Indigo by Beverly Jenkins Read Free Book Online Page B

than theirs. They hadn't come all the way from Georgia just to be terrorized by a gang of illiterate kidnappers. Their son was only six. He'd been stoic and helpful the entire trip. He deserved to have a life. I was not going to allow him to watch his mama brutalized and see his father killed trying to defend her—not while I drew breath."
    "So what happened?" she whispered.
    "The leader seemed a bit stunned by the good fortune that had just fallen into his lap because it took him a moment to figure out what to do. In the end, greed won out. He had me get down from the wagon then told the family to go on. Ephraim didn't want to leave me, but I assured them this was for the best."
    "When did the Wesleyites make their appearance?"
    "Not soon enough, believe me. After the family departed, the catchers decided to have a little fun with me. Teach me never to steal anyone's property again, they said."
    Hester could hear the bitterness in his voice.
    "I've no idea how long the beating lasted, but sometime towards the end I heard gunshots. By then, the pain was so great I'd lost all sense so I didn't care if it were Gabriel and his angels or the hounds of hell. I came to— I'm not sure when or even where—but I looked up and there was old Jeb Wesley's bearded face leaning over me. I heard him say, 'Just lie still, Daniel. Once me and the boys exterminate this vermin with the righteous wrath, we'll get you to a place of safety.'"
    Galen added, "I don't remember much else until I woke up here."
    "Do you remember waking up and grabbing my wrist?"
    He seemed surprised. "No. Did I hurt you?"
    She shook her head, but said truthfully, "Frightened me, though."
    He searched her face. "Again, my apology."
    She nodded her acceptance.
    Galen said then, "I do remember hearing someone singing. It sounded like an angel. I wondered if somehow I'd been allowed into heaven?"
    "You, in heaven?" she said teasingly.
    He smiled. "Those were my thoughts exactly, but the singing was beautiful. Maybe I was simply dreaming."
    Hester had never been one to call attention to herself, so she didn't tell him the voice had been hers.
    "Well?" he asked.
    His question brought her back to the moment. "Well—what?"
    "Did I dream the singing?"
    Hester hesitated a moment, then said quietly, "No. The voice was mine. I thought to calm you—you were speaking French and being so fitful. It was all I could think to do."
    He searched her face a moment, then said, "Thank you for keeping me alive. I might have died had you not agreed to harbor me."
    "You're welcome. The Road needs you." Hester then asked, "So when did the catchers mention Whittaker?"
    "Some time after all six of them had taken turns teaching me the error of my ways. I remember lying on the ground and being in such pain I would've welcomed death. The leader leaned down and cackled there were catchers all over the state massed on the Ohio border waiting for me, but he'd been the one to find me. Said you people, meaning we on the Road, had a snake in our garden over in Whittaker. He considered it only fitting I know I'd been betrayed by one of my own before he sent me to hell."
    "Do you know anyone in Whittaker?" Hester asked.
    Galen shook his head. "No."
    "Then I don't understand. Who here would have known you were coming? Surely you didn't announce your intent to travel here ahead of time?"
    "Unfortunately I did, in a way. Do you know anything about the men who put together the Order?"
    Hester did. The Order originated with the Black conductors in Detroit. The men of the Order were known by various names, one being the African-American Mysteries: Order of the Men of Oppression.
    Their secret passwords, handshakes, and coded identification system had been modified for use by many of the agents and conductors on the Road. Among the founders of the Order were two of the most successful conductors in Detroit—William Lambert, the leader of Michigan's Black Road network, and George De Baptiste,