Home by Morning by Kaki Warner Page A

know his store was being used by the Underground Railroad. The people in the organization were all quite secretive . . . which was probably why they had been successful for so long.
    Thomas and Lillie were waiting on the bench. Thomas, eyes closed, his head tipped back to the warm sunshine—Lillie, licking the last smear of peppermint from her glove. Pru walked toward them.
    â€œI’ll have to come back in an hour for my purchase,” she said, stopping before them. “It’s a gift, so I’m having it wrapped.”
    Lillie stopped licking. “A present? Fo’ me?”
    â€œNot this time.” Pru glanced at Thomas, but he was studying the road behind them. Smiling down into the child’s sticky face, she said, “But I hear they have a collection of musical snuff boxes at the Clockworks Store. Would you like to go listen to them?”
    Lillie bounced off the bench. “Oh, yes! I hear one once. It sound like angels playin’ they harps.”
    It did sound like angels. And was apparently just as rare: the owner of the store hovered nervously nearby as Lillie listened to each music box twice, her face the picture of awed delight. Pru didn’t know what worried the poor man more—the idea that the blind child would knock one of the precious boxes from the counter, or having Thomas staring at him.
    From the Clockworks Store, they went on to the General Merchandize Emporium. Leaving Thomas studying the knives and guns in a glass-faced cabinet by the front counter, Pru and Lillie went to the small selection of toys at the back of the store. She knew she was spoiling the girl, but the minute Lillie’s hand fell on a yarn-haired rag doll, Pru had to buy it for her.
    â€œDaddy,” the girl shouted, waving the doll overhead as they returned to the front. “A doll! Of my very own. I think I call her Miss Minty. That a good name?”
    â€œ
Epeva’e.
It is good.”
    â€œYes, a very good name.” Pru hoped the child was naming the doll for Araminta—Minty—Ross, later called Harriet Tubman—rather than a peppermint stick.
    When they stepped back onto the street, Lillie grinning and clutching her new doll tightly to her chest, Pru checked the watch pinned on the inside of her coat. Over an hour had passed, so her package should be ready. If all had gone well, she would find an answer to her note waiting for her, too.
    This time all three of them went into the bookstore. Leaving Thomas and Lillie at the front, Pru went to the cases in back. There, in the history book, she found scribbled directions to the barn of a Quaker family on the outskirts of Westfield, a town twenty-five miles north of Indianapolis. With lawmen hunting Mose, taking the real train would be out of the question, so two horses would be waiting at the previous night’s meeting place.
“Nine o’clock,”
the note read.
“A fresh horse will be supplied for the return trip. Go thee with God.”
    As instructed previously, Pru dropped the shredded note into the coal stove by the rear wall before going back to the front. After picking up her book and thanking the shopkeeper, she and Thomas and Lillie headed back to the Beckworth Arms.
    While Lillie kept up a running monologue with Miss Minty, Pru relayed to Thomas what was in the note. “How long will it take?” A fifty-mile round trip seemed a huge distance on horseback.
    â€œThe horses will need water and rest along the way. One day. Maybe more.”
    â€œAssuming there are no problems.”
    â€œThere will be no problems.”
    â€œIf you don’t leave until nine tonight, that means you might miss the fund-raiser tomorrow night.”
    He shrugged.
    Considering the tension between Thomas and Marsh, that was probably a good thing. And hopefully, by the time hereturned, it would all be over, and the next morning they would be on their way to Heartbreak Creek.
    One more day. Then