“Of course you are,” Nancy countered. “Oh, I wish you had just come to me. I have no desire to see you and Alma separated.”
“But most whites do not feel as you do.” The old woman looked at her friend. “We have been together since my birth. Alma is three years older than me, and her mother was my mammy. Alma was my childhood companion and later my maid. When I married, my father gave Alma to me as a gift. When my husband decided we would move west, there was never a question of whether we’d invite Alma to accompany us.”
Mrs. Weaver paused to smile at Alma. “So she decided to come with us, only to learn that blacks were not welcome in the Oregon Country. We witnessed many horrible things involving the Negro people. Many were whipped and forced to leave, never to be heard from again. I couldn’t let that happen to Alma.
“My husband had purchased a house in the country, and there we felt fairly safe. Alma was able to live without fear to a degree, but whenever people came calling, we were careful to hide her away. We had a nice room set up for her off the chicken house. This was only for those times when people came calling and were in the main house. Otherwise Alma had her own bedroom upstairs in our house.”
“Why did you need a separate hiding place off the chicken house?” Nancy asked.
Virginia nodded, as if anticipating the question. “We couldn’t risk someone being with us downstairs and hearing her footsteps or the creaking of the floorboards upstairs. We had to constantly keep such things in mind.”
“That would be terrible.”
“We made sure there were lots of places she could hide on the property. We wanted to make sure she’d be safe no matter what. No one ever knew she was with us.”
“How awful to have to hide away all the time,” Nancy said, shaking her head.
Virginia cast a sorrowful gaze at Alma. “When my husband died and I was forced to sell everything and move to the city, I actually considered returning to Georgia, but I knew it would cost every cent I had. We’d be dependent upon family to care for us, and I couldn’t be sure they’d accept Alma. I told her we would simply have to sneak her into the boardinghouse, so she hid herself in the blanket box that I packed with my clothesand sentimental articles. She would hide there when you came to see me in my room. Sometimes, though, there wasn’t time, and she would crawl under the bed.”
Faith couldn’t imagine the old woman having to do that. She and Mrs. Weaver were at least in their sixties, and just watching Alma as she came downstairs, Faith felt certain the black woman was arthritic.
“Well, there will be no more of that.” Nancy frowned. “I am so sorry for what you’ve endured, Alma. I have little tolerance for the harsh judgment that is passed on a person because of the color of their skin.” She looked back at Mrs. Weaver. “How can we best remedy this, Virginia? Would a bigger room help? We have the room the Clifton sisters used to occupy. It’s a little bigger. I have empty rooms downstairs that I plan to convert to bedrooms, as well. Seth and I could move ahead on that project, if that would benefit you and Alma. In the meantime, I can certainly provide two beds instead of one.”
“We don’t wish to be trouble. It’s a blessing that you would allow Alma to stay.” Tears came to Mrs. Weaver’s eyes, and she looked down as if embarrassed. “I can’t afford to pay much more, however.”
“We won’t worry about that just now. Instead, we want to make sure Alma has what she needs.”
Clementine brought a tray of cocoa and cups. “Here we are. This should fortify us.”
The rain began to fall quite hard outside. Faith could hear the pounding on the roof. It sounded as if someone were pelting the house over and over with rocks. The others noticed it as well.
“I’m sorry Seth has to be out on a night like this,” Clementine declared, pouring cocoa into each cup. “I saved a mug for him on the stove. Hopefully it’ll keep warm.”
Nancy nodded. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.”
“I don’t think you should worry, Mrs. Weaver,” Mimi said, reaching over to give the older woman’s arm a squeeze. “There may be laws against the blacks living in Oregon, but few people are enforcing them. The black community has its own church and school, and many blacks even own businesses and homes. I believe better heads have prevailed against those ugly laws.”
“Yes, but they haven’t changed them.” Virginia Weaver looked at each of the ladies as if she were hoping someone might contradict her comment. No one did.
The truth was that the laws were clearly on the books, and if someone chose to make a case out of it, the law would support ridding the town and state of anyone who was black. Faith could understand Virginia Weaver’s fear. It seemed better to her to hide her friend away in a blanket box than to risk losing her altogether.
“It’s true the laws haven’t been changed,” Nancy said between sips of cocoa. “But they should be.”
“Still, with men like Gerome Berkshire fighting to rid the state of blacks and Indians, we can’t be too careful.” Faith looked at her cousin. “We can, however, continue to keep this secret.”
Nancy nodded. “Absolutely.”
“We won’t say a word,” Mimi agreed.
“You can count on me,” Clementine promised.
Mrs. Weaver exchanged a look with Alma. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I don’t know what to say but thank you. I know that’s not enough, especially after deceiving you as I did.”
“You did what you thought best for your friend.” Nancy gave her a warm smile. “I would have done the same and cannot fault you for your love.”
The front door opened, and the ladies all glanced toward the arched entry to the dining room. Seth came down the hall drenched, clearly intent on making his way to the bedroom. He stopped when he saw the women, however.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
