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In “Hester’s Journey” by Dale Marie Taylor, readers are transported to the heart of the U.S. Civil War era, following the courageous journey of Cherokee Hester Beasley. From the multiracial community of Apple Hill, Tennessee, Hester embarks on a perilous adventure through Confederate territory and Pennsylvania Amish communities.
When her Uncle Wahali invites her to join him at Gettysburg to aid the war wounded, little do they know that they will witness one of the fiercest and bloodiest battles in American history. Alongside her, readers will meet other brave women who, like Hester, defy societal norms and show remarkable resilience.
The narrative also intertwines with characters from the Apple Hill Series, particularly Awinta and Easter, adding layers of complexity and depth to the story. As Hester’s love, Austin, an African American man fighting against Confederate oppression, joins her, the story becomes a compelling tale of love, bravery, and the enduring human spirit.
“Hester’s Journey” is not just a story about one woman’s courage—it’s a testament to the strength and determination of all those who faced adversity during one of the most challenging periods in North American history.
Write to Dale Marie to find out when the next book in the Apple Hill Series will be released. The working title — Minnie’s Murder. Expected release — 2025. Write to Dale Marie at dmarietaylor@gmail.com
A Sample Chapter from Hester’s Journey
Chapter 1, A LETTER
Hester spread more kernels of feed for the chickens she and Easter kept in the small coop in their barn. The chickens were able to go out in the pen when she opened a door in the barn wall. She clucked to them and then wiped her hands on her apron, walked to the barn and drove the cows and horses out to the pasture.
Her brother, Ethan, waved to her from the field, where he was busy sowing seeds and preparing the earth for another year of crops. She began cleaning out the stalls and then turned her attention to watering the livestock. They didn’t have much, but there was just enough to cause work for Hester and Ethan. She was dressed in a long blue work dress. It was buttoned at the top and gathered at the waist. It was shorter than normal to keep the dirt and refuse of farm animals from dirtying her hem.
The small plot of land had been sold to them by the neighboring white family, the Rheas. The barn was rough-hewn but large for a farm the size of her mother’s. Awinta, Hester’s aunt, spent her time in the woods, hunting, fishing and gathering whatever she could to help the family. She had her own small cabin in the woods, not far from Easter’s cottage. Ethan worked in the field behind their home.
The cabin had been enlarged over the years and included two more rooms and a work area for her mother, Easter, who was the local medicine woman. She healed cuts, tended gashes, removed growths, set broken legs and arms, and helped with other aspects of healing. The cabin was painted a simple white and was more sophisticated than most as it had windows, which were gifted to the family because of a healing emergency. A fireplace built from stones gathered from the hilly area was on the left side of the house and used for cooking and heating. A second fireplace was in a side room to the back of the cottage.
Here, Easter allowed her patients to recover from the mishaps or conditions she treated. An additional small fireplace sat in the center of the house and was vented through the roof of cypress shingles. That fireplace heated the rooms that were used by the family. The house had a loft and an expansive living space. The kitchen was set off to the left of the front room. Two back rooms were used for tending livestock that needed sheltering from storms and for the preparation of food and clothing.
Hester spent her childhood at her mother’s side, watching and learning. Hester knew how to do much of what her mother did. The two women practiced the healing arts using natural substances. In Easter’s healing room, there were shelves that held small bottles of herbs, such as black cohosh, black walnut, burdock, cayenne, chickweed, golden seal, myrrh, peppermint, red clover, sage, sarsaparilla, and white willow. Under the four shelves, Hester’s mother had a cabinet that included items for making tinctures and a mortar and pestle for grinding substances into powders and poultices. Her mother kept a collection of clean bits of cloth that she used for bandages in the cabinet, along with salves, soap and disinfectants. Hester learned how to use all the tools of her mother’s trade.
The room that held Easter’s healing tools included an assortment of sharp knives for cutting, planed wood for broken limbs, and a device for listening to hearts. Hester spent many days playing with the wooden tube made for her mother by her father. It was patterned after a device made by a doctor in France. Easter taught Hester how to listen for various sounds in the body. A rapid heartbeat with pain in the chest might mean that the patient needed something more sophisticated than willow bark. Hester thought about William Ezel. His father had died recently, and he was now head of his family. His mother had asked Hester to serve as her nurse for a while. When Hester went to the house, which was quite a drive using the little wagon and one horse, she’d visit with William. He’d keep his distance, but she knew there was some attraction between them. Hester sighed as she thought of William. They were not destined for each other. Her attraction to Austin was much stronger, and she knew it. She and Austin had made a promise to one another; that she felt to her soul.
Easter had a farmer in her recovery room. Ely Gordon had fallen from his horse while tending the fields. The beast had been frightened by a wildcat. The fall had broken Ely’s leg in two places and injured him internally. Normally, Easter sent her patients home to recover, but Ely was unconscious and bleeding from a large gash to his abdomen as well. A neighboring farmer had brought him to Easter. Hester helped Easter clean the wound and watched as her mother sewed Ely together.
The blood from the wound seemed to gush, but eventually, it stopped. Easter instructed Hester to feed Ely beef broth and chicken soup, saying he needed to recover the lost blood.
Ely’s slow recovery began. Hester had spent several hours with her mother as she removed an injured spleen, cleansed and repaired Ely’s intestines and sewed him up. It took some time for Easter to determine whether Ely could recover. Hester dropped into the recovery room and checked on Mr. Gordon. A fever he had struggled with for days had broken, and he was finally resting peacefully. Hester placed a hand on his head and tested his temperature. The fever was down. It would take him a few more days to recover enough to be moved.
Easter came to the door of the recovery room and looked in on Ely. She smiled at Hester. “He was lucky,” she said, in hushed tones. “He fell on something sharp that injured his organs, but he was able to pull through.”
“Is it that way with anyone who has a fall this bad?” Hester asked. Easter sighed.
“A strong constitution helps,” Easter said. “And good, strong family blood. But it will be up to him whether he recovers the full use of his legs.” Hester walked out of the recovery room and closed the door softly behind her.
“Many doctors would have amputated his leg,” Hester said.
“Yes, I know,” Easter said. “Sometimes it’s done unnecessarily. Sometimes, it can’t be helped. If the wound is left to fester, there is no other choice but to take the leg. But, if the leg is kept clean and dry and allowed to heal naturally, he has a chance to heal.” Hester nodded and went about her chores. She had put together a bag of her own and made some calls alone when women needed a midwife. She gradually built trust with her neighbors as she became more accomplished.
Hester’s father, Arter, had disappeared years ago. Arter was excited and proud when Ethan was born, but before Ethan was born, Hester was their only child; many of the chores fell to her, especially when Easter, her mother, was busy. Easter encouraged Hester to visit patients at their homes as she had long decided she would spend more time in the study of healing.
She examined the insides of those who were to be buried. She compared them to the barnyard animals and included Hester in her explorations and insights. Hester proved herself to be an apt student. When she wasn’t helping her mother with the nature of healing, she worked at keeping the farm running.
They had a worker, Josiah, who came by three times a week to help with some of the cultivation and harvesting. Hester walked outside and turned her attention to filling the wooden troughs with water from the well and then went back to the cabin. Easter was busy helping one of the women of Apple Hill.
Jasmine Sayer was nine months pregnant, and the baby was overdue. Jasmine and Hester were fast friends and had grown up together. When Hester wasn’t working the farm or helping her mother, she and Jasmine took long walks or rode in the woods. Hester’s Aunt Awinta often accompanied them.
Jasmine’s husband, Winfield Hernandez, a freeman, had joined the colored troops for the war. They had not heard from him in several months. But Jasmine was determined not to worry. She said she knew that Winfield would return.
“Try to walk as much as you can,” Easter said to Jasmine, a woman who had been a regular for Easter. Easter was dressed in her blue calico dress, a white headscarf tied around her hair. Her dark hair was pulled back into a roll, and her olive skin shone with health. She walked to her shelves of tea leaves, tinctures and powders and picked out a tea for Jasmine.
“Drink this tea three times a day and be certain to walk in the morning and in the evening,” Easter said. “It won’t be long. Have your father’s cousin, Thomas, come for me when your time is near. It should be any day now.” Jasmine sighed, pulling on the oversized grey cloth that served as a maternity dress. She hefted her large stomach and ambled herself off the table. Easter was helping her rise from the small table that she’d had Jasmine lie on as Hester walked in the back door. Hester washed her hands in the basin beside the door and dried them. She walked softly to her mother’s side.
Jasmine brightened when she saw Hester.
“There you are,” Jasmine said. “Can you walk me home, Hester? I think my mother has a letter for you.” Her mother and father kept an informal post office for the Apple Hill villagers. Anyone who had mail had only to walk to Jasmine’s house to get it. Hester guessed that her uncle’s letter had been sent to a contractor who provided supplies to the Union Army at Nashville. From there, who knew how it had gotten to the Apple Hill?
The two women ambled along, making small talk and catching up on the news.
“My mother says that we are free,” Jasmine said. “Lincoln freed all slaves in January. So, no one can really claim to have slaves.”
“Wasn’t it a question whether you were ever slaves to begin with?” Hester asked.
“Winfield was never a slave,” Jasmine said. “His family made certain of it. He wants me to meet him in Galveston after the baby is born.”
Hester bent and picked up a stick and threw it for Yona, who had been tagging along behind them, stopping every now and then to smell something on the side of the road. A wagon rattled by carrying a couple of Confederate soldiers and supplies. Scouts rode astride two Morgans and looked inquisitively at the women. The two women stopped in their tracks and looked furtively at the wagon, then kept walking.
It was unusual to see Confederate soldiers back in the hills as the area was difficult to navigate and so far from townships. Though some of them raided farms for supplies and food, this group seemed to be on a different mission and kept riding through Apple Hill.
“So, it isn’t a matter of whether you are free or not, but what you want to do with your life,” Hester said, turning her head to look at the Confederates as they rode into the distances.
“I don’t know what I want to do beyond having this baby,” Jasmine said, placing a hand on her lower back. “I am so ready to have her.”
“Oh, you know it’s going to be a girl?” Hester asked.
“Certainly,” Jasmine said, grinning. “Of course, it’s going to be a girl. Your mother says so. If I get to Galveston, she will have a grand life.” They arrived at Jasmine’s family home and walked up the few steps to the porch. A bell hung from a rope on the porch, and a rocking chair and two wooden chairs sat beside it.
Jasmine’s father, Andrew Sayer, was a carpenter and made furniture. So the Sayers had plenty of furniture of their own. The day was cool and crisp. The spring sun was beginning to warm the ground. Crops were beginning to spring up — corn across the road, wheat in a field behind the cottages. Small vegetable gardens were full of green beans, squash and greens. Jasmine’s mother, Anna, came to the door with Hester’s letter in her hand.
“I heard you girls coming up the road,” Anna said. “Be careful of those soldiers, you hear? They could get violent at any time. Times are changing. You got to be careful.” Both girls looked at each other and nodded solemnly.
“Sit down here, and I’ll pour you some sweet cider,” Anna said, handing the letter to Hester. Hester thanked Anna and held the letter out in the sunlight so that she could see the writing. Easter had taught her how to read and write, so she knew whom the letter was from and what her uncle might say. The sound of liquid pouring in the glasses beside them helped the two women settle back in their chairs. Hester leaned her head back on the chair and looked up. She sighed.
“Well,” Jasmine said, moving from left to right a bit to get comfortable in the rocking chair. “Aren’t you going to read it?”
“No, not now,” Hester said. “I want to enjoy this moment with you.” Jasmine smiled, shook her head as though she didn’t understand Hester, and took a sip of her drink.
“I wish I received letters,” Jasmine said, also leaning back in the rocking chair. “But most of my other relatives can’t read or write. Winfield can write. He said he will send a letter as soon as he can.”
“We are lucky,” Hester said. “Not many women know how to read and write, especially in these parts.” The rocking chair creaked as Jasmine pushed it back and forth on the wooden porch.
“That reminds me, Hester,” Jasmine said. “Don’t forget to get the book you loaned me, Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl by Harriet Jacobs. It was a chilling story. You will want to read it again, keep it close by. It’s almost forbidden in these parts. Your mother was lucky to get a copy of it.”
Anna, who’d heard Jasmine’s comment, had retrieved Hester’s book and handed it to her, smiling tightly as though to say, “Don’t get my daughter into trouble.” Hester closed her eyes and felt herself relaxing. But before she could get fully comfortable, she felt a pecan hit her on the head. Her head snapped to attention, and she looked around. She didn’t see anyone, so she assumed it was a falling nut from the nearby pecan tree. Then another hit her on the shoulder. Then, she knew. Awinta. She stood and looked over the porch railing and spotted Awinta’s dog, Bly. He seemed to smile up at her, panting as he sat innocently waiting for Awinta to show herself.
“I know it’s you, Awinta,” Hester said, laughing. “Only you would think to throw pecans at me. Show yourself.”
“Why should I?” a voice called from a distance. “You’re busy being lazy, so I decided to wake you up.”
Hester turned to Jasmine and smiled. She went over to Jasmine and gave her a hug.
“I’ll see you later, Jasmine,” she said. “Don’t forget to walk frequently and send Thomas the minute you think your time has come.” Jasmine nodded. Thomas helped Jasmine’s father with odd chores around the farm.
“Yes, yes,” she said. “I know.” She held her hand out, and Hester helped her rise from the rocking chair. Hester opened to door so Jasmine could waddle inside. They waved at one another. Hester headed down the steps and looked around the house. She tucked the letter into her bodice and just as she rounded the corner of the house another pecan hit her in the head.
“Awinta! Stop!”
Hester picked up the pecan and hid behind a tree. When she saw where Awinta was hiding, she hurled the nut at her aunt. It hit Awinta on the head and she came barreling toward Hester. Awinta was dressed in brown leather pantaloons, good and sturdy for the hunting and riding she did. She wore a dark green tunic over a layer of clothing. Her long hair was pulled back with a leather tie. None of this shocked Hester as the two had been close for years. But they took precautions for Awinta not to show herself in civilization. The two women took turns throwing nuts and leaves at one another as Yona and Bly pranced around them, barking happily and playing as the two women played. They raced one another alongside the road toward Easter’s house, but stopped just as they arrived.
“I think I know what your letter says,” Awinta said, panting and leaning on her knees with her hands.
“You do, do you? And how would you know?”
“I’m just smart like that,” Awinta said, grinning. “It’s from your Uncle Wahalie.” They stopped in front of the cabin and walked toward a bench under one of the many shade trees in the garden. A red-tailed hawk cried in the distance, certainly looking for creatures around the many barns in the area. They sat on the bench, which was near a small pond. Turtles bubbled air to the surface. One sat on a rock on the edge of the pond. Another dove for the delicate grasses below the surface. A little stream that ran into the pond made soothing sounds as Hester opened the letter, nearly holding her breath. A downy woodpecker could be heard in the distance. Hester looked at Awinta and smiled. It was still rather cool out, but a gentle breeze blew among the tall grasses nearby and through the shady trees.
Dear Hester, I hope this letter finds you well. How are Awinta, Easter and Ethan? I suppose your brother will want to sign up to serve in the war. He is sorely needed in the colored regiments. I’m certain he will make you all proud. Tell him that if he is interested in joining the war effort, he must travel as soon as possible to the northern borders. There he will be able to sign up. Otherwise, he is likely to be captured and held by the Confederates. Hummingbird, who we now call Alea, is doing well and has been caring for our children and the patients who come to our clinic. Our children are nearly grown now, as you know. James and Anita are planning on different occupations. Anita is a talented painter but wants to be a doctor, and James is determined to build bridges. We will see what they make of themselves. Meanwhile, we are continually treating the sick and poor. Tensions are high in Brooklyn where colored people are signing up to serve in the war. There is much resentment from the Irish and other immigrants who do not think colored men should serve in the war but do not wish to serve in the war themselves. It is likely there will be an explosion of hatred. However, I am bound for Pennsylvania. Hummingbird is standing in for me at the clinic while I’m away. James is helping where he is able, but Anita is truly her right hand.
We’ve often written to one another about the possibility of your traveling east. Now is the time. I’ve enclosed a draft to you so that you might find your way north and then to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. I have been serving in the war as a doctor and have treated many wounds. I know that you wish to learn as much as possible about modern medical techniques, but if you join me, you will use mostly the rudimentary skills taught to you by your mother, Easter.
Women are volunteering for service, but some are serving in an official capacity. I don’t wish to deceive you, Hester. It is possible that you will be asked to perform the most menial of tasks. Many women are being assigned as laundresses, cooks, and cleaners. If you feel that you are unable to suffer through some of this, you might want to remain with your mother. However, if you don’t fear such menial tasks, and I doubt that you do, considering the amount of work you do on the farm, make haste to Pennsylvania. It is unlikely that John Hester will escort you on the journey; there are many dangers and challenges on the way. Perhaps Ethan can escort you. You must be careful. Ask Awinta if she would like to join you. Though I’m certain she will find an opportunity for many adventures, she is likely not to put up with the menial tasks assigned to women. Ask her anyway. We could use all the help we can get. When you are finished with your service, you are welcome to live with us in New York. I know that you have longed to see the big city. Maybe it will agree with you.
Hester stopped reading and looked into the distance. She thought of Austin, who had already left for the Union cause, and of William, who had joined the rebels. Awinta sat stoically beside her. Finally, Awinta spoke.
“What else does the letter say? Are you going to join your uncle? Are you going to leave Easter?”
“Those are too many questions at once, Awinta,” Hester said. “I need to think about this.” After a while, she sighed and said the letter continued to give her instructions for how to get to her destination.
“What’s there to think about?” Awinta asked. “You’ve been wanting to leave this place for years.” Hester sighed and thought about her options. There were two men who interested her. Austin Buford had been asking her to take walks with Winfield and Jasmine for the last year. They only stopped when Winfield left for the war, and Jasmine became too ungainly to walk far. Also, Austin was already bound for serving the Union Army.
Hester sometimes worked for the Ezels in town. Though she would never admit it out loud, she knew that William Ezel was interested in her. He would inherit one day and had asked her if she would ever consider returning his affections. She had pointed out their differences and never answered his question. She was more drawn to Austin. She took a deep breath and looked at Awinta, who had risen from the bench and was playing catch with Bly and Yona. Awinta stopped her play with the two dogs and walked over to Hester.
“Your uncle is right,” Awinta said. “This is not for me at all. But you will make a difference there. Do it.”
“I don’t know,” Hester said, sighing.
“What’s holding you back?” Awinta asked.
“My mother needs me.”
“She will do fine while you’re gone. She has me, and there are many other women nearby who will come to her aid if necessary.”
“I don’t know,” Hester said, tracing a finger over the rough wood of the bench. Awinta sat down beside her. The dogs had trotted off near the pasture and were headed to Ethan, who was still working in the fields.
Hester thought back to the last time she saw Austin. He’d been determined to find the Union Army, to serve, to prove that he was every bit a man as any other. Though rumor was that the Bufords still held him and his family, the Bufords seemed to allow talented workers like Austin and his father to hire themselves out.
“I know you don’t want me to go,” he’d said.
“But this is my chance to save up for us. We can have a nice cottage and live on land my mother says will come to her.” Austin was beautiful, with dark chocolate skin, warm brown eyes and about six feet of height. He was muscled with broad shoulders and strong legs from farm work. His hair was closely cropped. His nose took up little of his face, and his jaws were prominent. He wore a white work shirt and brown trousers. His trousers fit him well, and his work shirt was unbuttoned at the top. He wore black work boots.
“What if you don’t make it back, Austin?” Hester asked. He held her close and kissed her.
“I will,” he said. “I will come back for you.”
“Maybe I’ll come to you,” Hester said.
“The war is no place for women,” Austin said.
“Stay here and help your mother with her patients. Now that Negro men are permitted to join the war, it will be over fast. Mark my words.” He sighed and hugged her to him.
“I can be of help too,” Hester said. “I can hunt and shoot as well as Awinta, and I can also help the wounded.”
“Likely, you’d be shot or hurt in some other way before you even made it to the Union side,” Austin said. “Stay here where you’ll be safe.” Austin appeared to be considering his words. He sighed.
“You’re not going to do as I ask, are you?” he said.
“I will,” Hester said, smiling. But her fingers were crossed behind her back.