The white visitors to our farm stared at him and whispered, “Have you seen the size of this man?” And Timor has a monster in his forge.”
But here’s what nobody knew, what I was about to discover: Josiah was the kindest man I had ever met.
My father called me into his office in March 1856, a month after Foster’s rejection, and a month after I had given up hope of ever being single. He told me plainly, “A white man will not marry you.” This is the truth. But you need protection.
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