Jefferson's Sons by Kimberly Bradley

Uncle Peter passed out muffins by way of celebration.
    Master Jefferson was coming home. Miss Edith was coming home. James and baby Maria were coming home. Fanny Hern was coming home. All of them were coming home to stay.
    After breakfast Beverly didn’t know what to do. He and Uncle John had tidied the woodshop the day before, and cleaned away all traces of their work in the great house. “He’ll have new projects for us,” Uncle John said, “but the first day or two will likely be a mess.”
    Uncle John didn’t care whether Beverly stayed in the shop, so Beverly went out. He walked partway down the mountain road, listening for the sounds of Davy’s wagon and Master Jefferson’s carriage. They were all coming home together, Master Jefferson’s letter had said.
    The overseers were bringing the field hands up the road to the mountaintop. The hands had talked the overseers into giving them the day off work, on account of them loving Master Jefferson so. The overseers, pleased by the slaves’ sweet affection, had loaded a wagon with barrels of cider and some good hams for the celebration. “Going to be a party on the mountaintop!” one of the workers shouted to Beverly as they went by. Beverly grinned. The field hands were nobody’s fools.
    He couldn’t see far down the curving road with its canopy of green-leafed trees. After a while he sat in the shade, waiting, listening. They should arrive by dinnertime, unless they were delayed.
    He stretched out on the green grass, his stomach buzzing like the bees in the mulberry tree above him. Papa . He tried not to think that word. He understood now that it might cause trouble. But still, in his heart— Papa . Beverly wished he’d brought his violin.
    At last he heard the sound of hooves, the rumbling of a heavy wagon. He hesitated for a moment—did he go down, or up?—before running up the mountaintop as hard and fast as he could. “They’re coming!” he yelled. “They’re here!”
    Davy Hern pulled up first. Fanny sat next to him, her arm tucked through his. Miss Edith sat on his other side, her bright red scarf wrapped around her head, her eyes shining. She cradled Maria in one arm, and held tight to a wriggling James with the other.
    Joe Fossett shouted to Miss Edith. Everyone surged forward in a rush.
    Someone grabbed Beverly’s leg, nearly knocking him down. It was Maddy, his eyes wide and scared. “It’s all right,” Beverly told him. “It’s happy noise.”
    Maddy shook his head. Beverly hoisted him up so he could see the wagon. Maddy’s face changed in an instant; he gave a shout of joy. “James!” he yelled. “James!”
    â€œMaddy!” cried James. He vaulted over the edge of the wagon and ran smack into Maddy, who was running toward him. Both of them fell down. Beverly laughed and went to help them up.
    â€œI got a new ball to play with,” Maddy said to James, ignoring Beverly completely.
    â€œI got a new house,” James said. “Mama said. I gotta see my new house.”
    Maddy said, “It’s next to mine !”
    They grabbed hands and disappeared around the corner of the great house. Beverly looked to see if Miss Edith or Mama minded. Miss Edith had her arms around Joe Fossett’s neck, and was kissing him while Joe twirled her in the air, but Beverly couldn’t find Mama anywhere. Master Jefferson’s carriage arrived, and now more people were jumping and shouting and carrying on. They surrounded the carriage and clapped their hands.
    Beverly searched the crowd. Mama wasn’t among the mountaintop folks around Davy’s wagon, and she wasn’t in the crowd of field workers around the carriage. Finally Beverly saw her standing on the side of the great house porch, half hidden by one of the pillars. She looked calmly expectant, like she was waiting for something but wasn’t in a