Esther gently put down the soft bundle of gray fur and hopped up, brushing the dirt from her homespun dress with her small hands.
        Auntie Ruth was calling. “Esther, if yas don’t get yerself heah this instant, yer gonna be walloped by duh slave mastuh. Git yerself in heah, chil’!”
        With a soft gasp and wide eyes, Esther put an extra quickness to her step, hurrying toward the kitchen. Wait! Her pail! Running back, she gathered the tin pail and picked up the few scattered berries. She couldn’t forget the berries – not when Auntie Ruth had them on the menu for the evening meal.
        Esther skipped past the muddy pools of water, her course black braids bouncing with each step. The sun  above was hot, beating down on her thin shoulders and warming her dark skin.
        “Chile’ where ya?!” Auntie Ruth called again, slight impatience lacing her loud voice.
        “I’sa comin’, Auntie Ruth. Jus’ a moment!” She willed her short legs to go faster, while trying to make sure she didn’t loose any of the plump, juicy red berries. “This be ‘nough, Auntie Ruth?” Esther asked, her round, dark eyes looking up at the robust woman standing in the doorway.
        “Yeah, that be ‘nough, chile’.” Auntie Ruth’s voice softened a little, and she reached down to pat the little girl’s cheek.  “Ya done well, Esther. Now git on up ta the an’ offer yer ‘elp ta Miz Georgia.” She lovingly swatted Esther’s rear, shoeing the girl on her way.
        Nodding vigorously, Esther turned and scurried across the yard, panting heavily from the afternoon heat.

        “Esther, why are you standing in the doorway all alone?” Georgia Metcalf diverted her gaze from her callers, and let her eyes rest on the small girl standing in the doorway.
        “I didn’ wanna ‘rupt yer speakin’, Miz Georgia,” she explained quickly, her dark brown eyes glancing warily at the two gentlemen sitting opposite to her Mistress.
        Sensing Esther’s uneasiness, Georgia switched the subject. “Esther, would you please go and ask Gracie to bring some tea into the parlor for my guests?”
        Esther’s shoulders relaxed a little and she smiled. “Yes, Mis’ Georgia. I go an’ tal’ ta Gracie.” Humming softly, she skipped from the room and hurried back to the kitchen.
        “Is that the little five year old slave you adore? ” Harrison Smith inquired, watching as the girl hurried from the room.
        Georgia nodded, undaunted by the strange quirk in his voice. “She is such a sweet child.” A soft frown passed over her features, and she let her gaze drop to the floor. “I only wish Mr. Wilkins wasn’t so hard on them. He can be so brutal, sometimes.”
        “Georgia,” Harrison intervened. “Excuse me – Miss Metcalf.  That’s what those darkies are here for. They were built for work and hard labor and work. God created and put them on earth to be white man’s slaves.”
        Hearing his biggomist words, Georgia bristled. “They are still people, Mr. Smith. Not animals that are sold on the auction block for butchering. They have families, and feelings, and dreams, just like any other person – black or white. And little children,” she paused, her voice growing cool. “Doesn’t it ever pull at your heart to see them treated the way they are? Doesn’t Esther deserve pretty dresses and porcelain dolls? What makes her any different from any other child?” Her blue eyes rested an accusing glance at Harrison.

        Kyle Gresham sat silently, listening to the exchange between Georgia Metcalf and Harrison Smith. He disagreed heartily with the other young man – no one, black or white deserves to be treated as the slaves were and Harrison’s callus words made Kyle wince.
        Harrison Smith was always such a charmer, sweeping every young woman around the country off her feet.  For obvious reasons, most other young men didn’t care for him.

        “Forgive me, Miss Metcalf. It seems as though I have caused discord.” Harrison leaned forward and swept her hand into his, leaving a kiss behind.
        Kyle flinched slightly and turned away. Harrison Smith was such a charmer. The ladies were always swooning over him.
        Not sure how to respond, Georgia pulled back a little, apprehensively.  “I…o-of course, Mr. Smith.” But the frown didn’t leave her face.
        Clearly pleased, Harrison smiled and sat back, throwing his arm lazily over the arm of the settee. “Shouldn’t that dear little slave girl be back with the tea by now?”
        Georgia shook from her momentary daze, suddenly remembering Esther and her request for the girl to go and speak with Gracie about bringing tea. “Excuse me. I’ll go check on the tea.” Standing up, she hurried from the parlor, her silk skirts rustling loudly.
        “Esther? Are you in here?” She walked into the kitchen, searching for the young girl – who was no where to be found. “Gracie, Auntie Ruth? Where is everyone?” Confusion marked her petite features, and Georgia began to grow worried. Where had everyone gone?
        “Fire!”
        The word sent icy shivers up her back, as a strange fear gripped her heart. A fire? Someone had to be bluffing and a fire during the dead of summer was nothing to fool about. She pulled up her hem, and walked outside, planning on confronting the slave that called out the bluff.
        “Fire! Fire! The barn’s on fire!”
        Georgia froze, paralyzed with the uneasy feeling that rose in her stomach. Whoever had called it didn’t sound they were merely fooling around. Spinning on her heel, Georgia’s eyes opened wide at the sight of barn – bright orange flames quickly consuming inch after inch.
        “Fire!” she screamed, dropping the hold on her skirts.
        Her scream riveted through the yard, and was heard clearly in the parlor. “Georgia!” Harrison shouted in response, but made no move to get up. Kyle jumped up from his chair and ran out, gravely concerned.
         Dry, red dust was blowing, hindering his vision and causing him to choke. He had no idea of what was happening, but had to know if everything was all right.

        “Esther! Where are you?!” Georgia called, trying to cover her eyes from the blinding dirt. “Dear Esther, where are you?” She stumbled through the panic slaves, determined to find the little girl and make sure she was safe.
        Slaves – both men and women – ran back and forth, lugging buckets of water, frantically attempting to douse the licking flames. However, the more water they seemed to pour, the more vigorous the flames seemed to become.
         “Miss Georgia! What are ya doin’ out here?” Sam, one of the older male slaves, called, momentarily pausing from his bucket filling. “Ya shouldn’ be out ‘ere!”
        Georgia half-laughed with relief at hearing a familiar voice. “Oh Sam; dear old Sam. What happened? Do you know where Esther is? I can’t find her anywhere!”
         “Las’ I ‘eard, Cook waz takin’ the chil’ren up ta the meetin’ ‘ouse ta get ‘em away from the fire. Ya shoul’ go an’ join ‘em, Miss Georgia. Massuh wouldn’ like it if ya got yerself hurt!” The old slave looked sincerely at his Mistress, the wrinkled face marked with concern.
        Before he could object, Georgia turned and hastily began her searching. “Auntie Ruth!” she shrieked with joy, calling to the old woman. “Auntie Ruth, have you found Esther? Is she with the rest of the children in the meeting house?” Gasping for breath, Georgia peppered Auntie Ruth with questions.
         “Miz Georgia, ya shouldn’ be out heah in de yard! What ‘ill  Mastuh Dan’l say?” Her dark eyes held Georgia’s blue ones.
         “Don’t worry about me, Auntie Ruth. Where is Esther?!” She demanded again, more urgently this time. “Is she with the rest of the children at the meeting house?”
         “Shoul’ be there, chil’. I’s take ya there.” Auntie Ruth took hold of Georgia’s arm and led her up the hill, finally reaching the meetinghouse – where they were greeted by anxious faces and nervous laughter.
        Georgia scanned the small see of faces, searing for the impassable pair of Esther’s round, dark brown eyes. They weren’t there – again and again she looked. But they weren’t there. Lydia, Jericho, Charity, Jonny, Moses...every one of the children were there; except for Esther.
        A cold fear gripped her heart. “Where could she be, Auntie Ruth? We have to find her and make sure that she is safe!”
        “I’s know we gonna fin’ huh. Jus’ gotta look a lil’ harder.” Auntie Ruth pursed her lips and squared her large shoulders. “Miz’ Georgia, don’ ya fret. We fin’ lil’ Esther.”
        They searched on, checking the spinning house, kitchen, main house, out house, and springhouse and every other place on the plantation that they could check in a matter of minutes. But Esther was still no where to be found.
         “What ‘bout the barn, Miz Georgia? We ain’t checked there!” Wasting no time, Auntie Ruth carried her heavy frame across the yard, heading straight for the barn – the <I>burning barn.
        “Auntie Ruth! She couldn’t be in the barn! It’s on fire!” Georgia followed after the old woman, trying to keep up with her pace. “Oh Auntie Ruth, what will we do?!”
        “Stop yer frettin’, Miz Georgia. Ain’t helpin’ ya any.” Auntie Ruth chastised gently, trying to ease the younger woman’s worry. “Esther, Esther baby! Where is ya?” she called out, attempting to locate the little girl.
        “Auntie Ruth, don’t!” Georgia screamed again as Auntie Ruth started for the burning building. “You’ll never find her in all that smoke and we’ll be now better off than we are now. It’s too dangerous!” She pleaded, begging the other woman to stay out of the flames.

        Choking from the acrid smoke, Esther blinked her tearing eyes, and collected the small kittens in her arms, trying her best to protect them from danger. She felt hot, her head ached and the ever thickening smoke was filling her lungs, making it difficult to breath. “Shhh, lil’ kitties. I’s git ya out an’ then I’s give ya a nice, warm bed ta sleep in.” She hugged them tightly against her, keeping them close.
        In fear, the runt of the litter meowed loudly, raking her sharp claws down Esther’s bare arm.  “Ouch! Naughty kitty.” Esther’s lip trembled as she fought to keep the tears from rolling down her sooty cheeks. She was scared, and burning hot, wanting nothing more than be out of dangers way.
        “Esther!” Someone shouted again and again.
        Despite the crackling of the flames, Esther strained to hear the voices she thought were calling her name. “Miz Georgia, I’s in heah! I’s in heah!” She quickened her pace, as much as her small legs would allow.
        Before she reached the door…
        CRACK.
        “IEH!” Esther’s shrill scream tore through the yard, startling everyone.

        Kyle pushed his way through the large crowd of gathered slaves, making his way for the barn. He heard the loud crack as well as Esther’s scream that followed shortly after. “Dear Father in Heaven, please let her be all right…” he prayed softly.
        “Esther? Esther!” Kyle entered the burning barn cautiously through the back, holding an arm protectively in front of his face. “Esther, can you hear me?” He called persistently, determined to find the lost little girl.

        Scared beyond reason now, Georgia grasped Aunt Ruth’s arm tightly. “I can’t just let her in there, Aunt Ruth. I would never be able to forgive myself!” She curled her right hand into a fist, her nails digging painfully into her palms. Gathering her full skirts, she hastily ran forward, facing the fire head on, not daring herself to look back.
        “Miz Georgia! Miz Georgia! Ya git yerself right back out here!” Auntie Ruth shouted. She lunged to stop the young woman, but missed. “Dear Lord of Mercy, please keep an’ extra eye out fer Miz Georgia!”
         “Esther, Esther, can you hear me? Where are you?!” Georgia shouted above the roar of the flames, struggling through the heat, smoke and burning in her eyes. She choked, wrestling to keep the smoke from suffocating her.

        “Esther, Esther, can you hear me? Where are you?!” The sound of a feminine voice nearby caused Kyle to stop dead in his tracks. It was familiar – too familiar. What in the world was Georgia Metcalf doing in a burning barn, ready to collapse? She was crazy!

        Heaving a determined sigh, Georgia pressed forward, pushing a lock of hair out of her face. She stumbled, her silk skirt and petticoats growing damp and heavy from the burning heat. She was so tired… but she couldn’t stop. Esther was somewhere… she had to find Esther.
         “Esther!”

        Unexpectantly, Kyle knocked into a fallen jumped beam, nearly tripping to his knees. He scrambled up, not willing to let anything hinder finding the missing little go.
        “Esther, can you hear me? Where are you?!” he called again, ducking low to check every nook and cranny. Maneuvering his way around the beam, he almost tripped over something else. Dropping to his knees, he blinked away the tears in his eyes, trying to focus on the ground.
        “Esther sweet, is that you?” His voice was hopeful.
        The small body tensed in pain, Esther’s soft, sweet voice no louder than a whimper. “My kitties,” she whimpered. “Di’ ya fin’ my’s kitties?”
        “Shh, it’s all right. We’ll get your kitties, Esther. Can you move at all?” Kyle could her hear staggered breathing close to his ears. Brushing the brown hair out of his eyes, he groped around urgently in the dark, growing wary of the now crumbling barn.
        His fingers touched something rough – course – like the material of Esther’s dress. A small sigh of relief escaped his lips. The beam didn’t look too large; maybe he could push it enough to set her free? It was a worth a try.
        “Esther, I’m going to try and push this over so you can get out, okay? Be brave and think of your little kitties.” Kyle attempted to distract the little girl from the pain that was most likely plaguing her. He only wished he could be distracted.
        “All right, here goes. One…two…<I>THREE!” Kyle gave the broken beam a mighty shove, the blood pounding painfully in his head. Didn’t budge much. Again – again – and again.
        Suddenly, a kitten scrambled out, and climbed his arm, her claws digging deep into his arm. He jumped in surprise, tumbling backwards and landing on his posterior end. “What…?” A small smile spread across his lips. That last push must have done it!
        “Esther, I’m going ease you out, all right? Try to stay as still as you can!” He choked from the thickening smoke, quickly rubbing a sooty hand across his burning eyes.
        “Uh-huh…” Her pitiful whimper made his grimace.  “I be good.”
        “Good, Esther.  Good girl,” he encouraged, preparing to try and pull her out.  Much to his surprise and delight, it was simpler than he’d ever dreamed.  Within seconds, the Esther was free and hung limply in his arms.  “We’re going to run out of here real fast, so hold me tight.”
        Ducking his head low, Kyle caged the little girl’s body in his embrace and started the dangerous trek towards the front of the barn.  Burning embers and thick smoke clouded his vision and stung his skin, causing his face to twist in pain.  He could hear the innerving sound cracking timber behind them serving as a constant reminder why they couldn’t stop.
        “ESTHER!” The unmistakable call of Georgia tore through the burning barn.
        “Georgia!”  Kyle grabbed her arm and pulled her along with them, taking no time to chat. Startled, Georgia screamed, nearly tripping over the hem of her damp dress.  She caught her feet, and stumbled out after them.
        “Esther, is that my dear Esther?” she pleaded with him to tell her.  Kyle didn’t answer.  His one and only concern at the moment was to get them out – alive.

        Auntie Ruth took another bucket of water and threw it over the licking flames, although she knew it was a futile attempt.  Somehow…somehow she felt it would help them get out.
        The back of the barn was now gone, leaving her desperately praying that neither Georgia nor Esther had been back there.  If they had been…
        “Miz’ Georgia! Esther!” A joyful scream erupted from her throat the empty bucket was abandoned and dropped to the ground.  She pulled up the hem of her course, worn dress and ran to meet them, pushing her way through the crowd of slaves already gathering around.
        “Auntie Ruth, Auntie Ruth!”  Georgia’s voice was no louder than a whisper as she reached the old woman.  Tears of joy and fear rolled down her sooty cheeks, small prayers of thanks constantly filling her mind.  “I was so scared…”
        “Shush, now. You’s safe now, baby. You’s safe now.  Auntie Ruth is gonna take care o’ ya, so don’ts ya worry none bit.” She hugged her mistress tightly to her, rocking back and forth gently, trying to console Georgia’s tears.
        Then Auntie Ruth pulled back.  “Esther, where’s day baby Esther?”
Georgia stopped crying and paused, suddenly remembering the small child she’d run in after. Where was Esther?  Oh dear willow tree, if she was still…
        “My wittle kitties,” Esther asked softly, slowly bringing her big brown eyes to look up at the man holding her. “Di’ ya git my wittle kitties?”  Her soiled face creased with grave concern.
        “They’re all right, Esther. Your little kittens are right here, safe and sound.” Kyle smiled, motioning to the group of kittens meowing loudly on the ground.  When Auntie Ruth beckoned for him to lay the child on the ground, he carefully did so.
        “Kyle…” Georgia breathed, as if noticing him for the first time. He had saved Esther – risked his own life to save a little black slave girl. Harrison Smith – with all of his charms – never would have done such a thing!
        “Thank you. Thank you so much!”  Overcome with gratitude, she ran over and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Kyle stumbled back, having not expected her to do what she had just done. It was…well…surprising.
        From her perch on the ground beside Esther, Auntie Ruth shared a wide grin with the little girl. “Praise da good Lord almighty!”
 
 

The End