Promise Bridge Read Online Free PDF Page A

reveal a blackened bed of dead ash beneath the overturned dirt.
    “Well, looky here,” Marcus said to nobody in particular. “Somebody already done dug us a fire pit.” He then reached for the pile of harvested pines and began patiently pulling each branch through his fist. As he pulled, a shower of dry needles toppled into the hole until each branch was stripped bare and a hefty blanket of needles filled the ditch. Paying no mind to me, Marcus continued on, snapping the branches to a uniform size and standing them up against each other over the bed of needles like a miniature Indian tepee. Digging deep in his pocket, he pulled out two flint rocks no bigger than a pig’s eye. Holding them down at the edge of the ditch, Marcus skillfully struck one to the other without pause until a wisp of smoke began rising from the sparked, dry needles. Soon a small fire was crackling within the tented branches, and once the flames took hold, Marcus broke off a section of the stump and positioned it until the wood ignited with a hiss, creating a comforting glow within the dimming cave.
    “Why doesn’t Livetta speak?” I asked as I moved opposite Marcus and sat next to the fire.
    Not feeling the need to look up at me, Marcus coaxed the fire to life with a long stick. With each poke, bursts of sparks swarmed above our heads like angry bees tormented from their hive. “What’chu want her to say? ‘Thanks for shootin’ me; I am much obliged’?”
    “I didn’t shoot her,” I stated firmly. “Anyway, it was an accident.”
    “Don’t matter.” He shrugged to distance himself from me. “Ain’t breakin’ no laws spillin’ the blood of a colored.”
    I paused for a moment before answering. “It matters to me. Why, I wouldn’t swat a fly even if it landed in the middle of my breakfast marmalade.”
    “Well, Livetta ain’t no fly!” he said with a fierce jab, sending a cloud of smoke and sparks to the ceiling. “Point is, she don’t have to talk to the likes of you if she don’t wanna.”
    We sat in silence with nothing but the crackling fire to ease the tension between us. From the angle of the late-day sun bending through the smoky opening above, I surmised I should begin my trek back down the mountain. Aunt Augusta would surely question me if I returned after sundown. I thought about Winston and the whipping he had taken because of me. So much had happened since I ran off from town. I never could have imagined my footsteps were leading me here, to a secret cavern with two runaways. Was I trying to ease my guilt? If so, it wasn’t working. I could make no sense of my actions, and like Winston had earlier, I knew who would pay for my mistakes if we were found out.
    The pounding of boots through the brush outside froze Marcus’s eyes to mine. He leapt up and broke off a leg of the stump and wielded it in his hands as he backed into the shadows. I rushed to Livetta’s bed and grabbed the gun. I turned and pointed it at the entrance just as Colt squeezed through with a large cotton satchel slung across his shoulder.
    “It was only Mac Prentiss hunting rabbit.”
    “Mac?” I said as I let the rifle relax in my grip.
    “The hounds,” he answered as he dropped the sack at his feet. “Mac Prentiss was hunting rabbit in the hollows between the meadow and the river. But just to be safe, I ran down along the riverbank with the neckerchief and rubbed scent on some rocks and trees. I tossed it in the current so it couldn’t be tracked back up here.”
    My jaw dropped in amazement, because I feared when Colt returned it would be on the shoulder of Uncle Mooney and Twitch, armed with leg irons and bullwhips. But to my relief, Colt’s loyalty to me had spared Livetta and Marcus, at least for the moment. What would happen beyond today was a thought I chased from my mind. Yet part of me could not help wondering why I cared so much.
    “I doubled back to West Gate for some supplies,” he said, as Marcus reappeared from the