Love by Dawn Read Free

only to pacify
him. Because his earlier refusal to become a doctor nearly broke
his father’s heart, it made him feel as if he were responsible for
the stroke. Never would he have followed in his father’s footsteps,
no matter how the old man wished it so.
    Blake carried a lot of guilt; no one, not
even his mother could convince him otherwise, that he was not to
blame. So, to ease his conscience, he finally relented and said he
would help Davis Pits for six months. And now, he found himself in
the man’s company, repaying a long overdue debt, finding himself
caught up in a situation he didn’t enjoy.
    He stopped pacing knowing Pits wouldn’t
relent; he just wished that it wasn’t his bullet that had grazed
the boy. That didn’t sit right with him, not at all. And to make
matters worse, that kid, locked in the back room reminded him of
his cousin, Jason St. Andrew who was wounded in the war when
shrapnel from an explosion rendered the young boy sightless in one
eye. Now, like adding salt to the wound, he had to take the
prisoner to the Amy post if only to appease the man. But, as an
afterthought, he might be doing the kid a favor; no doubt the boy
would get himself into more trouble, anyway.
    Blake was sure the army wouldn’t do anything
to him. In fact, upon his arrival, he would suggest that they hold
the kid in the barracks if only to keep him from going back to his
foolish ways. Davis Pits was too angry to reason with, so he’d take
the prisoner to the fort and be done with him. He believed that
Hunter would be better off taking his chances with the army than
out there where he’d probably be killed the next time. Helping the
boy escape only entered his mind for a fleeting moment and besides,
he figured that the journey out west might do him some good also.
It’s been awhile since he spent time in the wilderness. And Pits
was making certain that the boy would be out of reach for anyone
with a mind to free him.
    “I hold you totally responsible,” Davis Pits
said as he shuffled papers on his desk.
    Blake slumped into a chair and nodded,
remembering the events that led up to the boy’s capture. Right
after he hooked up with Davis Pits, the abolitionist heard of
slaves being brought here to the old deserted fort. They laid in
ambush waiting for the men to arrive with their cargo.
    The wagon was loaded with
Negroes, chained and huddled together. He saw women and children,
looking half-dead. He and other men rushed from the bushes, gun’s
drawn; there were three slave dealers, all looking like farmers. A
shot was fired and Blake returned fire, then he heard someone howl and fall. Flashes of gun power lit up the darkness
making it hard to defend oneself. Beside him was Davis Pits, who
fired his gun, killing another, but he saw someone ride out from
there and disappear into the thickets. One dead
and one injured, Davis Pits ordered his men to unchain the slaves
after finding a key on the dead body.
    Blake would never forget the lost look in
the eyes of those people and the confusion when they were set free.
One woman’s dark face would be imprinted on his brain for a long
time. She clutched a small child to her chest, her black eyes
looking up at him with fear and gratitude. He sensed that if she
wanted to say something, but turned and followed the others. They
were led by two of Davis Pits’ men into the dead of the night. He
wondered if they were really doing the Negroes a service. Many
would wind up being caught again, or starve as they looked for a
way to escape the territory. Some had families to find, others had
no place to go but up north, with no money or jobs. Snapping out of
his disturbing musings, he watched Pits shift in his chair. Blake
nodded in agreement and said he would take full responsibility and
deliver the boy, but after that, he promised himself to give up his
wondering days. He was tired of this life and wanted to establish
some roots.
    After the papers were
signed, Blake extended his hand,