I say, “I need someone serving with me,” and they both look up. I take Willa and leave Sarah where she is.

When we walk into the dining room, Miss Martha looks at me surprised. I ain’t come serving in a long time.

“Where’s Annie?” she asks. “And Sarah?”

I cut a look to Master, who’s got his scowl-mouth on, but she asked me, so I tell her, “Annie got a bad whipping, and Sarah’s tending to her lashes.”

“What’s this?” Miss Martha says, looking to her husband. Worry lines wrinkle her forehead.

Master flicks open his napkin and lays it on his lap. “Her ten lashes were well deserved.”

No one counted those lashes, but I’d wager it was closer to fifty.

“Thieving is against the Ten Commandments and the laws of Virginia.” He reaches out and pats her hand. “Annie’s been justly dealt with.”

After supper, me and Willa leave the dishes stacked up and the dining room half cleared to check on Annie. Sarah’s not there, but Bessie is, laying damp cloths over mounds of paste on Annie’s back.

“Where’s Sarah?” I ask.

“In the woods,” she says, feeling her way from Annie’s backside to the bowl.

She must be finding more herbs and weeds for her concoctions. For Annie. I let her be; me and Willa can take care of the dishes.

Chapter 33

Henry

In the woods by the river, the night sounds rise with the moon. The owls compete with the bullfrogs and, through the chorus of cicadas, I hear her call, “Henry.”

I turn to see her coming up behind me. She’s been pushing me away for days, but when I sweep her up into my arms she lets me, and thank God she does because I don’t think I could let her go. She holds me tight against her and I am so relieved I cry.

“It wasn’t you,” I whisper.

She shakes her head and tucks it against my neck, wetting my collar with tears of her own.

“Oh, God. I thought it was you,” I say, and I hold her closer. It’s too tight, I know, but I can’t think what to do but hold her tight. We stay like this for a while, until I can slowly loosen my arms. But I can’t let her go. I’ve stopped my blubbering and I’m just trying to get my breathing back. “If that bastard ever whips you, I’ll kill him.”

She lays her fingers on my lips. “Don’t talk that foolishness.”

I take her hand in mine and kiss her fingers. I’m afraid she’ll pull away, but she doesn’t, so I place her palm on my cheek and lean my head into it. “I won’t let him hurt you,” I say.

When Sarah looks at me, I see the trace of her tears on her cheeks and I reach up and wipe the wet away with my thumbs.

“It ain’t gonna be up to you,” she says. “You don’t own me, Henry.”