Mourning’s sleeping figure.
“Mourning,” she said, bending down toward him. He emitted a grumpy noise
and rolled over, away from her voice. She lightly nudged his foot with hers.
“Mourning, don’t you want to get up and meet our new neighbor?”
“Do you think it will be easier to rouse him if you tell him it’s morning?”
Jeremy asked as he rested his rifle against the wagon and removed the water skin
and possibles bag he wore strapped to his back.
It took her a moment to understand the question. “Oh, no, that’s his name.
Mourning.”
“And does he have siblings named Afternoon and Night?”
“It’s m-o-u – like grieving. It’s a long story.” She nudged Mourning’s foot
again.
“Perhaps we’d best leave him to his kip,” Jeremy said.
“Oh, I’m sure he’d be sorry not to make your acquaintance.”
“What?” Mourning stirred and blinked himself awake.
“I apologize for disturbing you, but I wanted you to meet our new neighbor,”
Olivia said.
Mourning got to his feet and shook himself.
“Mourning Free this is Jeremy … Kincaid was it?”
Jeremy nodded and offered his hand to Mourning. Olivia was happy to note
that he did so more naturally than most white men took the hand of a colored.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Kincaid.”
“Pleasure is mine. It will be good to have someone living in the old Scruggs
place.”
“Jeremy lives close by,” Olivia said. “He can tell us how to get there.”
“That be a help.” Mourning stretched and lit the lantern. “I’m a get the fire stirred up. Heat us a pot a coffee.”
“Sounds good to me,” Jeremy said as he walked past the wagon to inspect the
hobbled oxen. “Looks like a good strong team you’ve got.”
“Indeed,” Mourning said. He turned over a bucket and nodded at it. “You can
set yourself on that.”
Jeremy stooped to pick up a long stick, then sat on the bucket and scratched
lines in the dirt. Olivia watched him, feeling blessed by their good luck: the uneventful trip on the steamer, the ease with which Mourning had found the
wagon and team, and now this new friend miraculously appearing to help them
find their way. Their meeting in the woods was providential. A sign. This was right. This was what she was supposed to do. People were allowed to change
their fate; they were even rewarded for doing so. Jeremy felt like a gift.
“You’re here,” Jeremy pronounced, tapping the stick on the ground. Olivia
and Mourning stepped to either side of him to study the little map he had drawn.
“Turn the way the sign points and go about two-three miles until you come to a
river. Fae’s Landing is on the other side of it. You need to go into town for anything?”
“Nah,” Mourning replied. “Miz Killion here know how to shop like nobody
