Comfort woke twice more that night to feed, and each time the girl was asleep. When the rising sun at last woke Honor, the girl had gone.
Down in the kitchen, Belle was frying griddle cakes and bacon-far more than the two of them could eat. She nodded toward the hole. “Little girl’s doing better. She almost smiled at me.” She piled the griddle cakes and bacon onto a plate and pushed it through the hole.
After breakfast Belle went out without saying where she was going, leaving Honor to mind the shop. On her return she handed Honor a wine-colored dress. “Customer wants the hem and sleeves let out.”
All day, as Honor sewed-first the dress, then a child’s skirt-she thought about the three runaways crammed into the small space behind the woodpile. It would be dark and uncomfortable, the wood offering little other than splinters and mice. Yet perhaps it was better than hiding in the cold woods.
Belle was in an overbright mood, displaying a nervous energy as she helped customers try on bonnets, removed flowers that were too summery for the growing cold, added tartan ribbons or feathers, measured for winter linings. When it was quiet, she worked at the table in the corner, sewing yellow netting onto the brown felt hat she had been stretching. Now and then she went to the window to glance out.
When Honor handed her the altered clothes, she noticed Belle was holding a familiar gray bonnet: she had replaced the worn yellow ribbons with a much wider gray ribbon that went round the crown and when tied pulled the brim close around the face. She had also added a row of white lace to the brim, hiding the yellow lining. It was now far too fancy for Honor to wear-or indeed Virginie. No black woman wore something so decorative.
Honor widened her eyes. Belle shrugged and hummed under her breath; Honor recognized it as the tune Virginie had sung to Comfort the night before. “Is that a hymn?”
“No, just a song you hear in the fields in the South. Negroes sing it to keep themselves goin’.”
Late in the day, when Belle was lighting lamps, three women came into the shop, accompanied by several young girls. “Look after ’em, Honor,” Belle said, heading to the kitchen. “I’ll be back.”
Honor stared after her, surprised that she would hurry away from such a large group. The women and girls were lively, trying on so many different hats and bonnets that she could not keep up with replacing them. In the middle of it, Comfort began to cry in her cradle. Before Honor could get to her one of the older girls had picked her up and went jigging around the shop. Comfort stopped crying with the novelty of it all, and the other girls gathered around the baby. There seemed to be more of them now, and they clattered and laughed and played around Honor’s daughter.
In the distance the train whistle sounded, cutting through the noise. “C’mon, girls, time to go,” one of the women called. Immediately the girl handed Comfort over and grabbed the hand of one of the younger ones. The others found partners and linked arms. As they passed through the door one of the smaller girls wearing a wide-brimmed bonnet and a shawl around her neck and chin turned to peek at Honor. It was one of Virginie’s twins, though only a strip of her dark skin was showing. In the dusk outside, her arm linked through another’s, she would be indistinguishable. Honor smiled at her, but the girl looked too terrified to speak.
The other twin left as well, bundled along with the rest of the group, and suddenly it was quiet. Only a woman remained behind. Then Belle was back in the room, pulling Virginie behind her. The runaway was transformed by the burgundy dress and a shawl, the gray and yellow bonnet tied tight under her chin so that from the side her face was hidden. You could only see her if you looked head-on.
“No time to wait,” Belle said. “Town’s out to meet the train. Go out and cry, ‘Wait up, ladies!’ and run after ’em. Act like you goin’ to see the train. He’s across the street, watchin’, so you got to be bold.”
Virginie squeezed Belle’s arm. “Thankee.”
Belle laughed. “All in a day’s work, honey. Off you go, now. If you’re lucky I won’t see you again!”
“God go with thee, Virginie,” Honor added. “And thy girls.”
Virginie nodded, then ducked out of the door after the other woman.
“Come back away from the window,” Belle commanded. “Can’t have Donovan see us takin’ an interest or he’ll get suspicious.”
The door opened then and another Wellington woman entered. “I ain’t too late, am I?” she asked. “I just need a new ribbon for my bonnet.”
“We’ll stay open for you,” Belle said. “Honor, you put all these bonnets back, will you? Those girls just now made the biggest mess.”
Honor stacked bonnets one-handed, bouncing Comfort with the other. Her heart was pounding. She ached to look out and see whether Donovan had followed the women, but knew she could not.
Ten minutes later Belle showed the customer to the door, then she turned the lock and began shuttering the windows. “He’s gone,” she announced, “though whether he’s gone after the women I just don’t know. Could’ve gone inside the bar for an evening whiskey. God knows I could use one. In fact…” Belle made her way to the kitchen, where she poured out a fingerful of whiskey and drank it in one gulp.
Honor watched from the doorway. “Is it always this difficult?”
“Naw.” Belle slammed down the glass. “Lot of times he don’t even know they’re passin’ through. And he prefers to catch ’em in the open. He’s more at home out in the woods or on the roads than in a hat shop. But now you’re here he’s sniffin’ ’round more, even if he ain’t ridin’ up and down the street in front of the shop like he did before. Can’t hide people so easily with all that happenin’.”
“I am putting the runaways in more danger.” Honor stated what was now so obvious she should have realized it weeks ago.
Belle shrugged. “I sent word they shouldn’t come this way for a time, so we ain’t had any while you’ve been here, ’cept Virginie, and she been here before.”
Honor shuddered. Virginie and her daughters could have been caught because she remained at Belle’s, frozen with indecision. Indeed, other runaways could be caught because they were taking other routes to avoid Wellington. Belle had not complained about Honor staying with her, but clearly it had consequences.
The next day a boy came by to say that the runaways had left town safely, and were on their way to Oberlin. Belle celebrated with another whiskey.
It was the last First Day before Honor must return to the Haymakers or be disowned by Faithwell Friends. The shop was closed, and Belle was sleeping in, having stayed up much of the night with a whiskey bottle. In that way she resembled her brother. Like the first time Honor stayed with her, Belle was not going to church. “God and I gonna have a long talk when I meet Him,” she said. “Set things right then.” She made it sound as if such a meeting would not be long in coming. Honor’s stomach tightened at the thought.
She looked in on Belle now. Her friend was sleeping on her back, her bony frame outlined under a ragged quilt in an Ohio Star pattern, with squares and triangles making up eight-pointed stars in red and brown. Honor had offered to repair the tears in the seams, but Belle had shrugged. “Waste of time,” she’d said, without explaining further. In sleep her face was sunken even more, leaving her cheekbones exposed, the skin pulled over bone that seemed almost visible. Her yellow skin had gone gray. She could be lying in a coffin. Honor caught back a sob, and backed out of the room.
She went down to the kitchen and stood at the range, staring into the corn mush she had made for their breakfast. She had been up three hours already, roused by Comfort, and was waiting for Belle to wake and eat. Though Belle ate even less these days, Honor liked to have the company. Now, though, having seen the state of her companion, she was no longer hungry. She pushed the pot to the back of the range and placed a plate over it to keep it warm.