Northern Star

Chapter 17

An hour before dawn Perry woke to the sound of a lonely owl hooting in the distance. As she stood, every muscle screamed in pain. She gently touched her face. The swelling of her lip seemed less than yesterday. However, her half-closed eye still throbbed. She knew without looking in a mirror that her face was a mass of black and blue.

The air was still and carried the warmth of summer as she moved silently out of the balloon's basket and across the field toward the stream. She knew her directions well and within a few minutes was following the small, bubbly stream as her eyes searched the blackness for the old barn. Gradually her muscles loosened, and she moved swiftly through the darkness.

In less than ten minutes Perry stumbled across an old trail that climbed upward toward the barn. With luck she'd be back at the balloon within the hour. She remembered Abram explaining that after breakfast it would take time to make the balloon ready to travel. He'd told her that they had only enough hydrogen to lift off one more time. The next time they set down, the balloon must be deflated and they would have to stay on the ground. Hunter seemed confident that they would land close to Philadelphia. Abram only chuckled and reminded Hunter of times they'd missed their mark by many miles.

As Perry stepped from the trail the dark shadow of the old barn loomed before her. It had remained unchanged by the storms of God or man. She darted across the damp grass to the barn door and forced it open. A familiar creaking of the ancient hinges welcomed her, as it had that rainy night months ago.

The barn was black inside, and Perry had to feel her way carefully. Without much difficulty she found the ladder and climbed into the familiar loft. The smell of damp hay surrounded her in the darkness, welcoming her with its familiar odor. She relaxed, letting her feet dangle beside the ladder. The last time shed been in this place seemed like a hundred lifetimes ago. At that time she'd never known a man's touch. Now she found she longed for the feel of Hunter's body next to hers with a physical pain deep inside her. Tears threatened the corners of her eyes as she realized she would carry that unsatisfied longing for him to her grave without ever knowing its absolution.

Early dawn light touched the sky, and she felt her way to the corner of the loft-and her treasure. She moved slowly for fear of stepping off the unbanked, open edge. Having hidden her mother's bundle in haste, Perry tried several boards before the old packet was once again in her possession.

Perry hugged her mother's leather bag to her breast, longing as she had all her life for a mother's touch. Whatever its contents were, something would be useful to her because her mother had begged her children to keep it close. She remembered seeing a few pieces of jewelry tucked between papers. Maybe she could sell them if times got hard. She laughed-how much harder need they be? She had no home, her brother still hadn't returned from the war, she'd lost Noma, and she was on the run from a madman who would surely kill her if he found her. In any case, this bundle contained all her possessions-all that remained of her Southern life.

As she rose, a hand touched her shoulder, freezing her progress as though an icicle had pierced her heart. Fear paralyzed her mind. The memory of Wade's beating washed over her in renewed terror.

"Didn't mean to follow you, kid, but my curiosity got the better of me," Hunter whispered from a foot behind her.

Perry let the imprisoned air out of her lungs. She closed her eyes, trying to calm adrenaline-fired blood as it ran wildly through her veins.

"What have you found?" Hunter reached casually for her package.

"No!" Perry squealed, backing away from him. Her nerves were still jumpy and her voice trembled in pain.

Suddenly Hunter bolted toward her, his strong arms imprisoning her and pulling her toward him.

Anger fired Perry into action as his touch sent a throbbing of discomfort through her body. Why must every man cause her such pain? With his arms encircling her bruised ribs, the pain of two nights before returned in full. Her body reacted like a spring too tightly coiled. She had to release her pent-up anger or snap.

Instead of withdrawing, Perry slammed her elbow hard into Hunter's chest, knocking him backward. However, his arms still encircled her, and he drew her down on top of him with such force that her hat flew off. Hunter's sharp intake of breath spoke his shock at the sight of her tangled, but still glorious, mane of hair.

She would have continued to fight, but with lightning quickness Hunter rolled over, pinning her body beneath his in the hay. Fury raced within her as she struggled helplessly to free her arms.

She could feel his body spread over her from her shoulders to her legs. His muscular weight effortlessly held her and quickly blocked any attempt she made to move.

Hunter stammered, "Easy n-now! I'm not going to take that pouch away from you. I'm sorry I startled you." He took a deep breath to relax. Perry could feel his chest rise and fall above her breasts. The rock hardness of his body molded into her softness, as it had before in the darkness.

"I only grabbed you because I saw that you were within an inch of diving off the edge of the loft," he whispered, his warm breath tickling her ear.

Perry turned her head and saw that he spoke the truth. In the half-light she hadn't realized the edge was so near. His quick action may have saved her life, but she was in no mood to thank him.

"Will you get off me, please?" she whispered, every inch of her body aware of his nearness. She breathed in the fresh, masculine scent of him as she lay beneath his hard male frame.

Hunter moved away slowly, allowing his leg to slide over Perry's body as he rolled sideways. "Sorry if I hurt you." He stood and dusted hay from his clothes, unaware of the effect his action had had on her. He retrieved her hat and slapped it against his knee before returning it. The dawn light revealed her as only a shadowy figure before him, her matted black hair covering her bruised and swollen face.

"How could I have been so dense?" The memory of her tiny, perfect body below him was thick in his mind. "Does Abram know you're a girl?"

Perry only nodded.

"So the joke's on me. I should have known. I remember a woman caring for me up here in this loft, and my mind couldn't quite accept you as a boy in camp that first day." His words came slowly as he spoke, more to himself than to Perry. "The dreams I had while I was injured made reality hard to remember for a while."

As suddenly as it had appeared, Hunter's smile vanished. "I'm sorry I hurt you just now, Perry. You look like you have enough problems without being frightened half out of your mind by someone grabbing you in the dark."

Perry turned away from him and began stuffing her hair into her hat. "You didn't hurt me as much as others have," she answered bitterly.

She couldn't see the sadness in Hunter's eyes as she spoke. He felt a great sorrow for this poor girl who'd been treated so cruelly. He found it hard to fathom that from this rough piece of coal before him his mind had fired a diamond-like beauty, but he knew now that this frightened creature was the beginning of his fantasy. His constant dreams of the heavenly woman with loving eyes and a soft kiss had begun forming in this very loft, with this sad creature before him.

"Is your name really Perry?" Hunter asked.

"Yes," she answered, still not looking up at him.

Hunter walked over to stand above her. "Perry, is there any way I can help you?"

She couldn't mistake the sincerity in his voice. That low, earnest tone that told her he'd put his life behind his words if necessary. Dear God, she thought, how I hate hearing only pity in his low voice. But she must swallow her pride if she was to enlist his aid.

Keeping her head low, Perry stood up beside him, her hat now shading her blackened face from his view. "I have to get back to Philadelphia quickly. A man is trying to force me to marry him."

"Is he the one who hurt you so?" Hunter asked, anger flickering in his words. Perry heard the same cold steel in his voice she'd heard months ago when he'd talked with the two deserters who had tried to rob them. She knew that beneath his calm, relaxed exterior lay a caged animal. Others must feel it also. He was not a man to cross, yet she must dress her truth in lies.

"Yesterday was to be my wedding day," she answered. "I ran away once, and he beat me. He didn't think I'd have the strength to try it again. I think he'll kill me if he finds me." Her words came as fact, without emotion.

"You look so tiny, but I have the feeling you'd die rather than marry this man." Hunter moved back into the shadows to allow her to pass him. "I'll help you, Perry. I would have offered the same help if you were a boy or a girl. There was no need to pretend."

Perry could feel Hunter's kindness toward her and sense his anger at the man who had hurt her. She wasn't sure how he'd react if he knew his Cousin Wade was the vile groom she was to marry. The less said to Hunter, the better. Before Hunter had time for more questions, she slipped past him, mumbling something about Abram needing her.

Hunter watched her move silently down the ladder. She looked no more than a boy, but Hunter knew from holding her in his arms that she was a full-grown woman. The memory of her soft body hidden beneath her filthy clothes returned to him in a tidal wave. His fingers clenched into fists, then relaxed as he scolded himself and his desire. He moved to follow, then withdrew, unsure. The last thing she needed right now was to be frightened again.

Crossing the loft floor, he watched as she ran across the grass and disappeared down the trail leading to the stream. He spread his arms wide above his head and pushed on the aging beams until they creaked in strain. Now he knew that the origin of his dreams lay with Perry.

She had sparked his mind into conjuring up a vision of an angel of mercy, an angel whose form haunted his every dream, an angel who made all other beauty dim in the light of her memory. Reason told him there was no way this poor creature could be the beautiful woman he'd seen in the shadows of the night. Perry was a dirty farm girl, whereas his angel was a grand lady with a shining halo of hair. Her kiss had ignited a fire within him. His longing to see her was a hunger so great, he felt he might die of starvation if he couldn't have her.

Lately he'd questioned his sanity. For when he held Jennifer close, he longed only for the woman in his dreams. She danced like a playful nymph across his thoughts. Appearing, disappearing. Close, faraway. Sometimes she was a fierce fire he would douse from his mind. Yet at other times his arms ached with desire for her. Hunter realized his dream had been given its beginning in this darkened loft. Now this dream haunted him even into his waking hours. No woman, not even Jennifer, could clear the angel's beauty from his mind. It puzzled him how touching Perry could have brought back so strongly the desire to hold his imaginary woman. Maybe he should marry, before his longing for a dream drowned reality.

He hurried down the ladder to follow Perry, but she was already out of sight. He couldn't blame her for avoiding men if one had so damaged her face.

Slowly walking back to the camp, he tried to push the memory of his angel back in his mind. She belonged in his dreams, not in his waking hours. By the time Hunter reached the balloon, Abram was already loading supplies. They worked hard readying the balloon for flight, Perry pulling her share of the chores.

Perry avoided his glance until the Northern Star was airborne. Then, suddenly, the basket grew confining to her. His quick glance from Abram to Perry told Hunter his black friend knew far more than he was saying.

They sailed effortlessly in a gentle, northern current for almost an hour before either spoke.

Hunter broke the silence. "Perry, look!" he yelled as he pointed out a small farming town. People were waving frantically from below. Children danced around as their voices drifted up in contagious excitement. Perry laughed at the sight.

"They love seeing us," she said, leaning as far as she dared over the edge to return their greetings.

"True." Hunter grinned, watching her. "But we balloon flyers haven't always been so lucky. Not only did farmers mistake balloonists for monsters, but some early balloonists were beaten by the crowds if they were unable to take off on time. One French aeronaut failed to go up in Philadelphia years ago. The sightseers didn't seem to notice that winds were close to hurricane force. They rushed him from all sides. His aerial carriage and silk balloon were shredded for souvenirs. Even a mansion close by was burned to the ground by the angry mob."

"It sounds like ballooning could be a very dangerous hobby." Perry didn't look at Hunter when she spoke.

"Oh, it is," Hunter answered, his voice filled with a happiness that only showed when he talked of ballooning. "But it gets in your blood. I've dreamed of being able to fly since I was a kid. I used to build kites and tie frogs to them. The frogs never seemed as excited about being able to sail through the sky as I was."

Perry laughed. Her musical voice danced among the clouds. Hunter turned to watch her but found that her face was hidden by her hat. He tried to remember what she had looked like before her skin was so blackened and puffy. The last time they'd been together he'd been very weak from loss of blood. Those days in the barn, and later on the road, were a jumble of memories. He'd spent the time drifting in and out of consciousness.

"Perry," he began, "you don't have to wear that hat now. I know you're a girl."

Abram snorted in the background but didn't speak.

"I feel better wearing it," she lied. She longed to let her hair blow in the breeze, but she couldn't stand for Hunter to look at her blackened face again.

Hunter sensed her uneasiness and continued talking to cheer her. "You know you're not the first woman to fly. Marie Antoinette wanted to once. But an actress named Letitia Sage actually went up for about an hour in 1784. They say she was a beautiful lady, but as a balloonist, she was lacking. She was no help as a crew member and weighed over two hundred pounds."

Abram laughed, interrupting him. "She'd make two of our Perry.''

Hunter noticed the way Abram spoke of Perry, as if she belonged to them. He found this surprising because Abram usually just observed people and rarely became involved with them. However, he seemed to have adopted this poor girl. He watched her with the protectiveness of a mother grizzly.

Turning to smile at Perry, Hunter found her head averted as always. He could feel her watching him when she thought he couldn't see her, but she never looked directly at him. Maybe, if he kept talking, she would lower her guard and look at him.

"Another woman went up about two years ago. I got a letter from a friend visiting Paris in '63, telling me that a Frenchman called Nadar took his wife up for more than sixteen hours. They say he built a huge craft. The balloon could lift more than four and a half tons. He made the basket more like a small summer cottage. It even had a darkroom to develop pictures. He has this idea about developing pictures taken high up to use for maps." Hunter moved slowly as he spoke, trying to see Perry's face. She met his every advance with a withdrawal.

"Anyway, five men and one woman went. Just after dawn on the second day the six passengers were admiring the beautiful sunrise when one started worrying about what the hot sun might do to all that gas. They decided to land but encountered a storm close to ground, blocking their descent.

"The balloon went crazy, acting like a large sail, dragging the little house across the countryside." Hunter placed his hand high on the same rope Perry was using to steady herself.

"The cottage tore apart everything in its path, including telegraph poles. Finally, after fifteen miles of havoc, a dense forest caught the balloon, which, once trapped, exploded within minutes. Nadar's wife was the only one left in the basket. All the others had fallen out along the way." He moved his hand down the rope a few inches and frowned as Perry moved away slightly.

"The miracle of it all was that no one died, though all were injured." Hunter moved his hand lower once more, and again Perry moved away.

Abram broke into Hunter's story. "You're really making Perry feel safe up here."

Giving up his quest to see her face, Hunter moved back to his instruments. "We've got easy sailing today. We're moving north and there's not a cloud in the sky."

By nightfall, his words would no longer ring true.