He turns to me. “We’ll be back the day after tomorrow, in time for supper.”

“Yes, sir,” I say.

Henry helps Master Thomas down from the horse. He runs to his daddy who hefts him up on to his shoulders and carries him down the hill.

“And put that horse away,” Master calls over his shoulder.

Little Master Thomas turns back to wave at us and then, nearly losing his balance, clutches his daddy’s head with both hands. I smile after him.

“He’s a sweet lad,” Henry says, coming up to my side.

“Sure is,” I say. “It’d be easier if I could hate him.”

Henry looks at me, shocked.

I wait for him to understand and, when he don’t, I explain. “One day that little boy’s gonna own me. Wouldn’t you be ashamed to love someone like that?”

He’s quiet for a minute. Then he says, “The man who owned our land back home ground us into the dirt without even using his own heel. His manager did that for him, with Lord Edwards back in England somewhere getting fat on it. The hating was more straightforward.”

With no one watching us, I slip my hand into his and twine our fingers together. It’s a powerful thing, feeling understood.

“The loving was straightforward too,” he says, squeezing my hand.

We step apart, afraid to linger, and he takes the horse’s reins as we walk out of the enclosure. Stroking its neck, he says, “So, if the family’s away, does that mean you’ve got some time?”

I look at him sideways. “Means I don’t got Missus checking on everything I do, pretending she ain’t. But I still got Maple.”

“Because I was hoping, maybe this afternoon, if you can get away, you might like to come with me into the woods. We could go for a swim.”

It’s the craziest thing I ever heard.

“I can’t swim,” I say.

“I’ll teach you.”

I picture the two of us stripped down in the water and feel the blood rushing to my head, pricking my face. I glance away, biting my lip, wondering if I dare. He looks at me intense and pleading and, before I know it, I’m nodding.

“All right,” I say. “Let me put the horse away and finish sweeping out the house, and I’ll meet you at your forge.” I can’t believe myself.

He smiles. “I’ll be waiting.”

I bring the mare into her stall and since Red’s gone with Master and all them, I take the bridle from her mouth like Red and Henry both showed me. I fill up her water and fetch the brush to run over her flank. I brush too fast but I don’t want to slow down. I want to hurry up and get my work done and meet Henry.

I’m getting her hind legs when I feel a hand grab my waist.

Then I’m off my feet and I kick and flail, hefted like a sack of corn out of the stable door and into an empty stall full of hay across from the mare. There’s a smell of stale sweat and whiskey and I know before I look that it’s the overseer. He throws me down. My panic tastes like bitter rust as he closes the stable door behind us.