He turns red as a beetroot. That’s his conscience talking. But to me he says, “It taught me to never starve again, that’s what. I thought you learned the same lesson. Wasn’t that the point of changing your name, O’Toole?”

“I changed it because I wanted work, is all. I wanted a fair shot. Same as any man deserves.”

He leans in close and points his finger in my face. “I told you I mean to make my fortune,” he says. “I can’t do it if you’re out there with a Negro woman. Hiram Young can’t help his skin, that’s what folks’ll say, but Henry Taylor’s made a choice.”

The whole adventure is souring in my mouth.

“They won’t hire you, Henry. In fact, Missouri’s a slave state, now that I think on it. What you’re wanting to do is illegal. You’ll end up in jail. Or worse.”

“Then we’ll go further west. Into the territories.”

“You’ll not wreck this for me as well as yourself. I’m telling you right now, she’s not coming with us. Now, you forget all about her,” he says, as if that were an option, like throwing water on a cook fire.

“I can’t,” I say.

“You can’t even get her from the man that’s owning her, you bloody eejit. You said so yourself.”

A pulsing pain starts up at the base of my neck and I rub at it with both hands. “Aye,” I say. “That’s why I need you to help me.”

“You’re a loyal bastard and it does you credit, it does, but your loyalty should be to me as your partner. And to your own kind. Not to some other man’s slave.”

“She’s my wife.” I pound the bar and earn a glare from the barkeep.

“Holy God in Heaven. She’s not your wife.”

I don’t care to tell him about the ceremony we had that made it so, witnessed by God himself and a host of his butterflies. “In a manner of speaking,” I say.

“I’m telling you as a friend, this is madness. I know you’ve got a mighty fondness for her, but it will never work. You won’t get hired anywhere with a Negro woman at your side.”

He knocks his drink back and stands. “I’ll not help you ruin your life, and I’ll not let you ruin mine. Just ditch the girl, Henry. Come west with me and make your fortune. Be ready to leave tomorrow or I’m leaving without you.”

Chapter 64

Sarah

All day, Red never asks where I was last night, which is fine by me. When night settles over the plantation, I wait for the Big House to go to sleep. Then I creep to Bessie’s cabin, soft as a cat. I stretch out on my pallet, still pushed up against the far wall.

I think Bessie’s asleep, until she says, “When’re you gonna go to Red?”

I turn to the wall.

“Last night out there with your blacksmith. Tonight back here with me. How you think this is gonna end?”