A Secret Refuge [02] Sisters of the Confederacy by Lauraine Snelling

down on the bench of lashed branches Meshach had made during the days of confinement. “That ought to make things easier for a while.”
    Sammy, candy stick in mouth, sat down beside Thaddeus and held out his candy in a sandy fist. “Good.”
    Jesselynn debated where to store the gold coins. She was not concerned that one of her people would steal them, but she wanted them safe in case they were attacked. And so they didn’t get scattered. The storage boxes were too obvious a place. Finally she kept out one coin and rolled the two leather bags containing the rest in a scrap of leftover deerskin, then set the packet under a rock in the horse corral, off to the side above the ground by a foot or so. When satisfied, she showed the hidden place to Meshach in case something happened to her.
    The snow melted within a week, setting the creek to frothing fury so that Daniel and Benjamin had to be careful when letting the horses drink. No longer could they stand in the shallows and drink contentedly. The bank sometimes gave way, and all they needed was for one of the mares to be injured.
    Jesselynn checked them daily as their bags swelled and their bellies sagged. “Make sure you hold them tight so they can’t take off somewhere to drop those foals,” she admonished the men. Benjamin, who’d worked with the horses since he was a small child, gave her a wide, slow smile.
    “Yes, Marse.”
    Jesselynn rolled her eyes and laughed. “Sorry. But we can’t afford to lose a baby. Those two are the foundation for the herd after the war. If only we could do something about foaling stalls. We have to separate the mares out. Ahab could get feisty and hurt one of them.”
    “If we need stalls, we make stalls.” Meshach beckoned to the two younger men. “Now we cut posts.” Within a week they had sunk posts as far as the floor of the cave permitted and run rails to the walls. While the stalls weren’t airy and roomy like those at Twin Oaks, they would be adequate. Next he chopped down an oak tree and split off withes to make two oaken buckets. When he set Daniel to cutting thin withes for baskets, Ophelia wandered around in a happy daze for hours before she began to weave an oaken basket.
    Benjamin bagged two deer, so they stretched the new hides over the doorway and brought the weathered ones in to tan.
    The next morning Jesselynn was trying to get ready to leave for town when Jane Ellen asked, “Where’s Sammy?”
    “I don’t know.” Jesselynn dropped the harness and glanced around the cave. Since the day had dawned clear, the open door let in some extra light, but not a lot. “Thaddeus, where’s Sammy?”
    The little boy looked up from his building sticks. “Don’t know.”
    Ophelia ran to the mouth of the cave. “Sammy! You get on in here.”
    Jesselynn joined her, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Sammy!” She called his name twice and shook her head. “Surely he didn’t toddle off. He wouldn’t leave Thaddeus.”
    “Then where he be?” Ophelia dashed away the tears already forming. “He can’t be gone. Sammy!”
    Jesselynn reentered the cave. Could he have crawled back under the covers? She thought for a moment. No. Jane Ellen had gone hunting for wood and leaves by herself this time. Could Sammy have followed her?
    “S-a-m-m-y.” Ophelia’s voice sounded fainter.
    “Here.”
    Jesselynn spun away from the stores and glanced around the dim room. No little black boy. “Sammy?”
    “Here.”
    “Thaddeus, do you see Sammy?”
    Thaddeus looked up from his building and glanced around the area. “Over there.” He went back to building his cabin.
    Jesselynn swallowed. He’d pointed to the horses. She bent down, and her heart took an extra beat. There sat Sammy under Dulcie.
    “Sammy, don’t move. Just stay right where you are. Thaddeus, go call Ophelia. Now.” She eased her way over to the horses. “Thank God, he’s not under Roman,” she whispered. “Easy, girl, now don’t get restless here.”