finger on her lips. Taking his arm, she led him opposite of the main shop into a little kitchen.

“Please sit down,” Meg said then crossed to the stove where she placed a kettle on to heat.

Adam pulled out one of the chairs from the small kitchen table and dropped into it. “There’s more you know. What is it you aren’t telling me?”

Meg set a plate of cookies on the table and then sat down beside him. “The night my uncle was killed, things happened so quickly. Cecily and Bonnie, she was the kitchen maid, helped Gabe load up the wagon I was in, and then Cecily ran back into the house. Gabe told Bonnie to get up on the horse, but she refused to go. She told Gabe it was his job to see to me, and that it was her job to look after Cecily. Things were in such a state after my uncle’s death, that no one paid any attention to one little black woman. She moved in with a cousin on a very large plantation not far from the prison where Sissy was sent. She was able to keep informed on how Sissy was doing through some of the other slaves that worked there. When she heard Sissy had been transferred to a hospital, she took on a job there as a washer woman. She was never able to get close enough to Sissy to talk to her, but she did see her once or twice.”

Meg got up as the tea kettle whistled, and while she readied the cups and saucers, Adam tried to absorb what she’d said so far. Bonnie had worked in the hospital; she’d seen Sissy . . . his baby. For Meg to know all this that must mean . . .

“You said before that you’d heard the baby was to be adopted,” Meg said.

“That’s right.”

“It was Mr. Denton that planned on adopting him.”

Adam nearly dropped the cup Meg was handing him, and he clenched his jaw.

“When Bonnie found out, she tried to get to Cecily to warn her, but one of the doctors caught her in the hall and sent her away. She snuck back in that night and smuggled the baby out in a basket of dirty sheets.”

Adam gasped.

“For two months, Bonnie managed to keep the baby hidden, feeding him on goat’s milk, mostly. It wasn’t easy for her. She was constantly on the run, moving from one slave shack to the next. Most tried to help her, some . . . weren’t as kind. Then one night, in a dingy little shack, one of the children started telling a story he’d heard about a runaway slave that had saved the life of a white woman who’d been beaten nearly to death.”

Adam’s heart began to beat loudly.

“Three days later, Bonnie arrived on our doorstep with a little bundle . . . Cecily’s . . . and your baby boy.”

Adam and Meg both turned toward a silent figure entering the room. “My baby?” Sissy trembled.

Getting up quickly, Adam was by her side in an instant and guided her to a chair.

“My baby?” she repeated. “Meg, you . . . you have my baby?”

“Yes,” Meg said, kneeling before her as tears flowed down her cheeks. “Yes, I have him. He’s been with me, Cecily. I’ve taken care of him for you.”

Sissy began to weep, great racking sobs that shook her entire body. Adam tried to quiet her, afraid she was going to make herself sick, until Meg laid a gentle hand on his arm.

“Let her cry,” she said.

And Adam did, though the sounds nearly broke his heart.  After a while, Sissy’s crying lessened, and Meg left her to Adam so she could go check on her daughter. Sissy looked up at Adam, and reaching out a finger, wiped a tear from his cheek.

“He’s alive, Adam. Our son is alive.”

Adam couldn’t find the words to speak as he drew Sissy to him. They held each other, both exhausted, but for the first time in a long while, there was peace in their hearts. When Meg entered the kitchen again, Adam turned to her.

“Where is he?” he asked.

“He’s with my husband,” Meg answered. “And my brother-in-law. They’ve been spending every available minute building a new house for us. My youngest and I have been staying here, out of sight until . . . well, I’m sure you saw how ill Mr. Denton is?”

Adam nodded. Meg was waiting for him to die.

“He could make things very difficult for us,” Meg explained. “Especially if he discovered about Bonnie and-”

Adam held up a hand. “I understand. What Bonnie did . . . I’ll never be able to thank her enough.”

“How is she?” Sissy said, looking toward her cousin. “And Gabe? Are they all right?”

“They’re both fine,” Meg answered, “and they’re no longer slaves. Jarrod took care of all that shortly after the war. They wouldn’t leave us, though. Gabe works for Jarrod in the mill, and Bonnie helps me with the house and garden.”

“When can we go and see them? Gabe and Bonnie and, and . . .”

“Jefferson Dale Cartwright,” Meg finished for her. “I named him after your daddy, but everyone calls him Tag.”

Adam’s brows grew together and Meg shrugged.

“When he was just a little fellow, he’d always tag along with whoever was close by. The nickname just kind of stuck.”

“Can we go now?” Sissy asked, her hands clasped together.

“We were planning on moving out there tonight,” Meg answered. “The house is getting close to done, and my husband’s brother is coming to pick us up as soon as it gets dark. That’s why I was at the market. I was getting supplies for tonight. I had planned to leave the market sooner, but . . . I had a craving for some cherries.”