Once the shock began to wear off, he started to understand why Joseph frequently left at night or in the early morning hours to make urgent house calls. Some of the visits were probably to attend those who were ill, but how many were to ride down to Brookville to escort runaway slaves?
All the times he’d condemned Joseph for his views, Joseph had never blinked. He had never even tried to defend himself. He’d kept silent and continued his work.
Daniel realized he might never know more about Joseph’s work than he did at this moment, but he felt privileged to know even a bit. Joseph had sworn him to secrecy and then said they would never speak of it again.
On his ride down tonight he had been frustrated, both at Anna and at Joseph, for opposing him in public while helping slaves in private. But he’d come to understand their need for secrecy. He wouldn’t tell anyone about either of their work.
He only wished that Anna Brent would tell him the truth. Maybe if he were right about tonight, she wouldn’t be able to hide from him anymore. He would know for certain about her.
In the distance, he saw the lantern lights of another canal boat rounding the bend, moving slowly toward him. This time Daniel didn’t have to strain his ears. The man on the towpath belted out the lyrics to the parlor song Daniel was expecting, and with every step, the man’s singing grew louder.
Daniel’s heart raced with excitement. He was about to help the escaping slaves.
When the mule was almost in front of him, Daniel joined in the song. He didn’t know the words well, but he’d heard “Coming Home” sung plenty of times before he’d become a Quaker.
His singing was enough for the man to stop his horse.
Quickly Daniel lit a candle. The driver didn’t call out to him, but moments later four runaways emerged from the boat. Daniel hummed the lyrics again until they found him in the brush.
He could hardly believe it worked.
The driver clicked his tongue, and the mule lumbered forward again. With his hands, Daniel directed the three middle-aged men and one woman toward his horse. Joseph had told him to move swiftly and only speak when necessary. Right now Daniel felt the profound urge to get away from the canal.
When they got to the horse, Daniel introduced himself to them as Ben.
“The closest safe house is four hours north of here,” he said. “We’ll follow the river until we get to Silver Creek. You’ll find shelter and food with friends there.”
He motioned for the woman to climb on the horse, but she resisted, saying she could walk with the men. He refused to ride while she walked, so he waited until she mounted.
Adrenaline pumping, Daniel escorted them up the east fork of the Whitewater. The minutes and then the hours passed slowly as they trudged ahead in the darkness. Joseph had told him not to light a candle unless it was absolutely necessary, so the stars and sounds of the river were their only guides.
Finally they reached the swift-moving creek that dumped into the Whitewater, and Daniel pointed them east. He listened for horses or dogs, but no one interrupted their journey. They traveled past a small settlement of houses and up Silver Creek. When they came to a rope bridge, Daniel stopped and asked one of the men to help the woman dismount.
Joseph had told him to stop at the bridge and give directions for the runaways to journey to the graveyard alone. But he had already decided to deviate from Joseph’s instructions.
They were less than a half-mile from Anna Brent’s house, and he wanted to wait in the shadows to see who was meeting them. If Anna weren’t meeting them, no one but the runaways would even know he was there.
He tied Joseph’s horse to a tree and crept forward with the others in the starlight. His legs were cramped from their long trek, but he wouldn’t stop now. They passed by the waterwheel at the woolen mill steadily churning through the creek, and then another quarter-mile ahead, he saw the wall of the cemetery. The people around him moved into the shadows of trees and brush, and he slid behind a large rock.
He didn’t see anyone arrive at the cemetery, but after about twenty minutes, he heard the soft hum of “Amazing Grace” drift through the forest.
It was Anna.
The runaways moved toward her, but he waited, reconsidering his decision to surprise her like this. Joseph had made it clear that this was the only time he would ask Daniel to direct a group up the line. If he didn’t talk to her now, she would forever pretend that she was oblivious to the runaways. And to him.
As she shook the hands of the men and woman, he stepped out of his hiding place, toward her. She turned quickly, but she didn’t gasp like he supposed she would. Instead she glared at him.
It was too late to turn back, but it was very clear at that moment that he should have listened to all of Joseph’s instructions.
“Please wait here,” she told the runaways. Then she grabbed his arm and pulled him to the side.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, though her words sounded more like a growl.
“Joseph asked me to escort the runaways tonight.”
Her eyes widened, and then she hissed, “You mean Ben.”
He groaned when he saw her surprise—so much for keeping everyone’s identity a secret. She didn’t even know who was bringing the runaways to her house.
She let go of his arm and shook her finger in his face. “Lesson one—you don’t ever give away names on the line. And lesson two—the agent is never allowed to have contact with stationmasters unless absolutely necessary.”
“But how do you know—”
Her voice escalated. “You have got to stop asking questions!”
“I’m not the enemy, Anna.”
She glanced over her shoulder as if she had forgotten that hunters were probably searching the forest tonight. “We have to leave here right away.”
He stepped back toward the gravestones beside her. “I’m terrible at this, aren’t I?”
Her voice softened. “At least you got them here safely.”
If Joseph would let him, he’d do it again. And again.
Anna may have told him to leave, but she didn’t tell him where to go. The boardinghouse seemed rather lonely after his exhilarating walk north, so instead of going home, Daniel mounted the horse, crossed the creek, and rode up the hill toward Anna’s home. He wouldn’t jeopardize her or the runaways in her care. Nor was he done talking to her.
She may not have directly lied to him about her work or her writing, but she was running from the truth. Maybe she couldn’t tell anyone else what she was doing, but he wanted her to trust him. Even if she wouldn’t acknowledge it, Anna understood why he fought so hard with his pen.
A lantern glowed inside the front parlor, but neither Edwin nor Charlotte answered his knock. He sighed as he walked toward the porch swing. Was the whole family avoiding him now? Even if he had to sit here all night, he would wait for Anna to return.
The front door cracked open behind him, and he spun around.
“Come on, Daniel,” Charlotte whispered.
He slipped through the door—into the parlor—and saw the reason Charlotte was whispering. A fair-skinned baby lay on the rug, wrapped in a blue-and-black afghan. Daniel watched as the boy’s fists batted the gum ring that jutted from his mouth. He watched, and he began to wonder.
“Whose child is this?” he asked, his voice more severe than he meant for it to sound.
Charlotte picked up the baby and motioned toward the hall. “Come have coffee with me.”
Daniel followed her, his mind racing to solve a puzzle that held few pieces.
The baby obviously wasn’t Charlotte’s child, and Anna had told them at dinner that she didn’t have any nieces or nephews. Or brothers and sisters.
Marie had been killed, and as far as he knew, they had never found her baby. But this baby’s skin was too light to be a colored child.
Did the baby belong to Anna?
He had thought she was avoiding him to cover up the secret of her work on the Underground, but
maybe she was hiding something else from him.
Chapter Thirty-two
Even after she locked her wards into the mill, Anna couldn’t stop trembling. Never had she suspected that Daniel Stanton would show up at the Silver Creek cemetery. There was a reason they had to keep things separated on the line. She only knew that Charlotte communicated with Ben; she wasn’t supposed to know who brought the slaves to their home or who communicated with the next station.
Or who gave Charlotte the lobelia for Peter.
Daniel never should have mentioned Joseph. She would act differently around him and Esther now. How could she not?
She brushed the hair off her face and hiked up her skirts to climb the hill.
Did this mean Esther was fronting for her husband? She didn’t seem like the type of person who could be entrusted with a vital secret, but there were so many of them who worked undercover. It didn’t really matter either way. Anna could never talk to her or Joseph about it. Nor would she would tell anyone about their work.
Daniel, however, kept cornering her, trying to extract her secrets. He demanded that she talk to him, like he had a right to the private details. How could she begin to trust him with the truth? He may have led those four runaways to her tonight, but then he’d offered up Joseph’s name in such a loud voice that anyone hiding nearby could have heard.
She pushed a branch out of her face and ducked under it.
Why did he have to push so hard?
When she walked down into the kitchen, Anna wasn’t surprised to find him there again, talking with Charlotte. It was like he was trying to hunt her down, and she couldn’t understand it. Did it matter if she liked to write or her pseudonym was Adam Frye? She didn’t have to tell him a thing.
He spun toward her, his smile wary. “Hi, Anna.”
She crossed her arms and glared back at him. “I told you to leave.”
He shrugged. “But you didn’t tell me where to go.”
She marched to the fire and pulled out the coffeepot. He was more than aggravating. He was appalling. It wasn’t hard for her to revise her earlier statement. “You need to go home, Daniel.”
“And I plan to do that...right after you talk to me.”
Anna poured a cup of coffee, but she didn’t talk to Daniel. She flung her next question to Charlotte instead. “Why did you let him in?”
“The poor man needed some coffee.” Charlotte glanced over at the bassinet sitting a few feet back from the fire, and Anna followed her gaze to see Peter inside, sleeping. “And I thought it would be good to have him on the inside of the house this evening.”
Fantastic. Now Daniel knew that secret, too.
Anna shivered and took a sip of the hot coffee. “Are you ready to leave in the morning?”
Charlotte shook her head. “I’m not going to Canada.”
“You may not get another chance....”
Charlotte closed her mouth and nodded her head toward Daniel.
“He already knows.” Anna sighed loud enough to demonstrate that she didn’t approve of his knowledge. “Too much.”
“You need me to be able to communicate with...him.”
“You can say his name, Charlotte. Daniel even knows about Ben.”
Charlotte turned sharply. “How do you—?”
Daniel hung his head. “He needed me to go down to the canal tonight to help some runaways.”
Anna didn’t bother to look at him, pretending instead that he wasn’t in the room. “And Daniel felt compelled to tell me exactly who Ben is.”
Charlotte fell back onto the bench, and when Anna stole a glance toward Daniel, he looked like he was sorry for exposing his brother-in-law. “He didn’t tell me to keep it a secret from you,” Daniel tried to explain.
“Did he tell you to approach me at the cemetery?”
“No. That was my decision.”
“So you were never supposed to talk to me.” Anna set down her mug when Daniel didn’t reply and reached for Charlotte’s hands. “Do you want to go to Canada?”
“No.” She paused. “But I probably should.”
Anna nodded, but her heart felt heavy. For her own protection, Charlotte needed to leave. “It will only be temporary.”
“I hope so.”
Peter murmured in his sleep, and Charlotte reached over and rocked the bassinet. “But I can’t leave you without an outside contact for...Ben.”
Daniel didn’t hesitate. “I can be your contact.”
Anna wanted to shake him. He couldn’t even keep Joseph’s name a secret. How could he be trusted with their communication?
Charlotte wrapped the afghan across Peter’s chest and stood up. “It might work.”
“I don’t know....”
“He practically lives at Joseph’s house already. It wouldn’t be hard for us to think of a good reason for him to come visit here.”
“I could think of a reason,” he said.
At Daniel’s smile, Anna felt her stomach tumble. It was for that very reason that she had to keep her distance from him. Charlotte and even her father may have guessed how she felt, but no one else could know. Especially not Daniel.
Charlotte clapped her hands. “Then it’s perfect.”
“No, it’s not!” Anna insisted. “People will wonder what he’s doing here.”
“Oh, Anna...”
She wasn’t even going to consider what Charlotte was about to propose. “Besides, we can’t trust him.”
Daniel wrapped his coat over his arm. “I’d like to prove to you that you can.”
Anna shoved her coffee away from her. She usually trusted Charlotte’s instincts—it was her own instincts that sometimes got her into trouble. But trust Daniel Stanton? She had no qualms about his passion to end slavery, but that didn’t mean he could keep his mouth shut about their operations. What if he exposed their station by accident? Her life, as well as the lives of the runaways she was harboring, would be at his mercy.
If she dismissed him right now, Charlotte would refuse to go with the Palmers tomorrow. It wasn’t fair to make Charlotte stay because Daniel disarmed her. She may be afraid to have him around, but she wouldn’t let her own selfishness and fear get in the way of protecting the woman who had been her friend for so many years. She could learn to control her heart.
“It won’t be permanent,” Anna told him. “Just until we can find someone else.”
Charlotte sighed in relief, and then she warned them, “Esther doesn’t know anything.”
“I won’t be the one to tell her,” he said.
“Very good.” Charlotte glanced back down at the bassinet. “Now we have to figure out what to do about Peter.”
It was well past midnight when Charlotte went upstairs to pack, but Daniel wasn’t tired. The coffee had revived him...or maybe it was the thought of seeing Anna more often.
She was sitting across from him in silence, her foot gently rocking the bassinet at her side. She didn’t volunteer conversation, so he finally asked, “Where’s your father?”
“Working on a large order for Henry Nelson,” she replied. “He sleeps at the mill more often than not these days.”
He wanted to ask her more about the Nelsons, specifically about Matthew Nelson, but she started to yawn. “It’s far past my bedtime.”
“Mine, too,” he said, but he didn’t move. He didn’t want to go back to his cramped boarding room that still smelled like smoke and soot. He wanted to sit here all night, across from Anna. He motioned to the bassinet. “Tell me about this baby.”
She lifted the boy out of the cradle, and though he didn’t wake, he snuggled close to Anna’s breast. Her face softened with love and wonder. The moment she kissed the baby’s skin, Daniel didn’t want to fight it anymore.
He cared about Anna no matter what had happened in her past, no matter what secrets she still kept from him. He didn’t want to just talk all night. He wanted to gather her into his arms and hold her as close to his chest as she held that baby. And he didn’t
want to let go.
She walked around the table and sat down beside him. Had she already given herself to Matthew or one of the bachelors at Silver Creek? Or somewhere, in the depths of her heart, was she still waiting to find love?
He didn’t trust himself to touch her hand, but he inched closer to her. “I’m tired of the secrets.”
Her gaze was still on the baby. “Me, too.”
“Is this baby yours?”
Her head jerked up, and a cloud settled over her eyes. “Would it matter?”
Yes. No. He wanted to be honest with her, but he knew he would wrestle with jealousy, knowing that she’d been with another man. “I’ve sinned countless times,” he finally said. “And God has forgiven every one of my trespasses.”
She leaned toward him. “What if I wasn’t the one who sinned?”
“I’m learning how to forgive,” he said, his voice strained. “Though it would be very hard for me to forgive the man who took advantage of you.”
The cloud had lifted, and her blue eyes implored him. He didn’t want to stumble over his words yet again and say something he didn’t mean.
“But you could forgive him?” she asked.
“Only by God’s grace.”
“You’re a better Quaker than me, Daniel.”
He shook his head. “Hardly.”
Her fingers rolled gently over the quilt in her arms. “No one took advantage of me.”
He paused and reluctantly digested her words. Maybe it would be harder to forgive the man she’d given herself to willingly.
Her eyes locked with his. “But someone did take advantage of this child’s mother.”
“Who...?” he started but choked on the word.
She held the baby out, and it felt awkward for him to hold such a small child. One hand supported the back of the child’s head, and he wrapped his other hand around the baby’s legs so he wouldn’t accidently drop him on the floor.
He looked down at the child and then back up at Anna for answers.
“His name is Peter,” she whispered. “He is a colored baby.”
Daniel glanced back down at the baby’s face. His skin was whiter than most of the children’s in Liberty. “There’s not a trace of African in him.”
Love Finds You in Liberty, Indiana Page 21