ALETA WAS YOUNG AND WASN’T REALLY AWARE of the implications of what was happening, but as the day wore on Katie grew more and more worried about me. She knew that the more time that passed, the worse the outcome was likely to be.
Emma sensed it too. Katie said she was quieter and more thoughtful all that day. She knew they were looking for her and that whatever was happening to me was on account of her.
Slowly the day passed, then the evening, and finally they went to bed again, more worried than ever about me.
The next morning after they’d eaten breakfast, Emma said she was going to go outside and take a bath.
“Can I hold William?” asked Aleta.
Emma looked at her in surprise.
“I reckon so, Miz Aleta. He probably be ’bout ready fer sleep. His tummy’s full er milk.”
“Can I take him into the parlor and rock him in the rocking chair?”
“Yes’m, Miz Aleta. Dat be fine. Jes’ put a towel under him in case he make a mess from one end or da other.”
Katie went out with Emma to help her get the water to bathe in the washtub. When she was finished and drying up, Katie went back into the house. As she entered the kitchen she heard the soft sound of singing coming from the parlor. Slowly she stole across the kitchen floor to the door.
There sat Aleta slowly rocking
William and quietly singing.
“Day is dying in the west, angels watching over me, my Lord.
Sleep my child and take your rest, angels watching over me.
All night, all day … angels watching over me, my Lord.
All night, all day … angels watching over me.
Now I lay me down to sleep, angels watching over me, my Lord.
Pray the Lord my soul to keep, angels watching over me.
All night, all day … angels watching over me, my Lord.
All night, all day … angels watching over me.”
Slowly Katie walked into the room.
“Where did you learn that?” she asked.
“Mayme taught it to me.”
“It was beautiful, Aleta. William must like it too—he’s sound asleep.”
Katie sat down and began humming the tune again, and in another minute they were both quietly singing it together.
A few minutes later they heard the sound of Emma’s footsteps. Before she was even into the room, she was humming along in high harmony. When she saw her little son sleeping in Aleta’s lap, she said a surge of motherly affection went through her heart like she’d never felt before.
She sat down and slowly the song came to an end and the room grew quiet. It was Emma who first broke the silence.
“We got ter do sumfin ’bout poor Mayme, Miz Katie,” she said.
“I don’t know what to do, Emma.”
“But we got to, Miz Katie. I don’ think we can do dis alone, ’cause I ain’t like Mayme. I can’t do things like she can. You an’ she’s always havin’ ter take care er me, an’ I ain’t smart like the two er you an’ I’m feared sumfin sick ob what’s ter become ob us if Mayme don’ come back. Yer real smart, Miz Katie, an’ yer so good ter me, but I ain’t gwine be much help like you need.”
“You’ve been a big help, Emma,” said Katie. “And you’re learning to do more things all the time. And you’re taking fine care of William.”
“Oh, Miz Katie, yer jes’ always so nice, but I knows dat I ain’t got da brains in my head dat you gots in one hand. So I’m jes’ sayin dat we gots ter do sumfin’. Cause dis is all my fault, an’ poor Miz Mayme wouldn’t be in dis fix ’cept fer me bein’ such a cocked loon wiff dat bad egg.”
“It’s not your fault, Emma. Sometimes bad things just happen.”
“Miz Mayme wouldn’t be in dis fix ’cept fer me, an’ if I know what she’s doin’ right now, it’s dat she’s not tellin ’em where I’s at. She’s in danger on account er me. So it’s my fault, Miz Katie, an’ we gotter do sumfin ’cause if dey git riled enough dey’s bound ter string her up. I seen what whites kin do when dey git riled. I member where I was at afore when dey strung up an ole uncle jes’ ’cause a chicken was missin’. An’ dat William McSimmons, he’s a mean one when he wants ter be. So we gotter go help her. I’s gotter try ter do sumfin.”
Katie thought a minute.
“All right, then, Emma,” she said. “I’ll go back to the McSimmons place. I don’t know what I will do, but you’re right, I have to try to do something.”
“Dat ain’t what I said, Miz Katie. I said I’s gotter try ter do sumfin. So if you’s goin, den I’m goin’ wiff you.”
“What about William?” asked Katie.
“I’ll take care of him, Katie,” Aleta now said eagerly.
“Can you stay here alone, Aleta?” Katie asked. “Without getting scared?”
“Yes, I promise. I’ve seen you feed him out of the bottle sometimes, and I know how to clean him if he makes a mess. And if someone comes, we’ll hide in the cellar.”
Katie turned again to Emma. “Aren’t you afraid of being seen, Emma?” she asked.
“I reckon I am. But if dat’s what’s gotter be done fer Miz Mayme, den I reckon dat’s what’s gotter be done.”
Katie drew in a deep breath of resolve, then stood up.
“Then I guess we’d better get ready,” she said. “Why don’t you fix a bottle or two of milk for Aleta and anything else she needs, and I’ll go saddle two horses.”
When Katie came back into the house ten minutes later, she was both scared and determined. She had been thinking about all Emma had said and realized she was right—they had to try to do something. If hard times took courage, then now was the time when she had to find out how much she had.
She walked into the house and saw a determined look on Emma’s face too. She said it was like watching Emma grow up three years in just a few minutes. They looked at each other, and both knew it was time to do what they had to do.
“Will you be all right, Aleta?” said Katie.
“Yes, Katie.”
“You know everything to do?”
Aleta nodded.
“Good girl,” said Katie. She gave her a hug, kissed her on the cheek, then turned back to Emma.
“Well, are you ready?”
“I’s ready, Miz Katie.”
Then Emma picked up her little son. “You be good fo Miz Aleta,” she said, then kissed him and handed him back to Aleta.
Katie glanced around the kitchen, then walked across the floor and picked up a small carving knife from the counter.
“What dat for, Miz Katie?” said Emma in alarm.
“I hope nothing, Emma—but if Mayme is tied up somewhere, I don’t want to have to go ask Mrs. Mc-Simmons if we can borrow a knife.”
Then another thought seemed to strike Katie. She turned and hurried toward the parlor. Emma followed, and when she came into the room she saw Katie standing in front of the open gun cabinet, removing one of her father’s rifles.
Emma’s eyes widened.
“What you doin’, Miz Katie!”
“We don’t know what we’re going to find, Emma,” she said. “But if that man is hurting Mayme … well, I don’t know what. But I’m going to take this with me. Mayme showed me how to use these guns once before, and maybe I’m going to have to use one again to rescue her.”
She closed the cabinet and turned to go, then stopped. She turned back, took out another rifle, grabbed another handful of shells and put them in her dress pocket, then led Emma from the room, back through the kitchen, and outside to the two waiting horses.