I was interested, but I had other things on my mind. I saw Mitchell coming. He was hurrying up the path, glancing back over his shoulder. I wondered if wherever he’d gone, he’d run into my daddy or his own. I scoured the crowd beyond him but saw neither one. “No, ma’am,” I said, rather abruptly, to the silver-haired woman, and backed away. “But thank you kindly, though.” I turned quickly and headed toward Mitchell, who left the path and cut across the grassy knoll to meet me. “What is it?” I asked as he drew near. “You run into our daddies?”
“Worse’n that,” he said, out of breath. “When’s the train goin’?”
“Soon.”
“Then we got t’ get on it.”
I glanced down the track toward the freight cars, all still being loaded. We couldn’t jump them right now without being noticed. “Best hide ’til the train starts up.”
“Can’t hide,” said Mitchell. “We got t’ get outa here quick!”
“But—”
“Look, I got your money from that Ray Sutcliffe,” he said, patting the lower portion of his shirt tucked into his trousers. “Jus’ took what was yours. Only thing was, ole Ray Sutcliffe, he wasn’t ready t’ give it up.”
“Ah, Lord, Mitchell, don’t tell me—”
“I waited ’til he gone off alone and I jumped him. I had t’ knock that fool down.”
“Ah, Mitchell—”
Mitchell looked back toward the road. “Got no time t’ talk ’bout this now, Paul. They comin’!”
I followed Mitchell’s gaze and saw a group of white men headed toward the spur. Not far behind them were my daddy, Mitchell’s daddy, and Robert. I looked around frantically. There was no place to hide. Most of the cotton bales were gone now and the loading platform was quickly emptying. I thought about making a mad dash across the tracks, but there was only flat-looking prairie land beyond, and I figured the men would see us before we found cover. I even thought about slipping under the train, but we’d be too visible to folks coming toward the spur. My last thought was as wild as any of the others, but I figured to try it anyway. “Follow me,” I told Mitchell, and took off toward the people on the platform. I went right to the silver-haired woman. “Ma’am,” I said, “you still want me to ride for you?”
The woman turned, looking around somewhat startled by my sudden reappearance. “So, you changed your mind?”
I nodded. “You still want me to work for you?”
“Well . . . I suppose—”
“Then I can go, long as my friend here can come with me.”
The woman looked past me at Mitchell, and I was fearful what she might think, for Mitchell could look as mean as he wanted to be, and right now he was looking more than mean. I give that woman credit for seeing past that look on Mitchell’s face at that moment and sensing something else.
“He’s good with horses,” I explained. “We travel together.”
The woman kept her eyes on Mitchell and slowly nodded. “All right then,” she said. “I suppose I can take you both on.”
Mitchell nudged me. The group of white men was now spreading along the track and checking the freight cars. “We need to get on now,” I told the woman.
“How come?” she asked. Her eyes studied Mitchell and me, and she frowned. “You boys in trouble?”
I looked at Mitchell, then took a deep breath and made a decision that would affect the rest of my life: I decided to trust this silver-haired woman. I told her we had taken the money Ray Sutcliffe owed us when he’d refused to pay, and I told her there were men looking for us now. The woman glanced down the platform at the men searching the cars, then set stern eyes on both of us. “You all hurt that man in any way? Tell me the truth now.”
I glanced at Mitchell. There was no expression on his face as he answered her. “Nothin’ but his pride and his backside,” he said. “I knocked him down.”
The woman’s voice rose, but not enough to attract attention. “You hit a white man?”
Mitchell’s silence answered the question.
“Well, that sure changes things,” said the woman with a heavy sigh, but she didn’t change her mind. “The two of you, pick up those bags and follow us. I never did like a man who doesn’t pay his debts. Just do what I say and no one will question you.”
She motioned to us, and both Mitchell and I picked up the women’s baggage and, with our caps lowered, followed her and her daughters as they climbed onto the train. Just before we entered the car, the silver-haired woman turned slightly and whispered, “When we get inside, do exactly what I say and not a word from either one of you.” She didn’t wait for a reply, but walked on, expecting us to follow, and we had no choice but to do so. We couldn’t go back. I glanced at Mitchell behind me, and I figured he was thinking the same thing as I.