by Aileen Fish
“It will be good for you,” Mrs. Brickman said in a no-nonsense voice.
Anna followed them into the kitchen. Her father moved ahead to open the attic door and led the way up the steep, narrow wooden stairs, and the women followed. Anna climbed the stairs gingerly with the baby. Her father held out a hand to assist her on the final few steps into the attic.
“Here is your baby,” she said to the smaller woman when she emerged into the attic.
The younger woman took the baby and held her tightly.
“We have never had a baby here before,” Anna said gently, “or two women. I know it is hard for you to get away from the plantations. And to get this far with your baby? It is a miracle.”
“The man brought us up from Missouri,” the older one said. “We’ve been traveling five days.”
Anna nodded sympathetically. “I have heard it is a long journey, but you are here now, and you can rest for a day or two until the next conductor comes to get you. My father will arrange that.”
Her father tended to a small stove they had built into a corner of the attic. He stoked a nice little fire before rising.
“Please settle yourselves—attend to the infant, if need be,” he said kindly. “I will go see if Mrs. Brickman needs any help.”
Anna nodded and turned to look at the women, huddled in their blankets, dark skin glowing under the fire of the stove.
“Goodness! Forgive me. I have left you standing, and you so tired. Please sit while I make up a second bed.” Anna pointed to a table and two wooden chairs resting against a wall. Opening an old wooden wardrobe, Anna pulled out a thin mattress and several more blankets she and Mrs. Brickman had stored in there.
She made the bed on the floor next to the one already in place.
“Will you need a bed for the baby?”
The younger one shook her head. “No, ma’am, Sara sleeps with me.”
“Sara! What a lovely name. My name is Anna Douglas, by the way. And you are?”
“Suzy,” the older one said, “and this is my sister, Sally.”
“Lots of s names,” Anna said with a smile.
“Yes, ma’am,” Suzy said. “The mistress named us.”
Anna drew in a small breath but did not let them see. “So, your parents did not name you,” she said flatly.
“No, ma’am. The mistress wanted to name all the slaves.”
“Are you warm?” Anna asked. The stove was warming the room nicely. “Will the baby be warm enough?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Sally let slip her blanket, and Anna studied her threadbare cotton blouse and skirt. They were heavily soiled.
“Good. Now, we do not have any women’s clothing stored up here, but I am sure I can find you something to wear from my closet.”
“We don’t want to be no trouble, ma’am. What we got on is jes’ fine,” Suzy said.
“Your clothes look threadbare. I really would prefer you to have some thicker clothing. It is spring all right, but still quite cool at night.”
Anna eyed the baby, now sleeping in her mother’s arms. That her father was a white man was evident by her golden skin. Anna hoped that whoever he was, he did not search harder for Sally because she had taken his child.
“When do we get on the train, ma’am?” Suzy asked. “I ain’t never been on no train.”
Anna smiled gently. This was not the first time she had heard this question.
“You will not be traveling on a train, Suzy, but by wagon again, at least to your next stop. From there, you might go by boat or by wagon again. It is called the Underground Railroad because you travel from station to station.”
Suzy narrowed her dark eyes as if she did not understand.
“Are we free yet?” Sally asked in her hoarse whisper.
“You are in a free state, Sally, but you are not out of danger from those who would take you back,” Anna said. “Soon! Soon, you will be free to live as you please.”
Her father returned followed by Mrs. Brickman carrying a tray. She set it down on the table between the women and dispensed two bowls of the hearty soup that Anna and her father had enjoyed for their supper. A half loaf of bread and a pot of tea with two cups completed their supper.
The women stared at the food for a moment.
“This all for us?”
Mrs. Brickman nodded. “Yes, eat up.”
Anna watched Sally attempt to juggle the baby to her other arm so that she could eat.
“Do you want me to hold the baby?” Anna asked.
“I don’t want to be no trouble, ma’am,” she said, echoing her sister’s earlier words.
“I would love to hold her,” Anna said. She had always had a fondness for babies and hoped one day to have some of her own. But that day seemed far, far away, as she rarely met any men who interested her.
Anna scooped the baby up and surveyed the room for another place to sit.
“Here,” her father said. He strode to a corner and pulled a dusty sheet from a chair—a rocking chair.
“I built it for your mother,” he said softly, pulling the chair forward.
“It is beautiful, Father,” Anna said. Anna’s mother had died shortly after Anna’s birth, and Anna knew how much he had loved his young wife.
Anna settled into the chair and rocked the baby, who continued to sleep. Tiny little brown curls framed her face, and she made sucking motions with her mouth.
“She is so beautiful,” Anna said again.
Sally and Suzy said little as they ate voraciously. Anna did not know how long it had been since they had eaten, and she knew the journey was arduous and dangerous, leaving little time to eat or ability to light fires to cook—not if they wanted to escape detection.
The image of traveling through the cold nights reminded her of the conductor. In fact, he had not been far from her thoughts since she had first seen him—tall and mysterious with his face half covered, his voice cultured with a deep resonance eminently suited to his enigmatic presentation. None of the other conductors she had met had been so compelling. Some had been Quakers, some ministers, some freedmen, and while all had practiced a measure of secrecy, none had covered their faces.
“If that is all, I think I will retire,” Mrs. Brickman said. “I will bring breakfast upstairs in the morning.” She turned and descended the stairs.
Anna’s father stared after the housekeeper, a tall, slender woman with still-dark hair.
“Yes, well, I will return to bed as well. Do not be too long with the infant, Anna. You need your sleep. Good night, ladies,” he said. “Sleep well and rest easy. You are safe here.”
Sally and Suzy looked up. Suzy nodded but said nothing.
Anna watched her father leave, wondering for the hundredth time when he was going to give in and propose marriage to Mrs. Brickman. The housekeeper, who had come to take care of the house upon the death of Anna’s mother, had voluntarily taken it upon herself to stand in as a surrogate mother when she discovered that Anna was motherless.
Anna would feel greatly comforted knowing her father was comfortably settled with a wife if she, Anna, married and left home. That prospect, however, seemed distant at the moment.
“Sally, Suzy,” she began in a hushed voice so as not to wake the baby. “Did the conductor ever tell you his name?”
“No, ma’am,” Sally replied.
“Oh!” Anna said. “Did he keep his scarf over his face the whole time? I have never seen a conductor show up with a mask before.”
This time Suzy answered. “No, ma’am. Think he wanted to, but he had to pull it down to eat.”
“What does he look like?” She looked up to see Suzy and Sally exchange looks.
“Can’t rightly say, Miss Anna. Just like a white man. Dark hair, not light colored like Sally’s baby’s daddy.”
Anna, who had been gazing at the baby, looked up sharply.
“Don’t go speaking like that, Suzy,” Sally hissed. “That’s my business.”
“
I am so sorry you were assaulted, Sally,” Anna said. “I truly am. Was it someone in the house where you lived?”
“Weren’t no attack, miss,” Sally said in a gruff voice. “Was master’s son. He loved me, and I loved him.”
“You just a dumb girl, Sally. Don’t no master’s son love a plantation slave. We worked in the fields, not in no house, Miss Anna.”
“He did too,” Sally protested, her voice hoarse.
“Right up until mistress saw that light-colored baby of yours.” Suzy turned to Anna. “When mistress saw the baby, she screamed she was gonna kill it. I don’t rightly think she woulda killed the baby, but she might have sold her off to whoever wanted her. That’s why I grabbed Sally and the baby, and we ran.”
Anna dropped her eyes to the baby. So precious, so beautiful. Anna didn’t know if the son of the house loved Sally or not, but there could have been no future for them, not in the South.
“I am so sorry, Sally. I hope for a better future for you and your daughter. You too, Suzy. Maybe when you get to Canada, you will meet some nice men and marry.” Anna offered them a hopeful smile.
Suzy looked dubious. “I jes’ be happy if we could get a roof over our heads, food and water.”
“You will,” Anna said. “You will be all right. I know it!”
Chapter 2
Anna awakened early the next morning, more excited about their current guests than was usual. While she always appreciated having someone to take care of, she especially loved that there was a baby in the house.
She dressed quickly in a dark-gray muslin dress and made her way down to the kitchen to see if she could help Mrs. Brickman with cooking.
“No, thank you, dear. I have everything ready to go. I am just going to take this tray up to the girls, and I will return to set out some food for you. Your father has already gone down to the store.”
By “going down to the store,” Mrs. Brickman meant Mr. Douglas had walked the two miles into Anamosa to open up the mercantile he had purchased when Anna was just a baby.
A knock on the door startled her, and she stilled. Normally, visitors to the house were welcome and not uncommon. Her father was a well-liked man, and in addition to running the mercantile, he had begun a local newspaper some years ago.
But on the occasions when they had “guests,” visitors were not a happy occurrence. Additionally, it was very early in the morning for anyone to come calling.
“Take the tray upstairs, Mrs. Brickman, and tell our guests to remain quiet and still. I will see who it is.”
Anna watched as Mrs. Brickman retreated to the attic, and she closed the door behind the housekeeper. Another series of knocks jarred her nerves.
She hurried to the front door and pulled it open.
Three men stood there, strangers. Two more sat on horses and held the horses of the three on the porch.
Anna’s stomach lurched, and cold dread ran down her back. She forced a civil smile on her face.
“Yes, can I help you?”
“We’re from down Missouri way,” one of them spoke. Tall and stocky, his unkempt red hair settled on his shoulders. A dark well-worn jacket over a soiled white shirt and dusty gray trousers completed his ensemble. The rest of the men dressed similarly. All looked as if they had been traveling fast and hard.
Anna’s throat closed, and she feared she would not be able to speak.
“We’re looking for some fugitive slaves. Two women and a baby,” the redhead said. “Wondering if you might have seen them? Heard anything about them?”
Slave catchers! She knew they existed, had heard tales of them, but had never encountered any nor had any come to the house. She stiffened her back, though her knees trembled.
She gritted her teeth. “I cannot imagine why you would come here looking for runaway slaves,” she said evenly. “We do not hold with slavery in this household. Therefore, we do not have slaves, not even those who have escaped.”
Anna bit her tongue and wished she had just given them a simple no. The slave catchers, however, did not anger as she thought they might.
Two of them laughed.
“We know what some of you folks think of us, but those slaves are property, and the law says we can take them back.” The leader of the gang smiled, but the steely gaze in his blue eyes belied the smile.
Anna bit back a retort, desperately wishing that her father were present.
“Well, as I said, there are no slaves here. Why do you think there are slaves in Anamosa?”
“We got our reasons,” the redhead said. He peered beyond her as if to see inside the house.
“You live alone here, miss?”
Anna’s heart raced. She eyed the rifle by the door.
“No, I live with my father. He is not at home right now.”
“Any servants?”
“A housekeeper, Mrs. Brickman. She has gone down to the market in Anamosa.”
“No one else at home?”
The two men on the porch shuffled their feet as if uncomfortable with the tone of the conversation.
Anna reached for the rifle and slung it into her arms, aiming it at the feet of all three men.
“If that is all, gentlemen, you will have to excuse me,” she said coldly.
The two men backed up, and the redhead threw up his hands as if in mock surrender.
“Okay, okay, now, miss. Take it easy. We will be on our way. No need to brandish your rifle at us.”
Anna raised her aim to his shins.
“We’re going! We’re going!” one of the men barked as the two companions hopped off the porch and climbed onto their horses.
The redhead followed, albeit at a more leisurely pace. He obviously did not think she would shoot him.
“If you are hiding fugitive slaves here, miss, we’re going to find them,” he said. “Good day,” he added as he mounted his horse. He tipped his broad-brimmed hat and trotted down the lane past the cornfields that her father leased out to their neighbor.
Anna set the rifle down in the corner with a shaking hand, shut the door and locked it before running to the kitchen and up into the attic. She arrived at the landing, breathless.
Mrs. Brickman, who had been sitting in the rocking chair and holding sleeping Sara while Sally and Suzy ate, rose.
“Good morning, ladies,” Anna said as evenly as possible. “Do not be alarmed. It was no one of importance.” She eyed the housekeeper pointedly, who nodded and set the baby down on one of the mattresses.
“Finish your breakfast, ladies, and rest. We will return shortly.”
Anna gave them a reassuring smile and turned to descend the stairs with Mrs. Brickman bringing up the rear. Once in the kitchen, Anna closed the door and pressed her back against it.
“Slave catchers,” she muttered. “Five of them. Five men to chase two small women and a baby,” she said, tears of fear and hate falling down her cheeks.
Mrs. Brickman stiffened and looked as horrified as Anna felt.
“We have to tell your father at once. The bundles will have to be moved as soon as possible.”
Anna shook her head.
“I do not know what the slave catchers will do. It seems likely that the women might be caught if they are moved at present. Father will know what is best.”
“Why did they come to this house?” Mrs. Brickman asked. “What led them here? Are we exposed?”
“The leader of the gang, a big, burly redheaded man, would not say, simply that they had their reasons.”
“I worry for your safety and for that of your father. I think he must cease and desist participating in the railroad.”
Anna, already heartsick, protested.
“No, never! As long as I have breath in my body, Mrs. Brickman, I will never stop! I am certain my father feels the same way. You know him as well as I.”
The housekeeper’s cheeks colored, an unusual event for the normally impassive woman.
“Nonsense!” she said. “Nevertheless, your father has become comp
lacent in his activities with the railroad. This is a terrible reminder that helping escaped slaves is fraught with danger and that we are not immune to those who would stop at nothing to prevent us from doing so.”
“The slave catchers can do me no harm, Mrs. Brickman. I am not afraid of them,” Anna said defiantly. It was a blatant lie. The redheaded man had scared her. And the slave catchers could make trouble for them with the law.
“You should be afraid, Anna. The Fugitive Slave Law of 1850 stipulates that any person aiding a runaway slave is subject to six months imprisonment and a one-thousand-dollar fine.”
“I know the law very well, Mrs. Brickman. I have helped father write copious articles against it for the newspaper. Yes, I know the law very well,” she repeated in a tone of disgust.
“You need to go at once and take the news to your father, Anna. I will care for our guests.”
Anna nodded. “The rifle is by the front door. Do not be afraid to use it.”
Mrs. Brickman grimaced. “I would as soon clock someone over the head with it as shoot.”
Anna hesitated but could not withhold pertinent information.
“The leader of the group, the redhead,” she began. “He was particularly loathsome, overly familiar, such that I drew the rifle upon the lot of them.”
Mrs. Brickman’s eyes widened.
“I should have gone to the door with you,” she said with a determined blue gaze.
“We did not know, Mrs. Brickman.”
“But I would have known if I had looked outside the window,” she muttered darkly.
“It was more important that you go upstairs to settle our guests, to keep them quiet.”
She nodded. “Yes, go now, Anna. And be careful!”
Anna nodded. She grabbed her dark-blue cape and matching bonnet from the hooks by the front door and ran out the back door and to the barn, where she hitched Blackie, their horse, to the small buckboard wagon. She always drove into town to pick her father up in the wagon if he walked down to the store in the morning, given that he was often tired with aching legs at the end of the day and welcomed a ride home.
“Oh, Blackie, I do not know what is going to happen,” Anna said as she attached the harness to the little horse. “I only wish the slave catchers would move on as quickly as possible.”
