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Sunday. I mean, if that’s not too forward of me to say.”
    Jo shook her head. “No, it isn’t.”
    He smiled. “Good.”
    For a girl who had no use for a beau, Jo wondered why her heart seemed to be beating so rapidly. “Thanks for the help with the dishes.”
    “My pleasure.”
    Jo left the porch and headed for her buggy. She swore she was walking on clouds.

    The next morning, Jo and Belle drove to the church for the funeral. Cecilia had not returned last night, so they would meet her at the church as planned.
    Belle was driving the buggy and Jo was on the seat beside her.
    Jo said, “I know we’re on our way to a funeral, but I need to talk to you about something.”
    Belle looked over. “What is it?”
    Jo paused a moment to try and gather her words. “George.”
    Belle smiled. “Ah. How is George?”
    “He’s doing well. I saw him yesterday.”
    “And what does George do for a living?”
    Jo chuckled. “You sound like Mama.”
    “Just helping you get ready for the Cecilia Inquisition.”
    Jo found the words amusing even though they were true.
    “You measuring George for a beau?”
    Jo giggled. “No. I barely know him.”
    “Well, what do you know?”
    “That he’s very nice.”
    “And?”
    “That he’s from Jackson, and his family escaped slavery when he was ten.”
    “And?”
    “His father is dead, but he has a mother and a sister.”
    “And?”
    Jo shrugged. “That’s all I know.”
    “Is he married?”
    Jo paused over that question. “I don’t think so. He didn’t mention that he was.” She then stated, “Surely he would have told me, if he were. Wouldn’t he?”
    Belle shrugged. “I don’t know, but I suppose you’re right.”
    Jo raised a fingernail to her teeth. The habit helped her think better. “Now you have me full of doubts, Belle. Thanks.”
    Belle ignored the sarcastic tone. “I’m just being Cecilia. Better you know the answers now than not.”
    Although Belle’s advice was sound, Jo didn’t believe George was married; at least, he hadn’t acted as if he were.
    Belle said, “Well, now that we’ve established that George is a fine, upstanding gentleman, and probably not married, what did you wish to talk to me about?”
    Jo thought for a moment. “The way I feel when I’m around him.”
    “How do you feel?”
    “Like I’m not me.”
    Belle glanced over. “Explain.”
    “Well, I get all tingly inside and I want to spend a lot more time with him.”
    “Maybe you are measuring him for beau material.”
    “But I don’t want a beau.”
    “So you say.”
    “So I know, Belle Best. I’m going to be an independent working woman.”
    “And there’s nothing wrong with that, but sometimes your heart has other ideas.”
    “You mean, I may fall in love with him?”
    Belle shrugged. “Who knows?”
    Jo leaned back against the seat. “I’m not falling in love with him.”
    “No one says you have to, silly, but don’t become so set on your life’s goals that you shortchange your heart. If George is the one for you, you’ll know. If he isn’t, you’ll know that, too.”
    Jo thought Belle’s advice felt right. “Thanks, Belle.”
    “You’re welcome.”

four
    The field surrounding the church was filled with buggies and wagons. To Jo, it appeared as if everyone in town had turned out to pay their final respects to the Firestone men. Belle finally found a place to park the buggy, then she and Jo joined the silent procession heading for the church.
    Jo and Belle took a seat in the filled-to-capacity sanctuary. When Trudy arrived, she slid in next to them. The air in the church was heavy with grief, the mourners subdued and sitting quietly. Everyone had on black.
    Jo could see her mother seated up front with Mrs. Firestone. Beside Vera sat her husband’s last living family member, his brother, Carl. Carl and Vera were famous for not getting along, and had never seen eye to eye over anything except their mutual love for Dexter and Isaac, but there would