Angels Watching Over Me (Shenandoah Sisters Book #1)

by Phillips, Michael

  She wasn’t hollering so much now, with Katie holding her hand and talking gently to her. But her forehead and cheeks were drenched in sweat, and I can’t say she smelled any too good. Every so often she’d cry out a little and twist up her face in pain.

  ‘‘Dat feels good,’’ she said as she leaned her head back onto the pillow. ‘‘Thank yer, missus—ye’re bein’ so kind ter me eben dough I dun stole yer bread.’’

  ‘‘Don’t worry about the bread, Emma,’’ said Katie. ‘‘And I’m not a missus—I’m just a girl like you. My mama was the mistress, but she’s . . . she’s not here. My name’s Katie. And we’ll get you something more to eat real soon.—Mayme, dip a towel in some water so we can wash her face.’’

  ‘‘Jezus, bless yer soul, Miz Katie . . . ye’re so good—’’

  She cried out and grabbed at Katie’s hand.

  ‘‘Laws, it hurts, Miz Katie! I can’t help it . . . I’m so scared!’’

  ‘‘Just lie still, Emma,’’ Katie said gently. ‘‘Everything is going to be fine. You don’t mind if I pull up your dress a little, do you, Emma?’’

  ‘‘No, Miz Katie . . .’’

  She was grimacing in pain every few seconds by now it seemed, and each time it came over her, she leaned forward and her whole body tensed up. But Katie kept holding her hand and trying to calm her.

  ‘‘Get a towel, Mayme,’’ said Katie as she drew Emma’s dress up. ‘‘Put it down there by her so the baby—’’

  Emma screamed again, louder and longer than before.

  Katie helped her get her underthings off, and then I saw why the girl was yelling so often. Her knees were raised, and all at once I saw the top of a tiny little dark head trying to push its way out from inside her.

  ‘‘There it is!’’ I yelled. ‘‘It’s coming!’’

  The next second Katie was at my side. ‘‘Take her hand, Mayme—talk to her,’’ she said. ‘‘I’ll help with the baby.—One or two more times, Emma. You’re doing good . . . it’s almost over.’’

  ‘‘Laws . . . owwww. . . .’’

  ‘‘Here comes your baby, Emma,’’ said Katie, reaching to help guide the little head the rest of the way out.

  Emma shrieked again. ‘‘I can’t . . . ow—Miz Katie!’’

  ‘‘It’s coming, Emma!’’

  Emma bent forward and grimaced and pushed. For a couple of seconds the barn was completely silent. Then suddenly I heard a swoosh, and a second or two later the tiny cry of a baby.

  ‘‘Emma, you did it!’’ Katie cried, and as I looked up, her face was smiling like I’d never seen it before. Emma collapsed back against the pillow with her eyes closed, still sweating and crying and breathing heavily. But it was only for a second. The crying of the baby brought her eyes open again, and a faint smile came to her parched lips.

  ‘‘It’s a little boy, Emma!’’ said Katie. ‘‘—Mayme, help me . . . get that other towel . . . help me dry him off.’’

  I did what she said, hardly knowing what to think. How on earth did Katie know how to do all this!

  As I was helping her I noticed something about the baby that seemed mighty peculiar. But I didn’t have the chance to think about it right then.

  ‘‘Go back into the house, Mayme,’’ said Katie in the middle of my thoughts. ‘‘Get my mama’s scissors from the sewing room. We have to cut the cord. And a bottle of alcohol from the pantry . . . hurry.’’

  When I came back, I stared almost bewildered while Katie splashed alcohol on the scissors, then cut the cord by the knot she’d tied and dabbed it with some more alcohol and wiped away the blood.

  Katie wrapped the baby in one of the clean towels and gently held him out to Emma.

  ‘‘Here’s your baby boy, Emma,’’ she said. ‘‘Do you want to hold him?’’

  Emma reached out her arms to take him, then just stared at the little thing she was holding, studying his tiny fingers and little ears and even the little toenails.

  ‘‘Thank you, Miz Katie . . . ye’re been so good ter me!’’

  ‘‘What do you want to call him?’’ Katie asked.

  ‘‘Da chil’s name be William,’’ I heard Emma answer softly.

  Katie covered her up with the end of the blanket and a clean towel. Emma was exhausted. It looked nice and peaceful, the little baby at his mother’s breast, and in less than two minutes both of them were asleep.

  But there was still something bothering me.

  Katie gathered up the dirty towels and pail of water and walked toward the barn door.

  I just kept staring at Emma and the baby for a few seconds, hardly believing what I was seeing, then I followed Katie out of the barn.

  A DIFFERENCE

  40

  WE HARDLY HAD A MINUTE TO OURSELVES for the rest of the day. What with Katie fussing over Emma and the baby, if I hadn’t known better I’d have thought Katie was a missus, and that Emma was her own little girl!

  Katie was younger than either me or Emma, and here she was acting like mistress to the whole place. I don’t know why it bothered me. I’d never minded anything she said to me, but seeing her being so nice to a dimwit like Emma stuck in my craw, and I couldn’t get rid of it.

  We had left them sleeping there in the barn and walked back toward the house. Katie’s sleeves were rolled up and she was carrying two bloody towels. Her face was glowing with satisfaction. I wasn’t saying much, and by now we’d been around each other long enough to know what the other’s frame of mind was.

  ‘‘What’s eating you, Mayme?’’ said Katie.

  ‘‘Can’t you tell?’’ I said.

  ‘‘Tell what?’’ she asked.

  ‘‘That baby’s father’s a white man.’’

  ‘‘How do you know?’’

  ‘‘Look at him. You can tell by the color of his skin.’’

  ‘‘His hair’s curly and dark.’’

  ‘‘That doesn’t matter,’’ I said. ‘‘Emma’s as black as a sky with no moon, but that child’s light as can be. I’ve seen a heap of colored babies, and that little boy’s the son of a white man.’’

  Katie shrugged as she put the towels down by the washtub in the yard. Then she washed her hands. ‘‘I don’t see what difference that makes,’’ she finally said.

  ‘‘It makes all the difference,’’ I shot back. Probably my voice sounded a little irritable because that’s what I was feeling.

  ‘‘Why?’’ asked Katie, with a little edge creeping into her voice too.

  ‘‘Because—because it means she lay with a white man, and that ain’t right,’’ I answered. ‘‘She ain’t married to whoever that boy’s father is, and it’s wrong. It ain’t nothing but a little bastard son of a white man.’’

  Katie thought a second.

  ‘‘I suppose you’re right,’’ she said slowly. ‘‘About somebody doing wrong. But that’s not the baby’s fault, and it’s not right for you to call it such a name. The baby can’t help what color it is or how it got here. You’re not prejudiced against whites, are you, Mayme?’’

  ‘‘How can you say that?’’

  ‘‘I don’t know—why would his light skin bother you? You’re not near as black as Emma either.’’

  ‘‘That’s different. There’s all shades of colored folks.’’

  ‘‘Then why are you upset about little William’s color?’’

  ‘‘That’s another thing—that’s a white name,’’ I said, ignoring her question. ‘‘Why would she give it a white name? And so quick-like. There wasn’t a second’s hes-itation—‘ Da chil’s name be William,’ ’’ I said, and I reckon I was a little sarcastic as I repeated Emma’s words. ‘‘I don’t like it.’’

  ‘‘What’s come over you, Mayme?’’ Katie asked. ‘‘This isn’t like you.—Well, no matter,’’ she said without giving me the chance to answer, ‘‘we’ve got to try to get her inside.’’

  ‘‘Miss Katie,’’ I exclaimed, ‘‘you’re not thinking of putting her in one of your beds!
’’

  ‘‘She can’t stay in the barn. We have to feed her and get her a comfortable place to rest up.’’

  ‘‘But . . . I figured you’d make her go back to her own kin.’’

  ‘‘Maybe later,’’ said Katie. ‘‘But she can’t stay in the barn. And besides, we don’t have any idea who her kin even are.’’

  ‘‘She’s just a runaway slave girl who’s birthed a white man’s baby.’’

  Katie stopped and looked at me in a way she’d never done before.

  ‘‘Mayme,’’ she said, and I could tell she was more than a little annoyed with me, ‘‘we have to take care of her. And we are going to. So help me get a bed ready, and then help me get her inside.’’

  I didn’t argue any more about it. Katie’s voice made it clear enough that there wasn’t anything further for me to say on the matter. With all that had just happened, I didn’t know what I was going to do now. Just when I’d gotten up the gumption to leave . . . now this. I couldn’t very well walk out on Katie now, with a dimwit like Emma and a little newborn on her hands. And yet . . . I didn’t think I ought to stay either. I’d made up my mind the day before, and I didn’t want to go back on it. I reckon my pride was getting the better of me.

  A couple of hours later, after she’d had a good sleep, we half carried Emma inside. She was skinny as a rail and wasn’t too heavy and we managed to get her into the house. Katie arranged a bed for Emma on a sofa in the parlor. She said it would be easier for us to take care of her there.

  Katie busied herself warming some soup, then sat beside the sofa feeding Emma with a spoon for the next hour. The girl was so weak after what she’d been through that she could hardly sit up or talk. But Katie sat beside her and spoke softly to her and fed her and gave her milk.

  Every once in a while, when I’d walk by the room, I’d hear Emma talking a little crazy, like she was half awake or half asleep, which she probably was. The baby cried a little, but not too often.

  I was still stewing inside, I think as much from having my own plans turned upside down as from anything else. But I had a feeling that if Katie let her stay around, Emma was going to get her into even more trouble than she was already in.

  And likely me too. . . .

  THE ARGUMENT

  41

  KATIE CAME INTO THE KITCHEN AFTER BOTH Emma and the baby were sleeping again, carrying the empty bowl and cup.

  ‘‘When are you going to make her leave?’’ I asked.

  ‘‘Leave?’’ said Katie, putting the things in the basin. ‘‘She can’t leave. She’s so exhausted she can’t even stand up right now. She’ll be in bed for a week.’’

  ‘‘A week!’’ I exclaimed. ‘‘She can’t stay here that long. She’s going to get you into some bad kind of fix before that. Didn’t you hear her say somebody was after her?’’

  ‘‘No,’’ Katie answered slowly.

  ‘‘Well, she did.’’

  ‘‘It doesn’t matter. They won’t find her here.’’

  ‘‘What makes you think that?’’

  ‘‘Why would they look for her here?’’

  ‘‘Somebody could have followed her. What if they have dogs—?’’

  ‘‘We’ll hide her.’’

  ‘‘Miss Katie! What if the baby starts crying?’’

  ‘‘It doesn’t matter,’’ said Katie with that determined voice she’d been using lately. ‘‘I’m not going to make her leave.’’

  ‘‘Well, I don’t like it,’’ I insisted. ‘‘She’s just a thickheaded guttersnipe that’s got no right to put you in danger like this.’’

  ‘‘Are you really so concerned about me, Mayme? Why don’t you like her?’’

  ‘‘I just don’t,’’ I said. ‘‘She’s just a dumb colored that got herself knocked up by a white man.’’

  ‘‘What’s come over you, Mayme?’’ Katie asked. ‘‘Are you so ornery all of a sudden because somebody else needs help now instead of you?’’

  ‘‘You never gave me no help!’’ I shot back. ‘‘It was me that helped you!’’

  ‘‘You’re right,’’ said Katie. ‘‘I did need your help. I’d have likely died without your help. But now someone else needs help, and I don’t know why you’re too stubborn to see it. Why won’t you help Emma the same as you helped me?’’

  ‘‘It ain’t the same.’’

  ‘‘What’s different about it?’’

  ‘‘It’s just different, that’s all.’’

  ‘‘You know what I think, Mayme,’’ said Katie, and her eyes flashed, ‘‘I think you are all mixed up right now. You don’t like the thought of me helping someone, especially a colored girl. What if she were a white girl who needed us, Mayme? I think you’re jealous of Emma—’’

  ‘‘You think I’m jealous of her!’’ I practically yelled. ‘‘She ain’t worth it!’’ I turned around to stare out the kitchen window.

  ‘‘Well, she’s worth something to me!’’ said Katie at my back, and it was as close to yelling at me as she’d ever come. ‘‘She’s all alone and her baby’s helpless, and she’s just about as helpless herself, poor thing. So I’m going to help her whether you like it or not. I don’t know anything about taking care of a baby because I never had younger brothers and sisters like you did. I’m sure you know more about it than I do. But if you won’t help, I guess I’ll just have to learn. And I will too, because she needs me.’’

  She paused and glanced over at my note where it was still lying on the kitchen table.

  ‘‘So you might as well just leave again,’’ she said, ‘‘if you’re so determined to go.’’

  ‘‘Maybe I will,’’ I said, ‘‘just like I said I would.’’

  ‘‘Then go ahead!’’ said Katie in an angry voice. Her face was red again. I guess I’d riled her up pretty good. ‘‘But I’m staying here, just like I said too. And Emma and her baby are welcome to stay with me as long as they like!’’

  ‘‘You’d rather have her than me!’’ I blurted out, knowing even as the words passed my lips how dumb they sounded.

  ‘‘I wouldn’t rather have anybody. I don’t love you any less, Mayme—’’

  I couldn’t help looking away again. I hadn’t expected her to say something like that right in the middle of an argument. Suddenly my eyes stung with hot tears. The words tore me apart.

  ‘‘—There’s plenty of love in my heart to go around,’’ Katie continued softly. ‘‘I’d hoped you had the same kind of love in yours. But if I can give some of the love that’s in me to Emma too, then maybe I’m supposed to. Maybe that’s why she wound up here. When you first came, you and I both needed help, and we helped each other. You’re right, you helped me a lot more than I helped you. Maybe that’s why I’ve got to help Emma now.’’

  The kitchen got real quiet. We just stood there looking at each other, both of our faces full of emotion. I reckon I’d dug myself in too deep a hole to climb out of without eating a heap more crow than I wanted to right then. Maybe my pride had got the best of me, and when that happens a body doesn’t think too straight or make good decisions.

  ‘‘Well, I sure as shootin’ ain’t gonna stick around and wait for that fool to get us in a fix,’’ I finally said. ‘‘She’ll be the death of us both if she’s found here. The day’s going to come as sure as sin when somebody comes after her and maybe kills her, and us at the same time.’’

  ‘‘Well, I’m not going to make her leave, Mayme,’’ said Katie.

  Just then the baby cried out from the parlor. Then came Emma’s voice.

  ‘‘Missus . . . Miz Katie . . . der baby’s cryin’. . . .’’

  For a second or two more Katie’s eyes stared into mine. I knew she was pleading with me to come to my senses.

  Then she turned and hurried into the parlor.

  LEAVING AGAIN

  42

  ISTOOD IN THE KITCHEN FOR ABOUT A MINUTE after Katie’d left.

  Finally I picked up the note I’d written early
that same morning before it was light.

  Dear Katie, I read.

  There ain’t no good way to say good-bye, so I’m leaving before daylight so we don’t have to go through the pain of it. Only one last thing I want to say—and that is that you’re the best friend I could ever have in the world. I’ll never forget you. I love you, Katie.

  Mayme

  Tears were already in my eyes before I finished reading it. They were sure more pleasant words than the ones we’d just fired back and forth at each other.

  It wasn’t much of a way to say good-bye, but I didn’t want to have to try to say it again, especially with Katie mad at me.

  I set the note back down on the table and slowly walked outside. My Bible and bundle of things were still in the barn. I walked across the yard, through the door, and found them where I’d dropped them earlier. I carried them out and stood by the pump, holding them in my hands and trying to make some sense of all the thoughts and emotions swirling around inside me. Then I set out walking.

  A minute later I was on my way down the road again just like I had been earlier. It was so quiet. Even the baby’d stopped crying. It seemed like it took forever for me to get down the road a hundred yards. Tears were coming down my face because I knew Katie wouldn’t come riding after me this time, and I knew I couldn’t look back.

  On I walked, one slow step after another, hating myself for leaving, still thinking I had no choice, though my brain was pretty mixed up by now.

  Then again came a familiar voice. I wanted to think I was dreaming again, like I’d thought earlier. But I knew it was no dream.

  ‘‘Mayme!’’ Katie called behind me.

  I stopped.

  ‘‘Mayme . . . please don’t go!’’

  Slowly I turned around. There was Katie standing next to the porch.

  Before I realized what I was doing, I was running toward her. Then she started running toward me. I dropped the things I was holding . . . and I saw Katie open her arms . . . and all of a sudden we were in each other’s arms crying like a couple of babies.

  We didn’t do anything for a while but just stand there sobbing on each other’s shoulders.