June 1791

Northwest Territory

The first day flew by in a blur. At twilight, Sophia stumbled into Clarksburg, the settlement nearest to the cabin, so exhausted and out of breath that she feared the residents—the closest thing she had to neighbors—might think her insane.

"They've got Isaac!" were the first words out of her mouth as she came near the first house. The woman of the house, whom Sophia remembered as a kindly woman named Susanna, came rushing out to her and gently but firmly took hold of her arm just before she collapsed to the ground. Once inside, and refreshed somewhat with a draught of cool water, she told her story.

"I remember your Isaac," Susanna said sympathetically. "But we haven't seen him since the last time the two of you were here together, those several weeks back. I don't remember anything unusual today, but Jacob's out back putting the chickens up for the night; perhaps he can help."

Behind the house, the two women found the teenaged boy ushering a small flock of hens into their coop for the night. He gave Sophia a sideways glance, but came over when his mother called.

"There was a wagon that came through before. I remember 'cause I heard 'em coming up like they was racin' the devil himself and then they slowed up all sudden. I was back there," he gestured to the woods behind one of the other houses, "so they didn't see me. But both of 'em were lookin' around like they'd stoled somethin' They must've thought they'd gone further than they did, cause I heared 'em lay the reins on those horses awful hard not long after."

"Did you see anyone else, son?" Susanna asked.

"Naw. Maybe they had a bunch of stuff in the bed of the wagon, but it was all covered up with a tarp. I didn't see nobody else."

"That must have been them," Sophia said, her fear and weariness heavy on her every syllable.

"Do you remember what the men looked like?" Susanna inquired.

"They were two white men. I remember that. I didn't get a long look, though. Working men, I assume. If they'd have been finely dressed I think I would have remembered."

After a long silence, Sophia continued, "There's nothing else to do, then."

"Follow them toward the river, you mean?" Jacob asked.

"Yes. And wherever they might have gone after that. Into Kentucky or wherever they've taken my Isaac."

"But what if . . .," Jacob began, before a harsh look from his mother cut him off.

Sophia hung her head. "I'll just trust the Lord for all that. But I have to follow. No matter what it costs or how long it takes." Susanna patted Sophia gently on the arm—the first contact she had had with another human besides Isaac in weeks, maybe months, she thought.

"We don't have any cash money," Susanna said, "but at least let me give you food for the next day or two. We can spare that much." They tied up some bread, a few boiled eggs, and a small wedge of cheese in a cloth and Sophia set out without delay, over the protest of Susanna at least, even if the son seemed indifferent. The night was clear, the moon was full, and Sophia could not bear the thought of letting those men get any farther away from her than they already had.

She arrived at the river in the middle of the next morning, only to find that the ferry was at the landing on the opposite side of the river. Louisville was there—so close she could hear voices from across the water—and, perhaps, Isaac was there too.

After walking slowly to a low bluff that overlooked the river, she sat down and opened the bundle she had graciously received the night before. "Lord, please bless this bread . . . and get that ferryman back over here quickly." She very much would have liked to eat everything she had, but she didn't know the next chance she'd have to get food.

The ferry returned as the sun was just beginning to make the heat uncomfortable; it was bearing a married couple and their handful of children. Their wagon seemed to be straining under the weight of all their worldly goods, reminding Sophia of the ferry ride that she herself had made not that long ago. They disembarked from the ferry carefully and headed east along a trail that hugged close to the bank.

"I need to get across," Sophia said to the ferryman, just as he was tying off the line to keep the ferry in place.

"You'll have to wait. I've already been hired to meet a man here at midday."

Sophia sensed no great ill will in the man's voice, but still hunched over in disappointment. "Well can you at least tell me whether some men crossed the river here?"

"Lots of men cross here just about every day."

"This was two white men in a wagon almost like the one that just left; it would have been loaded down pretty heavily." She hesitated for a moment and then took a chance, adding, "And they might have had a black man with them too."

A look of recognition slowly spread across the ferryman's face. "Ah, I remember that group. Negro laid out in the back looked in pretty bad shape, but he was breathing." He stopped abruptly, as if he realized he had said too much. "I just take folks across and stay out of their business other than that."

Sophia decided not to press the issue. The last thing she needed was for this man to decide he'd rather not take her money and ferry her across the river.

Midday arrived and, to Sophia's relief, the ferryman did not try to charge her more than what she knew was the usual fare to cross along with the man who arrived with a team of horses trailing behind him. As the ferry began to float away from the north bank, she hardly noticed the smell of the horses, so intently was she focused on her destination.

Upon reaching the other side of the river, she realized that the heat and the lack of sleep was beginning to take a toll. Wandering almost aimlessly into town she started to feel lightheaded and quickly scanned the area for somewhere to sit down. A tingling sensation felt like it started to work upward from the base of her neck and as she began to lose consciousness, she started to try to sit down, despite being in the middle of the little street. Just before she blacked out, she felt someone start to catch her under her arms.

When she awoke it appeared to be much later in the day. She was lying on a couch of some sort in a room that otherwise seemed to be very sparsely furnished. A cool rag was on her forehead and as she turned her head to the left, she was met by the care-worn face of a woman who must have been at least twice her own age.

"So good to see you revived, my dear. Don't try to sit up just yet," the woman said.

All Sophia could manage at first was to weakly ask, "Where am I?"

"You're with friends. Don't worry about the rest for now. I have some water for you. Let me prop you up a bit so you can try to sip.

The woman carefully adjusted the pillows so that Sophia was in a more upright position. "Do you feel faint at all just now?"

"No, I don't think so. Thank you." Sophia took a small, ornately decorated teacup from the woman and took a drink of water.

"My name is Mrs. Parke," the elderly woman said. "But I forbid you to call me anything other than Martha."

As Martha took the teacup back, Sophia noticed that despite the woman's small frame, she was anything but frail. Her forearms, much like Sophia's, had seen more than a few years' worth of honest labor.

"Now that you know who I am, might I ask who you are? You gave us all quite a scare. It's a good thing my nephew and I happened to be where we were just at the right time."

"My name is Sophia. Sophia Freeman," she said, appending the surname that she and Isaac had adopted upon their manumission. "I've come from across the river to look for my husband and--"

"Now don't rush, dear. You don't want to exert yourself too much just yet. Here, take some more water and tell me everything slowly."

Sophia obeyed the older woman's instruction instinctively, as if it had been her own mother, nursing her back to health. She collected herself and continued.

"My husband, Isaac, was kidnapped--well, I hope it was . . ." she trailed off, pushing down her fear of the worst. "Anyway, it was a few days ago—I don't remember when exactly, it's all been a blur. But I followed the trail of the men who took him, all the way from our homestead on the other side of the river, to here. Am I in Louisville still?"

"Yes, you're still in Louisville. And I think you have had the good fortune to end up here: there were two men who claimed to be slave catchers who came over on the ferry yesterday. We keep an eye out for things like that."

Sophia didn't know whether to be relieved. "It was no good fortune, Martha; it was the Lord himself who guided me. But who do you mean by 'we'?"

"Ah. Forgive me. Providence has guided you to us here at the Kentucky Abolition Society. It's a rather grandiose title, I assure you, given that there are hardly enough of us to fill up one's parlor for dinner."

"I need to get going. Do you know where they took my husband? I know he's badly hurt."

Martha sighed achingly, as if it were own husband who was in danger. "It's no good, I'm afraid. Shortly after they arrived they boarded a coach for Virginia. That's all we've been able to find out. It will probably take weeks for our friends back east to get us any information, but we will do our best. We'll help you however we can in the meantime."

Sophia only shook her head. "I can't wait that long. I have to find him. I have to know that he's still alive. We waited too long . . . we've worked . . ."

"Slow down, Sophia." Martha took a pamphlet from a stack of nearby papers and fanned vigorously. "You've nearly killed yourself getting this far."

The two women sat gazing at one another for a moment. Martha furrowed her brow and then broke the silence: "I won't call it good sense, but if you're absolutely determined to go all the way to Virginia, the Society will help you make the trip."

Sophia closed her eyes and settled back into the pillows again. "Thank you, Lord. Thank you," she whispered.

Martha waited another moment before continuing. "But not tonight. If you want our help, you're going to recover from the frantic flight you've been on. You can't run all the way to Richmond and you certainly can't do it with an empty stomach and an empty purse."

"Oh, I have money," Sophia began.

"I won't hear of it. No, keep your money. You'll need it, I have no doubt. The Society will cover the cost of your fare. We are certainly not drowning in donations, but we can do at least that much."

Martha helped Sophia sit upright again and then asked, "Do you suppose you're ready to try to eat something now?"

"Yes. I'd like that. I feel very hungry just now."

"Very well. There's no food here, but my house is a short walk away. Let me help you up."

Martha stood beside the couch as Sophia swung her feet to the floor. She tentatively put weight on them as Martha held her arm with a surprisingly strong grip. Then, once fully erect, she gingerly took a few steps and decided that she would be fine to walk for a few minutes.

A young man—Martha called him Timothy—greeted them at the door. The women passed into the small, front room that appeared to double as a parlor and a dining room, where food was already sitting on the table.

"Eat as much as you like," Martha said, helping Sophia into one of the simple chairs before seating herself on the other side of the small table.

Sophia ate as much as she thought her stomach would allow, but began to feel tired again. "I'm sure you do," Martha said. "Come back through here and you can sleep in Timothy's bed."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to put Timothy out. I can—"

"Nonsense, young lady!" Martha chided. "Timothy is more than happy to let a weary woman rest, aren't you, nephew?"

Timothy nodded and Sophia could tell that he was in earnest. He clearly would have done anything to please his elderly aunt, but this sacrifice seemed to please him equally.

The bed was rather small, but it was softer than she had expected. She curled up her legs, fixed her thoughts on Isaac, and quickly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.