“He ain’t got no place a body could stay,” says Willa. It’s like they’ve been discussing this between them.

“Wants to go out west,” says Annie.

Red pats Bessie’s shoulder.

“We’ll come up with something,” Samson says.

“Would one of you please tell me why you’re all so interested in my having a house?”

They look at each other. Bessie gives a nod, and Annie blurts out, “Master freed Bessie.”

I stare at her. I can’t be hearing right.

“Least, he says he will, soon as he gets around to going by the courthouse for the papers,” she says.

“Freed?” is all I can manage to say.

“For a lifetime of being good and faithful to her master,” Red says with bitter scorn.

“She ain’t got no place to go,” says Callie May, “so we was thinking she might could stay with you.”

“Me?”

“You ain’t like most white folk,” says Annie. “We thought you might help.”

I could rip Matthew Johnson’s head off, the bastard. He won’t free Sarah for love or money but then turns around and does this. I should say something kind to Bessie, but the bitter disappointment gags me.

“We know what you tried to do,” Callie May says, sitting beside her husband on Bessie’s bed. “It was a good thing.”

“I still mean to do it,” I say. “I just need to find another way.”

“See, that right there makes you different,” she says, studying me with bright eyes. “Folks thought you’d move on, but here you be. Sticking by your woman.”

“Not just sticking by. Selling up to buy her free,” Clover says, taking her hand. “How a man gets his money and what he does with it shows the soul of him.”

I’m surprised at how grateful I feel to be praised and welcomed. “What’s between Sarah and me,” I say, running my nails along the wood planks of the table, “it’s not something you move on from.”

Samson hands me a bottle of something clear and claps me on the shoulder. Whatever it is burns all the way down.

“I still say, he ain’t got no business messing with her,” Red says.

“Leave it, Red,” Annie says. “It don’t got nothing to do with you.”

“No. I’m gonna say my piece. It’s his fault she’s out there.”

“What’s he talking about? Where’s Sarah?” I stand, anxious.

Red points his finger at me, and I brace for what’s coming. “You got her put in the field,” he says.

By the faces of the others, I know it’s true.

“That ain’t on him,” Callie May says.

“Who else it on? You? Me? He needs to leave her be, or it’s gonna get worse for her.”

In the tense silence, Sarah walks in carrying a bowl of floating leaves. The sight of her goes right to my bones. When she sees me standing in the crowded room, she lights up. I twine my arms around her, holding her, feeling a flood of relief, like cold water over a burn.