Page 10 of Meet Me on Greenwood

"Sarah is really special," I said. "I feel like a lucky man."

"So why have you not proposed?" he asked, dumping his ashtray. He sniffed it. "Is she not pretty enough?"

"No sir!" I said quickly. "She’s beautiful and smart."

"Maybe you are waiting for my permission?"

That wasn’t it, but it sounded like the most logical way to get out of the conversation. "I hadn’t found the right time."

"This is the perfect time," he said, watching me sternly. "You have my blessing to propose to Sarah this evening."

"This evening?" I said, coughing on my iced tea.

He rifled through his pocket and threw me a velvet box. "Go and make my little girl happy," he said, though I couldn’t tell if it was a suggestion, or a command.

I left the study, but I did not immediately look for Sarah. I needed to collect myself and decide if I was really doing this.

The hallway outside stretched longer than I remembered, lit by a single sconce that left more shadow than light. Voices and laughter drifted from the ballroom at the far end—muffled, distant, belonging to a future I wasn't sure yet was mine to have. I turned the other way instead, toward the narrower servants' corridor that cut behind the east wing, where I wouldn't be found smiling like an idiot at a ring box in my pocket.

In my haste to find a moment of solitude, I rounded the corner too fast and bumped into a figure who growled as he turned towards me. My mouth curled in distaste as my eyes landed on Gray Sterling, Sheriff Barnaby’s son. He hovered over a young Black girl, maybe fifteen, who he had pinned against the wall.

"Get out of here, Whitaker," he said. "I’m busy."

"I see that." The words came out sarcastically even as adrenaline coursed through my system, my hands curling into fists at my sides without my permission. I forced them open, smoothing my face into something that wasn't rage, because rage would get us nowhere. My breath caught realizing I had to find a way to dissuade him from whatever he intended to do. My conscience wouldn’t allow me to leave her here with him. "I was just looking for Sarah. Have you seen her?"

He looked confused by my asking. "No."

"I’ll find her," I said. "Sarah! Sarah!" I yelled loudly.

"What are you doing?" he said straightening his shirt and buttoning his pants.

"Looking for Sarah," I said innocently. "Sarah!"

After a few moments, Sarah walked in. She looked as if she’d refreshed her makeup and was wearing a different dress with a plunging neckline.

"Yes, Houston?" she smiled, but it faded as soon as she saw Sterling with the young girl. "What are you doing here?"

To my surprise, the comment was not directed at Sterling. She was yelling at the girl, as if she were the one in the wrong.

"I have a mind to have you switched. Get back to your quarters," Sarah scolded.

The girl straightened up quickly. "Sorry ma’am."

"What is your name?" Sarah demanded.

"Ma-Mary, ma’am."

"Mary," she said, assessing the girl from head to toe. "Don’t think I won’t dock your pay for the entire week for your indolence."

The girl’s eyes widened, but she said nothing. "Yes ma’am. May I get back to work?"

Sarah turned her attention to Sterling, then to me, as if she was trying to piece together a puzzle.

"Go!" she said to the girl, "before I make it two weeks."

As Mary left, Sarah cleared her throat once before turning back to me. "Houston, I’ll be outside whenever you would like to join me."

She gave Sterling one more warning look, and surprisingly, he looked apologetic. It didn’t last long though, because as soon as she was out of the room, he stepped close enough to me that I could smell the spirits on his breath.