To Love a Spy

by Aileen Fish

  “I will see you at dinner, my love,” he said. He jumped onto his horse and galloped out of the stable yard, a dashing and heroic figure in black with his hat low on his head. She stared after him, wondering how she could have fallen in love amidst the cruelty of slavery and the chaos of impending war.

  Chapter 9

  Mrs. Brickman rallied herself to present a wonderful dinner, and she joined them in the dining room.

  George noted that Mr. Douglas looked from Anna to George with curiosity, and he assumed she had not spoken to her father yet regarding his proposal.

  “I have heard that young men are volunteering to join the Federal army in droves,” Mr. Douglas said sadly. “I am not certain where they will go, perhaps Dubuque. Anamosa does not have a large enough population to form a regiment.”

  George could not keep his eyes from Anna’s face, not she from his. He dreaded his departure the following day, but go he must.

  “No, I do not think Anamosa can support its own regiment,” George agreed, tearing his gaze from Anna. “Now that we are alone in your house, Mr. Douglas, I wanted to tell you of my impending departure. If Anna has not already told you, I think you must have realized by now that I am the conductor who brought Suzy, Sally and the infant to you from Missouri. I made other deliveries to other stations in Iowa prior to that.”

  Mr. Douglas drew in a sharp breath and stared at George. Anna smiled. Mrs. Brickman did not look surprised.

  “Yes, of course you are!” Anna’s father exclaimed with a wide smile. “I should have recognized you!”

  “It is as well that you did not. Otherwise, my disguise would have been useless,” George said. “I tell you now because I was recruited in January to spy for the North in the event of war.” Though they were alone in his house, he lowered his voice. “I must leave tomorrow.”

  “Spying is a dangerous undertaking,” Mrs. Brickman murmured. “You could be hanged or shot if you are discovered.”

  Anna’s face blanched at Mrs. Brickman’s words, and George sighed. He did not want her to worry about him.

  “Yes, that is true, Mrs. Brickman,” George said, “but that is also true for everyone in war.”

  “How do you feel about spying against the South?” Mr. Douglas asked. “Would it not be difficult for you, a Southerner?”

  “Yes and no,” George said somberly. “I feel conflicted. I am Southern by birth but Northern in my feelings regarding the slaves. My grandfather saw to that.”

  “Will your brothers join the rebellion?” Anna asked.

  He shook his head. “I cannot say. I have not spoken to my family in several years since my mother passed away. I imagine my brothers might be expected to join the Confederacy.”

  Mrs. Brickman tsked in sympathy.

  “I am so sorry, George,” Anna said softly. George sat across the table from her—otherwise, he would have been tempted to take her sympathetic hand in his.

  “I do not know who will bring the slaves north now,” George said. “I wrote to my contact, but I will not hear back from him before I leave in the morning. Nor do I know what difficulties the war presents for the railroad, given that access to the South must surely become severely limited. Missouri is a border state, but I do not know how that will truly translate during a war between the states.”

  George looked at Anna once again before speaking. He knew his next words would anger her, but for her sake he could not leave them unsaid.

  “Mr. Douglas, your daughter has suggested going in my stead, and I wish for you to dissuade her from such a foolhardy notion. I was able to enter Missouri without question because I am a Missourian. I know the area. The same cannot be said for Northerners, and especially not a woman.”

  “Anna! No! Absolutely not!” her father exclaimed, turning to Anna at George’s first words.

  Mrs. Brickman choked on her wine and coughed.

  “Oh, dear, no!” she murmured.

  Anna narrowed her eyes and stared accusingly at George.

  He met her gaze evenly, though he hated to see her brows drawn together in anger. He had only hours before asked her to marry him, but now he wondered if that was a dream not meant to be.

  “I run the risk of angering Anna, but I believe with all my heart that her idea is much too dangerous, and now that war is upon us, impossible!”

  “George,” Anna said in a warning voice.

  George saw from her father’s expression that he had what he wanted—Mr. Douglas’ rejection of her plan.

  “As Mr. Damon states, Anna, it is impossible,” her father continued. “I will inquire as to the availability of another conductor,” he said, “although Mr. Damon may be quite right. Access to the South may be closed to us, given the outbreak of war.”

  Anna said nothing, looking up occasionally at George with a glint in her blue eyes. His heart ached. Would she now repudiate his offer of marriage?

  Suddenly, she smiled, and he drew in a ragged breath of relief

  “Shall we tell them?” she asked.

  George nodded.

  “Father, Mrs. Brickman, George has asked me to marry him, and I said yes.”

  Anna’s cheeks flamed, but she looked happy. George thanked his lucky stars that her anger was short lived.

  “What a surprise!” Mr. Douglas exclaimed. “Congratulations! Did you know of this?” he asked Mrs. Brickman.

  “No, not at all, although one could see that Anna and Mr. Damon are perfectly suited to each other.” She beamed at George and Anna. “Congratulations! Wonderful news in this sad time.”

  George sobered and nodded.

  “Anna and I have not had time to discuss the date of the wedding, but it will have to be after I return.”

  Anna nodded. “I will be here,” she said softly. Her cheeks glowed rosy, and he longed to pull her into his arms once again.

  “I hope so,” he said, gazing at her with love.

  “A toast,” her father said. “May you return soon!”

  They raised glasses and toasted.

  “I never thought to see Anna married,” Mr. Douglas said with a broad smile on his face. “She has been very particular, rejecting any of the eligible men in Anamosa as possible suitors.”

  “Father!” Anna protested with a laugh. “As if I have had any suitors at all!”

  George did not know whether to be relieved or concerned. Had Anna had many suitors? He imagined she must have. She was quite beautiful and would have had no lack of admiration.

  She answered his unspoken question.

  “I did not think ever to marry, George, because I never met a man like you—courageous, honest, compassionate and dedicated to a cause that I believe in with my whole heart.”

  George gazed into Anna’s eyes as if drowning in them. Mr. Douglas cleared his throat, and Mrs. Brickman clinked her glassware. That Anna thought him courageous touched George immeasurably. He was often terrified when he brought slaves out of the South, terrified that they would be discovered and their lives made worse, that they would suffer violent consequences as a result of their attempts to escape.

  He had never knowingly brought slaves north from his father’s plantation, and he knew his father would not send slave catchers after them, nor would he punish them.

  George put his hand over his heart but did not trust himself enough to speak. Anna’s eyes glowed when she looked at him, and he wondered how happy one man could be.

  Now, if only she would abandon her notion of rescuing escaped slaves from the South. For as much as he loved her, he did not trust her.

  Following dinner, George took a cup of tea on the porch with Anna. They sat together side by side on a bench. Mr. Douglas and Mrs. Brickman clearly meant them to have a few private moments before they parted.

  “I know that in betraying your confidence, I made you angry, Anna, but I was so worried you would attempt to convince your father to let you take over as conductor on the railroad. Promise me that you will abandon the idea.”

  Anna shoo
k her head. “We do not need to talk of such things now, do we, George? As you worry about me, I will worry about you. While I knew spying was dangerous, I do not think I knew you could be hanged or shot.”

  George sighed.

  “It would be considered an act of treason against the Confederacy, Anna, especially so since my roots are Southern.”

  “I cannot ask you again not to do this, George, and I am deeply ashamed that I did. I am so very proud of you.”

  George took Anna’s hand in his and kissed it.

  “Thank you, my love. It is already hard enough to go.”

  “How long do you think you will be gone, George?”

  “I cannot say. Hopefully, the war will end soon, perhaps even in a matter of months. Surely the South knows it cannot win against the Union.”

  “Will many men die, George?”

  “I hope not, my love.”

  “You said you had not spoken to your family since your mother passed away. What happened?”

  George sighed heavily.

  “I returned from the North upon my mother’s death, but I was a changed man. No longer did I look upon my father’s plantation as a home but as a place of forced servitude, of slavery. I argued with my father to free the slaves. I argued with my younger brothers. And while my father always knew that my mother despised the plantation way of life, he did not accede to her wishes to free the slaves. He was certainly not inclined to give in to me. And so I left, and we have not spoken since.”

  “I am so sorry, George.”

  “As am I,” he said, kissing her hand once again.

  “Are you the eldest son?”

  He nodded. “I am.”

  “But could you not have freed the slaves once your father passed away and you inherit the farm?”

  “Perhaps, but my father is a robust man. He will live to be one hundred years old.” George smiled.

  “You miss him.”

  George nodded. “I do. I love him very much, and I know he loves me.”

  “Where can I write to you, George? Where will your duties take you?”

  “I do not know as yet, nor how we will exchange letters, but we will. I will write to you as soon as possible.”

  George pulled out his pocket watch and studied it with a frown.

  “It is late. I must go, my love.”

  Anna grabbed his hand as if she would not release it.

  “I love you!” she breathed. “Please come back to me.”

  George rose and pulled her into his arms.

  “And I love you. Please take care of your father and yourself. We cannot know what will happen in the coming months, but please believe that I will think of you every hour of every day, and I will come back to you.”

  With his thumbs, George brushed the tears from Anna’s cheeks, and he bent to kiss her lips. He folded his arms around her waist and held her to him as tightly as he dared.

  “Good-bye, my darling,” George said. His heart ached as he turned away. Mounting his horse and riding away from the woman he loved was the most difficult thing he had ever done in his life.

  Chapter 10

  Anna waited until dark to load the wagon with blankets, water and food. Since the advent of the Civil War two years prior, the fear of being caught by slave catchers in Iowa had lessened considerably, and she worried less about being turned over to authorities under the Fugitive Slave Act, especially given the Emancipation Proclamation, freeing slaves in the Confederate states.

  When Anna thought the slaves of Missouri would be freed, her father explained that the law did not pertain to the border state, as the Missouri government had not seceded but had remained with the Union. The Emancipation Proclamation only applied to those states that had seceded, those that were considered to be in rebellion.

  “But, Father,” she had protested. “That makes no sense. Then we do still have slave states in the Union?”

  Her father had shaken his head. “Yes, my dear, and as of right now, there seems to be no plan to abolish slavery in those states. As I understand it, President Lincoln needs those border states and strategic positions to continue the war to preserve the Union. To abolish slavery within those states might force them to secede.”

  “But he can state that all slaves within Confederate states will be emancipated,” she said flatly.

  “Yes, that is correct. Not right, but correct. Do not grow discouraged, my dear. If the Federal government wins the war, I am certain they will abolish slavery throughout the remainder of the Union.”

  Now, Anna prepared to make a run to the border of Iowa and Missouri, to a nearby town called Salem, Iowa, to collect some escaped slaves. Perhaps if they had they made their way further south, they might now be free. She shook her head. No, that did not make sense.

  Fortunately, fewer Southerners now ventured north in pursuit of slaves, most able-bodied men having been drafted into the Confederacy to fight. However, she had heard there were still a few slave catchers who pursued particularly valuable slaves across borders for money.

  Her father came outside to hitch the horses to the wagon. Blackie, now aged, could not have withstood the long journey to the Missouri border and back, and so she and her father had bought two sturdy browns.

  “Every time you leave, Anna, I wonder if I will ever see you again,” he said sadly. “When I initially agreed to allow you to do this, I thought you might undertake only one or two journeys to the next station and that a suitable replacement for George would be found. And yet here we are, two years later, and you now travel further than most conductors and have found fault with every man who has applied to take the job.”

  Anna hugged her father. She knew fear. She knew the fear of never knowing where the man she loved was and whether or not he was safe.

  They had never expected the war to go beyond a few months. Now, two years later, it seemed as if it would never end. Reports stated that thousands upon thousands of men had died in battle, and she mourned their loss. To date, George had not been one of the casualties. He managed to dispatch letters to her once every month on average, but they came sporadically, sometimes two at once and then nothing for several months, leading her to worry that he had been caught.

  Yes, she knew fear.

  “I understand, Father. I truly do, but the men who have sought the job wanted money, and we have none to offer. The Quakers have no one left to spare, and all the other good men have gone to war.”

  “What kind of father allows his only daughter to traipse about in a war zone collecting escaped slaves who may themselves harm her?” he muttered.

  “A father who knows he has no other choice,” she said with a smile. “There have been no skirmishes along Missouri’s northeast border that I am aware of, Father, and I do not enter the state at any rate. I am not so brave, as George was, to abscond with the slaves from their plantations. I merely pick them up from Mr. Napier’s house in Salem, Iowa, once they cross the border. And none of the slaves has ever threatened me harm, Father,” she said. “Not really.”

  “That is not true,” he protested. “What about the man you brought north two months ago? Did you not tell me that he found the rifle under the blankets and brandished it at you?”

  “Solomon,” Anna nodded. “His wife persuaded him that to take their escape into his own hands was unwise, and he relinquished the gun. While I momentarily feared for my safety, I soon realized that Solomon did not know how to fire the gun, and he handed it back to me with abject apology. It has not happened since.”

  “I am not relieved,” her father said. “I imagine you have not yet told George of your activities?”

  “No, Father, and you promised you would not say anything to him when he writes to you with inquiries about his farm. You promised me.”

  Her father nodded. “I wish he would return home.”

  “I do too,” Anna said fervently, “but for now, he cannot. I would worry about him just as much if he were entering a slave-holding state right now as a condu
ctor for the Underground Railroad as I do about his spying.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “I do not know, Father. He never tells me, and his letters carry no postmarks.”

  “Will this blasted war never end?” her father said bitterly. “Why does the Confederacy not see that they cannot win? The institution of slavery will end one way or another.”

  “I do not know, Father. But then I have never understood how one man can enslave another. You taught me that.”

  Her father wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

  “Please take care, my dear,” he said.

  Mrs. Brickman came outside and brought the rifle with her. She set it down inside the front of the wagon.

  “Please travel safely, Anna,” she said.

  Anna hugged her before climbing into the wagon, facilitated by the trousers she now wore. She had attempted her first journey in a skirt but soon realized that she needed the anonymity that trousers, a large hat and a thick greatcoat offered her. She often passed for a man, though she suspected not on close inspection.

  She thrust a booted foot against the buckboard, secured the rifle next to her and took the reins from her father. The moon was full, and the roads were dry. She anticipated no trouble on the journey until she neared the border. What slave catchers were still about might be more prevalent there as the slaves attempted to cross into a free state.

  She shook the reins and looked over her shoulder at Mrs. Brickman and her father holding hands as she pulled away. He had finally proposed to the longtime housekeeper, and Anna wondered irrelevantly what she would call Mrs. Brickman. Mother? Emily?

  She waved good-bye and turned her head forward, clicking her tongue to encourage the horses. She headed out of town and south toward Salem. The journey would take about four days given good weather. She stayed at stations along the way, the very same stations that George had stayed at.

  Once Anna had convinced her father that she was up to the task, he had reluctantly contacted agents on the railroad and made arrangements for her to stay in their homes. When she had first begun her route, she had only gone as far as Iowa City, some fifty-two miles distant. But one day, the next conductor had not appeared, and when a messenger arrived to say that the conductor had unexpectedly fallen ill and died, Anna had agreed to travel another sixty miles to Salem to pick up three escaped slaves.