Love Finds You in Liberty, Indiana

by Melanie Dobson

  “I’m not saying slavery is right,” she replied. “I only think that slaves who have been sold to a master should stay and adhere to them as the scriptures say.”

  Daniel leaned closer to her, his eyes aflame. “And views like yours and my sister’s are why so many people are still in bondage to other humans instead of being equal with them like the scriptures command.”

  Daniel’s gaze drifted toward Charlotte, and Anna knew what was next. He was going to ask her colored housekeeper and friend what she thought about slavery. She couldn’t bear to hear Charlotte expound on the positive attributes of the institution that had abused her mind and body. Charlotte squeezed her hand, and Anna prepared to scoot her chair back. Before Daniel could ask Charlotte a question, though, Matthew interjected his support of Anna’s view.

  “Most slave owners care well for their workers, and all they ask for in return is obedience,” he said.

  Daniel swiveled his head toward Matthew. “And a fourteen-hour workday without pay.”

  Matthew shrugged. “I’m not saying it’s easy work, but the owners do provide shelter and clothing and food for people who probably wouldn’t be able to provide it for themselves.”

  Charlotte lurched beside her like she’d been scalded, and Anna knew it was time to leave. Neither of them needed to hear anything more about slaves, especially the insinuation that they were perhaps too lazy or stupid to care for themselves. She would get Charlotte away from this table and then go in search of Peter before the hour passed.

  “So give them the option,” Daniel continued, oblivious to the thoughts racing in Anna’s mind.

  Matthew swirled the brandy in his glass. “What do you mean?”

  “Let those who are now working as slaves decide if they’d prefer to provide for themselves or let their masters provide for them.”

  Anna leaped to her feet and dragged Charlotte up with her. “Here we are gabbing away at our own little table, and we haven’t even greeted Luke and Rachel yet.”

  Esther frowned. “There’s plenty of time to speak with them.”

  “I want to see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

  Esther glanced at Daniel and then looked back at her. “You and your father must come to dinner at our house this week.”

  “Perhaps that would work.”

  “Please don’t forget to bring your poetry.”

  Anna nodded, but her mind wasn’t on her writing right now. She had to deliver the envelope in her pocket, find her father, and then leave this building so she could ride to the Sutters’ before it started to get dark.

  “I suggest you return to the topic of snow.” Anna nodded toward Esther and then Matthew before she walked away from the table. She avoided looking at Daniel, not wanting to see disappointment on the face of someone whom she admired so. “It’s been a pleasure talking with you.”

  “Yes,” Charlotte muttered beside her. “A pleasure.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Even after Anna left the table, Matthew kept talking to Esther, although he changed the topic to the gold that people were finding in California’s streams and riverbeds. As Daniel strolled toward the window, he heard Matthew tell her about his plans to go west in the next few months. His parents frowned on his idea, but he was leaving Liberty the instant he had enough money for supplies.

  Good riddance! Daniel thought and then raked his hands through his hair as he searched the street for Simon Mathers. Bells chimed from the tower at the Methodist church and rang through town. The street was crowded with more buggies and more horses, but he didn’t see any sign of the man who had delivered his news about Marie and then laughed at her fate. Simon had known that Marie was dead, maybe had even killed her himself. It was a travesty to think that a man could do that to any woman, especially one as vulnerable as a slave girl.

  On the wall beside the front door of the hotel were ten or eleven posters, many of them advertisements for missing slaves. At the top was a handbill that matched the advertisement he’d read in the Union County News for Marie and her baby. How much had Simon already made for helping track them down?

  Daniel turned away from the posters and glanced across the room until he found Anna. What kind of woman didn’t understand a mother’s compulsion to seek out freedom for her child?

  She and Charlotte were talking with an older man, though the wide smile he’d seen at the debate had been erased from her face. She was still pretty, but she looked older and a bit sadder.

  Even Esther seemed to understand the horror of selling a young slave child away from his parents, but not Anna. She had said that Marie was being selfish for running away with her child.

  His head ached from the confusion that tangled itself in his mind. Who was this woman? Out on the courthouse lawn, he had thought she was supporting his words. Her smile and gentle nods helped carry him through the fight. Yet here she was speaking not only against abolition but against the slaves themselves.

  He leaned back against the wall but couldn’t take his eyes off Anna. He had to stop fooling himself. He may not think he would ever marry, but he had been attracted to Anna from the day he saw her at the courthouse. Today, though, she had summarily doused any illusions he had about her or a possible future.

  Even if she was a beautiful Quaker woman, there was no hope that something might happen between them. God had clearly spoken the answer today through Anna herself. No matter how he felt about her, the issue of slavery divided them as clearly as the Ohio divided the North from the South.

  “There you are, Daniel.” Isaac Barnes reached for his hand and shook it. “There’s someone I’ve been wanting you to meet from the Salem Meeting.”

  A Quaker girl stepped from behind Isaac, fluttering her eyelashes up at him. She was about nineteen or twenty, with a petite face dappled with light freckles. Her hair was black and her eyes a stunning green.

  “This is Charity Penner,” Isaac explained with an outrageously large smile.

  Daniel managed to smile back. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  As Isaac rambled about Charity’s talents in gardening and quilting, Daniel watched Anna out of the corner of his eyes. She hastily came up behind his employer, handed something to him, and then blew past Daniel in such a hurry that he doubted she even knew that the hem of her skirt had brushed over his feet.

  He nodded at Charity, trying to listen to her talk about her quilting project, but his mind was on the girl who had just swung open the hotel’s front doors and run outside.

  Anna flicked the reins over Samara’s back, and the horse rushed her out of town. She hadn’t told her father her destination nor did she tell Charlotte, although her friend knew exactly where she was going. This time Charlotte didn’t try to argue with her—neither of them wanted Peter to be hurt.

  When the wedding reception was over, Charlotte and her father would walk home and she could quietly tell him why Anna needed to leave before they’d even begun to serve the food.

  There was no reason for her to stay at the party anyway. She would have to spend the afternoon avoiding Daniel Stanton so he couldn’t read the truth in her eyes. And she didn’t want to be around Matthew, either. After hearing his views on slavery, she had never been more certain that she couldn’t marry him.

  Even though she longed to speak with Daniel and tell him what she really thought, there was no chance that the two of them could even be friends. As long as he thought she believed as Matthew, he’d despise her. She’d never be able to let him think otherwise.

  The road to Connersville was fairly clear, so she pressed Samara ahead as hard as she could until they came to the turnoff toward the Sutters’ home. At the creek where she had left Marie and the others over a week ago, she parked the buggy and pushed the brake down over the wheel. After taking the harness off Samara, she pulled up her skirts to mount.

  She’d never actually been to the Sutters’ home, but she knew the directions well. Two miles up the creek she turned right at the larg
e beech tree with the S carved deep into its pale gray bark. Ducking under the low canopy of yellow and red leaves, she and Samara galloped up the path.

  A sigh of relief slipped from her mouth when she saw the blue trim on the farmhouse ahead. The dozens of fugitives she’d brought this way had probably felt the same sense of relief, or more, at the sight of the stately home with the cupola.

  There was no light in the cupola, but it was also early afternoon on the Sabbath. The Sutters weren’t Quakers, but they attended church in Connersville. On this beautiful day, she hoped that one of them had needed to stay home from the service.

  She pounded on the door and then rang the bell. A middle-aged woman finally answered, her green eyes streaked with red. Either she’d been crying or sleeping when Anna arrived.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” she said. “Are you Betsy Sutter?”

  The woman looked over Anna’s shoulder and then back at her, studying her plain gray dress and bonnet but not saying anything.

  “I’m alone,” Anna assured her.

  The woman waved her into the house and motioned for her to sit down on a chair in the formal parlor while she spread herself across the settee. Propping a pillow under her head, the woman studied her for a moment before she spoke.

  “I’m sorry I can’t offer you anything to drink.” The woman closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ve been struck with a terrible headache this morning.”

  Anna folded her hands together. “I don’t need anything to drink.”

  “I’m Betsy Sutter.” She pressed hard on her temples like she could squeeze the pain out of her head. “Who are you?”

  “Anna Brent. Edwin Brent’s daughter.”

  Betsy opened her eyes and stared aghast at her. Stationmasters weren’t supposed to have any contact, especially not a visit like this. All communication was done through their elusive agent, Ben, and his contacts. Anything else could upset the precarious system they’d developed to help rush runaways up the line.

  Betsy propped herself up on her elbows. “And why are you here, Miss Brent?”

  “I’m looking for a friend of a friend.”

  Fear flashed across Betsy’s face. “I don’t know any of your friends.”

  “Usually I bring them to the creek and let them walk to your house. I tell them to look for the light in the cupola before they knock.”

  Betsy shook her head and then groaned at the pain. “What are you talking about?”

  “I know this isn’t the way we’re supposed to do things, Betsy, but I need your help.”

  “I’m always glad to help, Miss Brent, but my husband and I are law-abiding citizens. I can’t speak to this notion of lights and secret knocks.”

  Anna hesitated. It was a risk to talk to this woman about specific runaways, yet she didn’t have a choice. Peter may have been left alone for days. She prayed he was alive, but even if he weren’t, she still had to find his body. For Marie’s sake.

  Betsy closed her eyes again, a sharp end to their conversation.

  Anna understood why Betsy was scared. An hour ago, she’d done the same thing as Betsy, denying herself the opportunity to say exactly what she thought about slavery to protect the runaway slaves. Without the woman’s help, though, she would never find Peter. She had to convince Betsy that she wasn’t part of a scam to expose her safe house.

  “A little over a week ago, I brought a young runaway girl to your house named Marie. She had a light-skinned baby with her named Peter.”

  Betsy opened her eyes again, recognition dawning in them, though she didn’t open her mouth to reply.

  Anna paused. “I believe that Marie has been murdered.”

  “What?” Betsy exclaimed.

  Anna quickly told her the story about Daniel and the slave hunter and what Terrance Platt had found.

  Betsy’s red eyes turned teary. “That explains my headache.”

  Anna blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “I never get headaches.” Betsy pushed herself up on the settee. “And I never stay home from church.”

  Anna leaned forward and spoke gently. “I need you to tell me where you took Marie and Peter.”

  Betsy sat still for a moment, and Anna was afraid the woman wouldn’t divulge the next station on the line.

  “East of here is an apple orchard,” Betsy whispered, and Anna listened intently as Betsy gave her directions to the next house, ten miles northeast.

  Anna stood and thanked her.

  “It will take a miracle to find him,” Betsy said.

  “Yes, it will.”

  The woman smiled softly. “But I believe in miracles.”

  Anna stepped toward the door. “So do I.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  At the small farmhouse of Adeline Hampshire, Anna sat in the parlor and repeated her story. Her hostess’s shoulders shook as Anna spoke, and then she began crying. Anna felt terrible delivering such bad news to an elderly woman who cared deeply for Marie and her baby.

  Adeline dabbed at her cheeks with a handkerchief. “They left here late last night.”

  Anna caught her breath. Maybe there was hope. “Where did they go next?”

  Adeline shook her head. “I’m not privy to that information.”

  Anna squeezed her hands together in her lap. “But you must know someone who could find out where they went.”

  When Adeline didn’t reply, Anna collapsed back against her seat, deflated. She was so close to finding Peter, but to search the miles of forest and fields around here would take days. If she ever did find Peter, it would probably be too late.

  “It’s dreadful, isn’t it?” Adeline’s voice cracked, and her gaze wandered to the crackling fireplace behind Anna. “What they do to these slaves.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “I’m only doing a small part to help them, but then look what happens to one of these precious children that have rested here.”

  Anna reached over and took the woman’s hands. “That very same child who rested in your house is resting today in the arms of Jesus.”

  “Thank God,” Adeline sniffed. “Thank God she is finally home.”

  Anna stood up to warm her hands by the fire. “Did Marie take Peter with her when she left?”

  “Yes, she had him bundled in blankets and a flannel gown.” Adeline paused as she remembered something. “She had split her foot on a nail or something else sharp before she arrived here, so she could barely walk as it was. I begged her to stay until she healed, but she said she had to keep going.”

  Anna could feel the woman’s anguish deep in her own heart. “It’s not your fault, Adeline. Her master would have shown up here to look for her, and when he found her, you and any other runaways in your home would have been in danger.”

  Adeline’s eyes met hers, pleading for an answer. “How did he find her?”

  Anna stepped even closer to the fire. The secret network they’d developed to move slaves north was known only to a few, but those who supported the slave owner’s rights would have a network as well, with eyes and ears in the farmlands and the forests and the main roads.

  “I don’t know,” Anna said as she reached for the cloak over the back of her chair. “But I’m not going to let them find Peter as well.”

  “I don’t know where she went.” Adeline hesitated. “But my farmhand can tell you.”

  She silently thanked God that Adeline was willing to trust her.

  Adeline escorted her to the door and called out toward the barn. “Earl?”

  A short man wearing denim overalls and a straw hat moved toward the house. His arms bulged under his shirt, and his nose was bent to the left—good signs that he wouldn’t hesitate to throw a punch if someone crossed him.

  Struggling through another round of tears, Adeline explained the urgency of Anna’s story to Earl. The man eyed her warily at first, but then his expression turned to alarm when Adeline said they’d found the body of a colored girl nearby.

  He stif
fened. “I heard the dogs.”

  Anna took a step toward him. “What dogs?” she pressed.

  “I heard ’em when I left my passengers by the cornfield. I told myself the dogs were barking from a nearby farmhouse, but I knew better.”

  “You couldn’t have known,” Anna said.

  His face clouded with guilt. “I should have turned back.”

  “You can’t go back,” Anna spoke softly. “But you can help me find Marie’s baby.”

  When Earl nodded slowly, Adeline grasped Anna’s hand. “I shouldn’t hear this.”

  Anna thanked her, but before she left the kitchen, Adeline turned back to her. “Can you let me know...?”

  “I’ll try.”

  Adeline wiped another tear off her cheek. “Thank you.”

  With Samara at her side, Anna trekked through the forest north of Adeline’s house for hours, searching under logs and in the depths of matted brush along the path. She called out Peter’s name over and over like he could call back to her. All she needed to hear was one cry in the dense forest—but except for the faint rustle of dry leaves dancing with the breeze, the forest around her was silent.

  Please God, she prayed again and again. Help me find him. And then she dared to ask, And please help me find him alive.

  As she walked through the trees, she could see Marie clutching her baby close to her chest, snuggling with him like he was all she had in this world. She had wanted freedom for this child of hers, and if God in His mercy helped her find Peter, Anna would do everything she could to get him to freedom—even if it meant traveling to Canada herself and placing him safely on free soil.

  “C’mon, Samara,” she coaxed her tired horse.

  Earl’s directions led them out of the trees and toward an abandoned homestead along the river. The blue sky above the old cabin was slowly darkening, and in another hour the sunlight would be gone. Before the sun disappeared, she had to get back through the woods, or she and Samara would be spending the night lost out here in the frigid air.