“Lots of fine things you can do with a ham,” Sarah agreed as she split biscuits in half and layered ham and cheese in the middle. “Soon that bone will end its days in a pot of bean soup. But it’s a pity we don’t have fancier food on hand. If ever a funeral deserved celebrating, it’s this one!”
Callie laughed, then covered her mouth with one hand. “I keep thinking I should be more respectful, but I can’t.”
“Justice was done, and we got away with it,” Sarah said with a glint of humor in her eyes. “I can tell you that a heavy, heavy load has been lifted from my soul.”
“I’m starting to feel less dreadful about what I did.” The griddle had been heating over the small fire, so Callie melted a knob of butter, then covered the cast iron surface with ham and cheese biscuits.
As the cheese gently melted and the biscuits browned, Callie wiped her hands on a small towel. Without looking at her friend, she said, “Richard has asked me to marry him for real, not just to fool the doctor and the vicar.”
“Are you going to say yes?” Sarah asked with interest.
“I don’t know,” Callie said in a low voice. “When he first asked in Washington, the idea seemed out of the question. I had too many other responsibilities. But the more time that passes, the harder it is to imagine not having him around.”
“Your Lord George, or Gordon or Richard or Audley or whatever he calls himself, is a fine man and he thinks the sun rises and sets on you.” Sarah grinned. “And as handsome a fellow as I’ve ever seen. Why are you dragging your heels?”
“Because you’re my family, and I can’t bear the thought of leaving you!” she blurted out painfully. “And I’d have to leave because Richard wants to return to his home in England.”
“Miss Callista, you look at me instead of that griddle,” Sarah said firmly. When Callie raised her gaze, Sarah continued, “You are the beloved angel of my family. You carried us out of slavery like God’s own chariot and you supported us when we hadn’t a penny to bless ourselves with.
“Best of all, you gave us the chance to raise our heads and become free and independent. You gave us the lives we have now and the futures we can look forward to.” Her voice softened. “Now it’s time to move into your own life. If you love him, why not marry him?”
“I don’t know that I love him the way you and Josh love each other, or the way Molly and Peter feel about each other. Richard and I were best friends. I think we still are. Is that a strong enough foundation for marriage?”
“Every marriage has its own story,” Sarah mused. “They all start in different places and follow different paths. Josh and I fell in love when we were about the same age as Molly and young Peter, and we jumped over the broom together long before we were able to get officially married in a church. Did you know that Master Matthew bought me from another plantation so me and Josh could be together?”
“I didn’t know that,” Callie said, startled at her ignorance of another large piece of her friend’s story. “That was incredibly kind of him.”
“Josh asked him to buy me and he did because he valued Josh and I was cheap, just being a scullery maid at the time,” Sarah said with a laugh. “He got a bargain since I turned into such a fine cook.
“But he didn’t have to make it possible for us to be together, and I’ve never forgotten.” Her voice turned nostalgic. “Josh and I loved each other then and we love each other now, but that love has grown and changed over the years. It’s quieter, deeper, stronger. Beyond anything we could imagine when we were young and just wanted to get each other naked.”
“I don’t have to know that!” Callie exclaimed. “It’s like thinking of my parents sharing a bed.”
Sarah laughed. “I’m just saying that if you don’t love your man now the way you think you should, I guarantee you’ll come to love him in ways you’ve never dreamed of. You’re a good woman and he’s a good man, and together you’ll find good ways of loving.”
Callie drew a deep, slow breath. “So you’re giving me your blessing?”
Sarah crossed the small kitchen to draw Callie into her arms. “I am. You’ve lived for us for so long. Now it’s time to live for yourself. Doesn’t mean we won’t still love you or you don’t love us. We’ll write lots of letters. Maybe you’ll come for a visit someday, or maybe we’ll visit you. I’ve a mind to see London before I die.”
Callie hugged Sarah, wishing her own mother had been so warm and wise. Then she smelled something scorching and pulled away to swiftly flip the biscuits on the griddle before they burned.
Sarah had given her much to think about. Her friends didn’t really need her anymore. The thought was sad—but it was also liberating.
Chapter 28
The half dozen chairs on the balcony had been improved with padded burlap sacking and they made a fine gallery for viewing the bombardment of Baltimore. Callie and Sarah carried out platters of steaming ham and cheese biscuits, a pitcher of lemonade, and two small bowls of pickled onions.
Like the Pied Piper of Hamelin, they lured followers, in this case Molly and Trey, who had woken up hungry. Trey used an improvised cane Josh had fashioned for him.
Sarah asked, “How are you feeling? You look stronger.”
“I’m fine,” her grandson said cheerfully as he took a chair beside his grandfather. “I can go back to the battlefield tomorrow.”
“No, you willnot!” Sarah and Callie said in unison. Sarah continued, “This battle will be won or lost without you. You’ve done your part.”
Callie chose the chair next to Gordon. Within patting distance, he was pleased to see as he bit through the crispy crust of a ham and cheese biscuit and washed it down with a swallow of lemonade. Lightly spiked with brandy, he noted. Sarah knew how to soothe a household in difficult times.
After swiftly demolishing a biscuit, Callie asked, “How goes the battle?”
