A Perilous Proposal (23 page)

“I jest neber thought ob it afore, I reckon.”

“Miss Katie couldn't get by without me . . . or me without her either,” I said. “I don't know what would become of us if we hadn't—”

I stopped myself. Feeling comfortable talking to Jeremiah was one thing, but I didn't want to be the one to give away Katie's scheme!

“I mean . . . they . . .” I said, fumbling to correct
myself, “—they took me in and helped me, and—well, that's all.”

Again I stopped. Jeremiah was looking at me funny
.

“What do you mean . . . took you in?” he said. “Weren't you one ob dere slaves?”

“Uh . . . yes—that's what I meant to say. I mean, they let me stay.”

“Where's Mister and Mistress Clairborne?” he asked. “My pa wanted me t' ask dem somethin' fo him.”

“Katie's pa ain't back from the war.”

“What about Mistress Clairborne—she in da house? I din't see nobody but jest two other girls, an one ob dem was colored.”

“She's . . . she's somewhere and it ain't . . . well, it ain't none of your business where she is,” I said
.

I turned and led the way into the barn
.

“Here's that bridle,” I said. “Just fix it and mind your own business.”

Jeremiah set about his work with the straps of leather and few tools he had. I saw him looking around the barn. I knew he was noticing things
.

I walked outside, more mad at myself than him. I hoped I hadn't got us into a worse fix. I went back to the kitchen. Katie and the others were waiting for me
.

“I don't think he'll be too long,” I said. “We can finish the cheese when he's gone.”

Then I went back outside and waited on the porch
.

Five or ten minutes later Jeremiah came out of the barn
.

“Got it mended,” he said. “Reckon I'll jes' tell Miz Clairborne.”

He climbed the steps and knocked on the door again. Katie had been watching and immediately opened it
.

“Bridle's fixed, Miz Clairborne,” said Jeremiah
.

“Thank you,” said Katie
.

“Anything else you'd like dun aroun' da place?”

“Uh, no . . . but thank you,” said Katie. Then without waiting for anything further, she closed the door
.

Slowly he came back down the three or four steps to where I was standing
.

“Well . . . reckon I'll be headin' back t' town,” he said slowly. “You, uh . . . you min' if I come out agin?”

“I don't think Miss Katie, I mean Miss Clairborne—” I started to say
.

“No, Miz Mayme . . . I mean, does you min' if I comes fer a visit?”

“What would you want to visit for?”

“I thought maybe I'd come t' visit you, dat's all. An' my pa, he said dat if I asked 'bout Mistress Clairborne an' got no answer 'bout where she was an' din't see her wiff my own eyes—dat he wanted me ter make sure you young ladies wuz all right.”

“What did he mean by that?” I said
.

“Nuthin', miss . . . just what I said. Dat's why he wanted me ter come out an' men' dat bridle, 'cuz he wanted ter know if you an' Miz Clairborne wuz all right.”

“Well, you can tell him we're fine,” I said. “And that he ought to mind his own business too.”

I shouldn't have said it. Jeremiah looked at me funny. Then he shrugged and turned and started walking along the road back toward town. I watched him a minute, then suddenly ran after him
.

“Jeremiah!” I called out
.

He stopped and turned back toward me
.

“Please . . . don't tell,” I said
.

“Tell what?” he asked
.

“What you saw here—who you saw in the
kitchen . . . what you said before about only seeing us girls.”

He looked at me seriously, and it was the first time we'd both looked in each other's eyes
.

“What you really want me not ter say,” he said after a few seconds, “is what I ain't seen, an' dat's Mistress Clairborne—ain't dat right, Miz Mayme?”

“Please,” I said without really answering him, “you can't tell. Please promise you won't tell anyone.”

“Dat's a hard one, Miz Mayme,” said Jeremiah finally. “Reckon I'll have ter think on dat some on my way home.”

That was the first day Jeremiah and I talked alone together. That part of his coming out had been nice. But suddenly, without us planning it, someone knew that something fishy was going on at Rosewood—and that someone was Jeremiah Patterson! I knew if he thought long enough about what he'd seen, he'd start figuring out Katie's scheme
.

T
O
THE
R
ESCUE

32

J
EREMIAH DIDN'T SEE
M
AYME OR
K
ATIE AGAIN FOR A
while. He was busy working in town, and Rosewood was a long way from Greens Crossing.

But then one day, when Jeremiah was helping his father in the livery, he heard a galloping horse approaching. He didn't think much of it until he heard Katie's voice out front.

“Where's Jeremiah?” she called, clearly in a panic.

“Back dere cleanin' out da livery,” began Henry. “But what's you—”

Before he finished his sentence, Katie ran past him through the doorway.

“Jeremiah . . . Jeremiah!” she called in the dim light. “Jeremiah—it's Katie Clairborne . . . please, I need your help. Mayme's in trouble.”

Jeremiah dropped the pitchfork in his hand and stepped forward.

“Some men have got Mayme,” said Katie frantically. “White men . . . and I'm afraid. Can you help us?”

“Jest lead da way, Miz Clairborne.”

Katie turned and ran back outside as Jeremiah hurried to catch up.

“I ain' got no horse er my own,” he said.

“You can ride with me!” said Katie. She ran to her horse and jumped onto its back. “Climb up and sit behind the saddle.”

Less than a minute later, Katie was flapping the reins and galloping through town, leaving Henry watching them go, along with townspeople no doubt shocked to see a white girl and colored boy on the same horse.

Jeremiah caught a glimpse of the storekeeper, Mrs. Hammond, as they flew past her store, a disapproving scowl on her face. He didn't doubt news of this ride would reach the ears of the white boys in town. But he couldn't worry about that now.

“I'm going to say the same thing to you,” said Katie, glancing behind her as they slowed a few minutes later and turned the horse off the road, “that Mayme told me she said to you before. Please . . . don't tell what you see or who you see or anything. I can't make you promise because there's no time to worry about it. But I hope you'll keep quiet.”

Before Jeremiah could reply, Katie had stopped the horse and was dismounting.

A pretty black girl was crouching near the side of the road. “Who dat!” she called out as they approached, clearly frantic.

“Never mind who it is,” said Katie. “He's the boy who came out to the house. He's going to help us.—Jeremiah,” she said, turning back to him, “would you ride behind Emma on the other horse?”

In another minute they were on their way again, traveling more slowly as they approached the McSimmons place. As they went, the horses side by side, Katie briefly tried to explain the situation.

“These are mean people, Jeremiah,” she said. “If they see too many black faces, there is no telling what they might do.
For reasons I can't tell you about, if they catch so much as a glimpse of Emma, they're likely to kill her. So we've got to stay out of sight.”

“What dey want wiff Miz Mayme?” Jeremiah asked.

“Mayme used to be a slave here. I'm guessing they think she knows where Emma is and are trying to get her to tell them.”

“An' if I know what she's doin' right now,” Emma began tearfully, “it's dat she's not tellin 'em where I's at. She's in danger on account er me.” She began wailing.

“Shush, Emma,” said Katie sternly. “Now, Jeremiah, I don't want you to be in danger either. If anything bad happens, you get away and take her with you. Get as far away as you can and take her back to my house until I get back.”

“What about you, Miz Katie?” asked Jeremiah.

“If anything happens, I just want the two of you to get away as fast as you can. They won't hurt me—I'm white.”

“What you plannin' ter do?” asked Jeremiah. “If dey's got Mayme, how you gwine fin' her?”

“I don't know. We need to sneak up to the house somehow,” she said. “There's a black servant lady named Josepha that we've got to find without anyone seeing us.”

“I can git in da house, Miz Katie,” said Emma. “I know where dere's a way in wiffout bein' seen. I snuck in an' out lots er times. I'm sorry, Miz Katie, but I was a crackbrained coon an' I dun things I shouldn't hab dun.”

“We won't worry about that now,” said Katie.

Ten minutes later Katie and Emma had managed to sneak into the McSimmons house through the cellar and were asking Josepha if she'd heard anything about Mayme.

“I'm feared, Miz Kathleen,” said Josepha, tears filling her eyes, “I'm mighty feared dey was fixin' ter take her out to da big oak.”

Emma gasped. “Da big oak!” Her eyes filled with terror.

“What is it?” said Katie.

“Come wiff me, Miz Katie,” said Emma without answering the question. “We gotter git outer here!”

“If Mayme's in trouble, then we're going to help her. Do you know where the oak is, Emma?”

“Yes'm, but—”

“Emma!” said Katie. “Remember—we came to help Mayme.”

“If they've taken her to da big oak, chil',” said Josepha, breaking into sobs, “dere ain't nuthin you can do fer poor Mayme now.”

Katie and Emma left the cellar of the house as they had come, and ran back to where Jeremiah was crouching behind a tree, holding one of the rifles Katie had brought along.

“What are you doing with that!” exclaimed Katie.

“Listenin' ter you talk about how dangerous dese people is, I figured I'd best be ready ter shoot if dey was comin' after da two er you.”

“Nobody saw us . . . come on!”

Two minutes later they were back in their saddles and Emma was leading the way as best she could remember.

It took them ten or twelve minutes to reach the place.

“Dere it is—dat's da big oak!” whispered Emma. “An' see—dere's men on horses all dere together! Oh, Miz Katie, I'm mighty feared 'bout what dey's doin', an' I'm feared we be too late!”

They dismounted and tied up their horses and crept to the edge of the trees.

“No—look, there's Mayme in the middle of them,” said Katie. “We're not too late. She's on one of the horses and—”

Suddenly Katie gasped in horror.

“She's blindfolded . . . and they've got a rope around her neck!” she exclaimed. “It's tied over that limb up above!”

“Dat's what I feared, Miz Katie! Dat's what I been tellin you.”

“Dey's fixin' ter string her up, all right,” whispered Jeremiah. “I heard 'bout dis eber since da war. I almost got in some trouble like it mysel' wiff some white men dat'd been drinkin'.”

“Oh, Miz Katie—Mayme's so good,” Emma was babbling. “She be gwine git herself strung up fer me.”