I sit on a stump, staring into the trees, praying tonight’ll be the night Henry comes back. I rest my hand on my belly and stroke over the baby with my thumb till I catch myself doing it and pull my hand away before someone sees.

Maple comes up to me, sucking her teeth. “What you doing way over here, letting your man dance with any young thing he sets eyes on?”

I keep my face pointed to the woods, so she leans right in front of me.

“You still hoping for that blacksmith, ain’t you? Running around here thinking you’re better than the rest of us ’cause you let some white man plow your field for a while.” She puckers her face and shakes her head. “How long you think Red’s going to put up with your mess?”

“Go away, Maple. I got nothing to say to you.”

“You better go dance with your man before he moves on to someone else.” She grabs my arms and yanks me to my feet, dragging me toward the circle.

“He ain’t my man,” I spit. I slap at her arms and twist free from her grip.

The neighing of a horse makes us both whip around and look. Master is on a large gray stallion, walking toward us, watching us. We straighten up and dip our heads.

When he’s right up in front of us, he says, “What’s this about?”

Neither one of us says a thing.

“Maple, I won’t have you spoiling this evening for Sarah. She and Red are celebrating.”

Maple casts a look of pure hate to me and then picks up her head. “She ain’t celebrating, Master. She ain’t dancing with Red ’cause she’s sulking after that blacksmith.”

Master looks at me and then over to Red who’s stopped dancing but still holds on to Willa in the middle of the circle. He lets her go and digs his hands into his pockets, looking away.

“That damn blacksmith.” Master yanks his horse’s reins and pulls him round, so the pair of them are standing right over me. “You listen to me, Sarah, and you listen good. I paired you with Red, and that was a kindness. If you keep pining for that devil, you’ll get the punishment you deserve. Now get over there and dance with your man.”

I hug my arms around myself and walk over to Red.

“Dance!” Master shouts.

And we hop. Stomping around to no music, waving our hands in the air like fools. Jim starts to clap out a rhythm for us and a few others join in.

“Hold her like she’s yours, Red.”

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. I set my hands on his shoulders. He presses me tight up against him, and I feel sick and dizzy, tripping over my own feet.

Master watches us from atop his horse. There ain’t nothing to do but keep hold on to Red and wait till Master’s seen enough.