It is best for now, then, if thee writes to me at Belle’s. I do not know where I will be in four months by the time this letter reaches thee and thee writes back. But Belle will know where I am.
Be patient with me, Biddy. With God’s will may we meet again.
Thy faithful friend,
Honor
Ohio Star
ONE MORNING AN older woman Honor had not seen before came into the shop. “Thomas is making a delivery tomorrow afternoon,” she told Belle. “Big one. Make sure you got the space.”
Belle nodded. “Thankee, Mary,” she said around the pins in her mouth, for she was attaching ruffles to a burgundy bonnet.
“Got both logs and kindling for you. That all right?”
“Course. How’s that li’l granddaughter o’ yours? Go on, take one o’ them ribbons for her hair. Girl always likes a new ribbon.”
“Thankee. You mind if I take two?” The woman chose two red ribbons from a basket on the counter. She hesitated at the door. “You all right, Belle? You’re mighty thin these days.”
“Tapeworm. It’ll pass.”
Honor looked up from her usual position, in the rocker feeding Comfort. The bones in Belle’s triangular face were even more pronounced, so that her hazel eyes blazed above the balls of her cheekbones.
“Belle-” she began when the woman had left.
“No questions,” Belle interrupted. “Usually I can count on you to keep quiet. Stick to that now. You done there?”
Honor nodded.
“Good. You mind the shop a little while-I got to make room for the wood coming.” She disappeared before Honor could be sure Comfort would not wake when she transferred her from her arms to the cradle. Perhaps Comfort sensed Belle’s no-nonsense attitude, for she remained asleep. Honor was able to serve the string of customers who appeared over the next hour while Belle was rearranging the wood still left in the lean-to. She also made several trips upstairs, which surprised Honor, though she knew better than to ask why.
Late the next afternoon, as it was growing dark and Belle was lighting lamps, a man appeared with a wagon full of wood. When he came in to greet Belle, he nodded at Honor, and she recognized him as the old man who had brought her from Hudson over a year ago. “Got yourself a little one, I hear,” Thomas said. “That’s good.”
Honor smiled. “Yes, it is.”
Belle took Thomas out back while Honor remained with the two customers in the store: a young woman and her mother dithering over wool linings for their winter bonnets. Finally they chose and paid. The moment they left, Thomas came back out and went to run his wagon around the back.
“I’ll just be helping with the wood,” Belle said. “Any customers come, you look after them. Keep ’em occupied.” She held Honor’s gaze a moment, then turned and hurried through the kitchen and out of the back door.
She had hardly gone before Donovan’s horse was heard trotting up the street. Then Honor understood. She closed her eyes and prayed that he would not stop.
He did. She watched from the window as he threw his reins over the hitching post. “Where’s Belle?” he demanded as he entered, his eyes flicking over Comfort in her cradle before they settled on Honor.
“She is out back, seeing to a delivery of wood.”
A woman passed along the boards outside, slowing to study the bonnets in the window. Please come in, Honor thought. Please. But she moved on; darkness was not the time for a woman to be out.
“Is she, now? Well, darlin’, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just have a look, make sure she ain’t gettin’ a load o’ green wood.” Donovan stepped around her and strode toward the kitchen.
“Donovan-”
He stopped. “What?”
She had to keep him with her somehow, so that he would not go back to the lean-to.
“I have always-I have always wanted to thank thee for helping me that night. In the woods, with the black man.”
Donovan snorted. “Didn’t help none-nigger was dead, wasn’t he? Not much use to you or me.”
“But thee found me when I was on the road, in the dark. I do not know what I would have done if thee had not come.” Though she did not speak of it, she was making herself remember the feeling she’d had with him that night, that brief moment when they’d shared a closeness. By recalling it she hoped he would too, and break off his focus on what was happening at the back of the house. “I wish,” she added, “thee would change thy ways.”
“Would that make any difference?”
Before Honor could answer, Comfort let out the little cry that signaled she would soon wake.
Donovan grimaced. “It wouldn’t, would it? Not now.” He turned and headed back to Belle.
Honor rocked the cradle, hoping the movement might send Comfort back to sleep. It did not, however, and she picked up the baby and put her over her shoulder, walking around the room and patting her back. At the same time she listened out for what might be taking place by the wood.
A few minutes later Belle reappeared, her arms full of logs, which she dropped in the box by the stove. Donovan was following her. “Donovan, no brother should let his sister bring in wood without carrying some himself. What the hell’s the matter with you? People like Honor here got a low enough opinion of you without you makin’ it worse by bein’ so ungentlemanly.” She squatted and began arranging the wood. “You gonna bring in another load or do I have to do all the work myself?”
Donovan frowned, then went back the way he’d come. He must be younger than Belle, Honor thought, reminded of the natural authority her older brothers had held over her and Grace.
Belle opened the stove and added another log, though the fire didn’t need it: there would be no more customers for the day and they would move to the kitchen fire. It was this unnecessary action that told Honor Belle was nervous.
Donovan came back with a stack of wood, Thomas behind him.
“That should see you up to Christmas, Belle,” Thomas said. “Though I’ll top it up when I’m in town, if you like.”
“Thankee, Thomas. What do I owe you?” While Belle and Thomas went over to the counter to settle up, Donovan began stacking the wood on top of what his sister had brought in. Comfort’s eyes had begun to focus and she followed his movements over Honor’s shoulder. This seemed to bother Donovan, and he hurried to finish. As Thomas was leaving through the kitchen to go back to his wagon, Donovan stood up and made a move toward the front door.
“You want some coffee before you go, Donovan?” Belle said, sounding amused.
“I’ll just scare off your customers. You watch yourself, Belle, Honor. I ain’t through here.” He banged the door behind him.
Belle chuckled. “That baby sure spooks him more’n anything else can. She should stay here all the time. That would keep him away, like a lucky charm.” She kissed the top of Comfort’s head, dusted with wispy white-blond hair. It was rare for her to show the baby affection.
They listened to Donovan’s horse clop away. “Honor, go to the window and check he’s ridin’ it,” Belle said. “He’s tried that one before.”
Honor looked, and recognized his tall silhouette slumped in the saddle. She watched till he was out of sight. “He’s gone.”
“Good. Now, you stay there, and make sure he don’t come back.” Belle hurried to the back of the house. A few minutes later Honor saw Thomas’s wagon go past, rattling now it was empty of its load of wood.