CHAPTER TEN

OLIVIA

As soon as Douglas left to go to work in the small clinic blocks away from their house, Olivia headed for the secret room. She had gone down to give Beulah and Hope breakfast and wanted to check on them once more before she went to the Wilsons’ grocery. Hope had been improving when Olivia left her and Beulah last night.

In all her years of being a stationmaster, she never could make herself comfortable with leaving passengers in the house alone. Of course, there was nothing to fear. If something happened abovestairs, like a fire, she had told all her passengers to go across the alley to Mr. Still’s house if they needed help and she wasn’t there.

Despite this, it took her over an hour to work up the nerve to leave Beulah and Hope. She had never had a child in her room, and a sick one no less. Beulah assured her they would be fine. Olivia’s nerves still jittered. She had reluctantly left them, promising she would return as soon as possible.

Outside, the November day was chilly, but not the uncomfortable cold that Philadelphia weather could bring. She put on her coat and hat, slipped out the door, and locked it behind her. The Wilsons’ grocery was located ten minutes away. Her trip took her past rows of houses, some of which she knew to be station houses as well.

They had a network of houses in the area. Mr. Still even kept passengers in his home when it was too dangerous to move them. That happened more often than any of them were comfortable with. Not only did they have to worry about patrols but also their fellow citizens who opposed the abolishment of slavery. Added to that was the risk of getting caught aiding a fugitive.

Their fellow citizens were easy to navigate around, since most of their actions happened in the day, with anti-abolition protests and speeches, newspaper articles, and such. The slave catchers, however, moved with stealth after dark. Many conductors had found themselves staring down the barrel of the gun of a slave catcher intent on recovering their quarry. The need for secrecy was paramount because the slave catchers were watching and were ruthless.

The grocery had a fair number of customers this morning. She spotted several of her neighbors and Henry mulling over some potatoes. Olivia smiled her greeting to Thea before she started her shopping. As she finished, Franklin rounded one of the shelves, carrying a crate of apples.

He grinned at her. “Ms. ‘Livia.”

“Hello, Franklin.”

He looked over his shoulder. “I think my pa is looking for you.”

“Thank you, Franklin.”

The boy continued down the aisle to the section of the store that held the produce. Olivia finished her shopping, her mind picking at the mystery of Mr. Wilson needing to speak to her. Thea stood at the counter, taking notes in a ledger. “Good morning, Mrs. Kingston.” Her greeting was as warm as ever, but a little louder than normal.

“Good morning.” Frowning, Olivia placed her purchases on the counter.

The curtain that separated the back storage room from the front of the store parted, and Mr. Wilson stepped through. “Mrs. Kingston, I was about to send Franklin ‘round. I got somethin’ special in that I thought would interest you.”

Her hand slowed. “Something special” was code for passengers. “Would you like me to come now?”

“Yes, and if you could step in the back …” His tone would have sounded light to anyone else, but Olivia heard the note of seriousness in it.

She set her basket on the counter, and Thea took ahold of it. “I can finish this.”

Olivia followed Mr. Wilson through the curtain and down a row of shelves. At the back was a small room being used as an office. Mr. Wilson cracked the door. “It’s all right,” he said quietly.

It took a second for Olivia to realize that he was addressing someone other than her, since the room appeared empty. Then she saw a man, clothes tattered and skin pallid, ease from under the desk.

Olivia kept her mouth from gaping. “Hello.”

The man eyed her. “Hello, ma’am.”

Mr. Wilson moved around the edge of the desk. “Our guest is in need of attention.” He turned to the man. “This lady can help you. Show her.”

The man stared at Mr. Wilson for a second longer before turning his shoulder. There was a rip in his shirt, and an angry slash could be seen through the tear.

Olivia kneeled and peered at him. “Gunshot?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the man said.

“Looks like the bullet grazed you, but we will need to clean it before it gets infected.” She looked up at Mr. Wilson. “Do you have medical supplies?”

Mr. Wilson nodded, stepped to the door, and called for Franklin. The boy appeared seconds later, and Olivia told him what supplies she needed. When he left, she turned her attention back to the man. “I am Mrs. Kingston. What is your name?”

The man dropped his eyes. “Walker.”

“Walker, can I ask you about how you got here?”

The man nodded.

“Did a conductor help you get here?” Mr. Wilson asked.

“Yes, sir. But when we was runnin’, we got separated.” He rubbed his face. “The slave catchers caught us while we was sleepin’ in a barn, and sent the dogs in for us.”

Olivia fought a shudder. “You ran with others?”

“Two more. Men from a plantation near me. We met someone who would help us, but when the catchers came with the dogs, he didn’t have time to hide us.”

“How did you know to come here?”

The man looked exhausted. “Two fellas at the docks told me.”

“Did they tell you their names?” Olivia asked.

“One of ’em did. Logan.”

Mr. Wilson gave Olivia a puzzled look. There was no one named Logan in their network. Could he be a sympathetic dock worker?

Franklin returned, handing the supplies over without seeming to react to the injured man on the floor. Olivia turned to the man. “This may cause you pain. Can you be strong?”

The man nodded. She went to work, using alcohol to clean the wound. Then she made a poultice and applied it. “Try and keep this as clean and dry as you possibly can.”

Walker smiled. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“You are welcome. Unfortunately, you have to stay in your hiding place a little longer.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Walker scooted back under the desk. Mr. Wilson led her toward the front of the store, Franklin a few steps behind them.

“He came during the day?” Olivia asked.

“He was hidin’ in some crates outside the door when I came in this mornin’.”

“Thank God he made it.”

“Problem is …” Mr. Wilson stopped at the curtain and lowered his voice. “He brought a slave catcher with him. I already sent a letter to Mr. Still.”

“It is not as if there weren’t slave catchers around before.” Olivia tried to inject optimism into her voice.

“True. However, somethin’ ain’t right.”

“How so?”

“Beulah and the baby. When I went to meet Mr. Lloyd, who assisted them through Maryland, he was takin’ a short rest in the back of the wagon. Beulah wasn’t there. When I woke him, we went lookin’ for her and found her about a half mile away, hidin’ in the trees.”

Olivia frowned. “Did she say why she left the wagon?”

“Mr. Lloyd got her in the wagon and movin’ so fast, she was gone before I could ask. Maybe you could ask her.” Mr. Wilson slowed. “If I know Lloyd, he told her to stay in the wagon under the blankets. No reason for her to hide in the trees.”

“I will speak to her about it.”

“How is she and the baby? That one had me worried,” he said, his tone fatherly.

“Still unwell from their journey. Hope is a bit better now but still too weak to move.”

Mr. Wilson sighed. “We have to believe that everything will work out.”

Olivia touched him on the shoulder. “Believe and pray.”

Mr. Wilson opened the curtain, allowing Olivia to step through. When she did, she had to stop short to avoid running into Henry.

He stepped back in surprise. “Sorry, Mrs. Kingston.”

“Did you need help with somethin’?” Mr. Wilson stepped from behind her.

“Uh … I … yes. I wanted to know if you had any more apples.”

Mr. Wilson looked around. So did Olivia. Had she not just seen Franklin carrying a crate of apples? “I do. Over there.”

“Thank you,” Henry said, rushing away.

Olivia gave Mr. Wilson a quizzical look before lifting her basket from the counter. “I appreciate you showing me the special item. I will let you know what I think of it.”

Mr. Wilson nodded.

Olivia walked as fast as she could back to her house. Helping Walker had kept her from home longer than she planned, but she had to help. She pondered who this Logan could be and how to find out who he was. She put her key in the lock. A chill swept over her neck like a breeze. She turned.

Saunders stood down the street, watching her.

Olivia’s heart plummeted. How far had he followed her? Did he know what she had seen in the back of the Wilsons’ grocery? He was a member of the police patrol, but most free Blacks were sure he was also working for slave catchers. Had she just given him another clue to who she was and what she was doing?

God seemed to have heard Olivia’s prayers concerning Hope, because the baby seemed to be on the mend. She took some broth and a little bread the night before, and Olivia had nearly cried in relief. Hope’s improvement also encouraged Beulah. The lines of worry on her face had grown deeper each day.

This morning, Beulah had asked, “How long before we have to leave?”

Olivia had said, “Soon.”

Beulah had quieted, and Olivia realized what the woman was asking. She sat down beside her on the bed. “I mean, you can stay as long as you and Hope need to recover. I said soon because it appears that Hope is close to being well enough to travel.”

Beulah looked down at the sleeping child. “What if she is still sick when it is time to go?”

“Then you stay here until she is better.”

“I don’t wanna burden you,” Beulah said, her voice quiet.

Olivia grabbed her hand. “You are no burden. Knowing that you and Hope will be free to learn to read one day brings me joy.”

Beulah brightened a bit. “Hard not knowing what comes next. And I am tired.”

“Rest a bit. All will be well.”

She had left them both asleep. Her heart ached. She would have to find a way to cheer Beulah’s spirits.

Olivia had returned to her sewing table when the door opened and a cool draft chilled the room. She shivered. There was a sharpness to the air that felt like snow was coming. She turned in her seat to see who had stepped in. Thea was hastily closing the door.

Olivia tried to smile, but the cold remained and she shivered again. “Thea. What brings you by?”

Thea stepped to the table. “Do you have a customer?”

Olivia glanced at the screen that would have concealed a customer. It was still standing in the corner. “Oh no. I simply forgot to take that down from yesterday.”

“Good,” Thea said. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is the matter?” Olivia motioned for her to sit.

Thea shook her head and glanced behind her. “Something peculiar has happened. I cannot stay. I have to go to the other stationmasters.”

Olivia smoothed out the piece of fabric in front of her. “Is it about the passenger that showed up at your shop?”

“Yes and no.” Thea leaned closer. “He moved on.”

“Where to?” There were a few states that the stationmasters would send fugitives to if they wanted to continue further north. Some were transported all the way to Canada.

“That is the issue. No one knows.”

Olivia pressed her hand to her throat. “Who moved him?”

Thea threw up her hands. “No one I have spoken with knows. I came to you to ask if he came here, seeing as he met you at the shop. Marin and I didn’t think he knew where you lived but took the chance that maybe he had spotted you walking about and asked for assistance.”

“He is not here, and I have not seen him. You went to look for him, and he was gone? Did he say nothing of leaving?”

“No. Nothing. There were only a few people who knew he was at our shop. We sent a note to Mr. Still. Not knowing who this Logan is, we did not know who else to contact.”

“That is odd.”

“Marin thought that too.” Thea rubbed her hands together. “Why would a fugitive leave safety in a place where he knows no one and knows there are slave catchers about?”

“That is very odd indeed.” As long as her home had been a station house, she had never heard of a stationmaster losing a fugitive. There had been a few cases where a slave catcher recovered a fugitive the stationmaster was assisting. In those cases, they knew precisely where the fugitive was. But to lose one without any idea of where he or she had gone? Olivia wrapped her arms around her middle.

“Mr. Gull and Marin believe something is amiss.”

“Amiss how?”

“They are not sure yet, but they will be speaking to Mr. Still today. They thought it might be a good idea to put the other stationmasters on notice.”

“Thankfully, we have extra safety measures in place.”

“I will come back around to tell you about Marin’s meeting with Mr. Still and—” She looked behind her and glanced out the window. “Oh no.”

Olivia shuddered again but not from cold. “What?”

“Saunders is coming.”

Olivia peered out the front window as Saunders started up the steps. Several of the Friends members thought Saunders had discovered some of the key players in their network. She knew he suspected Mr. Still, who was so active on the Vigilance Committee. Olivia had lost count of the days she left Mr. Still’s house and found Saunders watching. But none of the Friends had given Saunders any reason that might confirm his suspicions. And she would keep it that way. Seeing her and Thea here together could help him connect them to the rest of the stationmasters Thea had already visited.

She grabbed Thea’s arm. “Here, get behind the screen.”

Olivia had barely stashed Thea behind the screen before Saunders opened the door.

Olivia relaxed the frown on her face. “Can I help you, sir?”

“Where is the woman I saw come in here?”

Olivia’s heart raced. “What woman?”

“I saw Mrs. Wilson from the grocers come in the door not ten minutes ago. I have business to speak with her about.”

Olivia motioned around the room. “As you can see—”

His face transformed into a sneer. “Where is she?” As he spoke, his eyes shifted around the room. His brows rose when he saw the screen. “Is she behind there?”

Olivia moved between him and the screen. “There is someone behind that screen. Don’t you think it would be wholly improper for you to look?”

Saunders looked at her and then back at the screen. His forehead furrowed with skepticism, but he did stop. “You lie.”

“She is not lying,” an imperious and slightly annoyed high-pitched voice said. “Now, if you are done, I would like to get back to my business without a gentleman present.”

Olivia fought back a grin. She recognized Thea’s voice, but the alarm on Saunders’s face told her that he did not. “My apologies.”

“Don’t apologize. Leave.” Thea’s tone perfectly mimicked many of Olivia’s customers.

Saunders snapped his mouth shut, turned on his heel, and left. Olivia eased to the window, trying to look as unconcerned as possible, to check if he had actually gone. After all, the man did watch the house. She scanned the street, then pulled the shade and locked the front door.

When she turned, Thea was peeking out from behind the screen. “Is he gone?”

“From what I can see.” Olivia laughed. “That was a good ploy.”

“Heaven knows I’ve heard enough of our customers speak to me that way,” Thea said with a chuckle.

“Unfortunately, he may still be out there watching the house where I cannot see him.” Olivia moved to the panel covering the hidden door. “You will have to go out the back.”

Thea nodded, helping her move the panel. “We will have to be extra careful with him snoopin’ about.”

They reached the bottom of the stairs to find Beulah huddled in a corner, clutching baby Hope to her chest. Olivia gave her a reassuring smile. “Please do not be afraid. This is Mrs. Wilson. She is a friend.”

Beulah visibly relaxed and stood. “I didn’t know what to think. Missus doesn’t normally come down during the day.”

“You don’t have to call me missus.” Olivia removed the panel that separated the root cellar from the secret room. “We had some company, and now Mrs. Wilson needs to slip out the back in case he is still watching.”

“Company?”

Thea followed Olivia across the room. “A patrolman.”

Beulah’s eyes grew wide, and she trembled. “Have they come for me?”

“No, no. Please do not worry,” Olivia said, pushing open the double doors of the root cellar. Watery sunlight filled the space, and Beulah shielded her eyes.

Thea hurried up the stairs. “I will send word around about the meeting. We need to solve this puzzle.”

“Please be careful.”

Thea nodded and was gone.

When Olivia turned from closing the door, Beulah was sitting on the cot, Hope pressed to her chest. “What if he comes back?”

“He most likely will.”

Beulah gasped. She scampered onto the cot until her back was against the wall.

Olivia let out a sigh. Not the best choice of words. “What I meant to say was that there are always slave catchers in the area. They know many of the fugitives come through Philadelphia. But you do not need to worry. Our work is secret. We will keep you safe.”

Beulah looked down at Hope, who was sleeping. “But will you be safe?”

Olivia only nodded. She believed she would be, but a note of worry sounded loud in her heart.