won’t get into trouble. We’ll take it slow and steady.”
“Your brother wrote me a letter, telling me again what a good worker you are. Don’t prove him wrong, young lady.”
She would have liked to see the letter, just to have another piece of her brother. “Johnny’s never wrong about anything.”
Dr. Carter nodded, satisfied with the answer.
Sadie stepped into the kitchen, savoring the warmth as it soaked into her bones. She wished she could store some of that heat somehow for the ride home later.
“I’ll let Olivia know you’re here. There’s a plate of biscuits on the table if you’re hungry. Your brother says you always have an appetite.”
That surely was true. “Thank you.”
Unrolling his sleeves, he pushed through the swinging doors and vanished inside the house. She lifted a red-and-white-checkered cloth. Underneath was a plate of beautiful warm biscuits staring up at her. She took a bite out of the first and then gobbled the rest of it in seconds. It would have been better to eat it slowly like a lady, but there had been little extra at breakfast this morning at home. She had told her mother to eat the extra herself because she had been ailing from a cold for a couple of weeks.
Sadie removed a handkerchief and wrapped two biscuits and stuffed them in her pocket. Heeled footsteps sounded in the outer hallway as she pushed a second biscuit whole in her mouth.
Miss Olivia pushed through the swinging door, hurriedly brushing back a dark curl from her milk-white skin. She was dressed in a brown dress with embroidered flowers along the hem, which hit her slender legs midcalf. Her shoes were polished and looked made of soft calfskin, matching the purse dangling from her forearm.
“Good morning, Miss Thompson,” Olivia said.
Sadie swallowed and smiled. “Morning to you, ma’am.” Biscuit crumbs gathered on her cuff, which she quickly brushed away. “You can call me Sadie. Everyone does.”
“Sadie it is, then.”
Edward arrived, and Olivia smiled up at him and kissed him meekly on the cheek.
Some of the frown on Dr. Carter’s face softened. “I want you to be careful today.”
Olivia grinned. “I will.” She opened her purse and removed gloves. “I don’t see how a ride in the country can be all that dangerous.”
“The roads are still icy in spots.”
“I’ve survived far worse.” Olivia sniffed.
Ignoring the comment, Dr. Carter shrugged on his own wool coat. “If you ladies will follow me, I’ll show you the car.”
Unhurried, Olivia carefully tugged on a soft kid glove. “Have you really been driving since you were twelve, Sadie?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m from London, and many of us don’t drive at all.”
“Driving is the way to get around these parts unless you’re willing to walk or hitch.”
“How far is it to Charlottesville?”
“Twenty-plus miles, give or take.”
“Ah.”
Edward opened the kitchen door, allowing in a blast of cold air. He waited for Olivia and Sadie to pass before he followed, pulling the door closed behind him. “Ladies, let’s get you to the garage and see if Sadie is as good a driver as her brother says.”
Sadie was better, especially if she could reach the pedals, but she chose not to point that out. Her driving would put an end to Dr. Carter’s doubts.
As a cold wind careened over the hill from the river, the trio walked toward what looked like a barn. Dr. Carter’s quick steps set a fast pace, and though Sadie could keep up well enough, she expected to look back and see Miss Olivia lagging. She was surprised to see the woman a few steps behind, matching her step for step.
Edward pushed open the barn doors, but instead of horses inside, there was a row of three cars. On the right, a farm truck, and it was the plainest of the three but far nicer than her truck. Next to it was a blue Ford Deluxe coupe with a sleek polished body. Beside it was a green Pontiac station wagon with a big back seat and wood paneling on the side.
A thrill of excitement raced through Sadie as she thought about driving one of the Carter family’s fancy cars. Her brother had told her a car was a car, and if she could shift gears in one, she could in another. The main difference, he had mused, was that the fancier models did what they were told, whereas Old Blue had to be sweet-talked into starting sometimes.
These were the kinds of cars she had seen starlets driving on magazine covers. In Charlottesville, there were a