Page 52 of The Heart’s Charge

“He apologized later, of course, but our relationship was never the same after that.”

Jonah traced the line of her thumb with his. “I’m sorry, Eliza.”

She nodded, those simple words having a profound effect. They freed something inside her, some small piece that still believed that shame was hers to carry. It wasn’t. She knew that in her head. But in the dark of night, as she lay alone, there were times when her heart still doubted. Perhaps that was why she’d never told Katherine this story. Despite her being the most compassionate person Eliza had ever met, she didn’t know what it was like to live in brown skin. To wear the stain of illegitimacy. To pretend to be a servant around the man who was supposed to be her protector and defender.

Jonah might not relate to the details, but he understood the core conflict. The fight to believe oneself worthy in a world that communicated the opposite.

“All that to say, my father has made his share of mistakes, but he’s also done much to provide for me. Especially in my education. He financed my college tuition—anonymously, of course. Couldn’t risk his customers and neighbors learning he’d paid to educate a servant.” His hypocrisy still left a bitter taste in her mouth.

He’d commended himself for being so progressive, so kind to her and Mama. But time after time, when push came to shove, he succumbed to society’s dictates. Refusing to take a stand anywhere other than in his mind. Yet, he was still her father, and even with the growing rift between them, she had to acknowledge the truth. “Without him, I never would have attended Howard and earned my teaching degree. My doorway to freedom, as Mama likes to call it.”

“I’ve got one of those too,” Jonah said, releasing her hand to dig in his trouser pocket.

“A teaching degree?” Eliza asked with a raised brow.

“Nope.” He finally pulled whatever he’d been searching for out of his pocket. “A doorway to freedom.” He opened his hand and revealed the worn brass casing of a small compass. “Only my daddy called it the key to freedom. He and my ma used this very compass to find their way north on the Underground Railroad before I was born.”

He gestured for her to take it. She held it reverently, recognizing at once the treasure it represented. She opened the lid and watched as the needle wobbled with the movement of the wagon yet held true to its course.

“Daddy passed it on to me when I left to join the Army. Said it would guide me to freedom just as it had guided him.”

Eliza’s brow scrunched. “But weren’t you already free?”

“Free from slavery, sure, but there’s a lot more out there that will enslave a man if he surrenders to it. Hatred. Bitterness. Greed. Drink.” Jonah snorted softly and shook his head. “Daddy feared war would steal my soul. That the wandering lifestyle of a cavalry unit would leave me untethered, and I’d forget who I was.” He caught her gaze. “Your mama believed education brought freedom. My daddy believed freedom lay in the land. Owning it. Working it. Building a homestead and raising a family on it. He’s been after me for years to buy a piece of property somewhere and settle down. Says a man don’t really know who he is until he’s got his own land under his feet and a family at his side.”

Eliza peered closer, her heart thumping a touch faster as she studied his face. “And what do you say?”

Dark eyes melded with hers, eyes that had experienced their own pain and disillusionment. “I say nothing teaches a man who he is more than war.”

He turned back to the road, making it clear he’d welcome no probing on that particular topic. At least not today. But what about the other topic? The one his daddy had found such value in?

She carefully closed the lid to the compass, the quiet click barely audible above the rattle of the wagon wheels and harness. “What about the land? Do you plan to settle down and buy a piece someday?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Never really had a thing for farming, but running cattle has possibilities.”

And family? Eliza longed to ask, but such a question would be far too presumptuous. Besides, it would make her sound like she was applying for the position. Which she wasn’t, no matter what her wildly thumping heartbeat said to the contrary. She’d known him less than a week.

Yet she felt as if she’d known him half her life.

Maybe it was the danger heightening things. Or maybe it was just the man himself. Stoic. Contrary. Stubborn as new shoe leather. Yet there was a solidity to him that invited leaning. Like a Greek column that still stood straight and tall after thousands of years. He could be relied upon. Perhaps that was why she’d shared more of herself with this man in the last few days than she had with any other person of her acquaintance.

Eliza turned Jonah’s compass over in her hand and found an inscription etched on the back. The writing was shaky, as if etched into the brass by an amateur hand, but she made out a pair of letters and four numbers. “PS 3278. What does that stand for?”

Jonah lifted his chin and smiled, his eyes lighting. “Psalm 32:7–8. My daddy scratched that into the back before I left home.” His gaze moved toward the sky as he spoke the scripture from memory. “‘Thou art my hiding place; thou shalt preserve me from trouble; thou shalt compass me about with songs of deliverance. I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go: I will guide thee with mine eye.’” When he finished the recitation, his attention came back to her. “Daddy said the first verse was a prayer for my safety, and the second was to remind me not to get too big for my britches.” His grin widened. “I’ve always been a crack shot. Eyes like an eagle, folks like to say.” He shrugged away the praise. “Daddy liked to say that no matter how keen a man’s eyesight, he still couldn’t see everything. He needed the Lord’s eye to guide him and instruct him on the way that he should go.”

Eliza traced the crude lettering with her fingertip. “Your daddy sounds like a wise man.”

Jonah nodded, his gaze traveling to a distant spot in front of the wagon. “That he is.”

She handed the compass back to him. He shoved it into his pocket, and silence resumed. It was a different type of silence than before, however. There was no awkwardness. Just quiet—as if both passengers had weighty notions to contemplate and neither wanted to interrupt the other. Eventually, the mood lightened and chatter resumed. He pointed out rabbits and prairie dogs when they scampered near the road. She asked about his life as a Horseman. He told her stories of criminals brandishing guns and branding irons. She regaled him with tales of troublemaking boys brandishing snakes and spiders. By the time they rolled into Llano, they were completely at ease in each other’s company. The history book had been neglected for the majority of the trip, and Eliza hadn’t missed Mr. Quackenbos’s scholarly exhortations one iota.

After dropping the wagon off at the wheelwright for repairs, Jonah rented a replacement wagon and drove Eliza to the general store so she could stock up on supplies while he ran the other errands that had brought them to town.

As he saw to the horses, slipping a feed bag over each of their heads so they could replenish their energy before making the long journey home, he searched Eliza out on the boardwalk in front of the general store. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d spent four uninterrupted hours with a woman, let alone enjoying it. It almost made him want to tag along at the store instead of seeing to his own business. But then, the faster he took care of his business, the faster he could have her to himself again. Maybe he’d see if she wanted to stop by the river to eat their lunch on the way back to Kingsland. He’d noticed a pretty spot on the way into town. Far enough from the road to afford them some privacy, but close enough to maintain propriety.

The thought gave his stride extra length and pace as he cut the corner of Main and Ford and headed along the courthouse square to the county jail at the end of the block. Sheriff Porter proved a fair-minded fellow when he learned of Jonah’s connection to the Horsemen. He took down Jonah’s information and filled out a report on Wart’s disappearance as well as Rawley’s attempted abduction. The lawman also offered to wire his deputy in Kingsland and encourage him to poke around Honey Creek a bit, see if any of the locals had noticed a change in outlaw activity in the area.

“Most folks out there stay to themselves,” the sheriff said, “but it’s possible someone might have seen something. I’ll tell Bronson to expect a visit from you middle of next week for a report.”