The Pull Of Freedom by Brenda Barrett Read Free Book Online Page A

about that.”
    “What’s his name?” Elizabeth asked hoarsely.
    “I named him Daniel. His mother died shortly after she came to us. He’s a sweet child.”
    “But I thought that Daniel was your son.” Elizabeth said shocked “all this time he was Robert’s beget.”
    Bridget went back around to her chair and looked into Elizabeth’s miserable face. “I can’t have children.”
    She held up her hands at Elizabeth’s moue of sympathy.
    “I'm okay with it now, and so is Harvey,” she said referring to her husband. “We treat Daniel as if he were ours. I got him as a baby and I love him. Robert asked us to set him free when he reached of age but he is already free.”
    Martha stood beside the chair fanning. This was valuable information; the Williams’ had adopted the bastard child of Robert Simmonds and Pauline the diminutive black girl from Spain. If only she could fan the ladies every time they had tea. “Stop fanning Martha,” Bridget said almost in reaction to her thoughts. “From now on, you have tea with us when I come here.”
    Elizabeth nodded, “that would be a splendid idea but it would have to remain our little secret.”
    Martha sat on the brocade-covered chair and stared at the two white women in front of her in awe. She thought of all the times when she had to press her ears to the door or crawl along the landing of the stairs to hear what was going on. Now she had right here with both ladies treating her as an ‘equal’.

Chapter Twelve
     
    After a month of walking, Nanny and her men had finally reached a spot on the blue looking mountain that they liked. It was ideal. They had plenty of level ground to plant cassava and yam and there were fruit trees everywhere. The place was picturesque and awe inspiring in its beauty, the undulating rolls of mountains towered over them, greens blended into greens and the thick canopies of trees sometimes showed a brightly coloured yellow plant or a dash of red. It was cool in the mountain; in the mornings, sometimes you could see your breath as a cloud in the air.
    Nanny was happy and her slim body quivered with excitement. On the way to the blue mountains, as she liked to call the place in her mind, they had picked up ten more men, all run away slaves. They were grateful to be apart of a band of people that looked confident in what they were doing.
    “This is it,” Nanny said, her slightly husky voice rang out in the morning. “This is the spot.”
    “This is very thick bush,” Ibo snorted.
    “We will have to clear some of the bush then.” Nanny looked at him fiercely without any formal word spoken, all the men had looked to her as the leader.
    Ibo nodded, he was a bit afraid of the fierce look and the determined gleam he saw in her eyes.
    “The trees are thick and go all the way to the bottom, we can post look outs along the way,” Nanny said clapping her hands gleefully, “the white man will never find us. We are going to build this village like the village back home.”
    “There is a river down there.” Quao went to the ridge of the hill and looked way down into a green rush of water that was snaking itself to the other side of the hill.
    “When can we go back to Spanish Town for Rita?” Adofo asked loudly. He was determined that he would retrieve his wife from the plantation in Spanish Town.
    “Remember the maroon we picked up along the way said that they had extra guards. Be a little more patient,” Quao said looking at Adofo reprovingly. The man needed to understand that they were trying their best. They didn’t even have a village yet. Nanny was determined that if she couldn't go back to Africa she was going to create a piece of Africa right here in this land.
    “The houses will be over there,” she pointed to an area densely covered with greenery, “over there will be where we farm.” She pointed to some trees in the distance. “We will get the same plants the plantation owners have and some clothes,” she rubbed her