Page 91 of Because I Could Not Stop for Death

“I suspected that Henry figured out it was me the night that I went to the stables. That morning before light, I received word that slaves were to come to the post office for direction to the next station. They never came, and by midday, I learned they had gone another route. Someone had gotten the word to them that the post office should be avoided. I knew it must be Henry. I knew he was asking questions around town. I was furious. If I didn’t direct them to the slave catcher, I was paid nothing. I had worked too long and too hard for Henry to take this from me. I thought my best choice was to get rid of him before he could tell anyone else.”

I struggled to my feet and rested my hand on Terror’s side for support as I stood.

Mr.Milner didn’t even seem to notice as he was too wrapped up in his story. “Getting rid of your brother was harder than I expected. He was never alone. My only option was to see him at night in the stables. To say he was surprised to see me that night is an understatement. He greeted me warmly like we were old friends, but I saw the wariness in his eyes. He knew who I really was and he was afraid.”

My heart thundered in my chest, and it pained me to hear how devious Mr.Milner could be. In my mind, for so long, he had been a friendly face. He was a person who chatted with the townspeople on a daily basis, appearing to be the congenial postmaster of a small town. All the while, he had been trapping runaways by guiding them into the slave catchers’ grasp for the money so he could start a new life. He stole their chances at a new life for his own? There was nothing redeemable about what he had done.

Mr.Milner leaned over the stall holding out the hot poker. He pointed it at Terror. Frantically, I looked around the stall for something to throw at him. The only thing in the stall was Terror’s food trough, and I knew I would not be able to pick it up.

Mr.Milner leaned farther into the stall. The hot poker was just inches from Terror’s shoulder now. As foolish as it was, I stepped between the horse and the poker. I would not stand by while this animal that had endured so much already was harmed again. I could not stand by while any innocent life was endangered if I had the power to stop it.

Suddenly, Mr.Milner jerked and cried out.

The poker fell to the ground in the stall with Terror and me just inches from my feet. I kicked dirt onto it, and then I threw open the gate. I grabbed Terror by the bridle and walked him through. The horse was breathing heavily, but other than that he appeared to be all right.

In the dim lantern light, I saw Emily holding a shovel over Mr.Milner’s unconscious body.

“He hit you on the head,” she said. “It seemed only right for me to return the favor.”

I stared at her. “But... what? How?”

She laughed. “When you were struck and pulled into the barn, I jumped back. I don’t think he realized that I was there. I ran to the big house for help, but no one was home.”

“Jeremiah and Mr.Johnson were conductors tonight.”

She nodded. “That’s what I surmised, so I believed I had no choice but to take saving you into my own hands.” She shrugged as if this was the obvious conclusion. “And I have.” She looked down at Mr.Milner. “I hit him quite hard. He will be out for a little bit.”

There was yelling outside the stables.

“Police!” a voice cried.

“It seemed that your Matthew got my note after all,” Emily said with a grin. “It’s always amusing when the menfolk run in ready to save the day.”

I groaned and held tight to Terror’s bridle. “He’s not my Matthew.”

She leaned on the handle of the shovel and laughed.

Epilogue

Spring gave way to summer, and Emily had been able to convince Margaret to let me help her in the garden more often. I was grateful for the chance even if it meant more dusting around the home under Margaret’s direction.

I deadheaded a row of zinnias so that they would bloom again that season. I glanced at the back pasture behind the garden and smiled as I saw Terror nibbling on the grass. Emily had convinced her father to buy the horse after all. Although Mr.Johnson was so grateful that we captured the Reader that he practically gave the horse to the Dickinson family. He asked for little more than the cost of a case of flour for the creature.

He was a beautiful horse and fully recovered from his troubles. He ate with gusto again and filled out to his once majestic size. His sides, though scarred, were healed. I wasn’t completely healed myself from what happened to Henry or in the barn that night with Mr.Milner, but my own scar was beginning to form.

Mr.Milner was in prison awaiting trial for my brother’s murder. I was happy about that. I had sympathy for his wife. She left Amherst soon after her husband was arrested. I heard she went to live with her sister in Boston. I hope that she could find the happiness she always had again.

Emily walked through the garden with a pair of scissors as she collected blossoms for a bouquet and nodded approvingly at me. “You always know what needs to be done when it comes to the garden, Willa. I must say that it comes as a great relief that I don’t have to train you.”

“My mother loved to garden, and I learned from her.” A happy memory of my mother filled my mind instead of a sad one for once.

She nodded. “She was a good teacher. I think she was a good teacher to you in a great many things.”

I stopped snapping off dead, withered blossoms. “What do you mean?”

Emily considered this for a moment. “My opinion about a person rarely changes, and that is true in you as well.”

I put a hand on my chest. “Me?”

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