Read Miss Katie's Rosewood Online
Authors: Michael Phillips
Tags: #FIC042030, #FIC042000, #FIC026000
Miss Katie's Rosewood (34 page)
G
OOD-BYE
55
O
utside Rob and Jeremiah had two wagons, each hitched to two horses, ready beside the house
.
Within minutes, things starting piling inâcarpetbags, tools, boxes, loose clothes and blankets, boxes and bags of silverware and cookery and jars and plates, food, pans, bags of beans and sugar and dried meat and cheese and what bread we had, rope, pillows, water containers, soap, hats, boots, gloves, spare wagon and leather parts for repairs, saddles, feed for the horses, and the supplies we thought we would need for a long trip. My, but what a mess it wasâten people grabbing and throwing in things faster than they could think about it
.
Then came two saddled single horses, and last the smaller carriage. Henry ran up from their house with an armload of clothes and quilts, Josepha's two prized books wrapped in them. As for Josepha herself, she was bustling back and forth from the kitchen with food and pots and what supplies she could carry. Rob now ran to collect his few things. The place was a pandemonium of frantic activity. It was amazing how quickly the wagons filled
.
Papa and Mr. Watson walked out of the house into the night. All about them everyone was running back and forth from the house to the wagons
.
“I don't know where you'll go to first,” said Watson. “The main thing is to get as far away from here tonight as you can. If I know Bill and Sam, they'll send out a search party in the morning. But once it settles down, I meant what I said about coming back for anything you want . . . tools, furniture, family heirlooms, even that piano in there of Kathleen's mama's.”
“Thanks, Herb,” said Templeton, nodding. “That means a great deal to Kathleen. This has been her home more than any of the rest of ours. She spent her whole life here.”
As if knowing they were talking about her, Katie now walked toward the two men
.
“This is the second saddest day of my life,” she said. “But I want to thank you, Mr. Watson, for saving Rosewood . . . even if I may never see it again.”
“You will see it again, Kathleen. I was just telling your uncle that you are all welcome anytime. This will always be your home.”
Katie stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek and tried to force a smile
.
“Thank you, Mr. Watson,” she said in a soft voice
.
In another ten minutes things began to slow down and gradually we all began to cluster around the wagons. Then Aunt Nelda came rushing toward Mr. Watson
.
“Mr. Watson, I almost forgot,” she said. “The horse and buggy that I rented in Charlotteâ”
“Don't worry about them, Mrs. Fairchild,” he said. “I will take care of them.”
“Let me know how much it is and I will send you payment.”
Mr. Watson smiled. “I will take care of it,” he repeated
.
He turned to the rest of us where we stood waiting
.
“Get going!” he said, glancing toward town. “I can already imagine that I see faint lights in the distance. Get to the woods as quickly as you can, far enough so that they can't hear you.”
We all jumped into the wagons. Katie and I climbed up and sat beside Uncle Templeton in one of the two big ones. Aunt Nelda climbed up beside Uncle Ward in the other. Jeremiah and Rob mounted the two single horses. Henry helped Josepha up onto the seat of the smaller buggy, then jumped up beside her
.
“We've got no time for long good-byes,” said Papa, glancing about one last time. I saw him blinking hard
.
“Thanks, Herb!” he said, then turned and flapped the reins in his hands and yelled and the horses jumped into motion and off we went into the night and toward whatever was our new destiny. If there was anyone who wasn't crying, I don't know who it was
.
Whether Katie was sadder to leave her lifelong home, or Josepha to leave her brand-new house that she never thought she would have and that she loved so much, I don't know. Tears were pouring down both their faces. I think I felt more anguish for the two of them than for myself
.
We bounced and rumbled past the barn and out of the yard on the road toward Mr. Thurston's
.
Josepha and I had once before left Rosewood, thinking we would never see it again. But this was Katie's time to grieve. She and I turned around and looked back as the house and barn began to fade into the blackness of night. We started around a bend in the road. I glanced over at Katie. Her eyes glistened with
tears in the light of the thin moon. She looked over at me
.
“We've been happy here, haven't we, Mayme?”
“Happier than I've ever been anywhere in my life,” I said
.
“Just as long as I never lose you, I will be happy anywhere. Oh, but I will miss this dear place! I just hope Mama and Papa won't mind too much what I've done.”
“They won't mind,” I said. “It would have happened a long time ago without your hard work and courage. I think they would be very proud of you.”
We both looked back toward the house
.
“Good-bye, Rosewood,” I said
.
For a moment more Katie stared back
.
“Good-bye, Rosewood . . .” she whispered
.
A few seconds later the buildings disappeared from sight
.
S
TANDOFF
56
B
EFORE THE WAGONS HAD EVEN CLEARED THE YARD
, Herb Watson hurried his horse into the barn, unsaddled it, and hoped it would not be found in a sweat. Then he ran back upstairs, took off his clothes, and rummaged around until he found an old pair of nightclothes that had likely belonged to Kathleen's father. As soon as he heard the sounds of the wagons fading in the distance, he blew out all the lanterns in the house . . . and waited.
When the angry mob of white riders carrying their torches reached Rosewood, they found it quiet and dark, just as they had expected. Their shouts and yells and taunts brought a light to one of the upper windows soon enough.
But the sleepy head that peeped out of the open window a few seconds later was the last face any of them had expected to see here.
“Watson,” shouted William McSimmons, pulling off his hood, “what in blazes are you doing here!”
“Didn't you hear?” said Watson. “I bought this place from the Daniels brothers.”
Stunned murmurs and questions of disbelief spread through the group of riders.
“We came on business, Watson,” shouted Sam Jenkins.
“Now get down here and tell us what this is all about.”
A minute later Watson appeared, rubbing his eyes and holding a lantern and to all appearances recently aroused from bed.
“Where are they?” demanded Jenkins.
“Who?”
“The Daniels and their niggersâthe whole brood!”
“I don't know. They're not here anymore. They're gone . . . left. I'm alone.”
“You don't mind if we search the place?”
Watson hesitated a moment before answering.
“Let me get this straight, Sam . . . you think I'm lying to you?”
“I didn't say that. I just want to know if we can search the place.”
“Why else would you want to unless you think I'm lying? I don't know that I take that kindly, Sam.”
The first syllable of a terrible curse burst from Jenkins' lips, but he stopped himself. Herb Watson was one of the most respected men in Greens Crossing.
“If you want to search . . . go right ahead,” said Watson. He glanced up and down the line of riders. “You know,” he added, “I'm pretty trusting when it comes to all you boys' cotton and other crops. If I wasn't so trusting, I could tear apart your bales and do some searching of my own. I'd likely find weeds and stones and thistles and probably I wouldn't be able to give you as much for it as you might want. You know what I mean, boys? I'm a trusting man myself. If you can't trust me, then go have a look around. But I'll remember that next time you boys bring your cotton in to me. And I know who you all are. Those sheets don't hide a thing. So go on, Sam, have a look around if you don't believe that this place is mine and that the two Daniels and the rest of them are gone.”
Behind him, some of the riders shifted uneasily in their saddles.
“I don't know if I believe any of this, Herb,” said Jenkins. “We told you not to do any business with them. Now you tell us you've gone and bought their place.”
“Seemed like the best solution. Folks know that I've been talking for a while about getting me a place out of town.”
“You let them get away, Herb. Might be that we'll have to burn you out for that.”
“You could. But you've got no reason to. You've got me outnumbered by plenty. What good does it do you? I've always treated you all fairly. Are you going to punish me for taking advantage of an opportunity? You can start something here if you're determined. You can burn me out here and now. You can burn my mill in town too if your hate's gone that far.
“But do you really want that? There are no coloreds here. They're all gone and won't be back. I bought this place and have the papers to prove it. The blacks are gone. All that's left are me and you all. I know who most of you are, and your livelihood depends on me and my mill. You need me, or your crops won't be worth anything. I'm the man who decides what to pay you for your crops. So you have to ask yourselves if it's worth it.”
Whether Sam Jenkins liked it or not, Watson's words were getting through to the rest of them, even William McSimmons, whose cotton crop was huge. Sam didn't have a crop to lose, but the others depended on their cotton.
“You've won,” said Watson. “The Daniels are gone. You forced them out. You got what you wanted.”