“You wouldn’t be the first,” I said, growing uneasy about where the conversation might lead.

Pedrina shielded her eyes from the sun. “Your husband’s the reason why I am a free woman right now.”

I tried to hide the surprise that threatened to spread across my face. “How so?”

“He told Benito Gonçalves that he wouldn’t join his army unless he freed the slaves.”

“Oh,” I responded, feeling relief. “My husband and I share the same feelings on the matter. He says a country cannot call itself free if its people are bound in the barbarous act of slavery.”

At this point Imelda found her way back to our conversation. “My cousin told me she witnessed Garibaldi pulling a drowning slave out of a river. Is it true?”

I’d never heard the story before, but I affirmed the tale all the same. The women smiled. “You and your family are welcome back here anytime.”

When I walked through the door of our small shack, I found José shuffling some papers on our bed while Rossetti leaned against the wall, eating an orange. I asked the men about the story. Rossetti choked on his food. “Where did you hear about that?” he asked, trying to compose himself.

“The women,” I responded.

“Right, the women. Always the women.” Rossetti turned to José with a slight smile. “Back in Rio de Janeiro I was always pulling your husband out of trouble. Whether it be with a magistrate or someone’s husband.”

“Someone’s husband?” I questioned, looking from José to Rossetti.

“There was only the one,” my husband grumbled, not looking up at us.

“Only the one that was married, but I distinctly remember there being a number of fathers and brothers quite unhappy with you fraternizing with their daughters and sisters.”

“Rossetti,” José began, looking up from his papers, “I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell my wife all about my wanton youth.”

“I’m sorry,” Rossetti said, slipping the last bit of orange into his mouth and slowly chewing. My husband, satisfied that the conversation was over, went back to his paperwork. The Adam’s apple on Rossetti’s long neck bobbed as he swallowed. “I also remember promising that I would get even with you for all the trouble you caused, and today is your day of reckoning, my friend.”

José slapped down the paper in his hand. “I did not always cause the trouble.”

“Well, you sure as hell didn’t hide from it!” Rossetti turned to me. “Besides the women, your husband anointed himself the emancipator of every slave in Brazil.”

“Slavery is barbaric. No civilized society has any business participating in it,” José said, crossing his arms. “You couldn’t expect me to let injustice stand.”

“I can when we are outnumbered by Brazilian soldiers,” Rossetti responded.