by Aileen Fish
Mr. O’Reilly, hardly concerned about her outburst, nodded with a smile and turned for the door. With his hand on the knob, he stopped and spoke.
“We’ll be staying in town for a few days, keeping an eye open for anything unusual, any kind of movement. We’ll be keeping an eye on your house too. If you’re hiding runaway slaves, we’re going to know about it. That’s a jail sentence...for both of you.”
He opened the door and left, his companion following him out.
Anna sagged, fear, rage and anxiety weakening her legs, and she leaned against the counter. Her father wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“Oh, my poor girl. What a reckless display of temper!” he said. “I do not blame you, but I worry we have only exacerbated their suspicions.”
Anna drew in a deep breath and straightened.
“What are we to do in the absence of Mr. Hanshaw?” she said. “How can we move them if the slave catchers are watching the house? How can we not?”
“I do not know at the moment, my dear. I do not know. I only know of Mr. Hanshaw.”
Anna thought quickly, the image of a tall man dressed in black never far from her mind since last night.
“What about the conductor who brought them here? The tall man with the mask?”
“I do not know who he is. He said himself that he was new. You will remember that he gave us no name.”
Anna sighed. That was true.
“I will take them to Dubuque myself, Father. You cannot do it. The slave catchers will be watching you, not me. No one will suspect a young woman of transporting people.”
“Impossible!” her father cried out. “Absolutely not! No! I cannot even imagine such a thing!”
“But someone has to take them to safety!”
Her father appeared to think. “There are abolition sympathizers in town, I know, but I cannot think of a single one who would be willing to undertake such a journey or who would knowingly endanger themselves or break the law.”
“Then I must do it, Father. I know the way to Dubuque. Remember we took that unfortunate young man to the stationmaster there two years ago. You need only remind me of directions, and the deed is done!”
Her father shook his head. “No, Anna. It is quite impossible. I cannot allow it.”
“There really is no alternative, Father. You know that. Suzy, Sally and Baby Sara cannot be recaptured. I will not allow it.” Tears of frustration sprang to her eyes.
Her father patted her hand even as he shook his head. He seemed to war with himself.
“I regret my words even as I speak them, Anna, even as I speak them...but I will allow it.” He raised a staying hand as she gasped. “Only, however, if Mrs. Brickman consents to accompany you.”
“Mrs. Brickman! Oh, Father, do you think she will consent? She is not a young woman. The journey might be arduous for her.”
“I am sure she will consent, my dear. She loves you as much as I, and she would probably not allow you to travel on your own at any rate.” He smiled with affection. “I deeply regret that I cannot do this, but you are right, Anna,” he continued. “It appears likely they will watch me like hawks do their prey. Additionally, Mr. O’Reilly said they would watch the house. I think it best you move the women at dusk. I will stay here at the store and advertise my presence with as much lighting as possible and an open door. That way, they may think if they have an eye on me, nothing is occurring near the house which might be of interest to them.
“You know that it will take you two days to reach Dubuque, perhaps a bit longer, as you will be carrying four people and a baby. Blackie must rest, or he will be spent before journey’s end. You will remember the stationmaster, Mr. Carter, who owns the River Inn there. I will write down the directions. Memorize them and then destroy the paper.” Her father wrote on a piece of paper and handed it to her.
“Yes, I remember now,” Anna said, perusing the notes. “Thank you.”
She shrugged into her cape, and in deference to her father, put on her bonnet.
“I will go now, Father. There is much to do in preparation for the journey, and Mrs. Brickman will be most surprised at my request that she accompany me. I hope that she will agree, but it may take some coaxing.”
“I know Mrs. Brickman. She will consent.” Her father’s blue eyes shone with moisture, and she reached up to kiss him on the cheek.
“Do not worry, Father. Mrs. Brickman and I will be back within the week, safe and sound. And then perhaps you will consider offering her a proposal of marriage.”
“Anna!” her father protested.
“Nonsense, Father. It is high time. You fool no one, either of you.”
“We shall discuss this at another time,” he said, attempting to sound severe. “Go now before I change my mind.”
Anna left the store and scanned the street before climbing into the wagon and turning it for home. Although she wanted to race back to the house, she knew Blackie had a long journey ahead of him, and she kept him to a walk. It was only noon, and they had some hours before darkness fell.
Chapter 4
The drive home seemed extraordinarily long, and Anna spent much of it looking over her shoulders or scanning the newly planted cornfields for signs of riders. The hairs on the back of her neck rose in anticipation of another encounter with Mr. O’Reilly and his gang of ruffians, and she longed for the security of Mr. Damon’s presence, even as highhanded as he had been. Neither party appeared, and Anna made it back to the house without encountering anyone.
Upon her arrival, Anna unhitched Blackie and led him into the barn to feed and water him. She patted his neck and urged him to rest for the long journey ahead. Forcing herself to walk sedately into the house in case Mr. O’Reilly or one of his men watched, Anna heard and saw nothing unusual on the property surrounding their home.
Mrs. Brickman hurried to the door as she entered.
“What did your father say?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“We are to move Suzy, Sally and the baby tonight,” Anna replied.
Mrs. Brickman nodded. “I agree that is best. But you mean to say that a conductor will move them.”
Anna shook her head. “The loathsome slave catchers came into the store while I was there. They accused Father of harboring fugitive slaves and said there were rumors that he participated in the Underground Railroad.”
Mrs. Brickman put a hand to her mouth.
“Mr. Hanshaw, the conductor, is out of town. He has gone to Dubuque with the mail and will not return for several days. Father cannot take our guests.
“They said they would be watching him,” Anna continued. “I convinced Father to let me take the women to Dubuque to the next stationmaster.”
“Absurd!” Mrs. Brickman said. “That is impossible!”
Anna had known there would be a battle with the housekeeper.
“After many negotiations, Father allowed it, Mrs. Brickman.” Anna paused. “On the condition that you accompany me.”
Mrs. Brickman’s blue eyes widened then narrowed as she drew her brows together. She appeared to consider the matter. Anna held her breath.
When Mrs. Brickman’s face settled into a wry smile, Anna knew she would consent.
“Your father is impossible!” she said. “Yes, of course he would set that condition if he dared consider his only daughter transporting escaped slaves. I trust you know the way?”
Anna grinned and hugged Mrs. Brickman, who patted her on the back.
“I do. You will remember that Father and I took a young man there two years ago when Mr. Hanshaw was ill and could not make the journey.”
“Your father must be chafing at allowing you to do this, but I understand the reasoning. They will most certainly be watching him more than they will you or I. They would never suspect that two women would transport escaped slaves.
“Come then, let us prepare,” she said briskly. “Go upstairs and tell the ladies what our plans are. I will prepare food for the journey. How many days will
the journey take?”
Mrs. Brickman had been to Dubuque before, as had Anna and her father, but they normally took the train—an ironic impossibility this time given the name of the system that transported escaped slaves.
“Two days at a minimum to Dubuque, perhaps longer, depending on the needs of the women and Blackie’s stamina.”
Mrs. Brickman nodded, and Anna climbed the stairs to the attic. Suzy sat at the darkly curtained window, peeking out, while Sally and Sara slept.
Anna tiptoed in and took a chair beside Suzy. Likely in her midtwenties, Suzy had very close-cropped hair. She had not yet changed into the clothing that Anna had provided. Nor had Sally, from what Anna could see under the blanket.
“Did the dresses I provided not fit?” Anna whispered so as not to awaken Sally or Sara.
Suzy shook her head. “Miss, we can’t wear such fine dresses with those hoops and such. We’re slaves, not mistresses.”
Anna sighed. “I think I understand,” she said. “But when you are free, completely free and living in Canada, perhaps you will wear such dresses.”
“Maybe then,” Suzy said. “I can’t rightly imagine such a thing.”
“I am glad to see you are wearing the shawl at least.”
Suzy did wear a thick brown shawl around her shoulders, one of two that Anna had provided, leaving herself with one. She was reminded the women would at least need capes or cloaks on the journey and plenty of blankets. She had three cloaks—her favorite dark-blue one she had worn that day. She would give Suzie and Sally the other two. The temperatures would be colder in the north than they were used to in the south.
“Suzy,” Anna began hesitantly. “Something has come up. I cannot avoid alarming you, but I want you to know that we are determined to keep you safe, no matter what.”
Suzy’s eyes rounded.
“They’re here,” she muttered. “That’s who came this morning.”
Anna nodded. “Yes, slave catchers have come to the neighborhood. They are looking for you particularly, but they are so vile that they will abscond with anyone, freed or slave. My father and I think it best to move you up the line to the next station, which is Dubuque. Tonight.”
Suzy clutched the shawl tightly about her and turned to look at her sister.
“We’ve come so far,” she whispered.
“Yes, you have,” Anna said. “The hardest part is behind you. You will reach Canada safely. The further north you get, the safer you will be.”
Suzy turned back to look at Anna.
“I’m scared, Miss Anna. I’m so scared.”
Anna grabbed Suzy’s hand and gripped it tightly. “Everything is going to be all right, Suzy. I’m taking the rifle, and I will shoot any man who tries to stop us from getting away.”
Suzy nodded.
Anna let go of her hand and stood. “I’m going to go downstairs and help Mrs. Brickman with preparations.”
“When’s the conductor coming?” Suzy asked.
Anna shook her head. “He is out of town right now. I am taking you, Mrs. Brickman and I. We leave just after dark.”
“You!” Suzy’s dark eyes stared at Anna with dubious alarm.
“I know that idea must seem frightening to you, Suzy, but the slave catchers are watching my father. They believe he is working for the Underground Railroad, and that he is harboring you. They will not be watching me.”
“I trust you, Miss Anna,” she said. “I don’t have no other choice.”
“Thank you, Suzy. I know it cannot be easy. If possible, rest for a while. We will probably have an early supper and then be on our way. Gather as many blankets as you can. We will need them to hide you in the back of the wagon.”
Suzy nodded.
Anna returned downstairs and helped Mrs. Brickman with preparations for food and water. She then went to her room on the second floor to throw a few things into a carpetbag. She pulled her two spare cloaks from her wardrobe and carried the lot down to the kitchen. As Mrs. Brickman cooked supper, Anna went outside, ostensibly to stroll around the grounds but in reality to determine whether Mr. O’Reilly or members of his gang were present—watching and waiting.
She saw no one, detected no movements, heard no whinnies from horses. She returned to the house feeling more at ease.
“I do not see anything or anyone suspicious on the property,” she told Mrs. Brickman. “Perhaps Mr. O’Reilly was bluffing about watching the house.”
“Let us hope so,” Mrs. Brickman said. “Here, take your plate. I’ll take Suzy and Sally’s food upstairs and then join you.”
Anna sat down at the kitchen table with her dinner, something she often did if her father worked late at the store or newspaper. They only used the dining room when he was at home.
She hated to admit it even to herself, but she was terrified—terrified the slave catchers would discover them, terrified the wagon would break down or Blackie go lame, terrified that she could not protect the women and the baby as she had promised. She toyed with her food and sought courage.
Anna wished she and her father had managed to acquire the name of the conductor who brought Suzy, Sally and the baby to the house. Something about his mysterious appearance had fascinated her, and she knew that he could be counted on to see the women on to safety. But they had no idea who the man was nor how to contact him. That he was an abolitionist warmed her heart. She knew she could only ever love a man who felt as she did.
What good fortune it would have been if their new neighbor, Mr. Damon, a stalwart figure who appeared to fear little, had been an avowed abolitionist. She could have sought help from him. She doubted he would be swayed by fears of legalities or public censure or by the slave catchers themselves.
Mr. Damon had been on her mind a great deal since their encounter that morning. His concern for her well-being, both on the road and in her father’s store, had moved her quite unexpectedly. Well, moved her and angered her given his high-handed lecture to her father.
She hoped she would see him again upon her return. It seemed likely. He was their neighbor, after all, was he not?
Mrs. Brickman returned and sat down to her own supper. They ate in silence, each no doubt imagining the upcoming journey.
Mrs. Brickman took hold of Anna’s hand at one point and squeezed it gently before releasing it. Anna welcomed her reassurance and the realization that Mrs. Brickman knew her so well, she divined Anna’s unspoken fears.
They washed dishes in silence and watched as dusk descended on Jones County.
“It is time for me to go out and harness Blackie up to the wagon,” Anna said, trying to ignore the knot in the pit of her stomach. Fear was only natural, and it must be survived.
“Yes,” Mrs. Brickman said. She doused the kitchen lights and carried a candle up the stairs. Anna opened the back door and went out to the barn. As she harnessed Blackie and hitched him to the wagon, she stopped occasionally to scan the area and listen for unusual noises, but she saw and heard nothing.
She returned to the house, grabbed a candle and picked up the spare cloaks before climbing the stairs.
Suzy, Sally and Sara were ready. Suzy carried a stack of blankets in her hand.
“Here, put these cloaks on. It is chilly tonight.”
Mrs. Brickman and Anna helped them into the cloaks, and Anna looked down at the pile of clothing she had brought up the night before. She searched the attic, lit only by the two candles Mrs. Brickman and Anna carried. An old sack bag lay in a corner, and she scooped up the dresses and thrust them inside.
“Because you will need them,” she said with a reassuring smile in Suzy’s direction. Suzy tried to smile but failed. Sally clutched a thankfully sleeping Sara. To attempt to escape in the darkness with a crying infant was something Anna had considered but hoped would not come to pass.
They descended the stairs, and Mrs. Brickman donned her cloak and bonnet. She picked up a bag she must have packed for herself sometime that afternoon. Anna went to retrieve the rifle from th
e front door. She then returned to the kitchen to search for extra bullets for the gun. Mrs. Brickman, anticipating Anna’s needs, showed her a box of bullets packed into the hamper. Anna nodded with a smile.
She slipped into her outerwear, grabbed her carpetbag and picked up the hamper Mrs. Brickman had prepared. She then led the way out the back door to the barn, where Blackie and the wagon awaited them.
She thought she heard something once, and she put up her hand to stop the procession. The sound came from a slight breeze that blew the new leaves in a nearby oak tree. The moon was half-full, providing a modicum of light but not much.
“Come,” she whispered. She stowed the rifle by the seat of the wagon before climbing into the back, where she spread out some of the blankets for comfort. Mrs. Brickman then guided the women toward the rear of the wagon, and Anna took their hands to pull them up.
“Lay down and remain silent. I must cover you with some of the blankets,” she said. “They will keep you warm and help avoid detection. It is best if you lay on your sides so that you can breathe properly. Thank goodness the baby sleeps.”
Suzy and Sally lay down with Sara between them. Anna covered them up loosely while Mrs. Brickman climbed into the front of the wagon. Anna followed, taking the reins, as Mrs. Brickman was not particularly fond of horses, neither riding them nor driving them.
Instead of calling out to Blackie as she usually did, Anna clicked her tongue and shook the reins. Blackie moved easily, and they rounded the front of the house and proceeded down the lane.
Anna had only driven the wagon at night once before, when she and her father had transported the escaped slave to Dubuque. That had been several years ago, but the memory came back quite clearly as they moved along.
They reached the main road without incident. Anna remembered that her father circumvented the main thoroughfare of Anamosa by traveling various smaller lanes, and she hoped she could remember which ones he had used. His directions had included a circuitous route to the River Inn in Dubuque but not to leave Anamosa. She had burned his written instructions in the flames of the kitchen stove.
