To Love a Spy

by Aileen Fish

  The sound of horses’ hooves made her jerk on Blackie’s reins, and she gasped. Passing the reins to Mrs. Brickman, she grabbed the rifle and aimed it toward the darkness.

  Shaking with fear, she almost fired when a white face appeared. Clothed completely in black with a dark broad-brimmed hat slung low over his head, Mr. Damon sat astride his black stallion.

  “Hold up there, Miss Douglas. Please do not shoot,” he said in a low voice that suggested he did not fear any such thing.

  “Mr. Damon! You frightened us!” Anna thought quickly. “Mrs. Brickman and I are just on our way to pick father up from the store. I had to return home earlier, and he could not leave with me.”

  Mr. Damon dismounted from his horse and approached the wagon. He paused to rub Blackie’s nose before coming around the front of the wagon to look up at Anna.

  “I know what you are doing,” he said. “But I cannot allow this, not without a male escort.”

  “Mr. Damon,” Mrs. Brickman interceded. “I beg your pardon, but I do not know what entitles you to speak to Miss Douglas in such a proprietary tone. You ‘cannot allow?’ What is it you think you cannot allow?”

  Anna turned to Mrs. Brickman.

  “He knows, Mrs. Brickman. He knows. He was there when the slave catchers came into the store. There is no sense in prevaricating. He knows what we are about.”

  “Thank you, Miss Douglas. Yes, I do know what you are about, and I know how best to get you to Dubuque without detection.”

  They heard the faint cry of the baby in the back of the wagon.

  Anna drew in a sharp breath and looked wildly at Mr. Damon.

  “Come, we must go before the infant decides to exercise her lungs to the fullest extent possible. Follow me.”

  While he mounted his horse, Anna leaned over and lifted a corner of the blanket.

  “There is nothing to fear, ladies. All is well. We have a new companion, that is all.”

  “Yes, miss,” Suzy said. “Sally’s feeding the baby now, so she’ll be quiet.”

  Anna nodded and lowered the blanket. She pulled out onto the lane after Mr. Damon. Blackie seemed to follow the larger stallion obediently, and Anna had little to do but hold the reins lightly.

  “Mr. Damon is the man who leases your father’s fields, is he not?” Mrs. Brickman kept her voice low. “The one who bought the farm next door about six months ago?”

  Anna nodded, admiring his tall, straight back.

  “Yes. He saw me this morning and escorted me into town. For some reason, I told him about the slave catchers, and he rather overbearingly lectured Father on the imprudence of publishing his abolitionist views so blatantly in his newspaper.”

  “Oh, I am certain that did not please your father.”

  “Father seemed to take his words of warning to heart, Mrs. Brickman, but I told Father that I will never give up trying to help these poor people to freedom. Never!”

  “No, I do not imagine that you will,” she said with a sigh. “You have grown up with your father’s causes.”

  “It is a right and just cause, Mrs. Brickman. You know that.”

  “Yes, I agree, my dear, but I do wonder when and where you will find a man to marry given that he must in some way share your ideals. I imagine he must at a minimum involve himself in the Underground Railroad. The few men we have met so far who do so have been married or much too old for you.”

  “Marriage,” Anna murmured. “I cannot imagine such a thing. You are right. The only bachelor men who might share my beliefs are few and far between.” She paused. “The last conductor was a very interesting man. You did not see him, but he wore a mask over his face. Quite mysterious.”

  Mrs. Brickman snorted. “A mask? He sounds more like a ruffian than a concerned abolitionist.”

  Mr. Damon looked over his shoulder toward them, and Anna hoped he had not heard their conversation, both because she would have been embarrassed and because it meant that she and Mrs. Brickman had been speaking much too loudly for the stealth of their mission.

  He slowed his horse and leaned down to speak to Anna as she came up alongside him.

  “We turn off the main road soon. It would be wise if you and Mrs. Brickman could lower your voices so that the entire town does not hear of your marital aspirations.”

  At Anna’s gasp, he smiled briefly, straightened in the saddle and rode ahead.

  “Well, of all the nerve!” she sputtered, albeit in a whisper.

  “My goodness, he certainly has excellent hearing,” Mrs. Brickman said, also in a whisper. “We were not speaking very loudly. His hearing will stand us in good stead,” she said.

  “He is insufferable,” Anna fumed. “Arrogant.”

  “But very helpful,” Mrs. Brickman said with a smile.

  Mr. Damon led them off the main road and onto a lane toward the right. For the next twenty minutes, they followed him down dark and quiet paths as they skirted the town. Anna recognized the course they followed as the same one her father had driven two years before.

  They soon merged onto the main road toward Dubuque without incident, and Anna breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed likely they had fooled the slave catchers after all.

  Anna almost shrieked when Mr. Damon suddenly jerked at his horse’s reins and turned the horse toward them. He bent down and whispered to her.

  “Take the wagon into those trees as fast as you can!” He pointed to a copse of trees in a field to the left. “Remain silent. I hear hooves, riding fast.” His face was grim. “I will lead them away from you and return when I can. Wait for me. Go now!” He tapped Blackie on the rump with his hand, and Blackie started forward in a trot.

  Anna looked over her shoulder to see Mr. Damon racing away toward Dubuque on his stallion.

  Chapter 5

  Anna turned Blackie off the road and ran the wagon through a field of grass and into the thicket of trees. She pulled up short and leaned over to speak to Suzy and Sally.

  “I hope that was not too bumpy for you, ladies,” Anna whispered. “We are to hide out for a bit. Try to remain calm.”

  “Yes, Miss Anna,” Suzy whispered. The baby whimpered, and Anna could hear Sally cooing to her. Sara soon settled down.

  Anna climbed down from the wagon and went to Blackie’s head to calm him. In the silence, she heard the thunderous sounds of hooves coming as if from Anamosa, and she whispered soothing words into Blackie’s ears.

  The horses grew closer still, and Anna began to shake. She looked toward Mrs. Brickman, who had dropped onto her knees on the buckboard and crouched.

  As the horses passed, Anna thought she saw five riders, but given the darkness, it was hard to tell. They passed on, turning neither to the left nor the right, and Anna thanked Mr. Damon’s excellent hearing, for the riders would have been upon them had he not warned her.

  She gave Blackie’s head one last pat and returned to the wagon to climb in.

  “We must wait here for Mr. Damon. I do not know how long.”

  Mrs. Brickman, who had returned to her seat, nodded.

  “He will return for us. I have no fear of that.”

  “You seem confident in a man you only just met, Mrs. Brickman,” Anna said with a faint smile.

  “He exudes competency and intelligence, my dear. Rare qualities. I wonder if he is married.”

  Anna, her heart still pounding with fear, almost choked.

  “Mrs. Brickman, do not tease. How can you think of marriage at a time like this?”

  “I think he must not be married,” she continued on, “or he would have had to let his wife know that he was embarking on a journey.”

  “Perhaps he did,” Anna murmured.

  “Perhaps,” Mrs. Brickman said.

  “I think it safe to let Suzy and Sally out of the wagon to stretch their legs and take some water. It might be hours before Mr. Damon returns,” Anna said briskly.

  “Yes, you are probably right,” Mrs. Brickman said. They descended from the wagon and helped the women d
own, fetching them a cup of water and some biscuits.

  “We do not know how long it will be before we have an opportunity to stop again,” Anna whispered, “so eat something now and relieve yourselves.”

  Sally held out the baby with a shy smile, and Anna scooped the delight into her arms. She coddled the infant while Sally and Suzy headed further into the trees.

  “You seem to have such a fondness for that baby, Anna,” Mrs. Brickman said with a smile.

  “She is so precious, is she not? And to think. It is possible...no, I won’t say possible. I say it is almost certain that she will grow up a free woman! My heart swells with the thought of it.”

  “It is an extraordinary thought, is it not?” Mrs. Brickman said.

  Anna smiled down at the baby, who appeared to be asleep. Sally and Suzy returned and refreshed themselves.

  The sound of horses’ hooves caught Anna’s ears, and she stiffened. She was no expert, but she thought there was more than one horse, and they did not pound the ground as hard as before. Had Mr. Damon’s ruse failed? Were the slave catchers returning to scout out the countryside for a wagon carrying two women and a baby?

  “Quickly,” she whispered. “Get into the wagon.” She waited until Sally and Suzy climbed in and then handed the baby to Sally. Anna and Mrs. Brickman covered them with the blanket, and Anna went to Blackie’s head again while Mrs. Brickman grabbed the rifle.

  Slowly, inexorably, the horses neared, and Anna thought her heart must burst with fear. Her hands and legs shook, and she half leaned on Blackie for support.

  Under the faint light of the moon, she could now see the occasional gleam of metal in the horses’ harnesses. She counted five shapes now—riders on horses. They came abreast of where the wagon was hidden but did not slow. They continued on, trotting back down the road toward Anamosa.

  Once they were out of earshot, Anna gave in to her weak knees and slumped in a heap at Blackie’s feet.

  Mrs. Brickman, looking no steadier herself, came to Anna’s side and settled down in a billow of skirts, the rifle across her lap.

  “This will no doubt prove to be the most terrifying night of my life,” Anna whispered. “What do you think happened? I am certain that was Mr. O’Reilly and his group, though I could not see their faces.”

  “Yes, I think you are right, Anna. I cannot hazard a guess as to what happened, but I hope that Mr. Damon has come to no harm.”

  Anna had not thought of that. The idea that the slave catchers had caught up to Mr. Damon, and discovering his ruse, either injured or killed him in anger or revenge, appalled her. Her throat tightened.

  “Oh, my goodness, no!” she whispered hoarsely. “Oh, please, no.” She listened intently, as if she could will Mr. Damon’s return by doing so.

  “Do not fret, Anna. I should have kept silent.”

  “No, never do that, Mrs. Brickman.” Anna shook her head. “You and I must be able to speak freely to one another, now more than ever. We undertake this journey together and share in its inherent dangers and fears.” She took Mrs. Brickman’s hand in her own.

  “Yes, my dear, you are right,” Mrs. Brickman said.

  Anna heard a sound, as if the movement of grass, but the night air had grown still as the breeze died away. She put her finger to her lips, took the rifle from Mrs. Brickman’s lap and rose slowly to her feet, aiming it in the direction of the sound.

  “Again you point that thing at me, Miss Douglas. I fear I will not survive this journey, and it will not be due to the slave catchers.”

  Anna let out a small cry and dropped the nose of the rifle to the ground.

  “Mr. Damon,” she scolded angrily. “I have no intention of shooting you, but must you always sneak up in the darkness?”

  “I would not if it were not dark at night, Miss Douglas. Is all well here? The women? The infant?”

  “Yes, we are well, thank you. We had quite a scare when Mr. O’Reilly and his gang passed,” Mrs. Brickman said. “And when they returned. What happened?”

  “I led them some miles down the road,” Mr. Damon said, accepting a cup of water from Mrs. Brickman. “I debated on letting them ‘capture me,’ since I had nothing to hide and doubted their ability to restrain me, but I opted to elude them and deny them an additional target for their rumor mongering and badgering of good folk. It would not have been long before they discovered I am a neighbor of Mr. Douglas. They could easily have deduced what we were about this night, perhaps not in time to prevent transport of the women and infant to Dubuque, but to hinder any future activities by your father on the railroad.”

  Anna thought she could have happily kissed Mr. Damon’s cheek, a notion that surprised her as much as it shocked her.

  She turned away hastily.

  “We should go,” she said. She stowed the rifle in the front of the wagon and climbed in. Mr. Damon gave Mrs. Brickman his cup, helped her into the wagon and returned to his horse.

  He led the way out of the copse and back onto the road. Quite soon, he turned off the main road again and led them along a narrow lane parallel to the main road but separated by trees that bordered a stream. Anna remembered her father had taken this route as well.

  They rode slowly through the night, Mr. Damon clearly taking into consideration Blackie’s smaller frame and the weight he pulled. She assumed the women in the back had fallen asleep, as had Mrs. Brickman, who slumped against Anna’s shoulder. To see the indomitable and untiring housekeeper so weary lent her a vulnerability that Anna had not witnessed before.

  She accommodated Mrs. Brickman’s bonneted head and held the reins lightly as Blackie followed the stallion. As the sky lightened from dark purple to soft lavender, Anna was better able to see their path and Mr. Damon’s back.

  He held up his hand, indicating she should stop, and she pulled on the reins, though hardly necessary as Blackie had already come to a standstill behind the stallion. Mr. Damon dismounted and led his horse toward them. He came to stand beside Anna, glancing at Mrs. Brickman with a faint smile.

  “You must rest, Miss Douglas. Your horse must rest. We will camp here for the day. We are well hidden from the main road by the trees to our left. One would need to know this path was here to discover us.”

  Mr. Damon’s voice held a kind note, and his blue eyes regarded her with compassion. Anna was momentarily disoriented by the softening of his expression.

  Mrs. Brickman straightened and rubbed her eyes at the sound of Mr. Damon’s voice.

  Mr. Damon tied his horse to the wagon and raised his arms to help Anna alight. She took his hands and climbed down, and Mr. Damon helped Mrs. Brickman.

  Anna went around to the side of the wagon and peeked under the blanket. Suzy and Sally slept, as did the baby.

  “We will not disturb them,” she said in a whisper. “They can take some refreshment before we leave.”

  “Take some blankets and make yourselves a bed over there,” Mr. Damon instructed. He nodded toward a soft patch of green grass below one of the trees. “I will stand watch.”

  “But, Mr. Damon! You need rest too,” Anna said.

  “I will rest when we reach Dubuque,” he said. “I am not a stranger to a deficiency of sleep.”

  Anna eyed him. Indeed, he did not look at all tired. She knew herself to be exhausted, but she wondered how she could sleep.

  She and Mrs. Brickman took the extra blankets from the back of the wagon and made themselves a nest. Anna closed her eyes and fell asleep instantly.

  ~*~

  She was awakened sometime later by the sound of muted voices. She raised her head and saw Suzy and Sally sitting cross-legged at the base of a tree, talking to Mr. Damon, who sat beside them. He held Sara in his arms while Sally ate a sandwich. Mrs. Brickman, seated near them, albeit at some small distance given the bulk of her skirts, dove a hand into the hamper and withdrew a cookie, which she handed to Mr. Damon. He held it for the baby, who nibbled on the edge.

  Anna blinked at the soft smile on Mr. Damon’s fac
e, and her heart thumped loudly in her chest. Suzy and Sally seemed very comfortable in his presence, and she wondered at that. She herself was never quite at ease with Mr. Damon. She did not know him, and he seemed a bit mercurial—one moment stern and autocratic and the next gentle and kind. Which reflected his true nature? Or was he a mixture of both? She could not decide.

  She raised herself on one elbow, noting that the sun now appeared to be low in the west. Dusk was imminent. It seemed she had slept all day. She could only guess, as she had forgotten the watch she normally wore pinned to her dress.

  Mr. Damon caught her eye and said something to Mrs. Brickman, who turned her head and smiled. She beckoned for Anna to join them.

  Anna pushed aside her blanket to stand and stretch. Feeling self-conscious under Mr. Damon’s gaze, she tidied her hair, pushed a few pins back in, and ran her hands down the length of her skirt as if it were possible to brush out the wrinkles.

  She bent to fold the blankets and carried them to the wagon before joining the group. Mrs. Brickman handed her a sandwich and a cup of water.

  “I apologize for sleeping so long,” she murmured.

  “You needed to sleep,” Mrs. Brickman said. “We all of us just awakened, with the exception of Mr. Damon. I do not believe he has slept at all.”

  “I must admit that I dozed a bit around the noon hour,” he said, glancing at Anna over Baby Sara’s head. “You look no worse for wear,” he said without smiling.

  Anna dropped her eyes and bit into her sandwich, feeling unaccountably shy. She kept her eyes on the baby in Mr. Damon’s arms. Sara now wore most of her cookie rather than ate it, and he dabbed at the baby’s chin with a white linen handkerchief.

  Suzy laughed behind her hand, and Sally smiled.

  “Do you enjoy children, Mr. Damon?” Anna asked.

  “Yes, I do,” he said. “I have several younger brothers. I often took care of them when they were infants.”

  “Do they live here in Iowa?” she asked.

  Mr. Damon shook his head, as if with regret. “No, they do not.” He did not expand on his reply.