Hiram knew what Ms. Phoebe was going to say to him. That reopening the wound would impact his ability to fly. Knowing that, however, didn’t lessen the disappointment when he saw the grim look on her face.
“Well, young man,” she said, recovering some of her cheerfulness. “Looks like you’ll be staying with us a little longer.”
He sighed. He couldn’t run. “How long?”
She replaced the bandages. “A few weeks.”
His gaze drifted to Winnie. She looked as unhappy as he did, standing there with her arms folded like when she commanded him to sit down. He dared not laugh, but he found humor in the memory. He outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds, but she stood her ground. She had confronted Goldie too. My little angel has got some toughness in her blood.
Inside his boardinghouse, Ms. Phoebe gave him some tips to care for the wound while she and Winnie were working during the day. “I know you’re disappointed, but you heal fast, so it may not be as long as we think.”
“I will take extra care.”
Ms. Phoebe patted his shoulder and went back to her work.
Winnie didn’t change her stance, a frown on her face. “You need to be careful.”
“So you expect me to stand and watch a man get crushed?”
Winnie huffed and began pacing. “Goldie and the others had no business bringing that much timber to East Towson. I’m sure they stole it. If they’re caught, we will all be punished on account of it. Maybe a block of wood would have knocked some sense into his head.”
Although he’d held his laughter earlier, now he could not. He guffawed.
She turned and looked at him, giving him a stern frown. “Are you laughing at me?”
Hiram tried to stop his laughter but couldn’t. “You sure have some fire for being the smallest person on this plantation.”
She stood to her full height. “I am not the smallest person. The children are smaller.”
“Not much smaller.”
Winnie scowled, but footsteps sounded on the stairs. Several pairs. Hiram grumbled at the interruption. So far he’d only seen the sweet, caring Winnie. Her other side fascinated him, mainly because it didn’t seem possible that such compassion and fire could live in one person.
Pastor Matthew rushed into the room. “I was hoping you were still here.” Mr. Paul and Ms. Phoebe followed him in and closed the door. “I have some news.”
Hiram leaned forward on the bed. “You don’t look like it is good news.”
Pastor Matthew shook his head. “It is not.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “I was down in Baltimore and saw this. There is a new law. The Fugitive Slave Act. It puts into law very harsh penalties for anyone caught helping fugitives. Very harsh.”
The room grew still. Hiram felt, like the others, what this law meant. He grappled for words but Winnie spoke up. “Maybe Mama, Papa, and I should stop helping for a while.”
Ms. Phoebe put her hands on her hips. “Winnie, how can you say that?”
Winnie looked down at her shoes, and her voice grew soft. “We cannot anger the Madisons.”
Pastor Matthew looked at her. “I understand if you want to stop helping for a while, but I would not like to lose you.”
“You will not lose us,” Mr. Paul said.
Winnie looked at him with horror. “Papa, remember the last time—”
“I won’t stop helping fugitives who find their way here,” her father replied. “The Madisons have not found out yet, and we will be sure they don’t.”
Winnie sighed. “Yes, Papa.”
Pastor Matthew turned to Hiram. “I suggest you stay inside as much as possible during the day. And stay away from Madison House. I believe the slave catchers went there to ask about you.”
Hiram nodded. “Don’t have to worry about me, Preacher. I can’t go far on this leg.” No matter how much I want to go. But as he looked at the group of people before him, ones willing to risk their lives for him, his gratitude outweighed his desire to be gone.
The world blurred in front of her. Winnie’s back and feet ached, but somehow she kept walking. The sloping hill seemed to carry her toward East Towson more than her steps. Like it was guiding her home. Mrs. Madison’s fervor to clean out the attic had earned Winnie a day of pay, a small sum from the coins Mrs. Madison kept in the house. But she had worked Winnie and the other house staff hard. That wasn’t all they had to do for the day. Cleaning the attic came in addition to their regular duties.
The day had been hard for another reason in addition to the workload. Halfway through the day she heard Mr. Madison telling his wife that something was missing. She had held her breath. Sometimes slaves would steal coins or food that they thought no one would miss. Mr. Madison’s anger, on the other hand, told Winnie that it was more than a few pieces of bread missing. Mr. Madison’s raised voice had echoed through the house. “The wood was there last week.” Winnie had to cover her mouth to keep from gasping. She knew where the wood was. She had feigned needing something from the kitchen and instead had slipped out the back door to avoid being questioned, too exhausted and angry to trust her mouth to keep Goldie’s secret.
She had stood in the sun, hating feeling this tired. Standing there, looking over the green fields, she felt the tug in her stomach. One she felt many times. The tug to start running without care of where she was going. She took one step but stopped. Everything she earned brought her one step closer to walking, not running, away. That thought made her return to her work, weary in body and heart.
It also hadn’t helped that another fugitive had arrived at the church last night. He wasn’t injured like Hiram and had only run from southern Maryland. Winnie had recorded his story, eyes nearly drifting closed on multiple occasions. The man had family back on his plantation and begged Pastor Matthew to send word to let them know he was okay. They had fed him and given him a small sum of money. He had disappeared into the night despite their admonishment for him to stay.
East Towson had stilled by the time she entered the clearing in front of the boardinghouse. The sun was giving off its last orange light for the day. She spotted Hiram at the side of the house. He sat on the edge of the wooden bench from Mr. Samuel’s kitchen. She slowed her approach as she saw what he was doing.
He was leaned over with both hands in a small plot of freshly tilled soil.
He looked up and smiled, and his smile energized her. “What are you doing out here?”
“Planting a garden. I asked your ma about it. She said Mr. Samuel used to grow a garden here, so I figured I’d see what I could grow.” He shrugged. “Might as well do something useful.”
She took a seat on the bench next to him. She sighed at the relief for her feet. Several plants lay beside him with their roots intact. “What is it you’re planting?”
Hiram leaned over and picked up a plant, cradling it in his palm like it was glass. “I don’t know. Never seen them before. They are different than what grew on the plantation in Virginia.”
She took the plant. “This is thistle. It makes a good tea, and you can eat the leaves.”
He nodded, took the plant from her, used his finger to open a hole in the soil, carefully placed the plant in it, and pressed the dirt in around it. He lifted another to her.
She studied it. “This is a weed. Once it starts to grow, you can’t kill it.” She tossed it over her shoulder.
Hiram laughed, deep and rumbly. “Guess I won’t be planting that.” He handed her another.
She gasped. “Yarrow. This is a good cure for many ailments. Where did you find it?”
Hiram lifted the plant from her hands with tenderness. “At the edge of the trees behind the church.”
“Ma will make sure that grows. She may tend it herself.”
Hiram placed the yarrow in the ground and patted the dirt around it. “Tell me about Goldie, Thomas, and Herbert.”
Winnie looked at him, her anger from earlier returning. “They have been here all my life. They are…” She stopped herself from saying what she wanted, which was troublemakers. “They can be difficult. I try to stay away from them.”
“I saw them here in East Towson in the middle of the day. Thought that was strange.”
Winnie slumped. “Maybe they had a break.” She said it knowing Hiram would know better than she did that slaves didn’t get long breaks in the middle of the day.
“Maybe.” Hiram sounded suspicious and she, stifling a yawn, didn’t have the energy to convince him otherwise.
Hiram grew quiet. She knew she needed to get to her boardinghouse and bed, but she couldn’t convince her body to move. A few minutes longer and I’ll go. “Did you find any more interesting plants?”
She didn’t hear his answer. The sound of the crickets faded to a whisper. The night warmed, and she felt as if it had cast its cloak over her. So peaceful…
She jolted, eyes opening.
The night was dark. She still sat on the bench beside Hiram, but now she sat against him, nuzzled into his side. He had one arm loosely draped around her shoulders. Her eyes widened. She had fallen asleep on him. But now that she was awake, she didn’t want to move. His breathing was deep and rhythmic, his body warm compared to the night. That was probably why she’d slept so soundly.
Then he moved. She got ready to speak, but to her surprise, he stood, lifting her off the bench. He picked her up as easily as he would a down-filled pillow, and cradled her. She kept her eyes closed, her neck heating. She should tell him she was awake. She should, but this was a very enjoyable way to get to her boardinghouse. She let her head rest against his chest.
She nearly broke her act when she heard her father’s concerned voice. “Is she all right?”
“Yes,” Hiram answered. That one word reverberated through his chest and down to her bones. “She fell asleep in the middle of talking to me. I let her sleep for a while. She looked so tired. Then I figured she would be more comfortable at home.”
“Put her in her room and her mother will get her ready for bed.” Winnie kept her face slack. Her father’s footsteps sounded on the stairs up to the loft where she slept. “That girl works too hard. She’ll work herself to death.”
Oh, Papa. I’m working for a good reason.
Her bedroom door opened, and Hiram carried her to her bed. He laid her down gently.
“Thanks for bringing her home. Don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to her.”
“Me either.”
They left and quietly closed the door. Winnie fell asleep again with a huge smile on her face.