I felt my heart racing. Shaking, I continued on my way to the post office. As I walked through the door, the dried lavender wreath sent a burst of fragrance into the air.

  “Good afternoon, Willa,” Mrs. Milner said.

  “Oh!” I said. “I didn’t expect you here.”

  She smiled. “I’ve been filling in for my husband while he is away on business. What can I help you with?”

  Mrs. Irene Milner was a short, plump woman with the brightest golden hair I had ever seen. It was the perfect color for a cheerful woman. I didn’t believe I had ever seen the postmaster’s wife so much as frown.

  “I’d like to pick up the Dickinson family mail.”

  She nodded. “It will just take me a second. Most people don’t believe it, but I know this post office just as well as my husband does. Who do you think keeps it so clean and tidy?” she asked with a chuckle and disappeared into the back room.

  While Mrs. Milner was gone, I peeked out the window. The old men on the benches were there chatting away, but they were the only ones I saw. I half expected Catherine, or worse her brothers, to be waiting outside to reprimand me again.

  “I just have one letter for you. It’s addressed to a Miss O’Brien and appears to be in Miss Dickinson’s hand. It came all the way from Washington.” She smiled and handed me the letter. “I did not know until Arthur left that the Dickinson family would be in Washington the same time as my husband. I asked him in a letter if he ran into the family, but in the following letter, he said he did not.”

  I frowned, but we had seen Mr. Milner in Washington. I shook my head. He must have received the letter and replied before he saw any Dickinsons in the city.

  “I just got back from Washington myself. I went to help the family but came home early to help Miss O’Brien with the spring cleaning.”

  “I can imagine that is a big job in such a large home.” Her cheeks pinkened. “I can barely care for this office and our tiny house behind it. I could not do the cleaning that is required of you and Miss O’Brien.”

  I smiled. “While I was in Washington, the Dickinsons had a dinner party and invited everyone from Amherst who was in the city. Mr. Milner was there as were Mr. Johnson and Officer Matthew Thomas.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “My, that must have been an interesting group. Arthur must have replied to my letter before the party. I will be sure to ask Arthur about it when he gets home. I love hearing about his travels. I wished that I could go with him, but someone must always stay back and care for the mail. The mail doesn’t stop for travel.”

  “Does he travel often?”

  “Just a few times a year, and it seems to me he always goes south. He says there’s a lot of work to be done in the postal service in Southern states. I really don’t know much about it. Arthur is always tired when he gets home from his trips and doesn’t speak much on them.”

  I nodded and thanked her for the letter.

  “Willa, before you go.”

  My hand was on the doorknob, and I turned to face her.

  “I just wanted to say that both Arthur and I are so sorry about what happened to Henry. It’s such a terrible loss. There were many times I would hear he and my husband talk about their plans of moving west. They were both dreamers in that way and had that dream in common.”

  “Mr. Milner wanted to move west?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Very much so. I am not keen on the idea. I like the civilized life here in Amherst, but when the time comes I will have to follow my husband, won’t I? I don’t have any choice in the matter.”

  My heart constricted. I supposed that she didn’t.

  “Anyway, I wanted to share my condolences and tell you I know that Arthur misses talking to Henry about their dreams. Henry was a fine young man. A bit of a troublemaker.” Her eyes smiled at me. “But a fine and good young man.”

  “Thank you,” I murmured and slipped out through the door.

  I arrived back at the Dickinson home with the letter from Emily telling Margaret that I would be coming home early. I went into the house through the servants’ entrance and found Margaret in the dining room polishing every single vase that the Dickinsons had in their collection. The entire table was covered with vases in every size and color.

  Margaret jumped when I walked into the room. “Good heavens! You gave me a shock. What are you doing here?”

  Carlo hopped up from his spot on the rug and looked behind me. He whimpered.

  “I’m sorry, Carlo. Miss Dickinson didn’t come home with me.”

  The large dog sighed and shuffled back to his spot on the rug, lay down again, and flopped his large head onto his crossed paws.

  Margaret put the vase she was holding down. “Why are you here?”

  I held out the letter. “This will explain things, but I believe all it says is that they sent me back early because they knew you needed help with spring cleaning.”

  She looked surprised. “They thought I would need help?” She put a hand to her chest. “I never thought that would occur to them. I never thought they would ever think of what I might need.” She blinked back tears as if she was truly touched. I would never tell her Emily’s true motive for sending me back early.

  My heart swelled with compassion for Margaret. She had been left behind to work day and night while the family and I were gone. Had she taken any time to rest at all? How would anyone know if she snuck in a nap here or there while the house was empty?

  I set my carpetbag on the floor, removed my cloak, and hung it on the back of a chair. “Let me finish here. You go make yourself a cup of tea and put your feet up.”

  “I—I don’t know what to say . . .” Her Irish accent was thicker than ever with emotion.

  “Say yes. You can come back and check my work before we put the vases away.”

  She stood up and hurried out of the room as if she was afraid I would change my mind. And with Carlo by my side, I got to work.

  By the time Margaret returned, I had polished all of the vases until I could see my face in them, and Miss Lavinia’s four cats were lying around the dining room each in their own ray of sunshine. Carlo’s large head was on my feet.

  “My,” Margaret said. “You work quickly.” She picked up a vase. “And well. These are ready to be put away. The ones we use in the winter months can be packed right away. We will not use them in this house again. The family will be moved before winter comes. After you do that, you can get yourself settled from your travel until it’s time for supper.”

  I thanked her, and after I put away all the vases in various chests and cabinets around the house and packed the few winter vases into a crate to move to the home on Main Street, I went up to my little room in the servants’ quarters. I sighed with relief when I sat on my bed. It had been a very long trip from Washington and an equally long day when I arrived back in Amherst.

  The first thing I did was remove Henry’s diary from my carpetbag and tuck it between the wall and the bed for safekeeping. I didn’t know what else I could glean from the little book, but I wanted to keep it close. Tomorrow, under Emily’s direction, I would begin my investigation.

  * * *

  —

  I’d hoped to go to town and start asking questions the next day, but Margaret had other plans. She put me through my paces as I removed everything from the kitchen cupboards, scrubbed them out, and polished the wood with oil soap before putting all the dishes, pots, pans, and countless utensils back where they belonged.

  Part of me wished that I could just put them all in packing crates right then to move to the house on Main Street, but it would not be for several months that the house, in the middle of renovations, would be ready for the family, so back into the cupboard everything went.

  On the third day I was home, Margaret sent me to the general store for more lye so that we could make soap. I was relieved to be given the task and the ability to go outside.

  In the time that I had been in Washington, the weather in Amherst had taken a turn. There was still a chill in the air, but there was also a freshness to the breeze. Trees began to bud, and crocuses at the edge of gardens and around the base of the trees bloomed. While the small crocus blossoms came into their full bloom, the daffodils and hyacinths just began to poke their bright green heads out of the ground. Spring was on the way.

  As spring brought new life, it was difficult for me to fathom that my brother had been gone for well over a month now. And other than knowing that our prime suspect, Mr. Elmer Johnson, was actually Henry’s employer and had nothing to do with my brother’s death, Emily and I had learned very little that would give us answers.

  I decided that before I bought the lye, I would go to the post office and see if I could learn anything from the old men who sat outside of it.

  Emily asked me to write her and tell her how the investigation was going, but as of yet, I had nothing to report. I hoped that I would be able to change that this afternoon and send her a letter.

  As I walked down the sidewalk, I heard the old men’s laughter long before I saw them on the benches outside of the post office. It seemed that they were enjoying the turn in the weather to more springlike days.

  “Well, if it’s not the great traveler who is back in our midst,” a gravelly voice called.

  I looked over my shoulder to see if the old man sitting on a makeshift bench outside of the Amherst Post Office was speaking to me.

  “Yes, Willa, I’m talking to you. Don’t go looking over your shoulder like there is someone else there.”

  I stopped in front of the three men. “You know my name?”

  “Course we do,” the second man said. “Amherst is really a small town.”

  I recognized him as the man with the yellow mittens I had seen when I came to the post office with Emily weeks ago. “And what is your name?”

  “I thought you would never ask,” he replied. “I’m Holden, and my esteemed friends are Salinger and Beard.”

  Beard had a long silver beard and brought the story of Rip Van Winkle to mind, so it wasn’t difficult to know where his name came from.

  “We were all fond of Henry,” Beard said.

  Tears sprang to my eyes, and I turned toward the street to blink them away. “Did you know my brother well?”

  “Quite well,” Holden said. “He stopped by often to collect all the news of the day from us. He knew we were the ones who were really aware of what was happening in Amherst. We know you have been to Washington. There are no secrets in this town as far as we are concerned. We especially know the comings and goings of the Dickinson family. They will be in Philadelphia for several weeks, is that not true?”

  I didn’t answer his question. I would not gossip about my employer.

  Besides, Holden and his friends might like to think they knew about the Dickinson family, but the longer I worked for the family, the more I learned that they were champions at keeping their own secrets and they were much more complicated than anyone outside of their household could ever possibly know.

  “You said my brother enjoyed gossip. What did he ask you about?”

  Beard folded his arms. “He was always trying to learn what he could about the slave catchers in town. I can’t say we ever knew enough to satisfy him. He was always looking for more.”

  “I think he was concerned because he was good friends with the Black stable hand Jeremiah York. Somehow he got it in his head that Jeremiah was in danger.”

  “But Jeremiah is free,” I said.

  “Doesn’t mean he’s out of the woods,” Holden said with a shake of his head. “I hate to say it, but he will always have to be on his guard. It’s just the way of the world.”

  “Then the way of the world is wrong,” I said with folded arms.

  “Not much you can hope to do about it. You are a servant and a woman.”

  I dropped my hands to my sides and then let out a breath. “Was there anything in particular that he was asking pertaining to the slave catcher?”

  “Who he was in contact with. That was the main concern. Henry wanted to know who was welcoming to the catcher and who chased him off.”

  “And did you have an answer for that?”

  “Not to his liking.”

  I frowned and wanted to ask more about this, but Beard spoke up. “Your brother’s ways got him in trouble. Do you think the slave catcher or his employer would sit by while a young man asked prying questions?” He clicked his tongue.

  Holden frowned at his friend. “It’s not right to blame Henry. He did nothing wrong.”

  I swallowed. “Thank you for saying that. I’m afraid that Henry will be remembered as being a troublemaker, which he could be from time to time, but my dear brother was much more than that.”

  “He was a visionary,” Holden said. “He should not have been born in this time. He was meant for a much later date in this world. Perhaps that is why the good Lord took him so early. He knew he put Henry in the wrong time and place.”

  I bit down hard on the side of my cheek to keep myself from crying. When I had composed myself, I asked, “Did you ever tell Henry who the slave catcher was talking to?”

  “We told him what we knew, which wasn’t much. The slave catcher was definitely bankrolling someone for information. I saw him drop money near the Amherst Library,” Salinger said.

  Holden folded his arm. “You never told us that.”

  “You never asked, and it’s difficult to get a word in edgewise where you’re concerned.”

  Holden grunted.

  “How do you know it was money he dropped?” I asked.

  Salinger turned to me. “Because I looked. I saw him drop the bag and I wanted to see what was inside of it. After he left, I walked over and inspected the bag. It was full of cash.”

  “Did you take any of it?” Beard wanted to know.

  “Are you insane? I don’t want a slave catcher with my name on his list. Those men are a different kind of mean.”

  I bit the inside of my lip. It sounded to me with the dropping of the money that the slave catcher didn’t even know who the Reader was. I guessed that this would make it even more difficult to find my brother’s killer.

  I thanked the men and decided to go into the post office. Perhaps there were packages or letters for the Dickinson family that I could take home after I stopped at the general store for Margaret’s lye.

  The bell above the door rang when I went inside. Mr. Milner looked up from a box he was tying with string. “Willa, it’s so good to see you.”

  I smiled. “Is there any mail for the Dickinson household? I was walking by and thought I would stop.”

  “There is, in fact, some,” he said. “The mail carrier was going to take it out this afternoon, but I will give it to you and save him the trip. Wait right here.” He went into the back room.

  A moment later, he returned with a sheath of letters and a small box. “This is all I have for them.”

  I accepted the letters and box. “Thank you.”

  “It was quite interesting to see you in Washington. Did you have a nice time?”

  I thought about the trip to Washington. Overall, I would have called it a unique experience. “I did enjoy seeing the city, and Mount Vernon was very impressive.”

  He laughed as he organized a stack of letters on his counter. He worked so fast, he barely looked at them. It was almost as if by feel he knew where the letters were headed. “That was a very political answer of you. It seems that you learned quite a bit in the capital. Please tell Miss Dickinson when she returns that I look forward to seeing her again.”

  I turned to go, but then I stopped myself. There was a question that was nagging at me, and with no one else in the post office, this might be my only chance to ask it. “Mr. Milner, did you enjoy the Dickinsons’ dinner party?”

  “Very much, but I had to leave early. My conference ended early, so I decided to take the next train home. There were many things I learned during the lectures that I want to implement here in Amherst, so I was eager to get back.”

  “Did Em—Miss Dickinson have a chance to speak with you at all the evening of the party?”

  His face turned red. “I’m afraid not. She had left the dining room and had not returned by the time I had to leave.”

  That was becuase she was with me following Mr. Johnson, but I made a point of not saying that aloud.

  “Please give her my apologies. The last thing in the world I want to do is insult such a prominent family. Edward Dickinson has been a great champion of the town and of the post office in particular.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “Without him, we would only have mail delivery once a day from outside the town. Now, we have it twice a day. Citizens receive this mail quicker because of him, and I’m grateful for that.”

  I held up the stack of letters. “Thank you for the mail.”

  “You’re welcome, Willa. Remember, working for the Dickinsons is an honor. Do not ruin it.”

  I nodded and left the post office. How did he think I would ruin working for the Dickinson family? I felt more confused leaving the post office than I had when I’d entered it.

  I was so perplexed over my conversation with Mr. Milner, I didn’t even wave to Holden and his friends when I walked by. I vaguely heard their complaints about my not saying goodbye. They would remind me of the slight when I saw them again, this much I knew. Even so, I was too distracted to give it much thought.

  I wished that Emily was home, and that I could tell her what I learned. I seemed to be very good at gathering information. And she was very good at deciphering what I gathered to find out what it really meant. When we were apart, the investigation was quite challenging. It would be another fortnight before she was home.