Together is All We Need (23 page)

‘‘Nothing, Your Honor,'' said my papa. ‘‘I'm afraid it's true, though nothing else so serious as this.''

‘‘So you admit it?''

‘‘Yes, sir.''

‘‘Well, then, that makes it easier. Though it's commendable of you to own up to it, I don't see that that helps you much. You're still guilty, and I still have to pass a sentence on you.''

‘‘I understand.''

‘‘Do you have anything else to say in your defense?''

‘‘Only that I intend to try to make amends by buying that land back.''

‘‘But you have no money?''

‘‘No, sir.''

‘‘I don't see how that changes my duty, then. Good intentions are cheap, Mr. Daniels.''

‘‘Yes, sir.''

‘‘But please, sir . . . Judge!'' said Katie all of a sudden, standing up. ‘‘We're going to help him pay it.''

The judge glanced about the room.

‘‘Who are you?'' he asked.

‘‘Kathleen Clairborne, sir. He's my uncle.''

‘‘Well, young lady, as I said, good intentions are cheap.''

‘‘But we really are going to help him pay the money back.''

‘‘Promises are just as cheap as intentions. I can allow no more such outbursts. Please sit down.''

‘‘But don't you want to hear what I have to say?''

‘‘No, I don't, young lady.''

Katie sat down, more irritated than contrite.

The judge looked back down at the papers in front of him and was about to start talking again.

Just then the door opened. Everyone turned around as the judge glanced toward the sound.

‘‘Who are you?'' he asked again, becoming more than a little annoyed at these continued interruptions.

‘‘I'm Roscoe,'' said the rancher.

‘‘The man who filed the complaint?'' asked the judge.

‘‘That's right.''

‘‘I take it you've got something to contribute to the proceedings?'' ‘‘Yes, sir,'' said Roscoe.

‘‘All right . . . step forward.''

Mr. Roscoe walked toward him, glanced toward my papa as he stopped and stood beside him, then looked up at the judge.

‘‘What I've got to say is simple enough, Your Honor,'' he said. ‘‘I'd like the charges dropped.''

A gasp of delight from Katie sounded, and a whispered comment or two from the others.

‘‘Why dropped?'' said the judge.

‘‘Because Daniels is trying to make amends, Judge. He's offered to buy the land back from me.''

‘‘But he has no money. He's admitted that.''

‘‘Yes, sir. But I think his offer is on the up and up.''

‘‘You believe him?''

‘‘I'm willing to trust him.''

‘‘After he swindled you?''

‘‘Yes, sir. This young lady even offered me the deed to her place. People don't do that unless they're serious.''

The judge thought a minute. ‘‘I don't know,'' he said. ‘‘I'm still inclined to give him some jail time . . . but if you'll sign off on dropping the charges—'' He glanced at Roscoe.

The rancher nodded his agreement. ‘‘I'll sign it,'' he said.

‘‘—well, then, I don't suppose we ought to waste the taxpayers' money. Charges dismissed.''

He rapped the top of the desk with a wooden hammer, although the sound could hardly be heard above a shriek of happiness from Katie and her uncle Ward's whoops as he hurried up to congratulate his brother.

The judge didn't seem to share everyone else's enthusiasm.

‘‘Next time you haul me out here, Sheriff,'' he said, ‘‘make sure I don't waste my time with a case that's going to be dropped. This was an unnecessary trip for me to make.''

As he left his room in his long black robe, everyone else gathered around my papa and Mr. Roscoe.

‘‘Oh, thank you, Mr. Roscoe!'' exclaimed Katie, jumping up from her chair and running over to give the rancher a hug. ‘‘We'll pay you back all of the money, just as soon as we can!''

Flustered at Katie's show of emotion, the rancher hemmed and hawed a little as Katie stepped back. Both Katie's uncle Ward and my papa now offered their hands.

‘‘I want to thank you too,'' said my papa. ‘‘And she's right, Roscoe. I meant what I told you.''

‘‘And I'll get you that other hundred within a week,'' added Katie's uncle Ward.

‘‘Well, I want to talk to the two of you about the money,'' said Roscoe. ‘‘I been thinking a lot about it, and I reckon that if the two of you believe in Daniels enough to give every cent you've got—''

He glanced at Katie and her uncle Ward.

‘‘—and if he's given me an apology and a shake of his hand to back it up, then maybe I oughta practice what I preach and take him at his word. I reckon trust has gotta start somewhere. And there's one other thing too—'' he said, then paused again.

It was silent as they all waited.

‘‘The three of you've shown that you're willing to accept responsibility for what happened,'' he went on after a minute. ‘‘You're willing to buy back the land and give me back every penny. But that's got me thinking, and I've got to look at my own side of it too. You can't con a man who doesn't want something that maybe he ain't altogether entitled to. If I hadn't been so greedy, Daniels, you'd have never been able to swindle me. People who get conned are usually trying to get something for nothing. The gold did go to my head,'' he said, turning to Katie's uncle Ward, ‘‘just like I told you. That was my own fault. I should have known there couldn't be gold on that land. You only made me believe what I wanted to believe. I got no one to blame but myself. I gotta take my own share of the responsibility for what happened.''

He paused again.

‘‘So what I'm proposing is this,'' he said. ‘‘Let's us split the difference for what happened right down the middle. You give me five hundred and I'll keep the land, and we'll call it square.'' ‘‘That's a generous offer, Roscoe,'' said my papa.

‘‘No more than what's fair. You all showed that you want to do right by me. Well, I figure that's my way of showing I want to do right too. The young lady here's given me two hundred ten dollars. I hate to take the last of her money, but with the two of you to take care of her, I reckon she'll be all right. I'm willing to wait for the rest till you harvest your cotton, whenever that may be. Keep your other hundred, Daniels,'' he said to Katie's uncle Ward. ‘‘And you keep your deed, Miss Clairborne. I'll trust you for the rest.''

He and my papa shook hands again and I think for the first time they really meant it.

They all left the courtroom and walked through the building and outside, the sheriff following behind them. My papa said he felt humbled and thankful. He'd never had to depend on people like this before in his life. He'd always figured he could talk his way out of anything that happened. It was humbling, in a good sort of way, to realize how much others cared about him and how much he had to be thankful for.

‘‘So, Sheriff,'' he said, slowing and turning behind him, ‘‘what's to be done now?''

‘‘Nothing more to be done,'' replied the sheriff. ‘‘The two of you've worked out your differences as far as I can see. The judge is heading back to Baltimore. You're free to go.''

Katie and Deputy Paxton had fallen behind and were slowly walking together back in the direction of the sheriff 's office.

‘‘What are you going to do now?'' asked the deputy.

‘‘I imagine we'll go home,'' said Katie. ‘‘I'll have to talk to my uncles. I want to thank you for your help.''

‘‘Don't mention it. I enjoyed making the trip with you.''

‘‘Me too. Be sure to give your family my regards.''

‘‘I will. And if you need a place to stay in Baltimore on your way back, I know my mother would be delighted to put you up again.''

‘‘But I'll be with my uncles.''

‘‘I know. I meant them too.''

‘‘All three of us?''

‘‘Of course. You saw how big our house is.''

‘‘That's right, I did!'' laughed Katie.

‘‘My mother loves to have guests. Hospitality is her middle name.''

‘‘It sounds like she should have been a Southerner!''

R
ETURN TO
R
OSEWOOD
40

I
T WAS MADDENINGLY DISTRACTING TRYING TO DO
anything during those days Katie was gone. I could think of nothing else but wondering when they would get back and when or if I would see my papa again. Emma kept busy with William, and Josepha always managed to find plenty to do in the kitchen and pantry and the rest of the house. It seemed like she had twice as much to do as Katie and I ever had. And Henry too seemed to keep busy in the barn and with the animals, and checking and fixing equipment and hoeing the weeds out of the rows of cotton growing in the fields. The milking and washing and cooking used to take up all my day, and now Josepha was doing so much of it. Even though she needed some help, there still wasn't as much for me to do as before.

Sometimes I didn't know what to do with myself. I helped Henry with the hoeing some. But also I took a few long walks and I prayed more than I think I'd ever prayed before. I couldn't stand the thought of my papa having to be in jail, no matter what he'd done.

How many times I must have prayed, ‘‘God, bring him back . . . please bring my papa home!'' Sometimes I couldn't pray anything else.

So when I was walking back toward the house one day from being at Katie's secret place in the woods, my heart started pounding when I saw three horses, still saddled, standing in the yard.

I started running toward them. Before I was halfway there, a tall figure, still wearing his hat from the ride, walked out of the kitchen door.

It was him!

‘‘Papa . . . Papa!'' I cried, running all the faster toward the house.

He turned toward me, hurried down the three steps of the porch, and ran toward me. Vaguely I saw two or three other people following him outside, but right then I was only looking at him.

He stopped before I did and opened his arms and I ran straight into them. He clasped me close, and I just stood there happy and content and crying against his chest.

Finally I felt him relax and I stepped back. He looked down at me, smiled, and wiped at the tears falling down my cheeks with one of his fingers. It was almost like he had never seen tears before, though I knew that wasn't true. But maybe these were the first tears since my mama's that had been shed just for him. Then he stooped down and kissed me on the forehead and hugged me again.

‘‘It is good to see you again, Mary Ann,'' he said. ‘‘I missed you.''

‘‘Oh, Papa, I'm so glad you're home!'' I said. ‘‘We were so worried before we got your letter, and then I've been anxious about what would happen to you ever since Katie left again.''

‘‘Well, it all seems to have worked out,'' he said.

‘‘Did Katie tell you what happened with her uncle Burchard and us leaving and everything?''

‘‘She told me every detail,'' he said, chuckling a little. It was so wonderful to hear him laugh again! I don't know what my papa would have been without his laugh and sense of humor. I could tell that he was tired and that his time away had changed him. Even with his laugh, he seemed quieter and more somber. But seeing his eyes sparkle and hearing his laughter made everything suddenly all right again.

‘‘But what happened?'' I asked. ‘‘How did you get out of jail?''

‘‘Kathleen charmed a few people,'' laughed my papa, ‘‘and gave almost every dollar she had to her name. And we've got to pay the man more money later. But he agreed to drop the charges. We just have to harvest this cotton of ours.''

‘‘We can do it, Papa. We did it before to pay off the bank—or part of it, at least. This year we'll harvest the cotton to pay
your
bills.''

‘‘In the meantime, we've got no money!'' he laughed. ‘‘We may not have much to eat between now and then.''

‘‘I don't care,'' I said. ‘‘We're all back together, that's the only thing we need.''

‘‘As long as we don't starve in the process.''

‘‘We won't. There's plenty to eat at Rosewood. Don't you worry—Katie and I know what to do.''

‘‘I'm sure you do.—But it looks like there's someone else who's as glad to see you as I am!''

I turned and saw Katie coming toward us.

‘‘Katie!'' I said, feeling myself starting to cry all over again.

‘‘Hi, Mayme,'' she said. ‘‘I think we're finally home for good.''

We hugged each other, a long quiet hug without words. Sometimes those are the best kind, when the hug itself says all there is to say.

‘‘You remember my uncle Ward,'' said Katie as we stepped back and she glanced behind her.

‘‘Yes. Hello, Mr. Daniels,'' I said to my papa's brother, who had walked out from the house with Katie.

‘‘Howdy, Miss Mary Ann,'' he said.

‘‘And he's your uncle too, isn't he, not just mine?'' Katie added.

I didn't know what to say. Neither did Mr. Daniels. He seemed a little embarrassed by what Katie had said. Maybe he wasn't quite ready to have a colored girl think of him as kin, though now that I was calling myself
Mayme Daniels,
like Papa had said he wanted me to if I thought it would be right in respect of Mr. Jukes, we did share the same family name.

T
HE
T
WO
U
NCLES
41