CHAPTER TWELVE — THE ROAD THAT BELONGED TO NO ONE

Ruth listened to Samuel describe the supper while Liza set food beside him.
The quarters were quiet, but not asleep.
People had heard enough about the evening to know that the danger was not over.
“Julian says I go south tomorrow,” Samuel told them.
Ruth nodded.
“Then we plan for tomorrow, not for the victory you had tonight.”
Liza took a folded scrap from her apron.
“Ida’s cousin works at a boarding house on the road to Fredericksburg.”
Samuel looked at her.
“What does that mean?”
“It means there are people who might shelter you if you reach them.”
Ruth raised a hand.
“Don’t mistake a possibility for a safe road.”
They spoke until the fire burned low.
Samuel knew the habits of the stable watchman and the timing of the night patrol.


Liza knew which servants would be sent to the laundry before sunrise.
Ruth knew how quickly questions could lead to punishments that reached beyond one person.
They had to decide whether Samuel should attempt flight alone, whether Liza would try to go with him, and how to protect Ruth if they disappeared.
Samuel wanted to take both women.
Ruth refused to let his fear make the decision for her.
“I cannot travel as you can,” she said.
“Then I won’t leave you.”
“You may have to.”
“I won’t pretend that is easy.”
“I am not asking you to pretend.”
Liza stared into the coals.
“I can walk farther than anyone in this house thinks.”
Samuel knew that was true.
As children they had raced the farm dogs along the creek bank,

and Liza had nearly always won.
Yet childhood speed would not settle what happened on a watched road in 1854.
Ruth made them count what they actually possessed.
There were a few coins, an old coat, two knives for work, some bread, a pair of shoes that still needed mending, and the names of people who might offer help.
There was no magical passage through the night.
Every mile demanded luck, judgment, and the assistance of people who would be taking risks of their own.
At last Samuel said, “I will not let Julian decide where I disappear.”
Liza gripped his hand.
“Then we choose our own road.”
Ruth studied their faces.
“Choose it while you can still think clearly.”
She told them she would remain and keep the others informed.
Samuel argued until she placed her hand across his mouth.
“I have lived here long enough to understand what staying costs,” she said.
“I am choosing it with my eyes open.”
Before they could settle the details, a knock sounded against the doorframe.
Ida stood outside wearing her travel cloak.
“I’ve come with news,” she said.
“Julian’s steward has been sent to arrange a wagon at daybreak.”
Samuel nodded.
“We know.”
“There’s more.”
Ida closed the door behind her.
“Martin Kersey has left Vale House.”
Liza leaned forward.
“Where did he go?”
“To Alder Creek, where he has rented a room under his own name.”
Samuel waited.
Ida continued.
“He wants to speak to you.”
Ruth’s answer was immediate.
“Absolutely not.”
Ida did not disagree.
“He says he can stop the transfer.”
Samuel looked toward the door.
“Can he?”
“Maybe.”
“Then why didn’t he stop the plan before supper?”
Ida met his eyes.
“That is what you should ask him.”