

Finding North   
A Tale of Surviving the Civil War

By: Ruby Elaine Gardner

Transcribed By:

Her Granddaughter Rebecca Gardner

Edited By:

Aimee LaRue

Original Manuscript Written Circa 2009

Published: 2019

Copyright © 2019 by R. L. Gardner

For all inquiries please email:

findingnorththenovel@gmail.com

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

First Printing: 2019
Ruby Elaine Gardner

### 1937-2009

Ruby Gardner was born and raised in the Catskill Mountains of New York. She married Harry Gardner and together they raised 9 children whom she loved dearly. Those of us lucky enough to have been able to call her mom or grandma know just how special a woman she was. Ruby was a gifted "maker" of everything from stories and fairytales to quilts, paintings, clothing and even wedding cakes. She was always creating something new but the thing she loved the most was spending time with her children and grandchildren.

This book was given to me by my grandmother before she died in the form of multiple handwritten spiral notebooks. Grandma was a gifted storyteller but her cursive handwriting and faded notebooks were a massive project to decipher, which is why it's taken me a decade to finally sit down and transcribe this. We tried to keep the editing to a minimum to preserve the essence of grandma's story. The vast majority of this book is straight out of grandma's handwritten notebooks.

Special thanks to my husband Michael for helping me decipher grandma's handwriting.

# Chapter 1

Brookneal Virginia, 1864...

The clash of swords, the boom of cannons, all mingled with the screams of men and horses as the battle raged across the meadows. Trembling, Kim and Jamie huddled against the back wall of the dim cellar. Kim sobbed and Jamie prayed.

A horse had ridden over the roof. The roof, old and made of dirt and sod had given way and the horses leg had snapped. For hours, the leg hung there kicking, sending clods of dirt raining down on their heads.

Jamie had pulled Kim close to the door. He had been afraid the roof would give way, sending a pain crazy horse down on them. Kim had screamed with every kick. Nothing he could say would quiet her. Jamie heard the shot that put the horse out of its misery. Blood had run all over the floor inviting a swarm of flies that drove them both into a frenzy of swatting.

Finally, they had given up. Neither had the strength left to fight. This was the fourth day they had been without food. Thankfully there was a spring here, the water in the basin ran red with the horse's blood but the pipe that fed it was beyond where the leg hung suspended and still provided fresh water.

Jamie moved some of the baskets from a back shelf. He had helped Kim get settled and in no time she had fallen asleep. He couldn't see how she could sleep; the fighting had grown louder.

Above him, the dead horse lay sprawled across the roof. Its mate lay across the other way, the cannon that they had been forced to pull now hung across the outer cellar door. Jamie and Kim were safe but they didn't know it. There was no way to see. In there it was as dark as night. They had used the last of their candle. Jamie lay waiting for the doors to be opened. There would be nothing he could do about it. His gun had been lost while crossing a rain swollen creek. Now all he could do was wait to be found. He hoped his size and age would save him. He was all Kim had left.

Kim awoke to movement. Sitting up, she was about to scream. The shelf she lay on was definitely moving. Terrified, she screamed and hung on as the shelf swayed.

"Jamie!"

"Kim!" Jamie cried. "Where are you?"

"Here Jamie! Here!" she tried to get off the moving shelf.

Jamie stumbled through the dark towards Kim's voice. All at once, the ground fell away and he sprawled on a stoop of stone stairs, whacking his knee on the sharp sides.

Grabbing for a hold, he stopped himself from falling. His hand came away wet and muddy. An underground spring he thought. A hidden spring! Above him he heard Kim ask "Jamie?" in a terror filled voice.

"I'm here, below you. There's a hidden run off for the spring. It's been all laid up with stone. I wish I had a light."

"I do to," came Kim's tear filled voice. "Help me down," she begged, hiccupping.

Jamie felt his way back to the door. He wondered if there might be a lantern or candle on a shelf there.

"Naw," he muttered "That would be too much to ask."

"What would?" Kim sniffed, feeling safe now with Jamie's hand in hers. They stood listening for sounds from the spring run. There were none.

"You hear that?" Jamie whispered holding his breath to listen again.

"Hear what?" Kim breathed close to his ear.

"The fighting, I don't hear it. We'd better hide behind the door." Pushing his feet ahead of him, Jamie eased down on the wet stones. Turning to help Kim, he heard the outer door creak open. Men's voices could be heard coming toward the inner cellar. Cold sweat broke out on Jamie's face. He slipped his hand over Kim's mouth. Kim nodded and pushed it away.

"I'm ok," she whispered, easing down on the wet steps. Jamie had the door almost closed when three men entered the room. A shaft of light fell across it and around the edges of the door.

Jamie took a quick look around before the crack of light was shut off. To the right and down the steps, he had seen another door. He pulled gently on Kim's hand.

"Come on," he breathed, "There's another door!"

But Kim stopped him.

"I saw a lantern behind this door," she whispered.

"Thank God!" he breathed. "Can you reach it? Don't make a sound"

Kim felt for the lantern. There was a tinderbox beside it. She gasped as the box slid through her fingers. It hit her foot, making her cry, then slid to the stone floor with a loud clunk.

From the other side of the door a man said, "Yah hear that?"

It went quiet for several seconds. Then another voice stated in a worried manner, "Might be this here roof's a-caving in. There's two horses and a cannon up yonder."

"Ain't nothing to eat here no how anyways," another added disgustedly. "I'm for heading home. This here army ain't got no food and I'm thin as a wheat stalk."

"Musta been someone else got here before us. I know there was food here last week. I checked." The first man said.

"Let's get a-going" another muttered, "Gives me the creeps."

In minutes, there was quiet from the rooms beyond. Jamie took Kim's hand and stumbling along, his other hand on the wall, he felt for the door. Quietly he took the lantern from Kim's hand. She retrieved the tinderbox from her pocket and Jamie lit the lantern. Jamie was amazed to see that the stairs ran up past the cellar door. The door in front of them was narrow and short. He pushed it open carefully lest it squeak and someone hear.

The room beyond was small but filled with food. This must be the food the men in the cellar were talking about. Someone had moved it all down here.

"Watch for snakes," he warned Kim. He needn't have worried. Snakes had been on her mind since they had first entered the outer cellar.

Once inside, the two surveyed the store of food. Someone had gone to great lengths to hide it. Along the back wall stood shelves of canned food. Jars of meat and fruit gleamed in the lantern light. Along one wall were crocks and barrels. The smell of brine and the earthy smell of potatoes mixed with apples and hams that hung from the rafters and stone ceilings made their stomachs growl.

Fear held them dead in their tracks. Where were the people that owned this food? Would they be mad enough to kill them if they found them here?

"One thing's sure," Jamie said with a huge sigh. "If we don't eat soon, we're gonna die anyway."

Kim moved forward as if in a dream. Food, food everywhere and she didn't care if whoever owned this food came home or not. No one should starve if there was food to eat. Kim took a jar of what looked like chicken from the back shelf. With great care, she removed the lid and the lovely smell of chicken filled the room. Between them, they cleaned the jar. They ate an apple each and sat back, full and just a little sick with guilt.

Jamie, exhausted from his long nights and days with nothing but water, lay back on the straw filled carrot bin.

"Better put out that light," he mumbled. "I put a bar in that door. Ain't nobody gonna walk in unannounced."

Kim pulled a burlap bag over herself and blew the lantern out.

"I was afraid we'd starve," she breathed as she, too, fell asleep.

The smell of smoke filtered down through the tunnel. Dirt sifted down on the two as they slept. Jamie awoke and lay still as death. He thought he had heard voices. Now he smelled smoke. Confused and still almost asleep, he wondered if the house was on fire.

Rearing up, he almost fell from the carrot bin. The feel of straw and carrots brought back the real world and he grunted, sweat beading his face in a slimy film.

"Kim!" he called into the dark, "Wake up, there's a fire someplace, we gotta move!"

Kim came out of a deep sleep with a jerk.

"Grab the dog!" she shouted.

Following her voice, Jamie made his way across the room. When he touched her foot, she screamed.

"Shush!" Jamie ordered, "Where's the lantern?"

Still groggy with sleep, Kim gave the lantern and tinderbox to Jamie. With the light lit, Jamie looked around. He could smell smoke, but just faintly.

"Must be a fire near the spring," he said. "You stay put, I can't keep watch over you and do a quick search, too. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Before Kim could give him a hard time, he was gone. Kim felt cut off from the outside world and filled with terror as she put the bar to the door back in place. At least no one could get in.

Turning the lantern almost out, she huddled among the bags. The flickering light sent long moving shadows across the room. Several times, she thought she heard voices, but when she opened the door, the voices seemed to disappear.

Jamie had been gone for a long time. Kim wanted to go looking for him but the sound of voices kept her seated. Finally she rose, turned up the lantern and started feeling the wall. Going to the shelf of cans, she looked along it. If the cellar had a wall that moved, maybe there was one here.

Thinking about the shelf she had rested on in the other cellar, she checked that shelf here. Moving the jars she found what looked like a short board. Twisting it first one way then another she felt the wall give. With heart thrashing, she eased the door open an inch at a time. There, running upward, was another stairway, the steps dry. From above, she saw a glow of light and swirls of smoke. Drawing the door shut, she sat waiting, trembling with fear for Jamie.

The sound of voices had stopped long ago. Jamie wished he had the lantern. Finally, he retraced his steps. Along the way, he felt two more doors. The light shining through the cracks in the door led him to where Kim waited. Jamie tapped the door three times. When Kim let him in her face was white as snow.

Quietly, he slid inside.

"What?" he asked gently.

Still shaken and afraid Kim opened the shelf. Smoke filtered down the stairs. "Must be a fire in an out building or the house."

"We've got to find a safer place to hide," Jamie whispered. "I found two more doors. The voices have stopped. Let's have a look at them."

Closing the door, he examined the room. It was cool and dry, where the water ran was damp.

"You'd think this room would be damp too," he mused thoughtfully.

"Unless the stair door leading up was left open most of the time," Kim added, feeling the walls.

"It's like a rabbit warren down here," Jamie told her.

Less afraid now, he led Kim down the damp stairway. Along the way, the two found doors and stairs that led off in different directions.

"A person could hide down here for weeks," Jamie said. The rooms were empty. They had been swept clean. "Funny these rooms look as though they have never been used."

# Chapter 2

The field lay strewn with the dead and mutilated bodies of men and animals. The stench was forever buried in the nostrils of every living man there. Their nights and days would replay the battle over and over until they died.

The living ran from body to body, helping. They wrapped cut arms and legs, heads and feet, in their great effort to save what lives they could. Some stood in utter shock at the carnage, not believing they had done this in their great fear. In the beginning, it had been kill or be killed. No man there had thought through to the aftermath. Had they seen, most would have gone back home. But war was war. And their leaders praised them. And they would fight for their cause.

Jaimeson McGlen lay injured, blood running down his leg. The mangled flesh along his thigh made by a saber slash oozed into the grass. The horse laying on him proved too much for him to move.

Calling to two bedraggled soldiers, he was relieved to be pulled loose. His good leg throbbed as blood flowed back into it, making him groan aloud. They tied a bandage around his cut in minutes and were gone.

The cannon hung off a rise made by a dirt cellar. He hadn't seen it as he dashed across the meadow. In pain and disgust, he crawled around the dead team to see where the cannon hung.

Below, a door stood ajar. Slowly, he eased himself down to the door. He would be cooler there than in the blistering afternoon sun. Not only would it be cooler, but the flies that now descended on the dead and dying would be less of a pest there.

Dragging his injured leg, he finally reached the door. It took some effort to push the door open enough for him to get through. Once inside, he lay exhausted on the cool earth. Another door stood open and he saw the leg of his horse hanging from the ceiling.

Inching his way along, he saw the spring. He almost drank from it but blood still dripped from the horse's leg. The water wouldn't be drinkable. The sight of the ruined water made him mad. He was so thirsty he almost cried.

Leaning against the wall he saw the pipe feeding the spring, it ran clear water. Hoping the roof wouldn't collapse from the horses weight, he drank through lips smashed by the horse kicking him as it pawed to free its leg.

Taking his bandage off, he washed his face and hands. There was blood all over his pants and shirt but they could wait. He was so tired. Jaimeson McGlen had been on the go; _fighting, fighting, fighting_. There always seemed to be another battle to fight. Now all he wanted to do was go home.

Too weak to realize how hungry he was, Jaimeson slept, the rag on his leg wet with blood. His sleep was filled with the pounding of horses, the screams of men and the smell of smoke. In his dreams, he tried to stop the fighting. His screams seemed to go unheard. Horses plunged at him. He was shooting them as fast as he could but they kept coming.

Had anyone come upon him, they would have thought him mad. His ranting could be heard behind the shelves he leaned against all through the night.

Jamie held the lantern for Kim, her feet swollen from the miles they had traveled this past week.

Far behind them, the ruins of their homes lay in ashes. The band of rebels had burned their crops, what they hadn't stolen. The farm that Pa had built no longer existed. With nothing to eat or a roof over his head, Jamie had started North and East. His stomach jumped and trembled in fright every time he thought about what they had done to his Mother. Jamie had been squirrel hunting. The smell of smoke and a high pitched scream had made him hold his fire as he took aim at a deer, the first he had seen in weeks.

Leading the way he followed the stairs. Some of the passages led to the river. They didn't go close to these. It was enough to know there was another way out if they needed to get out in a hurry.

Jaimeson McGlen slept. Day turned to night and back again. Still, he slept the very deep sleep of exhaustion and hunger. Mice crawled over his inert body looking for food. The night was deep and almost gone when he awoke.

The very darkness scared him. Where in hell was he? The thoughts ran through his head. Was he in prison? Had they lost the fight? Had the Rebs regrouped and come back to fight? Had he been so tired he slept through another attack?

Wounded! He'd been wounded. Feeling about, he touched the dirt floor. Still his mind wouldn't bring back the events after his horse had fallen on him.

Thirsty. He was so thirsty. His mouth seemed filled with cotton. He tried to cry out but no words came.

The wall behind him was stone. Straining to hear, he listened, but he was alone. There were no rustlings of others. He would be able to hear them breathing or turning in their sleep if there were others here. He was alone.

Shaking his head, he tried to clear his thoughts. Fully awake, he sat up and was rewarded with searing pain that brought a tortured moan to his fevered lips. The leg! _Damn that leg!_ Pain brought back memories deadened by the depth of sleep.

"Cellar! I'm in the cellar!" he moaned clasping the throbbing leg trying to ease it into a more comfortable place.

As he did so, his hand slid along a glass jar. Jaimeson went still as death. A snake! Dear God, there was a snake beside him. The cold jar slick with the dampness from the cellar lay resting beside his paralyzed hand.

If that snake were angry or hungry, he was a goner. Jaimeson sat frozen while his throat became dryer and tighter, muscles tenses and bunched. Holding his leg strained the muscles in his arms until he thought he would faint. He couldn't hold it much longer, then what? Still, the snake lay without moving. A trembling began to shake his leg and his arm. He couldn't control it. As the minutes ran into an hour, he thought he would puke.

He prayed more than he had ever prayed before, yet still the snake didn't move. Finally, he fainted. The leg eased and his hand dropped atop the jar and he slept.

A ray of sun peeped through a hole beside the dead horse's leg, hitting Jaimeson McGlen in the eye. Through a muggy fog, he eased his eyes open. The bright ray turned the surrounding cellar into pitch blackness. Jumbled memories ran around in his mind, stumbling over each other, then turning back on each other to run on and on and on...

His lips were thick and his mouth wouldn't open. They seemed filled with a slippery plaster that tasted like something from an outhouse. Jaimeson tried licking and smacking. Still, his mouth wouldn't open. Trying to reach it with a hand that wouldn't move, he cried great soul wrenching sobs. When he was too weak to cry more, he lay back down.

From somewhere, cool water ran over his face. Revived a little, he tried to see where it came from. His head was afire and he couldn't keep a picture before his eyes. Foggy shapes moved around like far off ghosts, coming close, then receding.

Inside, he trembled with fear and frustration. He couldn't make his mind stand still. He couldn't see. And his body just lay inert.

Jamie and Kim went back to the room where they had found all the food. Standing outside the door, they listened. The stillness was as eerie as all the fighting had been.

Kim shuddered. "It's as if the whole world had stopped living."

"Mm-hm," Jamie agreed. "Want to have a look outside?"

He asked more to reassure himself that there was still a world out there that lived.

In the three days they had been in the cellar, time had gone by quickly. Whenever they had passed the outer cellar doors, there hadn't been a sound. The fighting must have moved on. It should be fairly safe to at least peek out.

The lantern was getting low and they would soon be out of light. As much as they had looked, there hadn't been one candle.

There had been a house, farm and outbuildings when they had entered the cellar. They avoided the stairs that led to the burned out building. The light shining through told them it was out in the open too much to chance taking a look.

Kim had reached the outer cellar door and was about to open it when she heard a moan from beyond the door.

Quickly she ran back to whisper to Jamie. "Someone is in the outer cellar. Whoever it is has to be hurt. I heard moaning."

"Go back in the food cellar," Jamie whispered, opening the door for her. "Bolt the door and don't let anyone in but me."

On shaking legs, Kim hurried inside. Feeling around she found the bar and dropped it into place. Shaking, she sat by the door to wait and listen.

She hadn't anymore than sat down and Jamie called excitedly, "Open up! Quick and come with me!"

"Bring that jar with you, too!" he told her holding the light so she could see to get it. "There is a man in the cellar and he's in pretty bad shape. He looks awful familiar. He's covered with blood and awful out of his head."

Jamie slowly opened the door. The man lay moaning. It was plain to see the man was wracked with fever and his pants leg was shredded from knee to ankle. The flesh was black with dried blood. It looked as though his face had been bashed in. One eye was swollen and there was a slash along one eyebrow... what was left of it.

Quickly Kim tore a piece from her skirt. Going to the pipe she rinsed it as clean as she could. She took the jar and filled it. Carefully, she dribbled water over the man's mouth and face. Not daring to get too near she kept dripping water on the sores to soften them up.

Jamie stood back, keeping watch that it wasn't a trap. He could swear he should know who the man was.

When Kim had done all she could, she squatted to pull back the man's pant leg. The wound was a clean slash. It had dried, leaving a cover that protected the open wound. Slowly she cleaned both sides. She had no knife to trim the pants away.

Jamie watched as Kim worked over the man. She was real skittish or he knew she would have done a better job. There was nothing to cover the wound.

When she was done she placed the jar by his side so that in case he awoke he could at least get a drink. Rising she stood, studying the man. "Something about him looks familiar."

"That's what I keep thinking," Jamie agreed. "I'm gonna have a look outside. I haven't heard a sound since the day before yesterday."

Easing the outer door open, he waited, listening. The first door stood slightly ajar, sun slanted through, welcoming him, it seemed. Standing back, he eased the door open. Heat pounded in, easing the chill from his bones. He stood there, letting the sun warm him.

Across the field, trees hung broken, twisted and blackened... _like skeletons_. The grass lay trampled and brown. Pieces of twisted artillery lay about, testimony to how fierce a battle had taken place.

Kim stood behind him. He could feel the gasp that came from her.

"I'm going up for a look. I'll stay out of sight. You stay here." Slowly he eased up where he could see beyond the cellarway walls.

At some time something big had fallen down and been pulled away. He decided that it must have been from a cannon. That's probably how the horse had fallen through the cellar roof.

A rancid smell came from above. Kim knew it was the horse, starting to rot from the intense heat. Stepping back out of the glare of the sun, she waited for Jamie.

Behind her, she heard the wounded man moan. Turning, she watched as he tried to open his battered mouth. Blood trickled from the loosened lips. Staying out of reach and keeping the door between herself and the man, she tried talking to him.

"Can you hear me?" she asked. The man just moaned. He turned swollen eyes toward her voice.

All at once, he began to cry in great muffled sobs. It tore at her heart to hear the grown man crying. She knew he was in a bad way. Her mind went back to the days she had helped her mother tend to the first wounded man that straggled to their house for help.

She had helped amputate the leg. She shuddered as she recalled the leg hitting the kitchen floor with a thud as she held the red hot tongs, ready to cauterize the stump ma was trimming.

She would never forget the screams as ma ran the red hot tongs across the flesh. Nor would she ever forget the smell. Kim had run from the room and retched by the back door while four men held the man down on the table.

She had never eaten on that table again. She could see his face, as though it were just yesterday. He was just a boy, seventeen. Many things had happened since. Her mother had been kept busy. Word had spread that she was as good as the best doctor around.

More often than not she was kept up all night removing bullets, sewing up horrible cuts and holding the hands of dying men. If ma were here, what would she do for the man?

Hot water would help clean the man's battered mouth. But they didn't dare make a fire. Someone might still be around. She couldn't take the chance.

She jumped and squealed when Jamie spoke quietly from the doorway. "Pretty bad shape ain't he?"

Trembling she nodded. "He needs those wounds cleaned."

"The fire was part of the house." He went on. "Must have rained and put most of it out early. The part where the stairs go up is where we smelled smoke from. 'Less their hiding real good there's not a soul around I can see."

He moved closer to the wounded man.

"Almost looks like Pa," he commented, getting up to head for the inner door. "I might be able to build a fire on those stairs with some boards where the house is still smoldering. Could be if we keep watch, no one would notice us if we heat some water. That is if I can find a pan." He scratched his head, as though it helped him think. "Better close that door. Don't want anyone coming in unannounced."

Kim feared leaving the man alone. They hurried to the stairs leading to the house. Smoke filtered down from above. The steps were wet from the rain. Kim waited as Jamie made his way up and was soon out of sight. Finally, when she was about to go look for him, Jamie ducked through the timbers carrying three kettles.

Smiling in relief, she took one. "I was worried. I was about to come looking for you!"

"Best you didn't," he replied solemnly. "They killed the whole family that lived here. I'll go bury them soon as it gets dark. Can't see them being left like that."

Kim quietly pulled open the cellar door. "All this hiding space and they were killed?" she asked. "How do you think that happened?"

"Musta been asleep," he told her. "They were right up at the cellar door. Butchered them all. Then torched the house. Never knew the cellar was here. I'll cover it over tomorrow. We'll stay put here for a while."

"We'll get what we can from the house later." He told her as they returned to the wounded man. "Most of the house is still ok, we'll need blankets and such if there's any left." Jamie pulled some towels from under his shirt. From his pocket, he pulled a bottle of quinine and scissors.

"I'll hold his hands if you want to work on his mouth. We can get some water in his mouth and a dose of quinine." He cut some strips of the towels to tie the man's hands.

"Don't want a mad man to get hold of you," he said, trying to lighten the seriousness from her face.

Jamie had started a small fire in the cellarway. When the man's hands were tied, he went to fetch the water. The two worked through the afternoon cleaning the man's face. Several times, the man tried to wake. He seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness.

Finally the man's mouth became soft enough to open a little. Carefully Kim dribbled a stiff dose of quinine and water into his mouth. In short minutes, the man was back asleep. The two eased him down and began to clean the wounds. When they were done they placed wet rags on his cuts. They would clean more later.

Leaving him to sleep, the two slipped back up to the house. This time Jamie led Kim through the kitchen away from the mutilated bodies. Smoke still hung in the rooms but very little had been burned. I was nothing short of a miracle. For over an hour the two carried things from the house. It was all piled in the cellarway.

When it became too dark to see, they pulled boards over the cellarway and moved their finds to the room next to the food storage. Then taking a sheet and blankets they went back to the wounded man. He lay sleeping. Now and then, he turned and moaned.

Going to the water trough, Jamie tied a piece of rope around the horse's leg and drew it away so that the blood wouldn't run into the trough. Then he drained the trough. The water was like ice. When he was done his hands and arms were numb with cold.

"We'll let that rinse for a couple days" he told Kim.

Busy washing the man's forehead, Kim just nodded. She was using a needle and thread to sew up the gash. The man thrashed and moaned but she kept on sewing. The wound needed to be fixed even if it hurt like heck.

As she wiped away the fresh blood and smeared grease on the cut, the man opened his eyes. The eyes were filled with pain and fear.

Jamie had watched as she put in little fine stitches. Kim was good with a needle, he thought, smiling. As Kim started on the man's mouth, he stopped her. "Smear the grease on and leave it tonight. It will come open on its own."

Kim smeared grease on the man's lips. She thought she detected a small grin on them.

"It hurts I know," she soothed him. "But come morning, I'll clean them good. Are you hungry?" she asked just remembering he had been two days unconscious.

Almost too weak to move, he nodded. He had watched every move she made through matted sticky eyes.

Kim smiled. "I've got some broth, I'll get some and give you another drink, okay?"

When Kim brought the chicken broth back, she fed the man with a spoon. Holding a towel, she took her time wondering if the man would make it. Finally, too tired to eat more, he turned away. Tears ran down his face. He looked at Kim as if she was an angel. When she gave him the quinine and water, he touched her hand in a weak pat.

Jamie, touched more than he had ever been, smiled. He helped Kim move the man gently onto the blankets and covered him for the night. They dared not move him far for fear his leg would start bleeding again.

When they were sure he was sound asleep, they went back through the door. Jamie and Kim ate in silence. The day had been long and there were still many things they must do.

Jaimeson McGlen awoke in a fog of pain. He couldn't see nor move. Every effort sent a numbing, throbbing pain rolling up his leg and across his head. He could neither open his eyes or his mouth.

It was still black, and then he remembered the snake. Filled with a sickening horror, he lay still. Something scurried across his chest and he fainted.

When he awoke for the third time, two dark shadows were moving in the dim light. Cool water was being forced through lips that throbbed and burned. Blood ran down his throat with the water.

The shadows seemed to weave and dance as he tried to drift back into the deep blackness of sleep. That was stopped abruptly when one of the shadows knelt over him. Terror filled his mind as one of the shadows started filling his head with searing pain. Tiny pricks, then scarring rips that seemed to go on forever.

Finally he was engulfed into the deep blackness of sleep. But he was soon pulled back from the deep abyss by more pain. This time the shadow was tearing his mouth off.

Jaimeson McGlen tried to scream out his terror but no sound came. He tried to grab and kick but his body lay inert. Then he cried, great wracking sobs of fear and terror filled his chest, making it heave and gasp for air. The shadows receded and soft voices filled the dark shadows.

When he felt the water again, he drank in great gulps. The shadow took shape, it was a woman. Her face was a blur but the hands were gentle. The voice soothed his terror. She fed him broth and it tasted like heaven.

Was this what heaven was like? His head and leg throbbed, but the torturous burning was gone. The shadows merged and he felt a peace deep down, then he relaxed, his hand reaching out to touch the angel. He was being wrapped in warmth and then he slept.

Kim wouldn't let Jamie go bury the bodies alone. "I can dig as well as you. You forget I helped ma with the wounded for years. I'll be fine."

Jamie didn't like it. He was filled with fear that they would be caught. He couldn't believe they would just go away and leave all the loot that still lay around in the house. He was sure someone would be back.

If the bodies hadn't already been there so long, he would wait. But there was no way he could stay around with them laying there. Moonlight almost as bright as day flooded them as he pulled back the boards across the cellarway.

Ashes dropped on Kim's face, turning her dress and hair white. She held her nose to ward of a sneeze. Peeping around Jamie took several minutes to make sure no one was around.

Something moved off by the kitchen door and he froze. Leaning back, he placed his finger on his lips to warn Kim to be quiet. They stayed there for several minutes. All at once a shadow fell across the wall above them. The moon enlarged it and fear filled them both.

When the cat meowed in fright, Kim squealed. The cat shot back and was gone.

Jamie, relieved, swore. "Goddamn cat!"

Kim snickered and they relaxed. If the cat was surprised, they were sure no one else was about.

Jamie was glad he had wrapped the family in linens earlier. He did not want Kim to see what had been done to the women. Damn shame men were such beastly pigs. He doubted that these women had anything to do with this damned war.

Taking his time, he looked for a hole big enough to bury them all. There wasn't enough time to dig six holes. Off to the side of the house he found where cannon shots had dug a deep hole. It wasn't as deep as he'd hoped, but it might do.

He and Kim dragged the bodies around the house. It was a tight fit but left just enough room for enough dirt to safely cover them. When they were all placed in the hole Kim said a prayer and they hurried to cover them. Later, he would carve a cross for the family.

Back in the house, they searched for the family's name. There was nothing. No bills. No papers. They must have taken all of it.

"Maybe we'll find it tomorrow" Jamie muttered. "Let's check on the man and get some sleep."

This time he piled more charred boards on the cellarway.

"Can't have this being found," he said flatly. "I need some sleep."

After looking in on the wounded man, they went to sleep. This had been one heck of a day.

For the next two days, the two watched, and moved things they could use from the house to the cellar. Kim's arms ached from morning till night. Jamie went out in the night to search the barns.

"Why they didn't burn the whole place down is a mystery to me," he told Kim, flicking a beetle upside down.

"Maybe they plan to make camp here," she mused, watching the birds flock overhead. "What are we gonna do then?"

"Guess we'll have to move on," Jamie mumbled. "Had it too easy. Up till now we have been freezing and starving'. Can't stay here forever I guess."

He wished he could. He liked Kim and enjoyed being here with her. She made him feel good and important.

"I know. I feel safe here now," she said.

"Yah. Me, too" Jamie nodded. "We sure could do a lot with a place like this!"

Jaimeson McGlen lay in the dark. He felt light and fuzzy. He had no idea where he was or how he had gotten here. His body hadn't responded when he tried to move. It was as if his mind were removed from his limbs. Nothing worked.

His head was splitting, and his mouth was filled with a nasty taste and dry as dust. He waited in silence listening. There were no sounds of animals in the night. Somewhere, he thought he heard water running.

What had happened? His mind was a muddled mess of mixed thoughts. He lay wrapped in blankets. That, he knew. He knew he lay on the ground. Was he in a cell? There was a tiny peep of light high above him. But no sounds came through it.

Panic seized him!

Had he been buried alive or was he dead?!

He tried to move his hands but they had been secured.

_Think!_ He told himself. His mouth was fastened shut and he couldn't move his lips.

As he lay there, more afraid than he'd ever been, he recalled the angel. She had said she'd be back. Slowly he recalled her voice and words. She had soothed him.

He would wait.

When the door finally opened, all he could see were two shapes. He lay back waiting, his heart beating so hard it hurt. It made his head throb and it was impossible to think as he quivered in dread like a dog about to get beat. All at once his bladder gave way and he relieved himself. He moaned in shame and fear.

All he waited for was to die.

Jamie carried the lantern and Kim had her arms full with the bucket of warm water and towels. She heard the man moan and pity filled her. She knew he was in bad shape and helpless.

Jamie smelled where the man had relieved himself in his delirium and felt pity sway him. If the man were able, he would clean him and wash him. Kim couldn't do that. The first thing that he noticed was that the man's eyes were open more and less glazed than last night. He had checked on him during the night and found he was sleeping soundly.

Now the eyes shown with relief and shame. The man was aware he had wet himself. That was a good sign.

"If you can understand me," Jamie began, "I'm going to clean you up. I brought some clean clothes for you. You've been out of it for three days now. I'll be as careful as I can but we have to cut your clothes away."

The man looked at Kim and shook his head. Kim smiled and went out, leaving the door partly open in case Jamie needed help. They knew nothing about this man. If he became violent and hurt Jamie what would she do?

Looking about, she picked up a stone. It had a sharp point, might work as a weapon. She heard the man moan as Jamie eased him out of his clothes.

Going to the outer cellar door she eased it open and peeped out. There on the ground before the door lay a rifle. She was about to retrieve it when she glanced towards the woods.

At first she thought she was seeing things but no, there was a cow! It was watching her from the edge of the woods. She watched as it sauntered across the field. Then she saw a woman walking behind it.

Standing in the shadow of the door she couldn't be seen from across the field. The woman came halfway across the field before Kim noticed there was a red splotch of blood across her back. Freezing in place, Kim watched the woman go off toward the shed.

As soon as the woman was out of sight, Kim eased back inside the cellar with the gun. She handled it with care. She didn't know if it was loaded or not.

Once the door was closed, she hurried through.

"Jamie," she spoke in panic. "There are people around. I just saw a woman come from the woods driving a cow."

"Quick, go bolt that cellar door. We can't lose the food. We'll have to move this man. Dose him up while I get him dressed. I'll make a sling to help carry him," he said, all business.

"Sorry old timer." He spooned the dose into the man's protesting mouth. "You won't want to be awake for this trip."

By the time Kim got back, the man was fast asleep. Kim and Jamie half-carried, half-dragged the man into one of the rooms deep in the cellar. Jamie helped Kim clean the man's wounds and wrap him in warm blankets.

She wiped the blood and dirt from his eyes and mouth. The slice on his leg looked better today. It was starting to heal around the edges. There had been no sores or damage to his eyes. They'd just been stuck together with dried blood from the head wound.

His mouth had been scraped pretty raw by something. But she could open his lips to show a set of good teeth. She greased them well and then went to work putting greased bandages on his legs. These she held in place with snug strips of linen. Now in clean clothes and washed, the man looked much better and less fearsome.

There was nothing they could do for the swollen eyes. They had gotten pretty sunburned, but she greased those too. Finally wrapped in warm blankets, they went out and closed the door, leaving him to rest.

"We have to move the food," Jamie said quickly as they climbed back up the drain run.

"But what about the woman I saw?" Kim asked. "It's probably hers. She's gonna be hungry, too."

"We'll leave some of it," he agreed grudgingly.

Satisfied with that, Kim helped move as much of the food as they could to a room close to the river.

"I'll hunt around and see if I can find a boat come morning," he hold her. "We better light out farther north soon. We gotta find out where the army is now."

# Chapter 3

Lacy Porter let the horse have her lead and soon the miles flew by. The sand flew from the mares hooves in little spurts. She smiled as the buggy swayed in the early morning sun.

This was Lacy's time of day. An early riser, she had been on the road as the sun rose across the cotton fields. In the back, her trunk and boxes thumped and bumped. She was finally on her way. All she had to do was pick up Lindy and Aunt Grace. She should reach the Clintons for lunch.

Aunt Grace had said, "We'll leave our place Friday morning. Then we can spend the weekend at Toms. We should get to Mays on Monday." That had been a month ago and here she was on her way.

Looking across the seat, she smiled at Benedict. He sat as tall and straight as a ram rod. Benny, as she called him, must be a million years old. The skin on his face was so wrinkled he looked like a prune. But that didn't stop him getting around. His step was as spry as a kid. But now his face was as serious as the preacher Cole's.

"Best slow that horse down some if you wanna get to Miss Grace's." he admonished, nodding his head.

The horse seemed to be enjoying the breeze, whipping her mane and tail. Lacy hated to slow her down. Still, Benny was right.

As she eased the mare down to a walk, she heard Benny moan." There's a whole pack of soldiers yonder!"

Uncertainty and fear filled Lacy as she looked where Benny pointed.

"We best get this rig turned back to the house," he advised.

Taking the reins from her he swung the rig around and sent the horse homeward as fast as he could make the mare run.

Still fresh, the mare tore off back along the road, sending spirals of dust to mark her going. Lacy held on for dear life as fear gripped her. She had seen several of the troops break off to give chase.

She only hoped they'd reach home before they were stopped. If they got their hands on the letters in her purse, she would either be shot or jailed.

"You best get down off the seat. If they start shooting then they won't be hitting you!" Benny yelled above the clatter of hooves and wheels.

Ahead, the bridge came into view. If they could make it at this speed, they'd be lucky.

Benny was in a panic now. She hoped he'd remember the big hole at the end. The mare took the bridge at full gallop, fed by the slap of the reins against her flanks. On the floor, hanging on for dear life, Lacy prayed. At the last minute, Benny steered the mare around the hole.

All at once, the left wheel caught the gravel and the carriage hit the hole full tilt. With a crack that sounded like a shot the wheel split into a million pieces and the carriage flipped into the air.

When it hit the ground, Lacy flew through the air like a rag doll. The force was so great it sent her into the brush along the creek. All she remembered were the branches tearing at her new gown and the rock rushing to meet her.

Long hours later, head splitting and bleeding, she awoke. The moon hung high above her and she hurt terribly. For long minutes, she lay in the quiet night. Then from above she heard soft talking, arguing really.

"I tell you I saw two people in that carriage. I saw a woman's hat!"

"Well we've been all over and I'm telling you there ain't no damned woman's body."

"I sure didn't see one. Ain't even a woman's heel mark. Just that old man laying dead"

"Shame about that pretty mare, she was a damn fast horse!"

Lacy lay still, sick at the thought she'd been the cause of Benny and her mare's death.

Ma had said, "It's a fools idea that Grace had. If I didn't owe that woman I'd never let you go. Doesn't she know there's a war going on?"

With that, she'd given Pa and Lucy a wall-eyed look and had stomped out of the room mumbling something about "Damned fools."

Pa had given Lucy a weak smile. Lacy had been aghast. _Ma swearing!_ It had been the first time she'd ever heard her mother swear. Ma must've been really mad.

"Don't fret." Pa had grinned. "I haven't heard of there being troops near here. Most of the fightings been up Virginia way. You'll be fine. Got a couple letters I need to get on down to Clark Stevens. I'll have them ready to go with ya."

Lucy had finished packing, the following day would start early for her. She had almost been too excited to sleep. She'd swirled around the room, practicing her dance steps. There should be plenty of men to dance with. Maybe she would even meet someone and fall in love.

Lucy lay unable to move and scared to death that the men on the road would search for her. Why hadn't they found her? She couldn't be that far away, she could see the bridge through the gaps in the brush.

It seemed like hours before the men rode away. Still groggy, she wasn't aware they had ridden back to her house.

When Lucy awoke the second time, it was dawn. The smell of smoke drifted along the creek. Something was burning and it wasn't far away. Loud booming rang out not far from her.

A cold sweat broke out as she looked around to see where she was. Her dress was soaking wet and her shoulder hurt too much to move. High overhead, a rock ledge jutted out. Turning her head carefully, she saw a wall of brush. The creek was out of sight, but she could hear it running. Her mouth was so dry. She needed a drink. She had to get to that creek.

When she tried to rise, searing pain shot across her back, her head became fuzzy and throbbed unmercifully. Sweat beaded her face and she lay back, sobbing. She couldn't move. She had to move. She'd die here and no one would know until rains swelled the creek and washed her from this rocky grave.

In desperation, she rolled over, the pain so intense she cried out and loss consciousness.

When she awoke again, it was with a start. The booming of a cannon, just above her, made her jump and scream.

The sound of horses screaming and cannons told her the war was here in her own backyard. The ground shook and some of the rocks overhead fell on her. Placing her hands over her head and face brought back the pain in her back, but fear drove her to roll to the shelter's edge.

More stones fell and she moved again, pain bringing more tears. She found she hurt all over. Her leg was bleeding and she could feel the blood running down her back. Wiping away what she thought was sweat from her forehead, she brought her hand away covered with blood. Now she sobbed harder until she realized she'd better do something or she'd bleed to death.

Numb with pain but determined not to die here, she ripped away the hem from her slip. Gasping in pain, she wound a strip around her head and leg. Sitting back, she tried to set her thoughts straight. Fighting off dizziness, she tried to think. How long had she been here? How long ago had the fighting started and where had it started?

Pa had said the fighting had been clear up in Virginia. How had he been so wrong? Had he and Ma known and just tried to keep it from her?

The letters Pa had given her, where were they now? Had there been something in them she should have known? Pa had said as they were loading the carriage, "Don't give those letters to anyone but Stevens." But he wouldn't tell why.

There hadn't been a seal on them, so with Benny tutting away, she had glanced at the neatly written words "Dawn Tuesday". There hadn't even been a date. Pa hadn't signed the letter. Now she thought she knew why.

Today must be Tuesday. She wondered if Ma and Pa were still alive. Had they left the house as soon as she had gone? Did they think she was safely away? Tears running down her dirt-smudged face, she felt an awful loneliness wash over her. She knew she was alone now. No help would come from Benny, or Ma and Pa.

She had been the warning so many expected, that hadn't come. How many would die? But the army had come early. It had been Friday when they had seen the soldiers.

No! She wasn't to blame. Pa should have warned her. He had known they were coming!

Mad enough to spit, she tried to stand. Her back hit a rock behind her, sending great waves of pain washing over her, making her feel faint.

Sitting back on the dirt, she sobbed helplessly. Finally exhausted, she slept with her arms on her knees. Every now and then, shots rang out and horses screamed, jerking her awake.

Once, she almost fainted as horse and rider leaped into the creek, shots ringing out. She waited, expecting any moment someone would seek shelter along the bank where she hid. But no one did.

Lacy awoke to quiet. After the noise of the past two days, the quiet was more disturbing than the noise. She was weak and faint with thirst and hunger. She had to move. She was so close to the water she could smell it.

Easing out into the early dawn, she made the painful walk to the water's edge. Even the creek looked funny. She almost puked when she saw the headless man sprawled at the water's edge below her.

Gagging and thirsty beyond caring, Lacy knelt up stream and drank. Out further in the water, lay the horse and rider she had seen earlier. The creek was a graveyard of horses and soldiers. She heaved and heaved but there was nothing to come up.

When she was able, she rose, ignoring the stiff bandage on her head, and started following the creek. Brush grew along the creek's edge all the way back to behind the horse barns of her father's plantation.

She would try to make it there.

With the sun coming up, the events of the last few days were more evident. Great trees were torn to shreds, dark, stark stalks blackened and dead. Keeping to the brush that grew thick, she stumbled along. She wondered where her things were. Had someone come along and taken her trunk full of new gowns? Where had the bag with its jewels and money gone?

Time and again, she came upon a body covered with blood and mud where he had crawled to hide and died close to the water's edge. Always surprised, she clamped her hand over her mouth to shut off a scream of surprise.

Every now and then, she stopped to ease out of the brush. The country so alive a couple days ago, lay trampled and barren. Disoriented by the devastation, she shook her head. The Lawson place had been burned to the ground. The house shown in the noonday sun. Charred black timbers rose on one side. Brick walls slanted by the fierce heat loomed across the trampled fields, with black gaping holes where the windows had been.

Here and there, white bales of cotton smoldered in the heat. Holding her hand over her mouth, Lacy wept deep sobs for the lovely home and kind people that had lived there. She decided she didn't want to see what might have happened to Caroline and her twins. She could only hope they had escaped to a safe place, but that was doubtful, very doubtful.

Going to the creek, she studied it well before drinking. Drinking eased the pangs of hunger. Still she knew it could make her very sick. It tasted fresh and was cool and soothing, but her father had told her it was really _unfit to drink._

She unwound the bandage from her head. The hair lay matted to her scalp with dried blood. She knew she had to wash it soon or the eggs of the flies that had bedeviled her these past days would hatch. Then maggots would be crawling there. The thought made her shudder.

As soon as it was dark, she would take care of that. For now Lacy rinsed and soaked the blood out of the bandage and pulling her hair up wrapped it around the hair, dripping wet.

The wound on her back hurt worse than her head. She was sure she hadn't been shot. But only by pulling one of the layers of her skirt over her neck and shoulders could she keep the flies off it and even that about killed her.

She noticed the land here showed less marks of fighting. She hurried on now, numb to the sore on her leg. She would come to the horse farm around the next turn. Lacy prayed with all her heart their house had been spared, but that wasn't to be. She smelled the smoke long before she reached the barn.

The barn stood, sheltered in a copse of alders on the far side of the corn field. The field lay between her and the house. She could see smoke rising above the stalks. All at once she fainted.

When she came to, a wet rough tongue was lapping at her face. Opening her eyes slowly, she screamed. Something huge stood over her.

Deliah, surprised by her mistress's scream, snorted and jumped back. When she did, a pig rolling in the corn field squealed and dashed out into the open.

From the far side, Lacy heard a man shout, a shot, and then the pig squealing like crazy. Knowing it could only be a soldier, she jumped up. Turning, she remembered the cow.

Shouts and laughter rang across the field and all at once Lacy was mad.

"Dirty Pigs," she spat. "I hope you die!"

Filled with a deep rage and determination to get well and live, she patted the cows neck. The cow would mean life-giving milk. And if she didn't give milk, she'd be meat. Lacy knew she would have to live off the land. There couldn't be soldiers everywhere.

She would go to her Aunt's over by the river. They had an underground cellar system. She'd take Deliah so the soldiers wouldn't get her! Going to the horse barn, Lacy listened outside the door. When there was no sound for several minutes, she opened the door.

The stalls were empty. She'd hoped deep down they would be. The stall where her mare Nina had been born was filled with old saddle parts and junk. Searching around, she found a halter for the cow. Fitting it to her, she led the cow down to the creek. There she fastened her deep in the brush.

Taking a burlap bag, she returned to the corn field. Along the outer rows she picked a bagful of sweet corn. She had never eaten it raw, but now found it not too bad. It was messier and stickier but it filled her stomach. To the bag, she added a few squash and a small melon.

Her back burned and ached. She hoped it wouldn't start bleeding again. Along with a small hatchet she tied a pail wrapped in burlap and the corn on the cow's back. The old coat from the barn, she tied around her waist. A corn knife tucked at her waist, she led off towing Deliah behind.

All night, she trudged. She stopped once to milk Deliah. The warm milk tasted like honey. When morning came, she waded back in a bunch of brush. There she took off her dress. The slips, she wadded up into a ball and packed in a bag. The dress, she washed.

As she washed, she realized why the soldiers had missed her. Her dress was green with large brown and maroon flowers. The flowers were dark and muted. They blended with the brush as she held it up to see how much blood had been rinsed out.

There was a rip along her shoulder blade. Reaching back, she felt the sore spot. A large scrape ran along her back. It didn't feel deep and had started healing over.

She washed her hair, patting at the matted, blood-caked mass. It took her a long time. When she could, she braided it, tying the ends with strips cut with the corn knife. Taking the strips of ruffle up she washed and wrung it, winding it turban style around her head to cover the red gold mass that might be seen from far away. Before her hair had been covered with mud and grass. That had been lucky for her.

When she was clean, she lay back on the bank, letting the sun warm her. She slept until the chill of night woke her. Deliah's soft pawing told Lacy it was time to milk her again. Lacy hated to waste the milk but there was no other way.

Lacy walked along the creek until it merged with the river. As she walked, she saw the carnage from the fighting. She hung to the brush and trees. At last, she came to the open fields. This was the worst mess she had seen yet.

The fighting had been fierce here. Surprisingly, most of the house was still intact. She waited for most of the night, far back in the woods. She watched as the sun came up, yet there was no sign of life.

She knew if they were alive, Aunt Grace and Lindy would be about, clearing up the mess. Finally, she led the cow to one of the sheds. No one challenged her. Nothing but the summer breeze stirred. The birds flew about. She kept an eye on them. They would squawk if annoyed.

Jimmy the cat sat by the barn door. Had there been a stranger near, he would have been gone.

The only part of the house that had been burned was the back shed. Lacy could see that it had rained hard here. The road and drive had been washed clean of any kind of tracks.

With the cat skittering back and forth around her, she headed for the house. All she could hope was that no one shot at her.

In the cellar, Kim and Jamie sat waiting, the lantern hung on a nail almost empty. If the woman was one of the owners, she would come to the cellar for food. They jumped as they heard the boards being torn away from the stairway.

Whoever it was, was looking for food. When they heard footsteps coming, they pressed their eyes to the cracks to see who it was. The light from a candle shown across the cellar. The woman was young, about nineteen or twenty, Kim's age.

When she hesitated, they were sure she knew someone had helped themselves to part of the food. Throwing her head back as if to say to hell with them, the woman took a ham and apples. She went to one of the crocks and dipped out some of the flour. Looking around, she put two potatoes in her pocket, turned, closed the door and left.

Lacy had cleaned the burned boards from the cellarway. It had been a miracle no one knew the door was there. She knew where Aunt Grace kept her food. The cellar had been one of her favorite places to play. She and Lindy had chased back and forth as her uncle and several of the freed slaves had dug and laid up the warrens for safety during the harsh hurricanes that blew in from the coast.

They had huddled in a dirt cellar the first year they lived in the big house. The winds had ripped it to shreds. Her uncle had built the house twice. The last time he had used bricks and it still stood.

But he had made a safe place for his family, and the slaves, against new storms. As the war talk started, he had used it to help free the slaves.

Pa had said that it'd been part of the underground railroad.

She would look for them there in the morning. Tonight she was too tired to worry. Cooking her dinner, Lacy had the feeling she was being watched. When she had eaten, she took blankets and went to the barn. She placed her blankets near the cellar door. Here, like every building, a hidden door led to the cellar. No one need be caught without a place to go to for shelter.

The cat, snuggled on her arm, would let her know if danger were near. Exhausted Lacy drifted into a dream filled sleep. Men marched, horses screamed and she was drowning in a river of blood.

# Chapter 4

Jaimeson McGlen awoke to pitch blackness. He lay still, feeling the blankets and a greasy film covering his lips. Where was he? He must be in a prison, but... No. There would be others.

Here, there wasn't a sound. Finally, he moved his hands, still tied, to feel the ground. Hard packed earth. Bringing them up to his face, he felt the greasy lips. He could open them, though it hurt. His head hurt above his eye and had a bandage tied around it.

His clothes felt funny. They were made of a different cloth. Where was his uniform? Slowly, the answers to all those questions came back.

His leg? He moved until he was sitting up. He felt his leg. It was still there and wrapped up. Someone had taken pretty good care of him. His stomach rumbled, letting him know how long it had been since he had eaten.

There seemed to be nothing to do, so he lay back, trying to recall everything that had happened. What seemed like hours later, he saw a light through cracks in a door. Rolling over, he sat up. He had no idea what to expect.

What came was food and water. The man was about his size but much younger, followed by a young woman. She didn't act afraid, so he smiled. Or tried to. First the man asked how he felt. Then the woman cut the rope that tied his hands.

"We didn't want you to rip your bandages off," she nodded towards the ropes. "You were kinda out of your head for a while there."

"Where am I?" he asked, sipping the chicken soup. He would have gulped it down but it was too hot and his mouth too sore.

The soup had meat, carrots and some small potatoes in it. He had never tasted food so good. After he ate, the woman checked his head and leg. She smeared more grease on them.

"Sorry we had to move you," the young man apologized. "But the folks that live here came back. We couldn't leave the lantern. It's the only light there is. Come daylight, you can go to the end of this staircase, and the river's right there. I wouldn't go out yet though because someone might see you. You can stay here till you heal up some. We'll share our food. We only have a small amount. The troops left here a couple days ago but it's not safe around here yet." Jamie advised.

The two filled him in on all that had happened. They acted like they needed to talk. Sitting back with his leg stuck out in front of him, Jaimeson let them. He thought the boy looked like someone he should know... _but who?_ If the boy were younger he would have sworn it was his son, Jamie. The girl, he should know but couldn't quite place. It was so dark in here, features were dim and shadowy.

Hillsville Virginia, 4 Years Earlier...

The day Jaimeson McGlen was called to serve his country the morning sun flicked back and forth on the road, a small breeze shifting the tree branches overhead.

He smiled as a doe and her fawn leaped across the path in front of him.

"You'll be good eating this fall," he said aloud and the doe turned huge solemn eyes at him and leapt away into the dense forest.

Jaimeson smiled, feeling content with himself and his world. The streets of Hillville were almost dried up. The week of warm sunny weather had taken care of the ankle deep mud.

Pulling his horse up to the hitching rail, he tied it snug. Taking the bags of dried, shucked corn from behind the saddle, he climbed the steps to the grist mill. This would be the last of the corn meal until harvest time.

The crops were in real good shape. This year would be a bumper crop. He smiled again, his memories bringing back old Henry's words. _Be a long cold winter, next. Better be putting in extra this year._

Smiling wider now, he recalled how he had put in extra as Henry had advised. Shaking his head, he entered the mill. Placing his bag on a table, he nodded to Rob Porter and Jeff Strome.

"Hey, Jaimeson," Rob called. "You see that guy that's been recruiting fellers to join the militia? We're going to go to war. Them Rebs are spoiling for a fight."

"No place for me," Jaimeson replied. "I got a whole passel of crops that need tending. Ain't got time for foolishness like that."

Rob and Jeff looked at him as though he'd lost his mind.

"We're living on the border so to speak. Got a whole lot to lose." Jeff reflected. "I'll be showing up come Monday to see what's what. Ain't no Reb getting a hold of my piece, not if I can stop-em."

He stuck his jaw out stubbornly.

Jaimeson grinned. "Well might be I'll drop by, see what's going on. We'll see. Mona, she ain't too keen on fighting no how."

He talked politics and war with Rob and Jeff for over an hour. The heat of the day eased as he left for home. The horse, rested from the long afternoon, pranced and tried to run several times on the way home.

The smell of ham drifted down the road from the house. He smiled. Mona sure did cook a good ham. She always seemed to know just when he'd be home. Funny that, no matter where he went, she'd have dinner ready when he came home. Entering the house, he placed the corn meal and things Mona had sent for on the cabinet.

"Took your own time today," Mona said.

"Had a talk with Rob and Jeff," he replied going to the wash stand. Sloshing water on his face and hair, he almost missed her reply.

"Chrissy and Kim stopped by, she said this man was going round hunting up men to join up for a war. Where'd she get that notion? You know about that?"

"Talk in town has it there's gonna be a militia here abouts." He wiped himself dry, unable to look her in the eye.

"You gonna join up?" she said, fear making her voice harsh.

From the door, his son Jamie shouted, "You joining up Pa? I wish I was big enough to fight. I'd drop those Rebs left and right. Got four squirrels today."

He chucked his hat in the wood box.

"Hang that hat on the peg," Mona said!

Jamie, wearing a sheepish look turned to retrieve his hat. Putting it on the hook, his face turned white. "Pa! There's two men coming lickity split and one's all covered with blood."

Mona, glancing past him through the window, clasped him by the shoulders and whispered, "Get to your room! Don't come out unless we call you. Go!"

Jaimeson raced past them, gun in hand. Mona watched from the window as Jaimeson met the men. When the man covered with blood fell from his saddle, he grabbed him. The two men brought the wounded man into the house.

"Mona, take the horse and go get Chrissy. It's Hank that's shot!"

Mona moaned. "Oh God no!"

Without another word, she ran to get the horse. She didn't remember throwing the saddle, one she'd never been able to lift before, on the horse, or riding full gallop the two miles to Chrissy's house.

Riding into the lawn, she screamed, "Chrissy! Chrissy! Bring your bag, Hanks been shot up something awful!"

Chrissy ran out the door, bag in hand. She climbed on behind Mona, her face white with fear.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I didn't go waiting to see," Mona apologized "It looked too bad to be wasting time."

"I'm gonna kill that idiot," Chrissy said, her heart a tight knot of fear and pain. "I told him to keep his big nose to home. But no! He's gotta go hunting trouble over this here war!"

Mona whipped the reins against the horses flanks as though he was a race horse. Driven by pain, and the fear he sensed from the women, the horse made record time. Jerking the reins so hard she almost threw Chrissy to the ground, Mona stopped by the back porch.

Jaimeson met them, and grabbing Chrissy, lifted her onto the porch before she had time to catch her breath. Trembling from the wild ride, as well as fear for Hank, Chrissy wobbled into the house.

When she saw Hank and all the blood, she tottered still more. From behind her, she heard the sharp snap of Mona's voice.

"Don't you go getting silly on me now woman! You better get used to this sorta thing. That man, he needs you! Now drink this and get busy!"

Chrissy felt more than saw the glass on her lips. She started to drink deep, then she gasped and sputtered. The drink hit her throat like liquid fire. Gasping, she ran to the water pail. But the fire had been lit and it leaped from throat to stomach. She tried to cool it again and felt a warm glow wash over her. Damn, now she was soused.

It took several minutes to get herself righted. When she did, Hank's clothes had been cut off.

_Damn, that's his best shirt,_ she thought. Now she would have to make him another one.

"Hank! Hank! You old dog," she scolded. "Don't you dare up and die on me, ya hear now!"

Through a haze of pain, Hank spoke her name then drifted back into sweet oblivion. Shaking her head to clear it, Chrissy went to work cleaning and removing a bullet from Hank's thigh.

Hank moaned and thrashed. When Chrissy went in for the bullet, it was almost more than the four of them could do to hold him down. Mona had stuck a rod in the fire to heat up right after they had arrived. Now with hands that shook, Chrissy cauterized the wound. The pain was so bad Hank screamed, then fainted.

As did Chrissy.

Mona turned to Jaimeson. "We better get these two to bed. I'll see to fixin' Jamie's bed for them. He can sleep on a pallet in our room. Then you better take Jamie and do up Hank's chores and bring Kim back here for the night. Can't have her there all alone."

Jaimeson rode back to Hank and Chrissy's place. His eyes swept the woods for the slightest movement. He knew the birds would let him know if anyone were near.

Young Jamie seemed to know there was need for silence. He usually chattered away when riding. He hugged tight to Jaimeson, and at a glance, one would think he was a part of his father.

Jaimeson patted his hand.

"It's all right," he soothed in a low voice. "I'm as scared as you. Just keep an eye on those trees. You might see something I miss."

Jamie, scanning the woods, just nodded. He was scared. In his mind, he could see he and Pa all shot up like Hank was.

By the time he and Pa got the chores done and pulled Kim up to sit behind them on the horse, Kim had dried her tears, but her eyes were red and swollen.

The ride back wasn't quite as scary. It had turned dark and they were less a target now than in broad daylight. Neither Jamie or Kim spoke the whole way back to the house. Kim trembled and Jamie held her hand. He felt sorry for her. He was sure glad his Pa hadn't been shot.

"Where in the world were those two when Hank got shot?" Mona asked as they ate a late supper.

"All I could get out of Thompson was they went to see that recruiter fellow. Said it was a surly bunch, about six or eight men. They shot from the creek bed." Jaimeson told her. "Said if they joined up they'd burn them out. They took Hank's mare with them when they rode off."

Jaimeson joined the militia the next day.

Brookneal Virginia, Present day...

Jaimeson Mcglen rubbed at his eyes. After four years of fighting here he was, wounded, tired and wondering if he would ever see Mona and Jamie again. Lord, it was like running hot metal across them. He wondered how he had hurt them. They had been fine when he had crawled into the cellar. Must have been mice or rats chewed on him.

He recalled the two people that had been taking care of him. They had said something about being hidden down here. Now he wondered if the army was still outside. He tried to move, but the pain in his leg told him he had to heal more.

As he lay back in the dark, bits and pieces started coming back. Where had these two kids found food? How long had he been here anyway?

# Chapter 5

The smell of woodsmoke awoke Lacy. The cat still lay curled on her arm. Easing into a sitting position, she let her eyes scan the dark corners of the barn. The cat, disgusted at being awakened, stretched and climbed onto her lap. Turning, it lay back down, preparing to go back to sleep.

It seemed unaware of danger. Maybe it was some of the boards still smoldering from the shed. Maybe she'd better check if they took hold during the night, should it burn down the house.

Easing the cat from her lap, Lacy rose. The smell of smoke grew stronger. Going to the door facing the house, Lacy opened it just enough to see there was no smoke near the house.

Tucking the door closed, she went to the haymow. The smell was much stronger there. With hands that trembled, she eased the board up that served as a latch for the tunnel door. As it slid open, the smoke drifted up from below. Now it was mixed with the heavy smell of ham and cornbread.

"Thank God!" she gasped. "They are alive!"

Pulling the lantern from the shelf where it was kept ready, Lacy descended the stairs. Almost at the bottom, she heard voices. Chills ran up her back, making her hair stand on end. The voices were men's. And it was no one she knew.

Too shaken to move, she stood rooted to the spot. With hands that trembled, she turned the lantern down and blew it out. Too sick to move, and afraid not to know what had happened to her relatives, she waited. Maybe there were others with her family, _but who?_

Her skirt rustled every time she moved. She dared not move now, the talking had stopped almost as soon as she turned the lantern off. As she waited, too scared to breathe, she heard footsteps coming her way.

A light turned almost all the way down came up the main stairway. Leaning against the wall, she waited. The light was passing, held by a girl about her age. With her was a young man in buckskins. The two were whispering about a man.

"I'm sure he will be fine," the girl was saying.

"Well he's not out of his head today," the man replied.

"I wonder how many people there were in the family that lived here?" the girl asked.

"Hard telling," the boy said. "They are in the grave. We'll have to wait and see if more than the woman that came yesterday comes back."

Then they were too far away to be heard.

Lacy had thrown her hand over her mouth. She had almost cried aloud when the man talked about burying five people. There were five people in Aunt Grace's family. They were all dead. Her heart shrunk into a hard pain-filled knot. She turned and ran back up the steps. Her dress rustled on the stones, but she was unaware.

Once through the door she threw herself onto the hay and began to sob. Her heart hurt so bad, she didn't think she could stand it. Lacy never heard the door open. She was so filled with sorrow, she didn't think she could live. It filled her heart and mind, tearing great wrenching sobs from her very soul.

Kim had been about to say she would check on the woman, when they heard what sounded like a sob coming from one of the stairways. Turning, they saw what looked like a skirt flowing up the stairs. At first they weren't sure what they had seen.

"The woman!" Kim gasped. "She heard what we just said."

"Then she knows we're here," Jamie said. "We'd better follow her and explain before she brings someone with a gun."

"Yes," Kim said. "She probably knows this place by heart. She'd know where to trap us."

At the door, Jamie stopped to look beyond before opening it. "It's the inside of the barn. She's crying."

"Oh Lord, she heard us. I'm going to her." She pushed past Jamie.

Before Jamie could speak, Kim eased through the door. He watched as Kim knelt beside the woman. Without saying a word, Kim settled into the hay beside the grief stricken woman. She just sat with tear filled eyes as she cried until there were no tears left.

Lacy had felt the girl ease down onto the hay beside her. She didn't know if she was the enemy or not, but it didn't matter. She was sore and sad and without help, so what did it matter now anyway?

When she turned to the girl, she was amazed to see that the girl had been crying, too. Sitting up, she pulled up the corner of her gown, blew her nose and wiped her eyes, which were now red and swollen.

"I'm Kim," she began. "We had no idea you were there while we were talking. It was a mean, despicable thing to do and we're awfully sorry."

Tears were running down her face.

Stunned, Lacy could only shake her head, there was little she could say to this bedraggled young woman. The ravages of the last few weeks were written on her pinched, gaunt face. She was as covered with scrapes and bruises as Lacy felt she was. There was a deep sadness in the black-lashed eyes that told Lacy she had needed to cry as much as Lacy had.

"How did you find the storm cellar?" Lacy asked at last.

Wiping away her tears, Kim related the experience. Lacy just nodded.

"I'm here with my friend and there is a man that was hurt really badly. I've been caring for him." Kim said.

"Who is your friend?" Lacy asked, hoping he wasn't an enemy.

"Jamie, you'd better come out now." Kim spoke loud enough for him to hear from behind the door. As the door opened, Lacy jumped up, brushing hay off her dress.

Lacy gasped as the man in buckskin eased through the door. His face was a study of sorrow and compassion. Again, tears filled Lacy's eyes and her throat became tight with hurt. Wiping away her tears, she reached out her hand toward him.

When Jamie took the woman's hand in his calloused one, it felt as fragile as china. As she looked at him, he felt that he had merged his soul with hers. Their hands seemed welded as though they were unable to part.

Kim, watching this strange ritual, felt a deep loss. She was cold and alone. It was as though these two people were in another world and she was left standing outside. Jamie couldn't take his eyes from the girl.

"I'm Lacy," she spoke, her voice hoarse and broken. "This is my Aunt and Uncle's place."

She sobbed, unable to ask the question that she needed to know.

"I'll show you where we laid them to rest," Kim spoke softly, breaking the spell.

"You'd best come below," Jamie told her, taking her hand in his again. "It's not safe up here yet. There are still stray bunches of soldiers passing through."

Kim went to the door.

"We were cooking when we heard you on the stairs. These dresses..." she went on as if they had known each other for years. "Make an awful lot of noise. It's so quiet down here."

Jamie helped Lacy down the stairs. He was strangely reluctant to let her go. The lantern in one hand, and her hand in another, seemed so right he was stunned. A funny feeling in the pit of his stomach scared him. The tenderness he felt was something new and scary. He was filled with such complexity of emotions, he couldn't talk.

The three descended down almost to the river.

"We came down here hoping the smoke would go out that way." Kim explained, looking from Lacy to Jamie, who still held Lacy's hand.

Jamie now aware they had stopped by the cooking pit he had built, dropped Lacy's hand as if it were hot. The funny look on his face made Kim smile.

As if released from a spell Lacy stammered, "I smelled it in the barn. That's what woke me up."

Jamie made a mental note to place covers over the stairway. They couldn't have that happen again.

"I hope you aren't mad that we used some of the food. We hadn't eaten in three days when we found this cellar. It was between battles," Kim apologized quietly.

"Oh no!" Lacy told them. "In fact that's how long I'd been without food until I found some fresh corn and cow's milk."

Then she related what had happened on her way there.

"If I hadn't been thrown into the brush, you'd have had to bury me."

Tears streamed down her face.

Jamie felt his heart grow still and ache. He couldn't stand the thought of her laying cold under the dirt up in the yard. He thanked God that the soldiers had stopped searching for her that day. She may be bruised but she was alive. And he didn't know why, but he was glad for that.

Alert to every noise, Jaimeson McGlen's keen ears picked up the sound of a new voice and he froze. His body ached with tension.

"God damn this leg!" he ground through clenched teeth. He felt trapped like a fox in a short den, with a pack of hounds waiting to tear him apart.

He cursed the dark, the war, and would have crawled to the river if he could have dragged himself there. Now he had another worry. A stranger had invaded their hiding place and he didn't know if they were the enemy or not.

If he had survived just to be taken prisoner, someone would have the fight of their lives on their hands. Jaimeson's body trembled with anger, making him need to urinate. When he could stand it no longer, he called with a mighty shout that rang throughout the storm cellar.

Beside the fire, the three jumped as if shot. Lacy was halfway up the stairway, Kim right on her heels when they realized it was the wounded soldier. Jamie had already gone to see what was wrong.

In minutes, he was back. Smiling at the two women he said, "He had to go and he wants to come out in the light."

"He's getting better. At least he won't scare us to death out here." she said acidly, hating that she had been so shaken. "I just hope that there was no one else out there that heard."

"We could get some candles from the house," Lacy suggested, looking from one to the other.

"Where'd you find candles?" Jamie asked gently. "I searched the whole house for some."

"Aunt Grace always keeps them hidden. Jacob wasn't quite right and he used to put them under his bed. He started so many fires, Aunt Grace finally had to hide them."

"I think he would love to have one," Kim interjected. "I know I don't like this darkness, either."

"Come on," Lacy said, turning to Kim. "Let's get some together."

The two left and Jamie went back to tell the man they would get a light for him.

"It's too risky to bring you out. If we have to hide in a hurry we'd never get you back here." Then he proceeded to tell the man what had happened with their new guest.

"At least we won't be driven out of here," Jamie told him.

Jaimeson McGlen sat, filled with shame. Maybe with a light, he would settle down. This forever night was making him crazy.

Jamie left the lantern by the door. He knew he would have hated to be in the dark, alone, hurt and scared someone would find him.

# Chapter 6

Lacy and Kim eased through the door to the food room. They waited and listened. When they were sure there was no one around, they slipped in the back door.

Kim froze. The cat lay crouched behind the woodbox. Someone was in the house. Footsteps echoed on the front stairs. Both women eased back out the door and in seconds they were back in the cellarway. With great care they pulled charred boards across the opening. As they did a man appeared in the backdoor.

From behind her, Lacy screamed.

"Benny! Oh Benny!"

She tore past Kim, shoving boards aside.

Kim gasped too, but for a different reason. The huge man standing there had a bloody scar that ran from just behind his eyebrow clear to the back of his head.

"Oh Benny!" Lacy cried tears streaming down her face. "You're alive!"

The huge man held Lacy, saying in a soft croon, "I'm here, I'm here."

It was plain to see he was devoted to her.

When Lacy had finished crying, she turned red, happy eyes to Kim. "This is Benedict, our driver and a dear friend. He was driving the carriage when the soldiers came. The is Kim. She and her friend were caught here when the fighting started. But - _oh Lord!_ \- I am so glad you weren't killed."

She hugged the old man several times.

Kim could tell that Benny was clearly in pain, but the happy face he displayed upon seeing Lacy was a thing to behold. Lacy led the way back into the house. Going to a tall cupboard, she reached inside and the cupboard opened to reveal a small room. The walls were lined with shelves. Inside, there was everything a household would need for a long time.

"Aunt Grace had this made just in case, when the war talk started." Lacy spoke reverently. "Don't plan to go without, she told me once. I thought it silly. She knew all along. I can't believe she's gone."

Lacy looked sadly at Kim and Benny.

"This war's gonna break a lotta hearts before it's over," Benny said, shaking his head. "I have your stuff in the far shed. That night I came to, I slipped off with your trunk and bags. They just nicked me, though it looks like I should be dead. " He shook his head in disbelief. "I was hiding and looking for you, but had to give it up when all the fighting started."

Joining them inside the house, Jamie listened and watched. Twice, he thought he saw movement at the wood's edge. Finally, he spoke.

"Don't look now but we're getting company. They've been watching for some time."

Two men approached from the river. Their ragged, bloody clothes told their own story. Anyone would have to be blind to not know they had been fighting.

Benny, not standing where he could see, was about to move to a better vantage point when Jamie stopped him. "Don't show yourself, in case we get in trouble."

Benny eased back through the door. What he saw through the window turned his face ashen. The two men coming were the men that had shot him. Slowly, he made his way out the front of the house. The spring house was behind a lilac bush. Keeping the house between him and the men, he made his way to it.

Once inside the spring house, he made his way to the back wall. Pans of milk had once stood waiting to be churned on the shelves. The pans were now scattered and dented. Pulling on the rod of shelves, he opened the door leading back to the storm cellar. There were guns on a shelf here. He had helped Aunt Grace, as everyone had called her, put them there. She had never told a soul about it. _I don't plan on letting any soldier take my place._

Reaching the shelf, he picked up two loaded guns. With the lantern lit, he hurried to the stairway that led to the barn. Easing open the door, he went to the side that faced the house. The two men had reached the front door. He watched as one went inside.

Lacy was sick. These were the men that had been coming after her and Benny that day in the carriage. Knees almost buckling, she grabbed Jamie's arm.

"They tried to kill Benny and I when we wrecked. I hope they didn't see me in the carriage since I was lying on the floor."

"Just keep quiet and I will think of something to tell them." Jamie said, his jaw twitching in cold fury. "That's what I get for letting down my guard."

The two men rode up as if they owned the place.

"What are you doing here?" one man with long scraggly hair asked, spewing tobacco juice between Jamie's boots.

"We live here," Jamie said calmly. "Although not as many of us now."

"Our folk and kin were killed," Kim whispered, wiping her eyes.

Jamie could have killed her for drawing attention to herself.

"That a fact?" The other one tsked. "Maybe we can be of some help here. You being just a boy and all. We could help guard these purdy gals for ya."

At this, both men went into fits of laughter.

"Might even marry you to make it legal like." The younger one eyed Kim.

So mad she could spit, Kim grabbed Lacy by the arm.

"Guess we just got two more mouths to feed our pudding. We better get a fire started and get some vittles going," she smiled as she dragged Lacy through the back door before either man could react.

"Right nice of your women to be so hospitable." The older soldier grinned.

"Yes, it is," Jamie said, wondering what in hell Kim was up to. He had to act like nothing was wrong here. "Would you like to put your horses in the barn while the women get some food made?"

"They could sure do with a rest." The older one rubbed his jaw as though trying to decide the wisdom of being away from his horse.

"How many of your family survived?" the younger man asked. He had been looking to see if there were more people there.

"Just the three of us," Jamie said. "We were at a neighbor's. The fighting passed them by. I couldn't believe our family was caught in the crossfire. Awful this here war."

"Where's your rig?"

"Got stolen during the night!" Jamie said.

"Tough!" The younger one sympathized. "No way to get nowhere and all." But he was mystified. They had been watching this place for two days. Must have come while they were watering the horses or something.

Benny saw the women turn and go inside the house. His stomach churned with dread. He had drawn a bead on the younger man, he was the one that had shot him. There was murder in that boy's heart. To his surprise, they started coming toward the barn. _What in hell can Jamie be thinking?_

Keeping a bead on the man, Benny waited until the three were almost to the door before he ducked back down through the storm cellar door. Through the cracks, he watched as Jamie held the door open for them.

"Ain't no feed left," he advised the two. "Just hay."

He slammed the door behind them and boarded the door. Benny wanted to shout with joy. This was some smart lad. His rifle ready if the two tried to shoot, he listened as the men swore.

"What in hell?!" the younger one cried as the barn door slammed into his horse, making him jump and buck into the older man who soon had his hands full trying to calm the horse down.

Benny slipped back down the cellar stairs and met Jamie in the main stairway. Seeing the older man's rifle Jamie gasped.

"Wherever did you find that?"

Following Benny, Jamie watched as he pulled the carrot bin away from the food storage room wall.

"This leads to the milk shed. Miss Grace, she had me help her put these here just in case."

"Well God bless Aunt Grace," Jamie said.

Benny pulled two more guns from the shelf. "We better give the women one. Might need their help."

"Can Lacy shoot?" Jamie asked.

"She sure can! That girl can take the eye out of a flea!" Benny bragged. "Her Pa taught her real good. He also taught me too, in case the war left nobody else to take care of her."

"Smart man."

They came into what looked like a milk shed. The water trickling into a vat made Jamie thirsty. Bending down, he drank. The water was like ice. Jamie didn't think he had ever been so thirsty. Beside him, another door swung open. Before he could even think, he had jammed the loaded gun into Kim's ribs.

When he saw who it was, he went white as a ghost. With hands that trembled he eased it away.

"Don't ever do that again! I thought those two had caught up with us."

"We ran in here and hid as soon as we left you," Lacy explained. "We heard that ruckus in the barn and thought they'd done you in."

Still too shaken to talk, great tears were running down Kim's face. Opening the door Benny and Jamie had come out of, Benny recommended they get down out of sight.

"They're gonna be getting outta the barn soon," he said.

Jamie glancing at the floor, saw they had left tracks. Carefully he brushed them away, then followed the three down to the main cellar stairway.

"I'm going back to the barn. I've gotta see if they got out. Don't want them finding Deliah." Benny told Jamie. "Best you stay hidden."

Before Jamie could reply, Benny was gone. Jamie knew he was right, he'd better see they had a safe place, _but where?_

Turning to Lacy he asked, "Where is the best place for you to hide? You know this place better than we do."

"There are several places, but the room at the end is the best. It leads to the cotton shed. It's also closer to the river and I know where the boat is hidden there."

"The wounded man is in that room. I never saw a door there!" Kim exclaimed in surprise.

"That was a special room," Lacy explained, "Aunt Grace was part of the underground railroad. There is a door in the back stone wall."

"We'll have to be careful those men don't find us." Kim whispered as though all of a sudden the walls had ears.

"The stairway!" Lacy gasped. "When I saw Benny in the backdoor I forgot to cover it. If they find the food we're goners!"

"Take Kim and get to the safe room. I will try and cover the stairway door before they get out of the barn." With that, he turned and ran toward the food room.

Jaimeson McGlen sat braced against the wall. All he had was a jar. If they were strangers, he'd use the broken jar on them. He'd die fighting!

The light from the lantern shown through the cracks.

"Be quiet," he heard the girl tell someone. "The wounded man might be asleep. He's in pretty rough shape. We've done about all we can for him."

Another girl's voice, low and guarded spoke. "Are you sure we'll be safe with him?"

"I hope so," the one he recognized said. "He was alright in the head earlier."

Jaimeson relaxed. It was probably another member of the family he hadn't met yet. If the girl brought someone, it must be alright, as neither the boy or girl had been a threat to him. They all seemed to be hiding in this underground cellar.

Jaimeson wondered if the Rebs had come back. He had seen some of them fighting from the house. He had also heard a woman screaming as he lay trapped beneath his horse.

Funny thing he'd have sworn it was a Reb that had helped move the horse off him. But then, his mind was sorta fuzzy about that time. Still, he knew that there were some decent Rebs. They were just fighting on opposite sides. This was one crazy war after all.

Kim eased the door open. Lacy held one of the guns on her hip ready to shoot should the wounded man prove a threat.

"Hello there," Kim said in a soft voice. "I've brought company. We'll be staying a while, if you don't mind." She went on as if this was a normal conversation. "This is Lacy. And by the way, I'm Kim. You never did tell me your name, or I'd introduce you properly."

Stunned Jaimeson sat open mouthed.

"I'm Jaimeson McGlen!"

"Oh my God!" Kim screamed. "Your Jamie's Pa!"

Jaime eased the door at the foot of the stairs open an inch at a time. He knew if he was caught, the girls would pay dearly for it. Looking and listening, he waited. What he really wanted was to run there as fast as he could. Those boards might mean life or death to them all.

All at once, there were too many lives to care for. The thought all but floored him. In the beginning there had just been him and Kim. That hadn't seemed so much. Now, there were five. And even with Benny's help, it felt too daunting.

He had worked his way inch by inch to the top of the stairs. Peeking over the top seemed to take forever. When he heard the cracking of boards from the barn, he knew he had just seconds to draw the boards across the hole.

Jamie didn't think he had ever prayed so hard in his life. His armpits were soaked and sweat ran in his eyes making them burn. Wiping the sweat away left long dirt lines on his face and dark smudges around his eyes. All he could think about was the water in the spring house. He'd almost kill for a long deep drink.

When he had pulled the last board into place, he heard a loud crack and knew his time was up.

They had broken out of the barn.

He hurried back to the food room, dragging bags and four crates into the outer room. It looked like the room had been ransacked and stripped clean. Then he pulled one of the bins against the door leading to the stairs before he hurried toward the room were the wounded man and the girls were waiting.

He was almost to the room when he heard Kim scream his name. Gun up and ready he threw open the door. There, holding the man's hand, was Kim. She was grinning ear to ear.

"What's wrong?" he demanded, mad to the core. "What in the hell were you screaming for?"

He was ready to kill someone at that point.

"It's your Pa," Kim replied, less loudly this time.

"Pa?"

"I knew I should know you," Jaimeson McGlen uttered weakly. "But it's been so long. I didn't know what had become of you. Your ma never answered my letters. And I didnt know if you were dead or if they had gotten lost."

Jamie stood for several seconds. At last, he spoke, his throat tight with tears.

"I knew I should have known you too." Tears slid down his cheeks. "But you were so cut and bruised up you didn't look like you. Oh Pa! It's all been so awful!"

He cried, kneeling beside his father.

To ease him some, his father asked, "What's this about two Rebs being out there?"

He'd noticed Jamie hadn't mentioned his mother.

Sniffing, Jamie wiped his nose with his sleeve. This brought a smile to the wounded man's face.

"They came out of the woods this morning. The girls offered to get a meal on and I offered to help put away their horses, like they was company. I held the barn door open for them, and I knew they were up to no good, so as they went through the door, I slammed it against the last horse's rear. While they was trying to get the horses settled, I locked the barn door. They just now got out and they'll be mad as Hell."

Lacy told him about how Benny had gotten the guns from the shelf where her Aunt had them hidden.

"Thank God for Aunt Grace," Jaimeson McGlen chuckled. Seconds later, they heard a scratch on the door that sent them into a panic.

"It's only Benny," Lacy explained quietly. "He's a friend, and as far as I know, the only person from the world I know that's left."

"They're out of the barn and I saw them heading for the house and they sure ain't happy," Benny said.

"All we can do is hope they don't burn the place down. We'll need everything in there," Lacy said, wringing her hands in the folds of her dress.

"I'll let them do a little hunting and then check on them from the spring house." Jamie spoke with renewed determination.

"I will keep an eye on them from the barn." Benny agreed. "It has the best views of the place."

Taking the lantern, he was soon out of sight

"First, we should check to see if this stairway is still okay," Lacy said, going over to the back wall.

They watched as Lacy removed a rock. There was a wall behind that and with a push a section of the wall opened. Curious, Jamie followed. He couldn't get over the fact that there were so many entries to this storm cellar.

From behind, Lacy spoke, almost making him drop the lantern.

"It was built so no one would be caught out in a storm. There are several more. This place has been built twice before. The last time my Uncle built the house of brick and had the storm cellars put in.

"Aunt Grace ran this part of the underground railroad herself. She would bring slaves through here while my Uncle entertained some pretty important people up in the house."

"You must have come here a lot?" Jamie asked.

"Yes. Aunt Grace was really a great person," Lacy whispered with a lump in her throat.

"Your Aunt and Uncle led a pretty chancey life by the sounds," Kim put in, hardly able to believe anyone could do such daring things. "It's a wonder they weren't found out."

They arrived at the end of the tunnel and Lacy opened the door. They entered a small room. As far as Jamie could see, there was no way leading out, but Lacy went to a corner and pulled the whole wall away. Beyond, Kim and Jamie saw the heaps of dried corn. Around the corn, a hall led to the front of the building. They could see the house from here. Two horses were far across the field, headed for the wood.

"Look!" Kim gasped. "Those men are riding away."

"Don't get too excited," Jamie warned. "They may be back. And there might be more when they do."

Benny headed to the end of the stairs and took the door that led to the cotton shed instead of the barn. He wasn't so sure now if he wanted to risk being caught out in the open of the large barn building.

While the shed was a long way from the house, he should be able to get back in time. It was not knowing where the two men were that bothered him. Keeping close to the wall, he found a crack that was big enough for a good view. He almost choked when he saw the two men coming toward his hiding place.

Afraid to linger any longer, he ran back to the door. Once safely inside he watched the two ride by the open door of the shed. Relieved, he realized they were headed for the river. Easing open the door, he saw them cross the river and ride off into the woods.

Waiting to see if they returned, he eased the heavy door shut. The shed should have been filled with cotton this time of year, but the owners had been smart and shipped the cotton bales out along the Staunton River as fast as they had been put together. Sadly, they had not been smart enough to get their family away in time.

Benny wondered at that. Why hadn't they left on the boat that took the cotton? Had the fighting started here and then moved up river? He remembered the letters in Lacy's bags now. Was she carrying a warning to her aunt?

When two hours went by and the men hadn't appeared again, Benny returned to the cellar.

Lacy and Jamie saw the men go to the river.

Jamie asked, "Can they find the boat?"

"No. I doubt it," Lacy told him. "The boat's up a small creek below where they crossed. It's pretty swampy and thick with willows. If you didn't know where the path was, you'd never find it."

She paused, moving to see out another crack in the wall.

"Lindy and I hid it last summer," she went on, glancing at him over her shoulder. "Aunt Grace didn't want us on the river with all the strangers prowling around."

"Is the river very busy?" he asked, afraid all of a sudden they could be invaded from there.

"It used to be," Lacy answered thoughtfully. "I loved to sit on those docks and wave and holler at the boats that went by." She pointed to where two long piers ran from the bank out into the water. "I suppose all we'll see now are troops and more troops."

She sounded as though she could see them in her mind's eye already.

Jamie studied the land. They were pretty much out in the open here. The river ran along the property as far as he could see.

"Pretty big place, this," he said. "Where have all the slaves gone, do you suppose?"

"I wondered that too," Lacy said. "There were never too many. But to keep from being accused as abolitionists, there were some freed slaves hiding here in plain sight. Hopefully, they escaped when the fighting started, and went North."

Grabbing Jamie's arm, she pointed. Shadows moved along the woods. "Are they coming back? I saw something moving out there!"

"We'd better get back before the others get worried and do something foolish like going out there looking for us."

The swishing of the door made them both jump as Benny eased into the corn crib.

"They went across the river but there's some shadows over in the far woods. I closed the big doors on the cotton shed, don't want anybody seeing us inside if we need to go back there."

Jaimeson McGlen had sat listening quietly as Kim related what had happened since he was last home. They had both cried some, and Jaimeson had been filled with fresh guilt that he hadn't been there for his family.

"I can't understand it," he had explained to Kim. "As far as I knew there wasn't a soldier in that part of the country yet."

"Pa told me he heard there were bands of outlaws roaming out our way," Kim explained. "I'd say the way they killed, that's what they were."

Kim sighed.

Jaimeson could see how telling him the whole story had drained Kim. His admiration for her and his son grew. How they had survived to get this far amazed him. Shaking his head, he lay quietly until they saw the light through the crack in the door.

His insides tightened. He never knew if it would be his son or someone new that had found a way in here. Kim's face was a mixture of fear and relief. She sat with the gun aimed at the door. When Jamie opened the door, she let the gun drop. Relief taking over, she smiled.

Jamie explained what had happened.

"This place is as busy as a bee hive," he growled. "It wouldn't be so bad if we knew who was out there."

"Can't we just wait for a day or two?" Kim asked, looking from Jamie to Lacy. "If we stay out of sight they may think no one is here and come out into the open."

"We need some of the stuff from the house," Lacy told them. "I couldn't get anything but the candles last time. I could get some things as soon as it gets dark with Benny. We both know the way in and out."

"I will come to keep watch," Jamie said. "That way you'll both be free to carry stuff. In the meantime, we better get busy and move the food. We can do that while we wait for dark."

"Might be a good idea to divide it up among the separate rooms," Lacy added.

"And make an emergency bag up," Kim told them. "We may have to leave in a hurry."

# Chapter 7

Lindy Clinton eased her way along the edge of the woods. Clyde and Polly following.

"I sure don't like this," Polly whined. "There's haints ( _evil spirits_ ) over there, I know it."

Lindy rolled her eyes at Clyde. He stood quietly back along some berry bushes. His biggest fear was that the soldiers would come back. The last place he wanted to go was that open field. He had seen the two men and recognized them as the men in the house. The full berry pail was all they had left to eat. It had been all day since they had a drink of water. The thought of the icy water in the spring house was almost enough to make him run to it. But there were people there. He had seen three or four at least.

Days past, Clyde had offered to go back to the house. With the moon out, he watched to see if anyone had remained. Clyde had taken his time. When he got to the backyard, he had seen two people burying a whole pile of bodies.

He couldn't be sure, but he thought it was a girl and a boy. Surprised and scared, he had watched. He knew they must be burying Miss Grace and the rest of the family.

Lindy had been a mess the first day. But by the third day, when there hadn't been any more fighting, they had gone to see if Lacy and her family had survived. It was in the wee hours of the morning when they had found Lacy's carriage. The huge spots of blood and the dead horse still hitched to the carriage told a horrific story.

There were dead men and horses along the way. Two of the men had been friends of Lindy's father. Looking at the carnage, they had turned back and here they were, wanting to go home.

Lindy could not believe the fire had been put out by the rain. She had cursed as it drove down on her head and back. Now she was sorry she had done so since it had saved her home, if she could get back inside.

In this war, neither man, woman, slave or child was safe. It just wasn't fair. And the more Lindy thought about it, the madder she got. Turning to Polly and Clyde, hand on her hips, she grated from between clenched teeth, "That's my house and I aim to keep it. I don't care what it takes!"

"Polly," she said, "You go on out to the shack in the swamp and tell the rest of the household the fighting is past us and there's work to do." Turning, shoulders aquiver, she faced Clyde. "You know we gotta keep this place. We've got no guns and it's gonna be a trial but we just gotta keep it."

Clyde hesitated.

"I guess we've got no place else to go tonight," he said. "This place is gonna take a lot of fixing for someone to run again."

He looked out across the fields.

"Well we're gonna have a passel of wood. Would you look at those destroyed trees!" she said.

Clyde watched as Lindy got madder and madder. _Good for her,_ he thought. It will relieve some of the pent up emotions. She's gonna need a lot of mad before she gets through this war.

Leaning towards Clyde, Polly whispered, "Shouldn't we tell her about the house? We should be leaving."

"She isn't ready to listen yet, let's give it a few days for the grief to settle."

As soon as the long shadows of dusk had lain to rest, Lindy rose.

"We better go see what's left and where those people we saw today are." she said. "Best we go in the house first. I haven't seen anyone in there in a while. We'll do what has to be done. And as for my family, somebody's gonna pay real dear for that!"

Clyde could have sworn Lindy had grown two feet as she stalked across the field in full sight. He wanted to shrink to the size of a mouse. His six foot, two hundred ten pound body felt like a class A target and cold chills ran up his back.

"It's all right Clyde," she soothed. "If they were going to shoot, we'd all be dead already. Those soldiers don't fool around. It's the two looters that scare me."

She gave him a scared grin.

"They are something else," Clyde said. "If they are still waiting, they are gonna get some trouble from me."

Lindy knew Clyde was right. If he got his hands on them, they were going to end up dead. Clyde was the strongest man she had ever seen. It had scared her to see him pick up two molasses barrels, just to prove a point her father had made.

She recalled that day as if it were yesterday.

_Strongest man I ever saw_ , her father had bragged to Lacy's dad. _Put him up against any two of your best._

Two huge tears blurred her vision. She stumbled and would have fallen if Clyde hadn't caught her. Lindy grabbed his hand and held it until they reached the lilac bush.

"I'll check the house while you wait here," Clyde said.

Clyde slid along the side of the house. He checked all the windows and his keen ears found nothing but silence. On the back steps, he saw the cat. It meowed and together, he and the cat went inside.

There were no bodies rotting in the back room. Somebody had taken them away. They had been good people and his heart was heavy for them.

Poor old Moanie, as he had always called the cook, she was a good old gal. She had been here ever since Clyde could remember. They had slashed her head off. He recalled the day as if it were still happening.

A Week Earlier...

Miss Grace packed almost all the curtains and bedding. She ran from room to room, finding things she wanted to take.

"We'll be gone for quite some time," she explained to Polly.

"I can't think what's keeping Lacy!" she muttered, running to the window every five minutes in a frenzy of looking and packing.

"They'll be along soon," the master soothed. "I'm going to send Polly, Clyde and Lindy on ahead."

"But she'll be alone," Miss Grace anguished.

"I know but she'll be safe with Clyde," he replied.

Miss Grace had been about to cry. The master put his arms around her and said, "Better get yourself together. I sent someone to check on Miss Lacy."

Then Clyde and Polly went on ahead with Miss Lindy in the carriage. The household had already been sent off in another wagon filled with the things Miss Grace felt they needed to take.

The carriage bumped along, and Miss Lindy reached down to pick up the crate that held her cat. But the crate was empty. Someone had forgotten to fasten the lid. Polly yanked on Clyde's coat to get him to stop.

"The cat's gone," Polly called.

Clyde argued that there wasn't time.

"We can't go back," he insisted. But Lindy had already gotten out of the carriage and started walking back. In the end they started back to the house. They hadn't gone far when they heard the sounds of fighting.

Clyde yelled "They've come!" and turned the carriage back.

Then he sent the carriage careening along at breakneck speed.

"What's going on?" Miss Lacy cried.

"There's a war going on! We're going to the swamp just like the master said to," Clyde yelled at her as he fought to keep the team from flipping the carriage.

"The soldiers were coming this morning," Polly said. "That fool Miss Grace, she should have told you before."

"Lacy, Momma!" Lindy cried. "Oh No! They'll be killed."

"There's nothing we can do. The master said to take care of you," Polly said, her jaw sticking out. "This is some fine pickle!"

If the situation hadn't been so dire, Lindy would have laughed to hear her go on.

"The rest of the people were sent to the swamp last night," Polly informed her. "The master said to stay till the fighting's over."

Then Lindy remembered the storm cellars. "I hope they can hide in the cellars."

"They will be alright." Polly soothed the weeping Lindy.

The road that led back to the swamp was filled with bog holes. The carriage jolted so bad some of Lindy's boxes fell off. But no one paid them any heed. On the driver's seat Clyde quietly cursed the horses as they ran covered with sweat. The mosquitos swarmed their backs and faces.

"This is the devil's country," Clyde snarled. "These bugs grow footlong stingers! I'm gonna be bled out soon."

Polly pulled the side screens down but the bugs were still able to get in.

"Put this over your face," she instructed Lindy, giving her a piece of fabric. "These bugs are gonna eat you down to the bone."

Still muttering, she tucked Lindy's skirts tight around her legs.

Lindy watched as Polly smeared some foul smelling grease all over herself.

"It keeps the bugs off," she explained, rubbing some on Lindy's hands and shoes.

"Sure does smell something awful though," she said, making a face that brought a wane smile to Lindy's face.

A jolt sent Lindy and a screaming Polly sailing to one side of the carriage. Lindy's head hit the door post, sending her into oblivion. Polly scrambled up, blood running from her head into her eyes.

From outside, she heard the neighing and thrashing of the horses. The carriage jerked, sending her back against the seat. Finally, the carriage stilled and the door jerked open. Clyde stood there, covered with mud.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I can't see anything," Polly said with blood in her eyes.

"Lord have mercy!" Clyde cried as he lifted Lindy's inert body onto the seat. A large bump rose just above her eye.

When she finally came to, it was to find both their worried faces looking down at her.

"She's gonna be fine," Clyde said, soothing Polly. "You sure gave us a scare."

"What happened?" Lindy muttered groggily.

"There was a huge snake in the road and it scared the horses," Clyde answered.

Trying to sit up, Lindy found the world spinning and dropped back with a groan.

"Just a little dizzy," Lindy assured.

Through the door, she saw trees that towered high above them, hanging heavy with moss. She saw small purple blossoms hanging from the limbs. Funny, she thought, how very beautiful it was here. Sunbeams danced through tiny openings in the leaf canopy that spread high above. It seemed to glorify every place it struck.

Finished cleaning and bandaging Polly's cut, Clyde whispered, "Make sure she stays lying down. If you will be alright I've got to get this rig back on the road now."

With that, Clyde jumped down. Going to the back, he untied the trunk and boxes setting them behind the carriage. When he finished, he stepped to the window.

"Hang on, I'm gonna lift the rig back on the road." he told Polly.

"Do you want me to get down?" Polly asked, giving him a doubtful look.

"Just sit tight," Clyde advised. "This will only take a minute."

Polly was glad she didn't have to get out. The high grass could be hiding another huge snake. She hated snakes and seldom went where they might be. When Clyde disappeared into the brush Polly felt panic building up inside her. Now she was all alone with Miss Lindy, and she didn't know what to do.

The horses were stomping around, jerking the carriage as she tried to keep Miss Lindy on the seat.

"Just close your eyes tight," she advised. "It's the swaying of the trees that's making you feel sick."

Lindy heard Polly from a great distance and shut her eyes. The dizziness seemed to ease some.

Polly sat, sweat knotting her hair and making it itch. The air was so heavy she thought she might burst trying to breath. The rustling of brush made her jump as Clyde appeared, dragging a tree limb.

"How's she doing?" Clyde asked, poking his head through the window.

"She's doing fine but I'm gonna have a stroke. Don't keep poking your head in that window," Polly said, swatting at the swarm of mosquitos that shot through the open screen.

"You're just riling them up swatting at them." Clyde said pulling the screen back down. "Sit still now, I don't want this rig going back in the ditch when I lift it."

Sitting as still as a statue, Polly took the full jolt when Clyde, using the pole as a lever, swung the carriage back onto the road. In minutes, he tied the trunk and boxes back on the carriage.

The horses, too tired, hot and thirsty to cause more trouble, slogged their way along. Lulled by the swaying of the carriage, Lindy slept.

Hours later, Lindy awoke to bright sunshine falling across her bed. She lay for a minute trying to figure out where she was. The roof above was made of board, dark and weathered. When she tried to roll over, she found the bed was narrow and almost fell to the dirt floor. Rising on her elbow, she swayed. Her head throbbed and she became dizzy.

Feeling her head, she discovered a huge lump. Then the events of the day before began to come back. She lay back, too drained to even feel. The headache stayed and she felt very ill.

Polly sat by the bed. She had been dozing but now she went in search of Clyde.

Shaking him awake, Polly explained what had happened. "I think she's very sick. She feels hot to the touch."

Checking Lindy's head, he found she was very warm.

"Get some water from the spring," he whispered.

Together with some of the other women of the household, Polly bathed Lindy's fevered body. Clyde sat across the room, his face a study of worry. He almost fell off the stool when one of the women came into the room with a foul smelling bowl.

"This will cut the fever," she said with a no arguing about it look on her face. Clyde eased back and out of the way. Now was no time to be arguing.

Rousing Lindy, the two women forced her to swallow the horrid concoction. Lindy gagged and sputtered, but they got most of it into her.

"She'll be fine come morning but she'll be weak for a few days."

"She says the bump is just a bump. She says it's the sun fever that's making her so sick," Polly told Clyde later.

Clyde and the rest of the former slaves waited in dread. Suppose something happened to Miss Lindy and their people weren't free any more? She had to get better!

Present Day...

Clyde went from room to room. The silence was far worse than the noise of the swamps had been. When he was convinced there was no one in the house, he went back to where Lindy waited.

"I don't see a soul and the house has been stripped."

"Well here goes," Lindy said. Gathering every ounce of will she could muster, she went in the front door.

"You should have went in the back way," Clyde argued. "Someone may be watching!"

For the first time in her life, Lindy swore.

"No, Sir! By God!" she said. "This is my home and I'm gonna live here! You just let them come. In the morning you ring that old bell and let our people know it's time for them to return."

Polly followed in silence. The death smell still filled the room. She trembled, thinking of things Clyde had told them. She jumped at every noise. Her keen nose picked up the smell of blood and she refused to go near the back kitchen.

Lindy went to the hidden closet. She was going to light this place up, no more hiding in the dark. She only hoped mother had left some candles. The only light she had was a stub of a candle Clyde had brought from the spring house. It was hidden in a hole by the door because the children were always starting fires with them.

Going to the back shelf, she was surprised to see almost all the candles were still there. Giving Clyde and Polly some, they placed them in all the candle holders that were left.

Lindy was almost sorry she had, when she saw the blood and destruction clearly. Seeing Polly's horrified face, she said, "We can't clean this mess up without lights. Clyde we need some wood. We're going to need hot water."

Gathering pails, mops and a broom, she started with the kitchen. Glancing around, she was amazed that there were any windows left. How could the outside be so torn up yet there be a window left in the place?

Clyde brought in water. "I saw a melon on the back wall. Do you want me to get it before someone scavenges it?"

"Yes, you better," Lindy replied pouring water into several milk pans on the stove. The room soon filled with steam and Lindy handed Polly a mop.

"You scrub that part," she pointed to the place where a table had sat. "I'll do this, I'm going to use some of mother's lye. It should bleach out the stains."

Polly nodded, relieved that she'd been spared the bloody part. Lindy threw open both doors.

"Might as well make it easy for them," she said nastily.

The soft breeze of night flowed through cooling the two woman that scrubbed inside.

Taking his cue from Lindy, Clyde was in and out of the house. He swept up the broken window panes. Taking a door from a broken cabinet, he used a rock and some bent nails to cover the broken half of the window. For the others, he pulled the shutters closed.

"That should hold for tonight," he said.

"That will do fine," Lindy agreed, resting on the kitchen door. "Do you think there is anything left in the cellar? I think we could use a little food at this point."

Polly, having gotten her courage back, was going through the cupboards. She had laid out what dishes hadn't been stolen or broken. It wasn't much but it would do for now. She started sweeping the hall and dining room.

"This door is stuck," she complained to Clyde. "If you get this open there's covers in here."

"How do you know that?" Clyde asked pulling hard on it.

"I saw Miss grace put them there." Polly said, giving Clyde a disgusted look. The door gave so fast Clyde fell backwards. Picking himself up, he saw the smirk on Polly's face.

"That's one solid door," he said with a grin.

Seeing Clyde grin made Polly feel better. She was tired and it was making her crabby, but they had to stay to help their mistress get the house livable again. For tonight at least.

Clyde had brought cold water from the spring in jars. The three drank the ice water and shared half the melon.

"I think we should bring those two feather beds down here tonight," Lindy told them. "We'll put them in the parlor since there is a good view of the whole place there. Clyde can sleep on that day bed in the den. That way he'll be near. We'll finish in the morning."

She yawned, hoping she was tired enough to sleep.

The three slept the deep sleep of exhaustion. Early, before sunrise, Clyde and Lindy descended the stairway to the cellar.

Clyde tried the door but it wouldn't budge. "Something's blocking the door," he said, perplexed.

"Try harder," Lindy advised. "That door ain't that solid. But be careful all those jars are on the shelves on the back."

Clyde put more pressure on it and it slowly opened. Looking around, he saw why. One of the bins had gotten caught on it. Reaching around, he moved it with ease.

"Now how on earth do you suppose that got there?" Lindy wondered aloud.

Clyde gave her a funny look. The cellar looked pretty empty. Lindy wondered if her folks had put the food on the wagons with the household and valuables. At least there was some food left. Lindy decided to take it up to the house.

Going in with an arm load, she informed Polly.

"We're moving the food up here. We'll put it in the hidden pantry. I'll need your help."

Hungry and tired, Polly hurried to comply. She smelled the hams as she carried.

"It sure does smell good." She smiled at Lindy.

"It sure does," Lindy agreed. "I mean to bake a pie as soon as I get this done."

Polly grinned, her mouth watering at the thought.

Clyded had waited until Lindy was back up the stairs, then he went to the other door, placing the board across it. For good measure he braced one of the bins against it too.

"Ain't no one gonna get in here again!" he muttered. He had seen the footprints and marks where someone had come in and taken food. He would check the other doors soon when he was done. Someone knew this cellar was here, _but who?_ Clyde made a mental note to put bars on the house doors.

Clyde insisted they move everything before they ate. It took some doing but when they were through, the cellar was empty. They ate and planned the day.

"I'm going to check the cellar doors. It looks like someone's been in the cellars." Clyde told Lindy.

"Good Lord!" Lindy gasped. "I never thought about them. Better close them all off. That's the first thing we must do."

Rising, Clyde went in search of a hammer. He wanted those doors closed. If anyone was hiding down there, they'd have to go out by the river. In the tool shed, he found a hammer and nails. The sides of the barn gave him all the boards he needed. One end of the shed had a whole wall blown out. As he went in to inspect it, he saw the cow.

"Lord have mercy!" Now how did you get here?" he asked the wide-eyed cow. Clyde saw the cow's udder was full to the leaking point. A pail stood in the corner. Someone had put the cow here and had been milking it.

Looking around he saw small boot marks. Whoever it was wore boots Miss Lindy's size. Taking the pail he milked the cow, it hadn't been milked today. Well, he mused, they sure got lucky this day.

Lindy and Polly hurried to see the cow.

"That looks like Lacy's cow." Lindy exclaimed. "The soldiers must have brought her here. I'd know her anywhere. She has that heart on her side. Lacy named her Deliah."

Clyde spent the day closing off all the cellar doors. He had rung the house's bell right after breakfast. He watched as the others brought both the carriage and a wagon loaded with supplies and furniture back.

When dinner time came, Lindy called them all to the house. There she fed them all a big dinner.

"I want you to tell me the real reason we were sent ahead without the others. I've been kept in the dark long enough."

"Your momma didn't want you to know the army was coming," Polly said. "But they came early. She was secretly moving us all North because she knew they were coming for a long time, but she wouldn't leave sooner. That's why she sent us to the shed in the swamp. She knew no one would find us there."

"This place is gonna be the Northern army's camp. We're gonna have to go live someplace else soon," Clyde said.

"I'll not let them drive me out!" Lindy shouted. "This is my home."

"But your dad, I overheard him say he sold it to the army," clyde said

"Then where's the money?" Lindy's chin jutted out in anger.

"I do believe it's in the trunk," Polly said, hurt that Lindy had gotten angry with them.

Sure enough, as Lindy and Polly went through the trunk that her mother had packed her things in, they found a leather pouch. Inside, was the bill of sale and a huge wad of bills. Lindy held the packet in numb hands. Why hadn't her parents trusted her to know about this before?

"They said the less you knew, the better off you'd be." Polly told her sadly. "And there's a letter in the pocket of your green dress." Polly pulled the letter from the dress. "I was only supposed to give this to you if they didn't make it away in time."

Slumping down on the floor, she covered her face and wept for her folks. They had known and not wanted to upset her. All along, they had let her think she was going on a holiday. When really they had tried to send her to safety. She, her mother and Lacy were running away.

But fate had stopped all that. Someone had given them some wrong information. It had already been too late and her parents had paid the price.

Up North...

The new house in Albany rested quietly on the banks of the Hudson river. The activity on the river could be seen from the porch. Cool breezes blew off the river even on the hottest of days.

Clem and Daisy had kept watch on the dock for two weeks.

"Why haven't they come yet?" Daisy asked Clem for the hundredth time.

"If I knew I'd be telling you for sure."

"Ain't like the Misses to send us here and not come back like she said she would," Daisy fretted.

"There's a war going on, ain't nothing like it's supposed to be."

Daisy rose, "I'm gonna get busy. The boxes gotta be unpacked and the furniture has to be set. You just sit and wait! I can't stand this waiting around no more!"

Clem grunted as the screen door slammed.

"Ain't gonna give it up. They're gonna show!"

Inside, he heard the rustling of paper. He knew he might as well get inside and help her.

The slamming of the front door made Daisy jump.

"You trying to give me apoplexy?" she said. "I'm just worried, the misses said she was gonna be here last week. And Miss Lindy, she ain't here yet either. I just got a bad feeling."

"Well this will all be done when they get here," Clem soothed her. Clem studied the house. "This is some fine house. There's more room here and I see the garden's doing pretty good. Be some stuff ready this week."

Back In Virginia...

Lindy looked at the boxes and barrels. The letter had given directions to her new home. She went to the side yard and Clyde helped her plant a rose bush where the dirt was fresh on her folks' grave.

Going out the back door, she plucked the burned timbers off the shed. The smell of frying ham drifted across the yard. Puzzled, she glanced back to the kitchen. There wasn't a soul in there. No food was being cooked. All of a sudden, the hair rose on the back of her neck. She tuned to run, to find Clyde.

"Somebody's in the cellar. I can smell ham cooking," she whispered. Clyde followed her to the kitchen door. "Let's go see, we may as well know who it is before we leave."

Clyde eased his way into the corn crib. "I sure hope we don't get shot in the process."

# Chapter 8

Lacy sat looking at the man that was Jamie's father. Kim lay sleeping, little soft snores emitting from her.

"She sure has been through a lot," Lacy sympathized.

"They were real nice neighbors," Jaimeson McGlen said.

Jamie came in with a milk pan full of ham pieces.

"That Benny sure can cook." He grinned. "We should see who's living in the house. We never did get anymore supplies."

"I'll go with you," Lacy said. "I have to see if there is any soap. Aunt Grace always made plenty."

"Benny says the cow's either been milked or is drying up," Jaimeson told them between bites.

"I thought there was less milk," Lacy said, looking from father to son.

Benny came in from cooking in the cotton shed.

"There's someone coming from the corn crib!" he said. "Must have smelled my cooking."

"Lindy! It's gotta be Lindy. She's the only one that would know where the door is!" Lacy yanked open the door she was gone before they could stop her. "Lindy! Lindy! It's me, Lacy."

"Oh God she better be right!" Jamie groaned.

Clyde stopped dead in his tracks.

Lindy, white faced, cried out, "Lacy? Lacy? My God you're alive!"

The two met crying and babbling.

"I thought you were dead!" Lindy sobbed.

"We thought you'd been taken by the soldiers or killed!"

"Oh, Benny!" Lacy cried. "It's Lindy and Clyde!"

Here the two men grinned as the girls broke down sobbing. It was impossible to understand them.

"Let's get Jamie and Kim," Lacy said to Benny.

Lindy and Clyde followed Lacy and Benny back to the cellar. Once the introductions were over, they decided to move up to the house. Benny and Clyde carried Jaimeson up the stairs.

"Have you been back to your house yet?" Lindy asked Lacy.

"Just the once. I have no idea where my parents are. They think I'm away with your family."

"I sure hope they left before the fighting started." Benny said. Now that he dared leave Lacy alone, he told her he'd go bring in her trunk and boxes. "They're gonna be wet and all."

Clyde agreed to help Benny.

After returning and stowing the trunks, Clyde and Benny scouted the edges of Holly Hedge Plantation. Benny almost jumped out of his skin when Clyde tapped him on the shoulder.

"There's a whole pack of soldiers coming down the road. Best we get back to the house. I gotta get Miss Lindy out of that place."

Benny and Clyde ran back across the fields. Bursting through the back door, Benny said, "There's a pack of soldiers heading this way. We're loading up the carriage and wagon and we're getting out of here!"

"But my Pa, he cant get out in time," Jamie said.

But Clyde said, "He's for the North, he'll be fine. They're not gonna do anything to their own man. But I wont trust them with Miss Lindy and Miss Lacy."

Outside, the rattle of wagons could be heard.

"It's too late!" Benny said. "We gotta go to the cellar."

Warning the women not to talk he shooed them out to the spring house. Around to the front of the house, they heard the sounds of wagons, horses and men.

"But why are Jamie and Kim coming?" Lindy asked.

"Jamie's Pa told him to get Kim somewhere safe," Benny said.

"Did you get the money?" Lacy asked Lindy.

"It's been under my dress since I found it," Lindy said, patting her stomach.

Lacy felt the money belt that she and Kim had made for her. Kim had suggested they sew it in a piece of clothing to wrap around them.

"Where are we going?" Kim asked.

"My folks bought a place up North," Lindy told her. "We should be safe up there. That is, if we don't get stopped by a bunch of Southern soldiers. No one seems to know just where they are."

"Best we don't do any more talking," Clyde advised. "We don't want the soldiers hearing us."

The end of the tunnel came into sight.

"This is it," Benny said. "I'm gonna get the boat."

It took several tense minutes, but Benny came back up the tunnel without even a splash.

The boat had always seemed big to Lacy but now she wondered if it would hold all of them.

When the girls were in the boat, Clyde took Jamie's arm, "Best we walk. Benny can take the women to a safe place. That boat ain't big enough for all of us. He will take them back into the swamp. There's plenty of waterways where they won't be seen."

"But I thought they were to go North?"

"They are. They're just going the back way. There's fighting all over, but most folks don't know these waterways well. We've been taking slaves North this way for years."

"What about the wagon and the carriage?" Jamie asked.

"They'll be waiting up ahead to take the women the rest of the way."

Confused, he followed Clyde along the narrow path. The bugs, stirred up by their passing chewed on the two men. Jamie had never been where there were so many, nor so big. Neither man spoke as they walked. As good a shape as Jamie thought he was in, he was hard pressed to keep up with Clyde.

Once, he slipped off the trail and into a slippery mud that sucked at his foot. Clyde easily jerked Jamie out.

"That's quicksand. It'll swallow you up," Clyde explained.

Shaken, Jamie set his mind to keeping on the trail. Morning found them at a clearing. Standing on stilts, was a shack. The sound of chickens told Jamie that someone lived here.

From a porch that surrounded the house, Benny hailed them.

"About to come looking for you!" he called.

As they crossed the clearing, Jamie could smell food cooking.

"We made some good time, Lindy called. "Come in and eat."

Jamie wondered where the food came from, but was too hungry to ask. When he had eaten some griddle cakes with molasses and bacon, he looked for a place to rest.

The fly buzzed around Jamie's mouth, landing, biting, then zooming off into the rafters, waiting, only to dive down again as soon as Jamie's snores filled the afternoon air.

The heat, so intense it made breathing almost impossible, only increased as the day wore on. Sweat soaked the cloths of the weary travelers. Tossing and turning they slept in short spurts. It was as if someone had thrown water on a red hot stone. Steam rose from the underbrush and the waterway.

A dog bayed off somewhere in the distance, followed by a gunshot. Benny's chair hit the porch where he was keeping guard with a loud thump. Far down the waterway, two loon's hooted. In one bound he was inside the shack.

"There's someone coming down the way," he yelled. "Get to the boats and get going."

In seconds, nerves shattered, the cabin became a tangled mess of people, blankets and rushing about. Still fuzzy with sleep, the travelers were on their way.

They hired two men, Karl and Jim, to take them upriver. Their huge arms knotted with the strain of rowing upstream as they sent the boats skimming along at a mile eating pace.

Still half asleep, and dazed by the speed with which they had been herded from the cabin to the boats, Lacy wiped the beads of sweat from her face. Taking her hankie from her dress, she started to dip it into the cool clear water.

In an instant their river driver Karl grabbed her arm.

"Dont," he said.

Lacy, stunned, just gaped at him, surprise leaving her mouth hanging open.

"The perfume will leave a scent on the water any half-wit hound could follow."

As understanding dawned, Lacy's face became white with fear and then red.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

Putting more energy into the oars, they soon covered the seconds the altercation had cost them. Still holding Lacy's eyes with his, Karl nodded to show he knew she understood.

Seated at the second boat's set of oars, Jamie's muscles stretched and ached as they sent the boat sailing forward. He envied the ease with which the other man rowed. But then, Jim had been raised with the only means of transportation being by boat.

Every island around had to be reached by water. Jamie hadn't seen one bridge and no place around was linked to the mainland.

The heat was breathtaking. His mouth was sticky and dry. Sweat ran down his forehead and into his eyes, making them burn and itch. Jamie was thankful there was shade here. He doubted he could have stood the sun burning down on him throughout the afternoon. He watched as Lacy, Lindy and Kim lay back to rest. The hours since they had left the shack had been pure torture.

Jim kept glancing back to see if they were being followed. As dusk set in, he spoke, so low Jamie almost missed it.

"Gotta side track around this next bend."

Instantly alert Jamie forgot how tired he was.

"Why?" he whispered.

"Local landowner thinks this waterway is his. Got a redbone hound he cut the tongue out of so he can't bark out loud. Best damned coon dog around. That dog goes crazy if a soul goes around that bend." Jim replied in a southern drawl, turning the boat up a narrow creek. "Watch out for that snake!"

Jamie jumped. He saw the snake, big as a tree trunk, wrapped around a limb overhanging the creek. Cold sweat broke out all over him. His mouth, dry before, was filled with bile.

Slime dripped from the snake as though it had just come from the water. As they drew close Jim pulled a machete from the boat's bottom.

"Keep rowing," he instructed Jamie.

They were almost under the snake now. Jamie saw why the snake was wet. A small baby gator hung limp from the snake's mouth stretched hugely as it worked at swallowing its meal.

A second later, he was amazed to see Jim swing the huge knife, slicing the snake in half. The snake jerked, thrashing about the limb. With a mighty thrust of the oars, Jamie sent the boat forward more with fear than strength. Behind them, the snake thrashed in the water like a giant sea monster.

Jim guffawed, his mouth spread into a grin. "I'm no snake lover. I'll go a mile out of the way to miss them. But that old crawdad, he's been scaring the jeepers out of us for some time."

Jamie sat trembling. He didn't know if he wanted to laugh with relief or cry. The oars lay limp in his hands. Head down, he gulped great gasps of air.

"Don't fret. First time we saw him, Pa about had himself a fit and nearly tipped the boat over. Nowadays, we go by the hound dog. But we gotta keep the women out of sight." He shook his head as though he couldn't believe he's done the snake in. "Pa is for sure gonna be glad I got that critter."

He smiled pulling harder on the oars.

Finally relieved, Jamie settled down to pulling the oars with renewed energy. Around the bend, they met up with Karl in the first boat waiting for them.

The snake had left the water as they slid by, Karl explained.

"I was afraid it might attack your boat if disturbed with its meal."

The boats slid noiselessly through the water. The evening was a nightmare of giant gnats, growls and hooting birds. The blankets felt damp and all three of the girls had to go to the bathroom so badly they couldn't sleep for fear they would wet themselves in their slumber.

Kim had taken about all she could take. The heat made her skin itch. And the bug bites had her face and hands all swollen and blotchy. She spoke in a shaky voice, "I don't know how you men can stand it but we have to go."

Karl looked across at Jim. "It's a ways to Kiplin's Corners. What do you wanna do?"

In the end, the girls held up blankets while the men turned their heads. To Kim, Lindy and Lacy it didn't matter. With red faces, they took their turns. Kim thought she had never been so relieved in her life. The day passed into night before they asked to stop again. The weather seemed to be cooling off on the third day and the vegetation was changing.

"How far North are we?" Kim asked Karl.

"We're still in Virginia, I'd say. We'll tie up tonight and get some rest. Kiplin's Corners ain't much but you can all get washed up."

The three women looked at each other and smiled.

"Real food," Lacy sighed, looking off across the river.

"Yes!" Both Kim and Lindy smiled.

Steam rose from the river, almost hiding it. The smell coming through the window made them almost mad with hunger.

# Chapter 9

Kiplin's Corners wasn't much of a town. The street started at the pier and ran eight houses deep. The first house was a store and what passed for an inn. From the window drifted the smell of fresh bread and coffee.

Jamie's stomach grumbled and he hitched his pants up trying to cover the sound. Walking beside him, Lacy heard and smiled.

"The sound of all our stomachs would send the meanest dogs on the run." She giggled.

"If I had a cent, I'd buy everything in the place there was to eat."

Lacy, red-faced, said, "Do you think Lindy and I would let you go hungry after all you've done for us?"

"Ain't no need for pay, we were on our way North anyway."

"But if you weren't with us how far do you think we'd get?" Lacy asked, in a hushed, scared voice. "This is the very least we could do."

The doorway was lined with merchandise, which surprised them. Looking around, Jamie wondered who all would buy so much stuff.

Seeing the look on Jamie's face, Jim smiled.

"All the folk for thirty or forty miles around come here for supplies. Sheldon here does a real good business."

Inside, the room was huge. It ran across the whole bottom floor. Huge posts stood as though they were sentinels. From end to end, it was packed with everything from cups to gowns. The goods were neatly displayed and clean.

Sheldon Ross stood six foot tall. Wavy golden hair almost to his waist was tied back with a leather thong. He had seen Jim and Karl's boats docking through the heavy mist that lay just above the water.

In the past week there had been fifty or sixty boatloads of strangers running North to avoid the fighting. This boat he saw was much like the others. Slaves, their owners, and all they could cram in the boats.

Men were bent and depressed. Women were exhausted, red eyed. And all were gnat-eaten. Women huddled close to their men, fear and uncertainty written all over their faces. People caught up in a war they didn't want or understand. Some so poor, they couldn't afford to eat. These people he fed without pay. He hadn't sent anyone away hungry.

His attention was drawn to a slim young woman with jet black hair. He thought her beautiful. There was a freedom to her walk. She was smiling at the other two women. Her teeth, even and white, flashed in the morning sunlight.

Funny, he hadn't seen the sun before. Just a long narrow beam that seemed meant just for her. Going forward, he met them at the door. Greeting Jim and Karl, he turned his full smile upon her. Deep dimples played in both of his cheeks.

"Morning, Jim. Karl," he welcomed. "See you got some travelers."

"Sure been getting busy back around their place," Jim said.

"Ya haven't seen some wagons and all come by?" Karl asked. "Be a couple big freed slaves. They're supposed to wait here for the women folk." He nodded toward Lindy and Lacy.

"Brought me your token," Sheldon said. "Came along last night. I fed them. And they looked real tuckered out, so they've been sleeping in the hay shed."

He lead the party to a table in the corner next to the back door.

Looking to Lindy, Jim said, "This here is Sheldon Ross, he's the owner of this place. And a lot more places along our way. We'll be okay with his token. It'll let folks know were okay to deal with."

Lindy introduced Lacy and Kim. Kim felt her hand wrapped gently in Sheldon's huge warm one and was surprised by the tingling that was like a shock at his touch.

"Kim," Sheldon said, his eyes softening. "And where might you be heading, if I may ask?"

His voice like a warm gentle breeze blowing across her mind.

"She's with us." Lindy spoke sharply. "We're all headed for my new home on the Hudson river, near Albany."

"Only until I can find work and get a place of our own," Jamie put in determinedly.

"Then she's your wife." Sheldon felt a jolt of disappointment.

"No. Nothing like that!" Jaime grew red-faced. "She was my neighbor and our families were real close friends before we lost everything in this war. I've been looking out for her since."

Sheldon had felt his heart lurch sickly when he'd heard Kim was with Jamie. But when Jamie had explained how come they were together, his heart soared and he felt as giddy as a teenager.

He caught Kim smiling a secret smile at him and his world lit with sunshine, although the day was dark and foggy outside. She made his stomach ache and churn with an eagerness he had never felt before.

"What can I get you folks to eat?" he asked, his smile a thing to behold.

"I'd about die for an egg, if you have one," Kim said, feeling a need to fill the funny hollow jumping in her stomach.

The rest gave their order and Sheldon rose from his chair next to Kim.

"Eggs you shall have," he told her, unable to take his eyes from her face and Kim felt her skin grow warm as she dazzled him anew with her smile.

Going into the kitchen attached to the back of the store, Sheldon felt sick and dizzy. His hands shook and his voice was unsteady as he gave the cook, Emma, the order.

"I'll need Bottie to get some rooms ready. We have special guests that will need baths and sleep."

When the food was ready he checked the plate with three eggs on it to make sure it was perfect.

"Three eggs!" Emma gasped. "Must be a mighty big fella for a plate like that!"

Her curiosity was so great she slipped over to the door. There, placing the plate in front of a petite and very lovely young lady, was a glowing Sheldon. _My! My!_ Sheldon usually gave all the women the cool side of himself. But today he was anything but.

Emma studied them for a good two minutes, then turned back to her cooking, smiling and humming for all she was worth.

"Looked like he was struck by lightning," she told Bottie as she helped with the linens for the girls room.

"That cold fish!" Bottie sputtered, snorting to get her point across. "He ain't never eyed no gal before."

"Well he sure is this one. He's always saying we ain't got no eggs to anyone that asks and here he gives this one three. Now what you think of that!"

She tut-tutted like it was the most unheard of thing in the world.

Kim gasped as she looked at her plate. There lay three of the most perfect eggs she had ever seen. With tears in her eyes, she thanked Sheldon with the most dazzling smile she could muster.

"It's been months since I've seen an egg."

"Yes, I suppose," Sheldon said. "They have become worth a king's ransom. But people in the swamp trade them for other things they need. It works out quite well."

He was thrilled that he could give her the great pleasure she seemed to be getting from a mere egg.

Placing his hand on her shoulder as though he had to touch her, he spoke softly.

"Well, enjoy."

Hearing the way Mr. Ross's voice had changed brought Lacy's head up to catch the look that passed between Kim and their host. A slight smile crossed her lips.

_Well, well,_ she thought. _I'd say there are two people here that are smitten._

From beneath lowered lids, Lindy simmered. Sheldon Ross was making an ass of himself over a homeless vagabond! Lindy had set her cap for the man from the first instant she saw him. Sheldon had left her stunned and giddy from the time he met them at the door.

Now, she simpered in a voice filled with honey. "Had I known there was an abundance of eggs, I'd have ordered them myself."

Sheldon, jerked back to reality, looked at the malice-filled face of his other guest.

"But of course, if you'd like, I'll have the cook do you up an order," he apologized, finding he didn't like this doll-faced snob.

Lindy having gotten his attention gushed. "Oh no! I couldn't possibly, it would ruin my figure."

She placed both hands on her waist to show how small it was with a coy smile.

Ignoring the gesture, Sheldon went on to inform them which rooms he had readied for them.

Lindy more than a little deflated, and in an ugly mood asked, "Would a bath be too much to ask?"

"It will be waiting for you." Sheldon smiled, knowing he had offended the girl.

Jamie, having missed the exchange, rose.

"I'll be thankful for a night's rest."

He helped Kim with her chair and led the way upstairs.

Sheldon, feeling slightly cheated, turned to help Lindy and Lacy, then led them to the stairs leading to the rooms above.

"Have a good rest," he bade them as he turned to go out the back door.

Exhausted, Lacy followed Lindy as she flounced up the stairs. She dreaded it when Lindy got into a snit. Usually, Lindy was all kindness and one of the nicest people she knew. But this would be one of her _days_. Lacy doubted she'd get much sleep.

Lacy would have liked to talk to Kim and Jamie. She wondered what they would do as soon as she and Lindy were delivered to Clyde and Benny. Where would they go? The thought of Jamie going out of her life gave Lacy a cold empty feeling. How could she let him know how she felt? She wasn't as bold as Lindy.

Two curtains had been put up to conceal a tub that steamed, clouding the room.

"I think I'll bathe first!" Lindy said. "I've been so filthy I must smell like a goat."

"Yes, I'll rest some while you bathe," Lacy agreed, ignoring the malice in Lindy's voice.

"Well I am the one with all the money!" Lindy flung her clothes in a pile on the only chair in the room.

"I plan to pay my own way. My dad always said it was best to pay your own way, then you can always go your own way."

"Now what is that supposed to mean?!" Lindy asked in a cold, querulous voice.

"Just that."

"Thankless brat."

Glancing around, she saw that there were two single beds. The room had nice furniture and puffy, inviting-looking featherbeds. Her trunk had mysteriously appeared and sat at the foot of one of the beds. She lifted the lid and fished out a light blue summer nightie.

Tears filled her eyes at the sight of the tiny rose buds her mother had embroidered all over the front. She had seen it in her hope chest and knew it to be for the night she would be married. A long, flowing satin robe lay in the tissue beneath it.

Carefully, she returned it and picked a white cotton with ruching. Laying it on the bed, she shook out a maroon linen dress for the next day, along with snow white under things.

On the back side of her bed, lay another trunk and two boxes, one for her shoes and one for her hats, gloves and bath articles. Slowly, she lifted the lid on the other trunk. Her lovely gowns lay crushed along with a large box placed at the bottom.

Curious, she lifted it and removed the top. There lay a satin and lace wedding gown. It was a frothy vision that brought a strangled sob from her. Her mother's wedding gown. Folded in its depths, lay a pearl and diamond tiara and a blue velvet box that revealed a matching necklace and earrings set.

Holding a tiny blue hankie she sobbed into it. The box revealed the truth that her parents had packed her bags knowing they might never see her again. This was their gift to her.

She almost missed the reticule and satin slippers. Picking them up she slipped one on her foot, only to find the toe stuffed with paper.

Lacy gasped as she pulled out the paper to reveal a large roll of money in each toe. There must be a thousand. She quickly stuffed it back. Sweat broke out all over her and she almost wished she'd never looked. As she replaced the box, Lindy stepped from the tub.

"You're next."

She smirked as she slopped water all over the place.

Lacy saw a wet splotch on her clean gown but said nothing. Instead, she pulled the rope for the maid.

"I'll try to be quiet so you can sleep." She smiled. "I know how tired you must be." Giving her a hug, she turned back the covers on Lindy's bed and fluffed the pillows. "Lindy, you'll never know how grateful I am for all your help."

"Think nothing of it," Lindy flung over her shoulder haughtily, as she swept the curtain aside and disappeared behind it.

For the first time in their lives, Lacy found she didn't like Lindy all that much. She had seen Lindy in a snit but never snobbish and downright mean. Waiting for her bath, she tried to remember what had set Lindy off. When had the change taken place? And when could they go back to normal?

Down the hall, Kim stood in wonder at the lace-trimmed bed and windows. The bed, a thing to behold, was so high she wondered if she could climb in.

A trunk lay open at the foot of the bed and the maid was removing delicate evening wear from it that smelled faintly of roses. The nightie was trimmed with fine lace and embroidered roses.

"This here used to be Mr. Sheldon's sister's room," the maid explained. "Mr. Sheldon says to give them to you. He says he ain't got no use from them anyhow. He says they'll fit. He's sure."

Removing her boots, Kim stepped on the thick, dark blue rug. She had never seen a rug on the floor before. Digging her toes into the soft pile, she felt the tickle and smiled at the sensation.

From a far corner covered with lace curtains, steam rose from a porcelain tub with claw feet. The smell of roses filled the air above it.

Seeing Kim looking at the tub, the maid smiled.

"You go on, it's a bath for you."

Delighted, Kim removed her clothes and stepped into the tub. She almost slipped as her foot hit the slippery bottom.

"I'll bring you fresh water to rinse your hair."

Alone, Kim scrubbed with the rose scented soap. She washed her hair and then smelled it. The scent of roses lay heavy in the long wet tresses.

_So this is how the rich live,_ she mused. _This I could get used to_.

How had Sheldon Ross known she had nothing but the clothes on her back and they had been old clothes that Lindy had outgrown?

Just the thought of him made her stomach ache. She trembled at the thought of his full mouth. How would it feel on hers?

At the thought, sharp sparks seemed to ignite every nerve in her being. Feeling flushed and ashamed, she deliberately turned her mind to Lindy and Lacy. She had been hurt by the look that Lindy had given her. What had she said to make Lindy glare at her while they ate?

She hoped the eggs weren't too expensive. Maybe that had been it. She hadn't really ordered them. All she had done was said she wished she had one. It had seemed to make Sheldon so happy. Sheldon! How had she thought of him as _Sheldon_ and not just Mr. Ross?

His face had lit up as he saw her pleasure at being served _three_ eggs. It had made her heart jump and she had given a huge smile of thanks. The eggs had been like heaven to her.

Still Lindy had been angry. She had watched Lindy's face turn from happy and smiling to pinched and mean. She would have to watch what she did around her. There were still a lot of miles until they got to the North.

Emma saw Sheldon come out of the back door, a perplexed look on his face.

"Been pole-axed." She snickered. "I've seen that look a time or two."

"He sure picked a beauty," Bottie said. "She's like a little doe deer, all timid and sweet-like. She ain't never been in any fancy place. She just stood looking at Miss Katie's room. She even treats me like a lady."

"Well don't you go letting it give you no airs. She's just passing through."

"Ain't never seen Mr. Sheldon give that room to anyone before though," Emma said, placing a stuffed chicken in the huge oven. "He ain't been serving no stuffed chicken to anyone in a long time either."

"She's pretty special" Bottie lifted two pails of hot water from the tub. "I've gotta get this to the girl with the red hair and then get some to rinse the hair of the one in Miss Katie's room."

"So she be like a doe? That's a pretty good sign."

Shaking her head she put together the apple pie. She hummed as she worked. Miss Katie's room had been kept clean but never used. Even when they had been over run with people running for their lives.

Sheldon had stayed inside all day waiting for Kim to appear. Every time someone came down the stairs his head shot up expectantly. He had cornered Bottie and asked a million questions.

Bottie had explained how _Miss Kimmy_ _be just like a doe deer. She's walking barefoot on the rug. She's laying under the covers just like a little doll._

Sheldon felt elation flow through him and sighed. He could just see her in the white gown, curled up on the satin coverlet, her jet hair flowing across the white pillows.

He almost broke the cup of coffee when Emma spoke.

"I'm making up a pie to go with the chicken," she told him, almost laughing at him when he dropped his cup.

"Sorry. Guess I was off day dreaming."

"Best you get back here. Could get a fella killed, letting your head go off in the clouds."

Sheldon watched Emma go out the back into the kitchens. His stomach felt jittery and empty. He had to be out of his mind.

Karl and Jim had eaten a late lunch. The morning had been quiet and the urge to get their boats back into the swamps had them packing up early. Jamie had been up early to help them. Lindy and Lacy had given him the money to pay for the trip upriver and both men had given him some of it.

"You did as much as we did, and you all gotta eat. Been good meeting you. And we ain't ever gonna forget about the snake!"

Jamie took the money and shook hands with both men. His face going red at the mention of the snake.

"Sure scared the life outta me," he said. "You take care on the way home." Then they had gone, leaving Jamie feeling overwhelmed and alone.

Karl in the lead boat saw the flag above the brush, or they would have run smack dab into a pack of Rebel bandits. Putting his hand up, he swung his boat around almost smashing the front of Jim's.

Drawing alongside, he pointed to the flag. "They're coming and we'd better head back to Sheldon's. You put your boat in that brush back a ways. We'll get back faster in one boat."

Once in one boat, they skimmed along. Karl kept a watch along their back trail. Jim sat silent and heaved with powerful strokes. Sweat ran into his eyes and his stomach was a tight knot, his thoughts going back along the route wondering if everyone had been warned that the Rebs were coming in time.

He wished old Cobb hadn't had his hound's tongue cut out. He was a mean old cuss, but those Rebs had a way of making a man talk or wish he had, especially that renegade bunch.

They had to get the girls out of Sheldon's place or they'd be in big trouble. He shivered at the thought, causing him to row all the harder.

Sheldon stood leaning on the front door sill soaking up the sun. His ear had been turned to the noise from upstairs. The girls had been up and would be coming down any minute. The excitement had him strung like Clem's fiddle at harvest time.

A flash at the edge of the clearing brought him back to earth and he reached for his gun as Karl and Jim, now in the same boat, shot into the open. The boat was coming at him full speed.

"Trouble!" he shouted, bringing men from the back around to the front and out of the woods. Every one of them with a gun at the ready. In seconds, twenty five men had settled down in the brush at the water's edge.

He met Karl and Jim at the pier.

"Reb flag coming this way," Jim told him. "We've got fifteen, twenty minutes to clear the women out of here."

"Take them to Todd's place. It's near and they'd never find the trail."

Lacy had just shut the lid on the trunk when Sheldon yelled, "Trouble!"

Her heart leaped and she ran to close Lindy's trunk. Lindy squealed in surprise. At that moment, Emma the cook opened the door.

"Quiet!" she said. "You all get down stairs. There's Rebs coming."

Bottie had run to Kim's room.

"Get them shoes on," she said, throwing the muddy shoes at Kim. "I'm gonna take you to the swamp. There's a pack of no good Rebels coming and we've gotta get! Mr. Sheldon says you gotta go with me."

Outback, Jamie watched as Clyde put the trunks back on the wagon and then disappeared into a tangle of brush that could have hid an elephant.

Shaking, Kim waved to Jamie as she and Bottie ran into the brush. Holding Kim's hand, Bottie ran so fast that Kim was soon gasping for breath. There didn't seem to be a path but Bottie knew the way.

Finally, when Kim stumbled, Bottie slowed to a walk.

"You sure can run." Bottie grinned. "I was worried I was hurrying too fast for you. But Mr Sheldon said if something happens, I was to take you to the swamp where he has a shack no one can find. He sends me and Emma here when bad men come."

"Where will Lindy and Lacy go?" Kim asked, confused to find they hadn't come.

"Mr. Sheldon sent them to Todd's place. Ain't nobody gonna find them there. Their boat can't hold anymore people."

Brush snapped behind them and Kim froze.

"Ain't nothing but Lou and Emma bringing food and your trunk." Bottie whispered. "Mr. Sheldon will be along as soon as he can."

Bottie took Kim's hand as they came to a creek. A pair of boards spanned it and Kim, still trembling, let Bottie help her across. Another quarter of a mile and they came into the open where a house stood. Here, Bottie told her to wait until she could help Emma with the food.

When they appeared again, Kim could see someone carrying the trunk Sheldon had given her. The house wasn't all that big when they grew near. But once inside, Kim paused to catch her breath.

It was breathtaking. The walls were stuccoed and white washed. The doorways were all arched and the windows ran from floor to ceiling. Lacy curtains and deep blue drapes flowed to the floor that were covered with blue rugs just like the one that had been in her room. Deep blue matching sofas and chairs were facing the fireplace made of large stones. Through an archway, she could see a beautiful dining room. Everything glittered and gleamed as though it had just been cleaned.

Emma watched Kim's face. The awe and pleasure was almost funny.

"Come, I'll show you to your new room and then I'll feed ya. Mr Sheldon has guards out in the swamp so we'll be fine," she soothed as they ascended the circular staircase.

Here, too the steps were carpeted. Kim was convinced she'd died and gone to heaven. Too busy looking to talk, all Kim could do was follow.

Off a huge landing, were four doors, open to let the breeze flow through. Light fell across a polished floor with a runner leading to each door.

The rooms, large and light, waited as if inviting one to come in. The beds were covered with different colored spreads, with drapes on the windows and rugs to match. The sun, overhead now, left the corners in shadows. Bottie came up the stairs with a wash pitcher of water, smiling.

"She sure does like it here," Emma said to Kim, laughing at Bottie's humming. "She used to be Miss Katie's personal maid."

"If I may ask who was Miss Katie?"

"She was Mr. Sheldon's sister. Had the fever and went to her Maker. She was the sweetest child. Pure shame. It about broke his heart. Now his brother is the only kin he has left."

"I'm so sorry."

"Mr. Sheldon, he was never the same," Bottie whispered.

Kim saw tears in Bottie's eyes. She felt small and humbled by their devotion to the girl.

"She's been gone for five years now," Emma continued. "Time we get moving on. Bottie will help you while I make dinner."

With this, she left Kim and Bottie to their tears.

From below, Kim could hear Emma and Lou's soft voice murmuring as the smell of food floated up the stairway.

Bottie folded all the clothing from the trunk into cedar scented drawers in the white wardrobe. A huge swivel mirror stood in a corner between two windows, reflecting the entire room. Kim sat in a rocker, watching tears that fell on the clothes as Bottie tenderly put them away. She would recall this moment with everything she wore and would feel the heartache. She didn't like the feeling, but it seemed she had had a heartache forever now.

She jumped when Bottie asked "Where are your momma and papa at now?"

"They were killed at the beginning of the war. My Pa joined the army and we never heard from him again. And the rebels didn't take too kindly to my Ma treating wounded Union soldiers."

"This sure is a bad war," Bottie said. Then the sound of a bell pulled them from their thoughts. "You best go eat my dear."

# Chapter 10

Back at the inn, Sheldon and three men hurried Lacy and Lindy down the stairs and out the back door. The men carried a bag and the trunks. Off to the left, and out of sight of the main pier, Karl and Jim drew their boat up near a smaller pier.

The girls were relieved to see Jamie as they were hustled into the boat, which shot along a narrow waterway.

"What's happening?" Lacy whispered to Jamie.

"Rebs heading this way," was all he said as he rowed with aching arms.

"But where are Benny and Clyde?" Lindy asked. "We were supposed to head overland this morning."

"The roads will be full of Rebels too, unless I miss my guess," Karl said.

"We've got to get you to Todd's place." Jim informed from the front where he grunted, putting as much strength into rowing as he could.

Silence fell as everyone sank into deep thought. Lacy scanned the banks while Lindy made as small a target as possible. She shook like a leaf. She had seen Bottie take Kim off into the woods. Why had that been?

Now Lindy regretted snapping at Kim. She had been jealous. Sheldon hadn't really flirted with Kim, so why had she gotten so jealous of her? Anyway she was going North and would probably never see him again. But he was very handsome.

Dark hung over them, and still the boat slid through the water as noiselessly as though it were a ghost. No lights burned along this route. The night sounds lulled Lindy and Lacy into a fitful sleep.

The sun rose, letting fingers of sunlight fall on the five in the boat. Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, Karl pulled the boat into the brush and said, "I'm too tired to row anymore tonight."

They had tied up to a thick branch and soon were fast asleep.

Now with the sun up, it was time to push on. The Todd place was an hour's row away. It came into view as the sun struck the peak of the house. Smoke rose from the chimney. Dogs barked. And somewhere, they could hear the clanking of iron on iron.

As they drifted up to the pier, Benny and Clyde could be seen trying to fix a broken wagon wheel.

"That road sure is a devil to travel. You'd best take another boat the rest of the way now," Karl said. "Jamie, you take the women in and get them fed. We'll help Benny and Clyde load up a boat."

"Confounded dog," Jim said, a hound snarling and barking at their heels.

"But he's got good ears," Todd said, a big grin showing his snaggletooth. "He heard you round about dawn."

"A mile or so ain't that good with all that's going on," Jim said.

"Seen anything of the army?" Todd asked, as if there was no need to hurry.

"Back at Sheldon's, we had to skedaddle. There's a bunch of Rebel boats coming up the way. Almost caught us off guard. Had to switch over to this way," Karl said.

"Reckon they're headed this way?" Todd asked. He spat at a rattler in their path. Ahead of him, Karl's boot shot out and beheaded the snake waiting to get revenge for the tobacco spit. "Ain't no cause to kill that one. Its mate will be here, waiting for a shot at us later."

"Ain't no snake lover," Karl said. "Got that old one down by Cobb's place with a machete. He had a small gator he was eating."

"Glad to hear that," Todd said.

The wagon, with its new wheel, waited on the dock. The load had been lightened by half, and Jamie nodded toward a pile of boxes, barrels and furniture on the back stoop.

"The women decided to reduce some of their belongings for speed," he informed the men. "Mr. Todd, he traded for food and the flat boat."

"Will you, Clyde and Benny be able to handle it alone?" Jim asked.

"We'll give it all we got," Jamie wondered if he even had the strength left to make the long trip.

"Well, Clyde knows the way, so you listen to him and you'll be fine."

Jamie was in a hurry to get going. His back had an achy feeling. His ears picked up every splash of water and crackle of brush.

In the house, Lindy and Lacy were finished with a hot bath. The food being cooked in the kitchen smelled like heaven.

"I sure will be glad to get out of that boat and stay on dry land." Lacy told Mrs. Todd."I don't think I will ever want to go on another boat."

Mrs. Todd smiled at Lacy. "I used to think the same thing. Now I'll be glad to be able to go someplace again. No one dares to travel except the men anymore."

Loneliness was evident in her voice.

"Do you have family close?" Lacy asked.

"Two days away," Mrs. Todd put bacon alongside pancakes. "I haven't seen Janice in months. She did send word she and the children were doing fine. Still. It's getting awfully busy around here. We have soldiers coming through every so often. I told Mr. Todd it wasn't safe for Janice and the kids to be way out there alone."

"Where's her husband?" Lacy asked.

"Poor Les, he got taken early in the war. Now she's out there all alone."

"We'll be set to leave shortly," Jamie called from the backdoor. "The boat's all loaded and set to go."

He took a seat beside Lacy.

Lindy eyed the two. _Two peas in a pod_ , she thought, a little jealous.

"I'll be glad to leave this country," she said nastily, making Lacy look pointedly at her.

Clyde noticed the flippant way Lindy acted as they boarded. The set look on her face boded trouble and he was too tired to pamper her.

"Mr. Todd says we best get skedaddling before the soldiers get here. He says to go the way I used to go with your Pa."

This just egged Lindy into being contrary.

"I guess this is my boat and we'll go as I say from here on!" she informed them all, standing with her hands on her hips and her jaw jutting out belligerently.

Lacy, sensing trouble, reassured her that it was indeed her boat and that they were all forever in her debt, but if they gave Clyde and Benny trouble, who would row it? They had gone over two miles before Lacy had Lindy calmed down. Still, Lindy was cool toward them. Behind her mosquito netting, everyone could feel her glaring at them, even if they couldn't see her eyes.

Lacy, laying on a blanket, wondered what it would be like spending every day with Lindy's mercurial temperament. She wondered where her parents were. Were they looking for her? Did they think she was safe with Lindy and her parents? The long, hot afternoons were a mixture of exhaustion and tears. She was both sad and scared for the future.

When Jamie took his rest from the oars, he came to talk to her.

"Where are you gonna go after we get Miss Lindy to her new home?" he asked.

"I really don't know. I've spent most of the afternoon thinking about that. I have some money but it's not enough to do anything grand."

"It's good that at least you have something," Jamie said, leaning on one elbow.

"What are you two talking about," Lindy said. "Everytime I turn around your huddled together. What's the big secret?"

Lacy jumped. One look at Lindy, and she wished she'd stayed asleep.

"We were talking about what we're gonna do once you're at your new house." Jamie rose to go back to rowing.

"Oh, well, I suppose he'll have to go back after his little friend." Lindy grinned.

"I do believe that's the plan." Lacy was more than a little annoyed with her cousin. "After all, Kim has no family and they grew up neighbors. I feel kinda sorry for them."

"Well what about me?" Lindy asked. "I have no family either!"

Looking up, Lacy saw the raw sorrow on Lindy's face. She had forgotten about that. Somehow she couldn't picture either of their parents dead. All at once, she doubted their being alive.

Jamie avoided Lindy and Lacy as best he could. The flat boat went a lot slower than the big row boats of Jim and Karl's. Those boats would have cut the travel time in half.

# Chapter 11

Jaimeson McGlenn lay buried among the quilts, the afternoon sun warming his body. Sleep came and went in short batches. The house rustled with daily noises, muted by the closed door. Still in a great deal of pain, he couldn't seem to find the right position to keep his leg from hurting.

The wound on his head itched. Sweating didn't help much either. The field surgeon had checked all the wounds and found them healing well.

"Whoever took care of you knew her stuff, we could use a few more like her."

Jaimeson held his tongue. He hadn't told anyone about the three women. Just that some young woman passing through had helped him for a couple days. "They were here for three days. I never did find out their names."

A short knock at the door brought him back from the edges of sleep. Captain Taylor strode into the room. Jaimeson's stomach jumped like a frightened frog.

"Well, McGlen..." He grinned. "We meet again."

"Sorry, I can't stand and salute, sir," Jaimeson apologized. "This arm and my leg don't seem to hold me yet."

"But they are healing nicely," the Captain said abruptly. "I've been told you should be up in a week or two. I hear you boys drove Mackey and his men almost out of the state."

"I don't know, sir. I spent the first days in the cellar with the dead horse's leg. That's where those people found me."

"You in on all the killing and burning?!"

"No, sir," Jaimeson said, giving the Captain a hard look. "I was too laid up to move when that bunch rode in. I heard the women scream but couldn't do anything to help. I was praying they didn't find me. I sure couldn't have gotten away."

"You got any idea who those people where?"

"No, sir. But probably the folks that lived here." Jaimeson cleared his throat. His stomach growled. He hadn't had food or drink in over a day.

The Captain looked at him. "I'd feed you, McGlen, but there's no food to feed any of the men. I'll have one of them bring you a drink."

With that, the Captain turned to go.

"Have you searched the cellars?"

"We found nothing but a rotted horse's leg," the Captain said.

"I heard the people who cared for me talking about there being a rabbit warren of rooms behind the cellar doors. Said there was food there. And seeing as how you came on them so sudden, well, maybe they didn't get time to take it all with them," he said, knowing damned well that was the truth.

"The back wall of the cellar is really a secret door I heard one of the slaves tell someone," Jaimeson went on as the Captain hesitated, his hand on the door knob. "Worth a look."

Jaimeson shrugged, flinching as a jolt of pain shot down his arm.

"Yes." The Captain noticed the pain that filled Jaimeson's eyes.

Jaimeson lay back, wondering why Captain Taylor had been so abrupt. The two had been together at the start of the war. He had stopped counting the times they had fought side by side. They had been separated in Virginia. But as soon as Captain Taylor had walked into the room, he could feel the dislike emanating from the man. What had happened to make him dislike Jaimeson all of a sudden?

Outside the door, Captain Taylor stood, his stomach as empty as McGlen's had sounded. He wondered if he had been telling the truth about Aunt Grace. He hoped to hell so. Standing beside McGlen's bed had been one of the hardest things he had ever had to do. But he was sure the soldier had nothing to do with the large grave that lay beside the house.

McGlen was in as bad a shape as the men in the barn. There had been nothing save the pig and some corn for over a week. The corn had been eaten the day before yesterday. The cow in the barn would feed them tonight. He would check the cellars for himself but he had never heard of a warren of them. McGlen probably had dreamed he heard them say that.

Going to the kitchen, he took Jeff Strome by the arm.

"Come with me," he said, grabbing up a lantern. Leading the way, he headed to the burned out back room where he moved the charred boards aside.

"Were going hunting," he said. "McGlen said he has no idea who lived here. Didn't seem to know about the grave outside."

"Think he's telling the truth?" Jeff asked. "I've never known him to be a liar. And I was his neighbor a long time before this damned war was ever started. What are we hunting for?

"McGlen said there's a warren of rooms behind the cellar wall. Though I never heard tell of it. Said he heard the folks taking care of him talking about it. I came here for years to see Aunt Grace and I never knew of any being down here. Still, I never knew Grace was active in helping slaves go North, either."

When the boards were pulled away, steps led to a wooden door. In the cellar room, Captain Taylor held the lantern high.

"Supposed to be a false wall here. You check every board on that side and I got this side. Look for a short board, that's what McGlen said."

He was about to give up when the wall fell away from him and he almost fell into a dark tunnel.

"Good God! I guess I found the door. Maybe he is telling the truth. If so, we may have some food! This must be where she kept the runaways. Must have built this the summer I had chicken pox and had to stay in Richmond."

Three men were brought down to carry some of the food up to the house. He and Jeff went clear to the river through the tunnels. He was amazed at the rooms and stairways.

Jaimeson lay awake, waiting. He hoped Jamie and the girls had left some of the food. He was so hungry, he felt faint. All afternoon, he had heard an extra hurrying in the outer rooms. When the door creaked open, his stomach jerked. He lay with his eyes closed.

A familiar voice spoke. "Heard you were in here."

Jaimeson's eyes jerked open of their own accord. "Jeff? I heard you were killed early on!"

"You're a sight for sore eyes," Jeff said. "You oughta know I'm too mean to kill. Had us a ruckus and I got knocked out by a limb that got shot out of a tree. They went and left me for dead! But I came to and joined the next regiment that came through. And here I am!"

"That must have been when I got sent off one way and Taylor the other." Jaimeson said.

"Probably we were in the same camp, but in different regiments. There were so many men there, it would've taken a month to get around to seeing everyone." Jeff was still awed by the number of men that had enlisted.

"Think you could get me a drink of water?"

"Ain't nobody got you some yet?"

"Not yet, but I keep hoping. That Captain Taylor and I used to be friends. Can't figure out why he's so mad at me."

"Let me get you that drink," Jeff said, rising quickly to leave the room.

Jaimeson lay back, knowing full well Jeff had avoided answering him. He sure hoped Jeff would remember that water.

He was almost asleep when the creak of the door sounded Jeff's return with water.

"It's icy cold from the spring house. Best damn water since we left home."

The water went down smooth and teeth-jarringly cold. Jaimeson drank deeply and felt it give life to his pain wrecked body.

"You sure are stove up! How long have you been like this?"

"Can't really tell," Jaimeson said. "It's been so long since I have been able to tell which day is which."

"I kinda know what you mean," Jeff said, hitching his chair around so he could see the window. "Captain Taylor keeps a log.And he says it's October 29th. _Christ!_ Time's sure got a way of slipping away. It's gonna be Christmas soon and we ain't never gonna know it."

He slammed his knee with a loud whack that had to hurt his fist.

"All we can hope for is that we don't starve to death. Or worse, be sent North where it gets cold enough to freeze a fellows balls clean off," Captain Taylor said from the door.

Both men jumped as if shot. Neither one had heard the door open.

"Trying to give us a heart attack instead of freezing or starving us?" Jeff laughed.

Captain Taylor stood, grinning. "Not starving! That cellar you spoke of, you were right. We've been hauling food up for almost an hour. Aunt Grace had been putting stuff away a long time and no one ever knew it."

"Aunt Grace!" Jaimeson gasped. "You knew the folks that lived here?"

"Used to come here every summer. I looked forward to it all year."

"Well I'll be damned. I'll bet if Miss Lindy had known it was you, she'd a had a fit." Jaimeson said.

"You know Lindy?" The Captain asked, white face and frantic. "Where did she go?"

As the smell of food cooking drifted up through the house, Jaimeson related what had taken place now that he knew it was safe.

"I don't know who all is in the grave there. But my son and our neighbor's girl, they found and buried them. First time I've seen my boy in four years. Took a few days before we even knew who each other was."

A deep sadness lay on Captain John Taylor's heart. He had been so anxious to see the family. They weren't really related, his mother had married again when his father died. He had been just a baby at the time. The Taylors gave him the family name and Aunt Grace always made her place feel like home. Each year at school, he felt empty, but come June, he was a new person when he showed up at Aunt Grace's door.

When the war started, John had written Aunt Grace and Lindy once a month. When he heard that fighting was getting closer, he had bought their land for a pittance.

_I'll always have a place for you,_ he had written. _You can keep on living there._

He had never known that Lindy's father had bought a home in the North for them.

Two weeks earlier...

"I doubt that folks around here will forgive us for helping runaway slaves," he told Grace. "It's best we leave it to John. He's young and he'll do fine."

So plans were made and the two had sent Lindy on ahead with Clyde. The thing they hadn't planned on was the renegade bunch that came along too soon.

Surprised, they fled to the cellars. There, they had placed a boat loaded with what they would need for their escape. They had seen a wagon careening down the road as a fire was lit above the cellar door to hide their exit.

"Where's Moanie gone?" Grace asked about their cook as she stepped into the boat.

"She's gone to see that the fire covered the cellar door. She'll be out of there in no time, she knows the way."

But Moanie had seen the wagon and who was in it. It was driven by William Mudd, his daughters, and his wife heavy with child and in labor, bent over clutching her stomach.

"There's a passel of soldiers just up the road. We've got to get to the cellar! There a door in the milk room." Moanie said, trying to hustle them to the shed.

"They're coming right on our trail," Mudd said. "We have to get the Missus to the house. She's ready to give birth."

"They're all gone and we need to go too. You'll all be safe in the cellar. No one knows about the place."

She begged them to follow but Mudd just shook his head.

"She's gonna have that baby any minute."

Feeling fear creep up her back, Moanie helped get the woman up the stairs. Going back to the kitchen, she saw a fearful sight through the window. The pack of soldiers had caught William Mudd leading his team to the barn. Moanie was frozen to the spot. She watched as one of the soldiers cut Will's head clean off with a saber.

Turning, she grabbed both of his daughters and tried to shove them toward the milk house.

"You've got to get in the cellars!" The girls, filled with horror and fear, just ran to the house where their mother lay giving birth.

Moanie could only look on and shake her head. She knew in that moment she was dead or soon would be. The cries of a newborn rang out as four men stepped into the room.

Blood ran from the leaders saber as a cruel, inhuman look spread across his face. Moanie saw the saber fall. The mother was the first to die. The newborn lay silent, its life ebbing away from a slit throat. From outside the room, she watched as the two girls were savagely raped and then stabbed.

In a daze, Moanie left the stairwell. In the shed, she threw water on the burning boards and kicked them across the hole where the cellar stairway was to hide the exit before returning to the kitchen.

Moanie saw her death. The sun beamed through the kitchen window. Outside, a battle raged. A cannon ball blew the window out going on through the open back door.

Some time later, Jamie wrapped the head and placed it in the shroud covered arms of the woman. Tears fell on it, and he'd never known their names.

Present Day...

Far to the North, the November winds pierced the light wrap Lacy wore. Snow had been falling the better part of the week. Lindy shivered and coughed. Her fevered face cooled by the breeze was as pale as death.

"Do you think she is gonna make it?" Clyde asked, his eyes ever watchful.

"I don't know ." Lacy's teeth chattered. "It's just so cold. How far do you think it is yet?"

"If this map is right, I'd say maybe tomorrow night," Jamie guessed.

Lacy went to her trunk.

"We were packed to go South not North. If Aunt Grace had had a lick of sense, she'd have told us so we could have been prepared." Digging through her trunk she found nothing that would help keep Lindy warm. The gowns were useless. She sat back, tears filling her eyes. "Where are we going to get something warm around here?"

Benny gave Clyde a slight nod. Rowing close to shore Clyde said, "I'll see if I can find something."

When the boat was near enough to shore, Clyde strode off into the brush. Back out of sight, he saw the cabin. Hooting three times, he waited until a woman opened the door. Looking around, she wiped her brow then her hands with a red cloth. Clyde, getting the all clear signal, approached the house.

"Clyde!" She said. "I thought you were all dead. I heard you were all killed down there."

"Ain't dead yet." He returned her grin. "I'm taking the little gal up Albany way. But she's coming down with a fever and chills. She needs warm covers, all she's got is thin clothes."

"She doesn't have warm covers?" Bessie gasped. "That poor thing will die out on that cold water. I'll see if I have something. This ain't no weather to be out on the river."

Bessie ladled a bowl of soap out for him. Clyde knew better than to ask what was in it, but it was good and hot. And he was hungry. When Bessie came back, she gave Clyde two thick quilts.

"This is the best I can do. Hasn't been anybody by in a while. With all the fighting nobody can travel."

Handing Clyde a bottle, she explained what it was.

"Just give her a little in a glass twice a day. She'll be fine."

Rising to go, Clyde turned back.

"I'll be back in the spring." He kissed her.

"I'll be here," Bessie whispered.

Clyde smiled and then was gone.

Wrapped in warm quilts and taking the herb tea, Lindy was feeling better by morning. She sat enjoying the warm sun that had been absent for so long. She couldn't wait to get in out of the cold.

It was almost dark when the house came into sight. High on a knoll, lights blazing, he saw the star quilt on the porch railing.

"There she be Lindy!"

Lindy and Lacy scrambled up front, almost falling in the water in their haste. Lacy grabbed Lindy just in time. Gasping in fright, and laughing with joy, they saw Clem and Daisy waving.

Clem met them at the dock, his face wreathed in a smile that was splitting his face almost in two.

"I was about to give up on you, but Daisy said you'd come when you could. She's got the house all fixed up for you."

"We sure are glad to be done rowing. I don't think I could go on for much longer." Clyde grinned, rubbing his shoulder.

"How long have you been traveling?"

"Ever since you left, but we sure did get into some fixes."

Lacy helped Lindy up the last few steps. She could feel her shaking.

"I think we best get her into a warm bed," she instructed Daisy.

"I've got warm chicken broth," Daisy said, taking Lindy's arm. "We'll get you in bed and get you fixed up and well."

Jamie and Benny helped carry the boat's load up the steep steps. It was late when they brought up the last of Lindy's things. It was back breaking work and Jamie was glad to climb into a bed. He was cold and knew he could finally sleep a full night's rest without being disturbed.

Lacy lay listening to the new sounds. The rain had started about eleven o'clock. It rattled the windows like pieces of stone.

_It sure does rain hard here,_ she thought.

The clicking on the windows lulled her to sleep.

Jamie sat by the window, he had seen snow before but not like this. The storm had started right after he had come up to bed. He watched as the sleet grew heavier, then seemed to stop, only to be replaced minutes later with huge flakes of snow. The snow lay a blanket of white across the countryside, turning the river into a huge dark ribbon as far as he could see.

The cold seemed to seep into the house as the hours eased by. The clock on the wall struck one as he turned toward the bed. How lucky they were to have made it here before the storm struck. He was almost too tired to sleep. Or so he thought.

Clem and Daisy sat by the fire in the kitchen.

"I'm guessing that Miss Grace and the Master didn't make it," Daisy said sadly.

"I'm not gonna give up on them yet," Clem said, not sure if he really believed it or not. "There's still time yet. Might be they've been waylaid somehow."

"Miss Lindy is sure sickly, I hope she'll be alright."

# Chapter 12

The carriage bumped along the narrow road, flinging mud up into the driver's face. He was soaked from the rain and chilled with cold. The city of Philadelphia would be coming into sight soon. He had been on the road since just after dawn. His next stop would be the Bull's Inn.

Henry Cotter hated this run. It was the worst leg of his run in late fall until early spring. The land here was open and flat, letting the wind, rain and snow whip through and beat a person's body without relief or mercy. Why anyone would live here, he'd never know.

Far ahead of him, lights let him know he was close. But distance here was deceiving. What looked close could be an hour or more away. Still, as the rain drove at them, the horses picked up speed, knowing that rest, warmth and a feeding lay close by.

The road, more traveled than usual, was filled with ruts that would soon become frozen and hazardous to carriage, man and beast. The carriage slid and bumped on its way, swaying and almost unseating him. He had to grin to think what it was doing to the four people inside. He bet they would be as glad as he was to stop.

Inside, Aunt Grace clung to the side strap. She had seen the lights of the city glowing in the distance. Her throat felt dry and her stomach jumped like a rabbit in a cage.

"I hope there's no one here we know."

"I doubt there will be anyone awake at this hour," her husband Ted said, patting her hand.

"No one would recognize you in that get up anyhow." The woman across from her laughed.

"I always wondered what you'd look like all big and fat." The other man guffawed.

"Real funny," Grace said. "At least it eases the pain of sitting on these hard seats."

"There's that to be thankful for," her husband agreed.

The carriage rolled over a high arched bridge. Lights shone from torches below. A guard stepped out of a building and waved them down.

"I need your passengers to step down."

"We've been through this a dozen times, we know what to do," Grace said.

Feigning shaking, she let her husband help her down. The mud oozed up and into the already frozen shoes. She looked so old and bent that the guard stepped up to prevent her from falling.

"She'll be fine," her husband said. "Just give her a minute."

With a hand that really trembled, she reached out and patted the man's arm. She looked so frail that he advised them to get back inside, his face covered with guilt and shame.

"I'm ever so sorry, but I'm obliged to inspect everyone coming over the bridge."

What seemed like hours was only minutes and soon they were on their way.

"Well done, my dear. I'd recommend you for the stage anytime." The other woman laughed.

"If you ever have that kid, it'll already be full grown," Gracie joked back.

"Well, I guess it's easier to carry all the clothes you own in layers? I'll admit it's hard to keep it all wadded up to look right." The woman readjusted her fake belly.

The coach bumped to a stop in front of the inn.

"Be leaving at seven in the morning," the driver advised them, leading the way to the back for their bags.

"Do you travel in snow storms?" Grace's husband asked, heaving a small trunk to his shoulder.

"Sure do, that bother you?"

"No. But the women, they get giddy," he told the driver with a wink.

"We'll be fine," the driver said to the women. "When are you expecting? I kinda like having an idea so I can judge where to stop if need be. I haven't delivered a baby yet."

He grinned, setting her bag just inside the door.

"We think it's twins but I'm not due until March," she said as relief slid across his face. With a smile she closed their room door, then broke into choked laughter.

"Did you get a look at that face?" Grace snorted, trying to shut off the laugh that would have been heard clear to the street.

Both men shook their heads in amusement. These two women never ceased to amaze them. They never could tell when they were on the up and up.

"I think we'd better get some rest." Ted smiled at her. "It'll take you an hour to get undressed and ready for bed."

Grace rolled her eyes up at the tall, handsome man.

"Ever sleep with a fat old lady?" she snickered.

"Plenty of times." Grinning, he rubbed the sore spot on his ribs where she elbowed him for his remark.

Grace lay among the softness of the double feather bed. The moon hung high above, slanting its rays across the bed. She wondered where Lindy and Lacy were. The last minutes before the troops had started fighting in their front yard had been hectic.

There hadn't been many troops, twenty at the most. Back along the road Lacy was to take, she had heard the booming of cannons during the morning. Worried that Lacy wouldn't make it, she hadn't kept track of her nephew.

One minute, he had been headed to the cellar, and the next, he lay in the front lawn, his head lopped clean off. Always friendly and without fear, he had left the house to meet what he thought was company. A deep sadness filled her and tears slipped down her face. The boy had been in her keeping.

Her sister Jessie had Jacob when she was fifteen. Jessie had paid for her sin and died giving birth to Jacob. He had been a normal child until the fire. When they lost their first house in a severe storm, he had been burned by a fallen timber. It had _addled his brain,_ as Moanie the cook had called it.

From then on, she had to keep all the candles, matches and anything connected with fire hidden. There had been several little fires before they discovered it was Jacob's doing.

Now, she cried for the loss. She cried that she hadn't been able to save Lindy, her only child. She prayed Clyde had gotten her away, safe. It could be weeks before they reached the new house. She could hardly wait to see if Clyde had gotten Lindy to the North.

Snow piled high around the inn come morning. The coachman was putting hot soapstones in when they descended the steps. Grace had switched dresses and now had a mauve brocade that glittered in the sun. The black fur cape had been turned and was now green wool, the fur inside would keep her warmer, she hoped.

Her husband had a large hamper of food over his arm. Even though she had just eaten, the smell almost made her drool.

The coach had runners on today. In minutes, they were drifting through the streets and into open country. The sleigh slid along the frozen rutted road. It dipped and swayed as silent as a fox running on grass.

The driver stopped to change horses several times. The ride through a winter wonderland was a delight to the passengers. At each stop the soapstones were changed and their feet stayed warm and dry.

Near the end of his run, the driver let the horses run full force. He was jollier at the stops and seemed to be more relaxed. At the last stop, he had grinned and said, "I sure do hate that last part of the run, but folks heading North need a ride."

The boat rolled on the rough waters of the river. The storm had swept in from the South sometime during the night. The snow, over a foot of the damned white stuff, had all but melted with the warm rains.

"Never seen the likes of it," Grace said. "This boat will take forever to get us to Albany. It's bad enough that we've had so many setbacks, but now this!"

"It's only a matter of time now," Ted soothed, pulling his collar close.

"At least it's warmed up some."

Muddy water slapped at the boats sides and debris clunked into it as though intent on wrecking them. They could see the fields on either side, covered with water.

One late afternoon, a hen coop drifted by, hens still inside, held there by chicken wire attached across the windows.

"It's even washing the North down South," Marion commented dryly.

Bloated pigs, cows and a horse had floated by. Trees and parts of buildings could be seen hung up on the edges of the banks of the river.

The Captain had tried to dock a couple times, but the docks rolled and tore loose with a life of their own. "It'll be a rough ride! We'll just be lucky if she stays in one piece."

"Does this kind of weather happen often up here?" Grace asked.

"Pretty often. We get all the runoff from farther North. It's been a warm fall. There's a lot of country north of here that gets a ton of snow. It's gotta go somewhere."

Gracie looked at her husband.

"We've gotten our share of flooding." She remembered the times they had been underwater, themselves. "How far is Albany from here?"

"Be there come morning. The winds from the South's pushing us upriver at a pretty good clip. If we don't hit nothing in the dark, we'll dock come morning."

Sometime during the night, Lacy heard the bell of a boat as it passed by.

"That river is sure raging this morning, I'd hate to be on it today. We were lucky to have beat the storm."

"That water would wash us right back to the farm," Clyde said with a frown.

Lindy sat curled in a rocker beside the round oak stove. It popped and the fire shown on the newly polished floor. A book lay open in her lap, unread. The fire made her feel warm and safe. She studied the room. When she felt better, she would put up the gold drapes packed in the curtain trunk. Those, she had refused to get rid of. They would match the golden paneling.

Funny, up here the rooms had wood on all the walls except the bedrooms and kitchen. Those had been papered. The rich tones of the wood were soft, even to the touch. She liked that. Her mother would love this room.

She watched Clyde and Lacy as they studied the river. Clyde and Benny had mentioned her new home was intentionally set far enough away from the river. Feeling guilty, she thought of Kim in the path of all that water.

The stairs creaked in the stillness as Jamie descended from his nap.

"Lotta water down there. The pier went down the river a while ago," Clyde said.

Jamie crossed the room. "It'll have to be replaced. I don't think we'll be able to get at it anytime soon though."

Grace watched as the boat sailed past their new home. The lights shone brightly from the whole house.

_Such a waste of candles,_ she thought, but she smiled knowing Daisy would want her to know she was there waiting.

Were Lindy and Lacy with them? Everything else had gone so wrong, so it would be surprising if they were. A deep sadness engulfed her and tears ran unchecked down her face to blend with the rain that had started again. Grace wondered if the sun ever shone bright and warm in this part of the world.

They would hire a carriage to take them the few miles back to the house. That is, if there were one to hire. With this weather, the roads could be flooded and impassable. All at once, she felt old, and left the deck. She wanted to lay down next to her husband and to be held. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt the need to lay her troubles at someone else's feet.

# Chapter 13

Jaimeson McGlen sat in the sun. He let it soak into his body, warming and healing him. The weather had been so sultry, heavy with unshed rain. It had made his bones ache and his breathing difficult. All the men had complained about it. Most were from the far North, where winter had set in with a vengeance. Last month, there had been a real frost. Now, the heat was on and it felt good.

His leg had almost healed, but he was left with a limp. His head still ached now and then. His clothes were patched and almost fitting properly again.

The men had dug up the garden plot and planted seeds from a pantry that had been discovered by one of the men. Captain Taylor had spent his summers here and now held the deed, but he didn't seem to know much about the place and its hidden supplies. Jaimeson grinned, recalling his surprise at finding the cellar was more than one small room. He sure would have liked to have met this Aunt Grace. She had to have been quite the woman.

Looking at the grave on the side lawn, he felt a loss. This war would take so many of the best people. He wondered who the survivors would become when it was all over.

Across the road from the house, tents had been erected where a corn field had been. Men moved about cleaning guns, repairing harnesses and oiling the cannons. New graves and crosses made of wood were in straight rows on a knoll where the family burial ground stood.

In the house, he could hear pots and pans banging as the evening mess was being prepared. The smell drifting through the window made his mouth water. He wondered if he'd ever have a full stomach again.

Had Jamie and Kim been able to get North with Lacy and Lindy? If he managed to stay alive, when this war was over, he was going North.

Far off along the river, a shot rang out. In seconds, everyone had disappeared. Jumping up, Jaimeson almost fell flat on his face. Blood rushed to his leg and he grabbed the chair to keep from falling. His head almost split with the throbbing pain that seemed to explode there.

Dizzy and startled, he fought to get his balance. When his eyes cleared, he stumbled into the house. The cook was crouched by the back window clutching his gun, white faced with fear.

"God damn Rebs, seen two boats go drifting off around the far bend. The Captain sent out a group to catch them."

The smell of burning food drifted toward them.

"Shit! They made me burn the food. Captain's gonna have my ass for that," he said, jumping up to salvage the food in the oven. "Guess if we get to eat it, it ain't that bad. Keep an eye on things while I cook and hopefully we can stay alive long enough to eat it."

"It's been pretty quiet lately. We've been having it too easy," Jaimeson said.

"Maybe you have." The cook snorted. "But we have been out on patrol and that's worse on the nerves than actually fighting a real battle. Captain says we ain't nothing but the clean up detail. We've been trailing behind the real army, burying and collecting equipment, ever since the war began."

He shoved a tin of biscuits into the hot oven.

"Well, take it from me," Jaimeson said. "It ain't nice being shot at from forty different directions at once during a battle. It's hard to tell who's who out there, in the middle of hundreds of men, and everyone with a gun shooting at once. It's mind numbing."

He shook his head to clear it of the horrible pictures that talking about it had brought back.

"Maybe you're right." The cook was unable to picture hundreds of men all shooting at once. He jumped as shots rang out farther down the river.

Both men jumped as the Captain walked in.

"Get that done and call mess," he ordered. The cook added food onto plates as the men came in. His scowl forbade anyone to say a thing about the scorched items. Some of them looked like they wanted to speak, but his face said they'd better not.

Jaimeson sat by the window with the cook's gun close at hand. The cook brought him a plate heaped with beans, greens and two hot biscuits. He gave him a sheepish grin.

"Keeps them in line if they think I'm mad. Saves me getting razzed about the state of the food." He chuckled.

"You like to cook?"

"Sure, my ma ran a boarding house. I was the chef. Gonna open an inn if I make it out of this mess alive."

Another flurry of shots and shouts sent both men ducking for cover.

"Stray shooters, coming from the back of the tobacco shed," someone yelled.

Gritting his teeth as pain coursed through his leg, Jaimeson slid the barrel of the gun along the window sill. He could just see the back of the tobacco shed. Trees lined a creek that ran along the far end. A movement caught his eyes followed by the glint of sun on a gun barrel.

Taking aim to the right of the sun spot, he fired. All he could hope for was to scare whoever held that gun. The gun flopped down followed by silence. A half hour later, two men came toward the house, carrying a limp body.

A ragged grey uniform hung from it's skeletal frame. When the cook checked him for wounds, they found he was just a young boy. He had a long red welt across one side of his head.

"Only grazed him, damn kids shouldn't be out here fighting in this war," the cook said.

"The war is full of them. They got more backbone than some of the grown men," Jaimeson said.

The boy lay tossing about with a dazed look as he cried out in pain. The bandage on his head grew a red spot where he had started it bleeding.

"Don't you be moving your head," the cook said. "Now you've got the damned thing bleeding again."

Scared and hurt, the boy lay back.

"Stay put and I'll get you something to eat." Still weak and frightened, the boy watched both men in silence. While spoon feeding the boy the cooks voice became gentle. "You got a name?"

"Bert."

"Everyone here calls me Cook but my name's Harvey."

Finally, Jaimeson rose. "I got a little something that will ease the pain."

He retrieved a bottle of laudanum, which the boy drank down with a smile before falling into a deep sleep.

"Poor damn kid. Now I gotta get cooking. And dinner's gonna be late!"

Blowing his nose, he went to the milk house for water. Jaimeson kept watch over the kid so that Cook could get on with his work.

# Chapter 14

Sun slanted through the window, hitting Kim directly in the eyes. The smell of breakfast drifted up the stairs as she tried to burrow deep into the bed. She wasn't ready to face the day. Just yesterday, Lacy, Lindy and Jamie had sailed away without her.

She was all alone and scared. Why hadn't Jamie insisted they leave some of their junk so that she could have a place to ride? Was he tired of her dragging along behind him? Would she ever see any of them again? And what would she do now to stay alive?

She wished she could stay here in this bed forever. She was tired of being hungry and lonely.

Kim didn't hear Emma come into the room. Carrying a large breakfast tray, Emma could see the pain on her face from the hall.

"The wee little thing," she whispered to the maid. "Thinks she's been dropped off here in the middle of nowhere without money or friends.

"But Mr. Jamie paid for her keep," Bottie said, perplexed.

"She doesn't know that yet. We couldn't tell her until they were gone."

"Why are you in bed on such a bright sunny morning? It's going to be a great day," Emma chirped as she entered Kim's room.

"Oh, Emma, how can you say that when I'm all alone?"

"Not so." She pulled Kim close in a gentle rocking motion. "You're gonna be fine. And Mr. Jamie paid for you to stay here until he can come back for you."

With that, she became still. "He did?"

"He sure did. He's been paid to escort Miss Lindy and Miss Lacy home and then he will be coming right back here to get you. Now you get to eating and put a little meat on those bones."

"Mr. Ross says he's coming over today," Bottie said as she spread a rose-colored gown over the settee and prepared a bath for Kim. "I ain't seen him smile like he does now in a long time. Bright as a new dollar whenever he sees you."

Kim sat stunned, her meal all but forgotten. Instantly, his face appeared in her mind and her stomach tightened and her hands shook. He was coming here today! She had thought never to see him again but now her world seemed to shine. Quickly, she finished eating. She was ravenously hungry all at once.

Bottie washed and dressed her with extreme care. Sitting in the sun she kept looking across the lawn. The sun had swung almost to the treetops. The book lay across her lap, unread.

The birds swung low and soon the sun would go down. He hadn't come and Kim felt a great loss. She had eaten a tasteless lunch and now faced a lonely dinner. She wondered why he hadn't shown. Her gown, now limp from the humid afternoon, stuck to her, irritating and heavy.

When the sun set, she rose and went to her room. Searching in her closet, she found a simple brown dress. It looked cool and she pulled it on, leaving the many petticoats off to let her skin breath.

Loons raised their voices and night sounds closed in around the house. It was too quiet and lonely for Kim.

Emma had gone back to the inn. Bottie sat on the back porch with her tired feet in a basin of cool water. Kim should have been enjoying this peace and quiet, yet it was almost worse than the din of battle that raged all across the country.

When Kim could stand no more, she joined Bottie on the porch. She was surprised to see that mosquito netting enclosed the whole porch. In the dim light from the kitchen window, Kim found a chair.

"How long have you worked for Mr. Ross?"

"About all my life. I came here with my ma and pa. They used to run boats for Mr. Ross. They're dead now, took a load up North and never came back. Mr. Ross says I've got a home here as long as I want it."

"Mr. Ross sounds like a good person."

"He is the best. He feeds everyone that comes along. He doesn't care if they've got money or not. Doesn't want anybody going hungry. He says you're special and I've got to be taking real good care of you. He has big Jim out in the woods to keep an eye out for danger. And if something happens, Jim's to take you North to Miss Lindy."

Kim smiled in the dark. "Why do you suppose Mr. Ross didn't come by today?"

"That's a puzzle. He doesn't say he's gonna do something and then not do it."

Kim watched as the sky lightened. A glow hung along the tree tops, yet no moon rose. The night rustled and the sky grew lighter.

"Why do you suppose the moon's giving off so much light and we can't see it?" she asked Bottie.

"Ain't no moon tonight."

"Then where's that light coming from?" Kim gasped already aware of what it might be.

"Lord-a-mercy! It's coming from Mr. Ross's place! Get up the stairs and pull on the high boots," she urged in a panicked voice. "Get that brown coat. I'll pack a bag. Now get! We've got to head deeper into the swamp."

Hearing the panic in Bottie's voice, Kim took the stairs two at a time. Grabbing the boots and coat, she ran back to the kitchen. Bottie lay on the floor. Her head had a big red smear of blood on it. Looking around in panic, she heard the floorboards upstairs squeak. Feeling Bottie's pulse, she knew she was still alive.

Grabbing the bag Bottie had packed, she gripped her under the arms and dragged her out the back door. She prayed that no one was looking as she crossed the lawn to the bushes. There, she worked her way to the edge of the swamp.

The plank bent and water washed over her boots, making Kim gasp. Bottie's dress dragged through it and was soaked. When they were across, Kim kicked the plank over so no one could follow them. Out of sight of the house, she used Bottie's wet dress to wipe the wound.

Kim could hear boots thumping on the hardwood floor and doors slamming. Stopping to put on her coat and boots, Kim watched the back door. Finally two men came out, one with a lantern. They followed Bottie's drag marks to the edge of the water.

"Ain't no way I'm going into that water!" one man said.

"Probably long gone, anyway. They won't last long with the gators."

As if to confirm this statement Kim heard a slither, then splash. And the second man gasped. She saw him leap back and head for the house. No longer able to hear them any longer, she never knew what they were after.

"Ain't no damned woman worth being gator bait for."

"Emery will come looking for us."

"If he wants her he can find her. I'm heading home!"

Kim heard Bottie groan as she woke up. Quickly, she placed her hand over Bottie's mouth and whispered that the men were still nearby. Trying to rise, Bottie almost fell. Behind her, the bushes whispered and both women froze.

Kim almost passed out when a large dark figure emerged from the bushes by the water, dripping wet.

"Jim!" Bottie whispered in relief. "Where is Mr. Ross?"

"He took a boat soon as he could get out of the house. He's waiting back yonder. You're hurt. I'll carry you." Looking to Kim, he added, "Keep up real close. It's boggy and I don't want you falling in a hole."

Kim was so close to Jim, she scuffed his boot heels several times. "Where's Emma?"

"She had already went off up Sid Creek. Mrs. Humphrey is having a baby and Emma was off to help her."

The reached a larger stream and there in a boat sat a man covered in mud.

"Hello Kim." Sheldon smiled.

Kim smiled with relief and her heart took a couple extra beats at the tenderness in his voice.

"We got company," Jim said.

A boat floated toward shore with a lone occupant in a black cape.

"Ain't no use shooting," came Emma's voice.

"How did you know it was us?" Bottie asked, still shaking.

"I smelled you," Emma teased as she pulled up alongside.

Still shaking, Kim thought it was likely the size of Big Jim that gave them away.

"They burn us out?" Emma asked.

"Not for now. Last I knew the house was still standing."

"They ain't coming back," Emma said flatly. " I saw them going down river."

"How many?"

"Six, small job."

Kim looked from Emma to Sheldon. The two nodded at each other, then turned their boats into a small stream that came out between the house and inn.

"They just burned one barn. They never got any other chances. The boys saw to that." Sheldon eased the boat close to the dock and jumped pulling his pistol as a large shape rose from the brush.

"Evening," Luke Crane said. "Been a while getting back."

"Had to collect some ladies," Sheldon replied, getting out of the boat, pocketing his gun. "We're gonna need some more hay and some extra hands to put up another barn. How come they left the store? Just a warning you think?"

"River rabble?" Luke asked, eyeing Emma.

"Didn't look and see. I was over on Sid Creek, helping birth a new younging," was all she said. She didn't fully trust Luke.

Jim came to walk beside Kim.

"Can never thank you enough for what you did to save my Bottie like that."

"How's that?" Emma demanded.

"Sure enough," Bottie said. "Miss Kimmy pulled me out of the house when the man clobbered me. Knocked me clean out cold. She dragged me over the plank and kicked it into the water."

"Lord-a-mercy! And here I was thinking you were a puny little thing."

Kim was glad it was dark. Her face had flamed at Emma's praise. To her, it had just been the thing to do.

"That Mr. Ross sure picked a good one." Emma grinned from ear to ear.

Kim felt her heart jump all over the place. She smiled a secret smile and all at once, her world seemed lighter and brighter.

Sheldon Ross felt weak and sweaty. Ahead of him, Kim's scent drifted back to engulf him. His heart thudded deep in his chest. He wanted to hold her so bad he jumped when Luke spoke.

"What did you say?"

"I asked if you wanted me to get the boys to come by tomorrow for a barn raising?"

"Better wait a couple days and let things get settled."

"While I'm here, I need some flour," Luke added, following Sheldon into the store.

"Funny, they never bothered the store."

Sheldon sighed, thankful nothing was gone. But upon closer look, he saw where someone had dug around looking for something. He knew what that was. Anyone who knew him should know he didn't keep cash in the store. It was well hidden and he was the only one who knew where.

Closing the door behind him, he went to the outhouse. There, he checked behind a seat. The iron box sat neatly in place, the little string still where he had put it. No one had found it, but if someone was burning his buildings, he needed to find another hiding place. It was no longer safe here.

# Chapter 15

On the outskirts of Albany, Grace Clinton pulled and tugged at the wheel of their carriage, her dark brown dress caked with mud. The sun, weak and heatless, shone down without warmth. Her hair hung in her face, long since shaken loose from the journey over the foot-deep muddy, rutted road.

"Whatever made me think I wanted to come North!? This is the coldest, meanest place I know. No wonder they're fighting so hard to get the South!"

Lacy's mother, Marion Porter, gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Even the roads are cold and mean."

"Damndest country I've ever seen." Ted growled, pulling the reins to get both horses to pull at once. "Damned horses are even mean!"

The carriage gave a loud plop and shot ahead, leaving Grace sprawled in the mud. Wiping as much of it off as she could, she climbed back aboard. All four passengers were soaked and shivering. Only ten miles to go.

Water lay pooled in small lakes in the meadows. Cows stood chewing their cuds on small hillocks, avoiding the water except to drink.

"Have you ever seen so many cows in your life?" Grace asked.

"Can't say I have," her husband Ted said.

"Are you gonna raise cattle here?" Daniel Porter asked.

"Can't say." But the thought had crossed his mind.

Water flew from the wheels as they entered a dip in the road. Beneath, they could hear the rattle of boards as they crossed a swollen creek. The land seemed higher the farther North they went. There were less water holes, but plenty of rivulets running toward the river.

Rounding a bend, Grace saw the house, all alone on a knoll high above the river. A wide porch ran all the way around it. Large windows, many glass-paned, looked out from all four sides. The doors were set with oval windows.

"That house wouldn't last long back home," Ted said.

"One good storm." Daniel laughed. "But it sure is a nice looking place."

"That barn's bigger than most places back home," Grace said, wondering why one needed a barn that size. "Must be three stories high."

"I'd guess they have to store more hay for the long winters." Marion gasped as the river came into view. "Just look at all that water!"

"Lord! And we were in there the night before last." Grace shivered.

The river, twice its normal size, railed and jumped, filled with trees and red with mud. They couldn't believe they had even thought to ride a boat up it.

From the house, came a cry of joy as Lacy and Lindy rushed to meet their parents. There was a flurry of greeting and weeping.

Daisy wept the most. "I've been watching and waiting all these weeks! We were scared you were dead."

"Home at last," Ted said as he patted Clem on the back.

After baths and clean clothes, the women inspected the house. Both Grace and Marion had to laugh at Daisy's enthusiasm showing them around.

As they sat down to dinner, Lacy and Lindy relayed their journey North while their parents' faces went pale at the story.

Lacy sat next to Jamie. As they related their tale, Jamie's face ran from red to white. It was hard hearing the journey be repeated.

"Looks like we have a hero at our table," Ted Clinton said.

Jamie blushed deeply.

"It was my job. I didn't mind at all, sir."

Lacy sat with a smile of pride and love written all over her face. Seeing the looks she was giving Jamie, Daniel Porter inspected the young man closely.

"Did you own land in the South?"

"No, sir. My pa does, though. We've got two hundred acres of good bottom land near Hillsville."

"That's over where they massacred all those families. Do you have any family alive still?"

"Just my pa," Jamie answered. "He's healing up at Lindy's place right now."

"Then Taylor must be there," Grace said with relief.

"Yes. We left before they arrived, but Clyde got word he's there now," Lacy said. "Mr. McGlen hid in the cellars with us. A horse fell on him and went through the cellar roof. He was wounded pretty bad. Jamie's friend, Kim, took care of his wounds. She was pretty good at it."

She watched Jamie's face at the mention of Kim.

"How old, may I ask, is Kim?" Marion asked.

"About eighteen," Lindy said.

"She's real pretty," she added, watching Lacy's face go from pink to pale. "And she's awfully nice and smart as can be."

She was obviously enjoying Lacy's discomfort.

Jamie, glowing with pride for his friend, missed the little jabs Lindy was throwing at Lacy. When the meal was over, Daniel and Ted invited Jamie to sit by the fire with them. The stove glowed, warm and crackling. A sense of warmth and safety washed over him as the older men puffed their pipes and talked quietly of the war and beyond.

"Will you be staying here long Jamie?" Daniel asked.

"Not long I'm afraid. There's my dad and Kim back in Virginia. I have to get back."

"You're just over the mountain from our place, you know," Ted said.

"Well, we walked it, and you could say that's some mountain", Jamie said.

Daniel laughed. "I'd have to agree there. We took some cattle over it when I was young. That's some mountain alright."

Jamie yawned.

"Well I'd better get off to bed."

Both men nodded and said goodnight.

"Some young man," Daniel said as he watched Jamie round the top landing.

"And I'll bet those girls gave him a run for his money."

"Wouldn't be surprised."

A few days later, the snow came in earnest. By night, three feet of the white stuff covered the ground. It turned bitter cold and the wind whipped the snow in six-foot drifts making travel impossible.

Jamie opened the door to see snow fall into the house. Seeing no shovel, he used a broom to clear it away. Shivering, Jamie watched the wind whipping the snow into the air, sending it whirling off across the meadows in great, cone-shaped spirals. Thoughts of warm, sunny days crowded into his mind. He could see the magnolias in full bloom, almost smelling them. He was going back. He had to. There was no way he could endure this bitter-cold land.

He jumped as Lacy spoke, shattering his thoughts into a million pieces. "Penny for your thoughts."

"I don't see how people can live up here in this awful weather."

"Thinking about leaving?" she asked.

"As soon as the weather's better I guess."

"Me, too." She smiled. "I don't have to be told this is no place for me."

In the stable, Benny helped Clyde clean out the stalls. Outside, snow drifted along the front of the barn, creating a deep wall of insulation. In the summer, it would be a cool, breezy place but in the bitter winter, it could freeze a man's privates off. The mental image made Benny hitch up his trousers and wish he could go back to the warm house. He was getting too old for this.

"I heard the Missus say once the war is over, they're going home."

From the house a bell clanged, signaling the noon meal. The two left the barn and headed back to the warmth of the house.

Watching the road, Lacy cried out, "Dear God, there are soldiers on the road!"

"Where? I don't see a thing," Lindy said, crowding alongside her.

Lacy pointed to where the tops of blue hats bobbed along just above the ridgeline. Everyone crowded around, silent and scared.

From the yard, Clyde and Benny had a good view as the soldiers turned down their road. In two leaps, they reached the back door.

"Company a-coming!"

"Everyone stay calm," Ted Clinton said. "Grace take the girls upstairs. Clyde, Benny, go ahead and eat your lunch. We will welcome them as guests."

The rap on the door was authoritative and demanding.

"Gentlemen, please come in."

Taken aback at being cut off before he could state his business, Captain Mills forgot the speech he was about to give.

Ted stepped aside as all ten soldiers filed past each other, making sure all the snow was wiped off their boots. Red faced and in extreme discomfort, they followed as Ted led the way into the parlor where a fire burned brightly in the stove.

"Come warm yourselves." Ted beckoned. "It's deathly cold out there."

Before Captain Mills could object or start his speech, Daniel pulled up extra chairs and offered a refreshment.

"Coffee, tea or a dram?" he asked the confused soldiers. "A man needs to warm himself on a day like this."

"Please," Captain Mills started to object, "We've got a ways to go and-"

"Nonsense. At least have a warm drink. After all it's a long bitter ride to the next place, I insist."

The men crowded around the warm fire agreed it was bitter out there. Not wanting to get on the wrong side of the man, Captain Mills finally agreed to stay for a short while.

"Lacy, Lindy," Daniel called from the bottom of the stairway. "We have guests, ladies."

The rustle of silk could be heard and every head turned to watch them enter the room. In demure but lovely gowns, the two descended the stairs with all the grace and elegance of queens.

Captain Mills, fuming for being denied control over the situation, choked on his drink. Lindy's eyes fastened on his and held them until she was presented to him.

"Lindy, please meet Captain Mills, who, I presume, patrols our roads."

"Captain Mills, my pleasure," she said, giving him her best curtsy.

"My daughter," Ted said, puffing with pride. "Her mother, I'm afraid, is still indisposed. We had a long, harrowing trip during the flood."

"My pleasure," Captain Mills stammered. _She's beautiful,_ he thought. His heart was doing crazy things inside his chest, taking away his breath and turning his brain to mush.

Lacy was introduced around amid smiles and compliments, but it was Lindy who had the Captain laughing as an hour turned into two.

"Dinner's ready. Please join us, Captain. I'm sure our cook Daisy has outdone herself. There's plenty for all." Ted swept his arms to include all the men.

"B-but," Captain Mills stammered.

"Once fed and warmed, your men will travel more comfortably," Daniel said.

"We must talk afterwards. I have much to tell you," the Captain said. Embarrassed and uncomfortable, the men sat in the delicate pale green silk-covered chairs. Some were confused over the many eating implements as they laughed and ate their way through the many courses Daisy had quickly prepared. Lindy and Lacy entertained the men with their heroic tale about the trip North.

Later, as they sat by the fire, fuller and warmer than they had been in months, Ted led the Captain into his library, with Daniel following behind.

"Do you want me to fetch Jamie?" Daniel asked.

"I think it's best," Ted said.

Captain Mills was all ears now. "If I may ask, who is Jamie?"

"Jamie McGlen. He brought the ladies North."

"By God, I know Jaimeson! He was sent South and reported killed in Carolina."

"That was Jamie's father," Daniel said. "But Jaimeson McGlen is alive and recuperating at Ted's plantation."

Grinning from ear to ear, Captain Mills repeated over and over again, "I can't believe it! This is great news."

"A dear friend?" Ted asked, happy to carry at least some good news.

"The very best, he was a neighbor. I heard his family had been killed along with mine." There was sadness written all over his face.

As Jamie stepped through the door, Captain Mills leapt from his chair.

"Jamie, boy! God you've sprouted into an image of your father."

Stunned, Jamie looked at his old neighbor, Kim's father. Months after recovering from his injuries, Captain Mills had followed Jamie's father and joined the Northern army.

"But we heard you were killed!" Jamie blurted out, still shocked.

"Yes, I was in pretty bad shape for a while. The men all joked that I was bad luck after nearly being killed twice now. By the time I recovered, I received word that my family and yours was killed."

"Kim's alive!"

"Is she here!?" the Captain almost shouted.

"No. We left her with a friend. There wasn't enough room in the boat for everyone."

"But why?" He ran his hands through his hair as he paced back and forth.

"Like most folks burned out and running for their lives, we were broke with only the clothes on our backs. I took the job of delivering the ladies to this new house. We were also starving. I paid for her room, food and some decent clothes with an advance. There was no other way. Had you not shown up today, I'd have been on my way back to get her."

"Where did you leave her?"

"In a place back in the swamp. You'd never find her on your own and I can't give those people away. They help everyone fleeing from the fighting, rich or poor."

"I see... I hope she'll be alright."

"I believe our friend will take extra good care of here. He seemed smitten with her." Jamie smiled.

"But she's only a child!"

"She has grown into a very capable lady."

The two talked long into the night as Jamie related their life after Mills had left to fight.

The next morning, Captain Mills left on patrol and Jamie prepared to return to Sheldon Ross. He hated the thought of facing the long trek, but still, he had to go back. He packed food and two changes of clothes. A heavy wool-lined jacket given to him by Mr. Porter would help ward off some of the cold. Taking the journey with him, Clyde gave him some fur-lined moccasins and mittens Bessie had given him.

Lacy stood back as everyone said their goodbyes.

"Please take care," she said as she walked him to the door.

"I'll come back." Jamie folded something in her hand as he shook it.

Lacy clutched it in both hands as he walked away. It felt odd, nothing like a letter. Turning away from the door, her eyes misting over, she hurried up the stairs to see what Jamie had given her.

A small pouch lay inside a doe-skin bag. Feeling inside, a gold ring rolled into her hand. The emerald set in leaves of gold glowed in the sunlight.

The small bag, she tucked in her trunk with her wedding gown. But the ring, she wore for all the world to see. At dinner she wore her green satin gown with gold lace trim. On her finger, the ring flashed in the candlelight.

It wasn't until she undid her napkin that anyone saw it. Seated next to her mother, she heard a slight gasp. Turning, she held the ring for her mother's approval.

"He gave it to me today." She glowed.

"But, he never-" Her mother looked at her husband.

"Yes. He asked me last night. And I said he could." Lacy's father smiled.

Lacy's face beamed as she held up her hand for all to see.

# Chapter 16

Oppressive heat lay over the swamp. Kim's dress clung to her like a second skin. Her hair, matted with sweat and ashes, kept coming loose from her netting and falling across her face.

The new barn was going up fast, but she didn't see how in this heat. Sheldon had ordered her to the store to get a bath and cool off.

Twice in the last three days, they had been attacked. At the bend, Sheldon had placed a rope that stopped all boats until he could ascertain they weren't going to attack. Tales of families being robbed, beaten, and even killed, were slowing down the migration of desperate families fleeing the South.

Somehow, someone had found the trail through the swamps. Several men had volunteered to guard it, which helped some. And trip ropes were set up along the trails.

"If they get a hold of this place, the swamp will be in trouble," Sheldon sighed.

Far down the river, shots rang out and in seconds the barn crew scattered.

"Get in the boat!" Sheldon yelled at Kim.

Grabbing a bag that hung by the door, Kim ran for the pier. In the boat sat Emma and Sheldon's brother, Hank. Kim was still a little shy around Hank. He had one eye covered with a patch and had been scalped a few years ago by a soldier.

Hank sent the boat upriver with mighty strokes and in an instant the store was out of sight. Emma held Kim's hand so tight that she knew they were in real danger. She hunkered down deep in the boat and sat as still as death.

Neither woman talked as Hank sent the boat off into a small stream. Bugs fell into the boat and the heat became more oppressive. Nothing moved in the noonday heat. Kim watched as sweat darkened Hank's buckskins. And still he rowed as if the Devil himself was right behind him.

Even the birds had stopped their chatter and an eerie silence made the hair on Kim's neck rise. Far away, she heard the call of a loon, and jerked. Now, Hank became more aware. She could feel the boat speed up and she huddled deeper to the bottom. Her heart throbbed and pulsed as sweat rolled down her sides.

Where they were going, and why she was so afraid, she couldn't have said. When she thought she was really going to be ill, Hank turned up another waterway. Then he sat up straight and slowed the boat to an easy but steady gait.

Looking less afraid, Emma passed out sandwiches that Kim doubted she could eat but found delicious. Dark fell and the night, now alive with sounds, felt like heaven. Cool air blew along the waterway. The moonlight turned the water into a ribbon of glittering silver. The water moved swifter and Kim soon realized they were on a deep river.

Lights began to appear here and there, far away from the banks. Settling back, she must have nodded off, because she jumped when he shook her. There, on the bank, sat a man on horseback, holding the reins of three mares.

Hank stood with his fingers to his lips, signaling silence. Nodding, she let him lead them to the horses.

"Can you ride?"

Kim just nodded, still groggy from the trip. She was silent as Hank lifted her up onto the mare. She had hardly gotten astride when the man took off and they followed. Kim loved riding and was as at home in the saddle as on the ground. She wondered how the man had known just where and when to pick them up.

The country changed as the day wore on. They rode through deep forests and the weather was much cooler. At noon, the man stopped in a thicket and cooked their first meal. The meat tasted like heaven but the bread was hard and tasteless.

With time to think, Kim wondered how Sheldon was.

"Mr. Ross will be fine," Emma said with all the confidence in the world.

Surprised, Kim smiled. "Are you a mind reader?"

"Something like that. Best we get moving." She acted as if she knew something the others didn't.

Without question, Hank cleared up all signs of their occupancy and, mounting up, they moved off deeper into the woods. Everyone but Kim seemed to know where they were going. She would have asked, but Emma shushed her before a word was spoken.

The hours dragged by and Kim could feel the horse beneath her tiring. The mare had stumbled several times for no apparent reason. Her bottom was sore from the months of not riding. More like years, really.

Hank road up beside her, making her jump as he spoke. "You'll ride with Emma for a while, your horse needs a rest and hers is the strongest."

Kim could feel the tension in the other woman. Leaning against Emma's back, she hung on tightly. Emma soon relaxed and Kim started to doze off.

On the fourth day they arrived on the outskirts of Arlington Virginia. Kim's dress was in tattered rags and all four smelled of horse sweat. In the early morning hours, they entered the Freedman's Village. Laid out on the grounds of the former estates of General Lee, it was a vibrant community of freed slaves working to build new lives.

"You'll be expected to work, but you'll be safe here with some of our families," Emma reassured her.

Kim spent the cold winter days helping however she could at Abbott Hospital, cleaning and bandaging wounds. Hank had returned several times to check on them, and always brought back letters from Sheldon. These she read over and over.

The store was more unsafe than ever. The new barn was done and the store was full of men he paid to keep it safe. He had a new cook, but he missed Emma's food and Kim's smile. It was always signed _Forever yours, Sheldon Ross_.

Captain Mills watched from the side hill. He had given Jamie a letter for Kim. He hoped she would get it. So many carriers were being captured and tortured that a letter to the South was as good as a death warrant. It had taken the Captain hours to think how to write it to make sure it would not bring trouble to the boy.

If Jamie was killed because of it, his father would surely hunt him down, even if it took his last breath to do so. Captain Mills prayed as Jamie's boat shot down the river, carried by the swift flood waters.

Turning, he shrugged deeper into his tunic. The winds were turning Northwest, bringing another ice blast of winter that would soon freeze the land and river solid. He wondered how people could live this way. There had been times it snowed back home in Virginia but this was a different kind of cold.

Here, the cold seemed to soak into a body and freeze even a man's bones. He couldn't remember the last time he had been able to feel his toes. Most of the men had gone back to wearing their fur-lined coats if they were able to afford it. If they had to fight, it would be with great difficulty.

He was glad all they had to do was patrol the river. Even though this seemed to be the coldest place on Earth. The wind never seemed to let up.

At the first stop on their travels, Jamie was excited to see a cabin which meant rest, but not nearly as excited as Clyde was to step onto Bessie's porch. They slept the deep sleep that warmth and safety brought after days of rough weather.

Bessie rocked in front of the fire. Outside, snow covered everything, giving it a clean smooth look. A pair of leather gloves given to her by Clyde lay in her lap. The rabbit fur felt soft as a kitten as she brushed it with her fingers.

The clock struck ten and still the two men slept. They must have been about worn out. This war had taken away so many loved ones. Bessie wondered how many people would say it was worth it?

She knew Clyde would be leaving soon. She also knew that she could never go back to the South. She had been here for six years and she relished her freedom. She missed the warm weather there, but here, she was left alone. Bessie knew she could eat, sleep and sing any time she wanted to. She was a freed slave. She had her papers and this land was hers forever.

Clyde lay awake. He heard the clock strike ten but still he lay among the warm covers of Bessie's feather bed. He wriggled his toes deep in the feather tick. When he rose, it would be time to move on. He wished he had never let Kim's father talk him into going back with Jamie.

"I've got a gal waiting for me just down the river," he tried to explain to Captain Mills. "She's been waiting for me an awful long time and we aren't getting any younger. She's got problems with trespassers and I don't want to keep leaving her alone."

He had hoped the Captain would understand.

"If you'll go with Jamie, I'll buy you a good mule and wagon and fifty dollars to boot." The Captain had bargained, then he begged. "She's all I have left! I even have a boat for you if you'll go."

Clyde had seen the desperation in the man's eyes. He knew the Captain was helping fight for everyone's freedom. And that made it worse.

"I'll give you both a letter of passage," the Captain had told him. And he had. The boat was a good one and there were provisions for a long trip. He and Jamie had been on their way the next morning. Now Clyde wished he could just lay here safe and warm in Bessie's bed.

Jamie rolled over on the cot. He would love to spend a week resting here with nothing to do but eat and sleep. Still, if they got going, then they would be back that much sooner. He could still see Lacy as the sun caught the flash of his mother's wedding ring through the window as she waved him off. He felt a warm, gentle wave wash over him at the thought.

Bessie had heard the men stirring and put bacon to fry. The coffee sent waves of hunger through Jamie, and rising out of necessity, he hurried down the ladder. "

Morning."

"I thought maybe you two had expired." She chuckled.

As Jamie closed the door, Bessie slid under the covers for a cuddle with Clyde and almost burned the bacon. When she came out, Jamie sat near the door, looking pale.

"What? Did you see something?" she asked.

"Snake in the outhouse." Jamie's voice shook.

"In this weather?"

"Two legged variety?" Clyde asked from the doorway.

"T'was," Jamie said. "He made a grab and I had no choice. I really didn't!"

"We'll take care of it." Motioning Clyde to follow, Bessie made for the door.

"That poor boy's never gonna be the same after this war ends."

Clyde sighed.

"None of us are."

Returning inside with a strange look on her face, Bessie handed Jamie a cup. The concoction burned and brought tears to his eyes. It was worse than corn liquor straight from the still. Pa could sure take lessons from Bessie.

Clyde came in as Jamie was coughing and choking.

"Where did you learn to snap a man's neck?" he asked, looking at Jamie in a new light.

"Military friend of Pa's."

Bessie went about frying eggs and bacon, but her face remained sad and solemn.

"Damn white trash." Bessie slammed a cupboard drawer. "He was one of them that set fire to Miss Ellie's house. Ain't gonna be burning anymore babies."

Hatred made her face look ugly and fierce. Drying her eyes, she looked at Clyde.

"Best you two get going. Will be nightfall before you get to Mr. Gentry's house."

Jamie could see her hands shaking. He wondered what had happened out in the outhouse. Nodding, Clyde donned his coat. Picking up the package Bessie had brought in from the shed, he gave her a strange look and walked out the door.

Clyde carried the bag, holding it away from him. Jamie wondered why, but didn't dare ask. In the boat, Clyde pushed the package far back under the seat.

The sun dipped below the horizon just as they reached the Gentry place. It too, stood high above the river.

Clyde broke the silence. "This is the place. He'll be waiting for us."

"How did he know we were coming on such short notice?"

"There's a lotta talking out here on the river. Folks look out for one another."

Jamie lifted his bags to his shoulders and they climbed the stairs that led to the dock. He was surprised to see the dock had weathered the river's rage during the last storm. Not many had.

Mr. Gentry met them at the dock.

"Bessie sent word you'd be here about dark."

"This is something from Bessie," Clyde said as he handed the special bag to Mr. Gentry. "Best you not open it here. Bessie said you've been waiting a long time for this."

Mr Gentry took the package and went still, turning pale.

"Yes," was all he said as he led the way to the house. "Please sit and just let me put this away."

Clyde stood, head bowed as Jamie looked on curiously. When he returned, Mr. Gentry looked ill.

"Where?" he asked Clyde.

"Back at Bessie's place. Tried to get Jamie. Kid had no choice."

"I see." Gentry nodded. "Cook will have dinner in awhile. I think this calls for a drink by the way."

Jamie, feeling queasy, accepted the drink. He now knew for certain what had been in the package. Bessie had her revenge and had shared it with Mr. Gentry.

Clyde headed to the back of the house to visit friends while Jamie sat quietly while Mr. Gentry explained.

"That man came in the night. He, and about twenty others. They killed some of my household staff and then went after my family." He shuddered and paused for a minute. "They done some awful things. Tied me up and made me watch. That man hung my wife and daughter then set fire to my house."

He bent his head and shook himself as if to rid himself of the memory.

"They left me tied to the staircase, so weak, I couldn't get free. Bessie was my Ellie's maid. Bessie found me and cut me loose. She got cut up real bad, but she risked her life to save me." When he looked at Jamie, his eyes were red and haunted. "You'll never know how awful it was to see what they did. I can't get it out of my mind. I've lived for the moment I could torture him to death. It had haunted my days and nights. Now..." He gasped harshly. "...it's over."

"Yes, I do know," Jamie said. "They killed my Ma and our hired man. I was out hunting or I'd be dead too. Pa was off to war." Jamie related what he'd found when he came home. "They're a real bad bunch, but we've been picking them off a little at a time."

Mr Gentry had pulled himself together. He and Jamie talked until Clyde came back in to say goodnight.

The morning sun was pale and without heat as the boat sped down the river, leaving the sadness of the Gentry house behind. Clyde and Jamie sat wrapped in heavy coats, fur caps and mittens.

Just before dusk, Clyde steered the boat into a smaller stream. Jamie looked but didn't ask where they were going.

"Its a shortcut," Clyde finally said. "Best keep an eye on the banks."

Three days later, Clyde eased the boat up another creek. "We're gonna rest up here a ways. From here on, we'll travel at night. There's too much traffic on the river and we best be careful."

Jamie agreed. There were a lot of boats down this way. He had no idea where he was or how to get back to Ross's place, but Clyde knew the way by heart. All Jamie knew was _go South_.

The shack was so covered with vines, Jamie almost didn't see it.

"She's still standing."

Inside was all clean, the small pot-bellied stove still warm.

"Someone must have stayed here last night and left this morning."

Clyde brought the supplies in while Jamie built a fire. Clyde cooked their meal while Jamie repacked the bags so they could be prepared to leave in a hurry. They decided to rest an extra day. They traveled for two weeks and Jamie was lost most of the way. He spent his time trying to pick out landmarks.They passed several towns in the early hours when the world was sound asleep. Clyde knew all the safe houses and Jamie met many new people along the way.

As the weather became warmer, the dangers increased. One night, they were forced to swing up a creek and sit in the brush while a boat full of munitions boxes drifted by.

Jamie watched as Clyde sent the boat skimming along a waterway that was neither river nor swamp. He wanted to take off his coat, but the bugs would eat him alive. He had bumps and welts all over his exposed skin and some that wasn't.

"Mr. Ross is right around the next bend. Something's wrong though," Clyde whispered, steering the boat into the bank and hoping out.

Surprised and still groggy, Jamie just sat for a second.

"Best be going. There's something not right up ahead."

Jamie struggled up on dry land. Clyde motioned for Jamie to stay down as he led the way through the swamps. As they neared Ross's store, they could smell smoke. It wasn't fresh, but like wet ashes.

"Is the store still there?" Jamie asked, unable to see from where he crouched?

"Doesn't look like it's been touched."

"About time you got back here," a voice said in back of Clyde and was cut off by a smack as flesh hit flesh.

Jamie gasped and rolled aside as Big Jim hit the ground just where he had been sitting.

"Lord have mercy! Didn't know it was you." Clyde laughed, bending over the big man helping him up.

"What in hell's been going on?" Jamie asked.

"Someone's been burning and killing since you left," Jim said, rubbing his chin, still sore where Clyde had hit him.

"Where's Mr. Ross and Kim?"

"He's at the house, but Hank took Miss Kim and Emma up to stay with family in the Freedman's village in Arlington. She'll be safe there. Emma will see to that."

The three sat for several minutes while Jim filled them in.

"Best we get down to the store. Mr. Ross will be waiting."

The place looked like a big battle had taken place. Only four of the eight houses were still standing. Both barns had been burned and, although a new skeleton stood, they could see it had been there awhile, unfinished.

Heaps of burned hay and a couple torched wagons littered the grounds. Trash was high along the waterway as though there had been a flood. No one was outside visiting and all was quiet and eerie.

Going up the steps, Jamie saw great bullet holes in the sides of walls and the door. Inside, the store was almost empty. Sheldon Ross sat in a chair by the stove. When they walked in, he let the chair hit the floor with a thud.

"How in hell did you get back here?"

"Just came in by boat." Clyde said as though it had been nothing.

"Got us a rat. And one that knows us well," Clyde said.

"Only one that's around here all the time is Luke," Bottie said. "He's always around when troubles going on. Hear he's been hanging around with that Emery boy too. Bunch of no gooduns if you ask me."

Jamie looked from Ross to Bottie. He had heard her and Emma saying that they didn't like Luke. He wondered what he did for a living, since Ross had said Luke's bill was always paid. And Bottie was right. Luke had always been the first on the scene when the trouble started.

"It ain't Luke," Ross said. "That man would give his life for us. Hasn't he been here with his boys, helping us each time?"

But Bottie's insistence made Ross wonder. He began to go over every detail and there was room for doubt. Bottie watched the thoughtful look on Ross's face.

"Maybe now you will see what I see, I just wish Emma was here. She'd know what to do."

# Chapter 17

Emma was back. She had sat, day after day, with visions of fire and fighting at the store. One morning, when she could take the worry no longer, she ran to Hank.

"I've got to go home. We're done hiding."

Hank packed the horses in twenty minutes.

Kim trembled as she mounted.

"Can she really tell for sure Sheldon is in trouble?" she had asked Hank, worried.

"I never question her visions."

Kim wanted to tear off along the path they had rode in on, but knew it would do no good. There were things out there that wanted to kill you for no reason. She just followed as the horses trotted along much faster than when they had arrived.

Here, the trail was much straighter than she remembered. They reached the boats before dark. Dark fell and still they rowed on. It was almost dawn when they came upon the store. Kim realized they must have taken a lot of detours on their original escape to prevent detection.

From the far bank, Hank screeched like an owl. Almost instantly a candle lit the front window. The door opened and someone hooted. Then a loon took up the challenge. Hank, Emma and Kim stood alone on the bank.

Kim almost fainted when Big Jim appeared out of nowhere.

"Best be quiet. Mr. Ross expects unwanted company will be coming soon."

"That bad?"

"Worse. Just wait till morning," Jim whispered, dragging the boat into a swampy thicket. They slogged through weeds and brush as they made their way to the back door, where Sheldon met them.

Sheldon swept Kim into his arms and she could have sworn he was crying. He just held her like he should have never let her go.

"It's alright. I'm here now." She ran her hands over his face and hair. He just stood there, trembling. And kissing her, sending shock after shock of lightning through her whole body.

His tired body drew on her strength. He needed to hold her, feel her pressed to him. He could die with the feeling of her against him. The smell of her wrapped around him, making him forget all the troubles and fears of the last two months. Long sleepless nights, he'd feared for her life, his imagination making him leave his bed in a state of terror and guilt.

But she was here now, her hand cool on his face. Her kisses as tender as he had imagined. Had they been alone, he would have taken her then and there in a wild storm of love.

Emma's voice brought them back to earth.

"I've got to talk to you. Now!" she said urgently.

"Let me get Kimmy in a safe room, first." Taking Kim's hand, he led the way through the hall.

"Make it quick! There's bad trouble coming real soon!"

"Won't be anything new."

"This one's worse," she said, all out of patience. "They're stirring up a fuss, and obsessed. I see militia men and they're coming after you."

"Who told you?"

"I saw it!" she said, tapping her head. "I saw you laying on the ground dead-like."

Sheldon went white. He knew not to question Emma's foresight.

"When?"

"I see Mrs. Crane in her Sunday dress. I see Luke there, too, but it's all mixed up. He was grinning like it was all fun. There's another man, even more dangerous, but I can't see his face and that worries me."

"We've got two days, then," he said. "Luke said he was coming in for some supplies on Sunday after church. I'll be, that two-faced lout. We best get ready for him."

The wait over the impending days proved torturous but their men had eyes on Luke half a day's ride away.

Emma turned the griddle cakes absently. The bacon smelled good and the aroma of coffee set everyone's mouth watering. Sun shone dimly through the mist, heralding another hot day. The door, open to ease the heat from the stove, let in little to no air. With everything done, she motioned everyone to come eat.

Sheldon eased his tired body into a chair. The night had been long and the day stretched out longer before him. If he could only sleep for ten minutes, he'd feel better. He had seen Hank go out the door and then felt an uneasy knot in his stomach.

Across the water, a shot rang out, followed by two more that shattered the morning stillness, sending birds and a flock of geese whirling off the water in mad confusion. Hank, jumping for the door, was stopped in midair. Something flung him against the house, then let him fall to the ground just short of the door. From far away, a scream drifted across his mind and his vision went black. Something was tearing at his side.

Everyone scattered, steam still hung above the uneaten food. Scanning the brush, Sheldon thought he saw movement but he couldn't catch it again. But someone _was_ there.

Outside, Clyde scooped up the limp body of Hank and shot through the door. Sheldon, still groggy from lack of sleep, whipped up his gun and almost shot Clyde in the confusion.

"Best you get some sleep," Clyde said.

Hank lay limp and still as Clyde cut his shirt off. Emma worked to clean the wound.

"He's gonna need that bullet removed!"

"I know just the person for that," Jamie said as he went to retrieve Kim.

Grabbing her bag, Kim went to work mixing herbs in a cup. She gave Emma a variety of instruments to boil in a pot.

"Ma always said it helps keep down infection."

"We've got to get the table cleared." Clyde motioned to Jim who stood keeping watch near the front window. Emma spread a sheet over the table as Clyde and Jim lifted Hank up with a low groan.

Bottie scooted in the back door.

"They're putting snakes in the outhouses," she said, pale as death. Just as she entered, Kim flipped the bullet out onto the table and Hank screamed. It took all of them to hold him down.

Giving the men a look of warning, Kim took the red hot poker and cauterized the wound. As quick as a cat, she sealed the wound and then jerked back as the table exploded. Hank still groggy, screamed and flailed. His side was a searing pain that set every nerve in his body on end. Then he fainted.

Bottie fainted seconds after. Everyone looked at the snake still clinging to her skirt. Too mad to care, Clyde stomped the snake like a bug. When he was finished, the snake lay flat and mashed, its fangs still caught in Bottie's skirt.

Jim pried it loose and tossed it into the brush where it sent up a scream from one of their sentries who had been hiding. All at once, the tension was released as Big Jim roared into laughter.

Kim inspected Bottie but found no puncture. "Must have just caught in her skirt, she'll be fine."

After putting Hank in a bed, Clyde and Jim eased their way outside to inspect where the shots had come from. Sheldon laid down for a quick rest in the hopes that it would ease his exhaustion.

Kim and Emma sat at the table sipping coffee while they kept an eye on Bottie. The air hung heavy in the room, making both women wipe away heavy rivulets of perspiration.

The nap wasn't nearly long enough. Rising, Sheldon was stopped by a groan from the far side of the room where Hank lay.

"You're gonna make it friend, I'll send Kim in with some water. It's gonna be okay."

More voices coming from the main room drew Sheldon into the hot stuffy room. Emma was telling Clyde to bring in some wood if it was safe because a storm was coming in soon.

"The storm will be here before nightfall. Those tree leaves are all turning upside down."

Jim came in the house with a sick look on his face. "This makes no sense. I just got word that Luke has already been dealt with."

"Then who put the snakes in the outhouse and shot Hank?" Bottie demanded. All heads turned to look at her face now filled with anger more than fear. "Emma's been saying there's another that's sneaking and helping him around here."

Emma gave Sheldon an _I told you so_ look. "Best we don't discuss things in front of anyone but us from now on."

"Did they take care of Luke's body?"

"Made sure it was left where nature would do the job," Jim said.

The back door thudded open, blowing dust in with the storm on its way as one of Jim's men came in to whisper something to him quickly and then left.

Kim checked on Hank's wounds. "Thankfully, there's no fever."

A knot formed in Sheldon's stomach. He wanted to hold her but felt that now was not the time.

"I'll leave you to check his wounds." The first waves of jealousy he'd ever felt washed over him.

Going into the front room, Sheldon beckoned for Jim and Clyde to follow him.

"Must be someone else knows there's a storm coming in," he said. "My man said they had gotten several of Luke's gang and chased them back into the swamp. He said most of them were strangers. When Luke was killed the rest left in their boats."

"Then who's leaving snakes in the outhouse?" Clyde asked.

"No time for that with the storm coming in."

Outside, Sheldon looked around. "Probably won't be no more barn come morning if it's too big a storm. The rafters aren't fastened well enough. No help for that or the lumber. It will be swallowed up by the swamp."

They prepared for the storm by picking up barrels and boxes that lay waiting to be placed in the new barn that was meant to be their home. The sky seemed to be falling on them. The air was heavy, and the wind whipped leaves and branches from the trees, while the river had risen to cover the dock.

Fighting to stand now with everything battened down, they headed for the house. Jamie had seen storms but this wind was something else. Where he lived, the mountains had slowed the storm down. Not the rain, but the winds, at least.

Emma pulled all the shutters tight. One window, shot out this morning, was covered with boards and a mattress placed against it helped stop the wind. Kim had pulled all the dishes off the shelves and covered the dried food with oilcloth.

The wind was driving against the outside walls. Tree limbs smashed against the walls and rain sounded like a million little pebbles being driven at them. The table had been placed against an inside wall. Kim looked at it doubtfully. The huge beams from above would crush it if they fell.

Food had been placed in the inner room for safe keeping. Now she paused to check on Hank and give him some broth. Still dazed from the drugs, Hank saw her through a haze. He grasped her hand in an iron grip.

"Sheldon?" he asked in a slurred voice.

Wiping Hanks face with a cool cloth, she tried to ease him back down on the bed.

"Everyone's fine. There's a big storm out there and Emma says it's going to be a real bad one so you need to rest here till it's over."

Slowly, Hank let his hand slide onto the covers and eased back. From the doorway, Sheldon watched the exchange but couldn't hear above the wind. His face twisted when Hank held Kim's hand and he was sick with jealousy when she knelt to wipe his forehead. He wanted to shout at the two and beat Hank to death. What was this feeling?

Kim picked up the cloth and turned to see Sheldon, a raging look across his face.

"Your brother wants to talk to you." Stepping aside, she was still confused by the look Sheldon had given them.

Sheldon stood over the man he had always loved and admired but, right now, he wanted to beat the already misshapen face into the mud. Had she fallen for him on their travel to safety months past?

Hank laughed at the look on Sheldon's face.

"She's a fine lady worth keeping, but before you punch me in the face I already have a woman and I don't need yours."

Feeling chastised, Sheldon sank into the chair Kim had just vacated.

"It's hard being this much in love. I've never felt like this before." He sighed, shaking his head as if to clear away the demons that had invaded it.

"When you marrying her? I've seen her eyes when she looks at you."

Relief washed across Sheldon's face but now he wondered if she would ever speak to him again after the cold shoulder he had given her.

The wind screamed and tore at the house. Several places were leaking as the shakes had been torn away. In the back, a shutter squealed and banged, torn loose by the gale. Jim and Clyde worked to try and secure it.

"Be some wonder if this place is here come morning!" Clyde yelled above the howling wind.

"It better be!"

Unnerved by the her exchange with Sheldon, Kim jumped everytime the wind slammed something against the house. Her insides were tightened into hard knots.

Emma watched the emotions flit across Kim's face. She wondered what had caused it. Taking a kettle from the oven, still warm from cooking earlier, she poured a cup of tea for Kim.

"This will settle your nerves, dear. What did that idiot Sheldon do to make you look like that?"

"I think he was jealous of Hank but honestly I was just taking care of his wounds. He was so good to us when we had to flee and I had to make sure the wound was staying closed. I owe him that much."

"You needn't worry child. Hank will set the fool straight."

As the storm gained strength, the pace of Emma's rocking chair increased. The candle on the table jerked and threatened to go out. The pressure in the room made breathing almost impossible. At last, Emma stopped rocking and turned to Kim.

"Get under the table and cover up."

Carrying two heavy quilts, Emma shoved Kim under the table. The two sat there as windows shattered and the wind whipped through howling like a banshee. Kim tried to talk but found it impossible to hear even herself. Shaking, she held Emma's hand and discovered they were cold as ice.

Somewhere, she heard a ripping sound that jarred the whole house. Still, she huddled with Emma. For hours the storm raged.

But the house still stood.

# Chapter 18

Captain Taylor walked back and forth. The sky had been clear blue when the scouting troop had left hours ago. Now ugly clouds hung along the horizon. The air was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. The tents in the field hung limp and looked damp. Hurricane weather. He shuddered.

"Can't think what's keeping the troops," he said as he paced.

Harvey, the cook, shoved loaves of bread into the oven. "Bread won't even rise right! First time I've ever seen such small loaves."

"Humidity," the Captain said. "Cakes go flat too."

"Ain't never been in such a place."

"Wait till the storm hits. You'll think you're in hell. We'd best get prepared to get to the cellar." Turning, the Captain went out into the field.

Packing his gear into bags, the cook's ashen face ran with sweat. "Be glad when this damned war is over."

"Be a while yet," Jaimeson McGlenn said. The smell of bread wafted through the rooms, making them almost cheerful. "Funny how the smell of bread can make a place feel like home."

While Jaimeson watched, the Cook trudged toward the cellar with the supplies. He wished he could help, but he was still hobbling around on a crutch the boy had shaped for him.

Across the road, he could see the Captain and the men. They were taking down the tents. As they took down and rolled them up, others were hauling them to the cellar. The smell of bread brought Jaimeson back to Earth. He opened the oven and turned the loaves.

The boy rose from the corner.

"I'll help take the pans," he told Cook. He hoisted the wooden box and followed Cook to the cellar.

Jaimeson grinned. The boy, as he was called by all, seemed to fit right in. And hadn't tried to run away since he had been caught. Maybe he liked a full stomach and a warm place to sleep. He followed Cook around like a little shadow.

The cook paid him with little extras and started teaching him about cooking. At meal time, the boy worked alongside the cook and always seemed to make Cook chuckle.

Jaimeson noticed it getting darker. The tree leaves swayed and a breeze drifted through the house. Across the road, the Captain hurried, shouting instructions as the last row of tents came down. He saw the horses being led off toward the river to the lower entrance of the cellar.

Cook came in and withdrew the loaves of bread. Setting them in the window to cool, he and the boy carried three huge kettles of food down the cellar steps. Tonight, they would be below ground and, hopefully, safe.

The meadow across the road was bare. Jaimeson felt alone for the first time in months as he rested in the breeze that was fast growing stronger.

Riders appeared down the road. He knew they weren't the missing troops. Taking his stick, he eased out the back door and into the milk house. Stopping to drink, he eased open the hidden door.

Recognition hit him! These were the same men that had come after the fighting had taken place here. He eased through the door and hobbled as fast as he could to the main cellar, hoping none of the men were left above.

Grabbing the first soldier he could find he yelled, "There's Reb's above!"

The soldier turned white and ran up the steps. Ahead he could make out the Captain. The man talked and pointed upward. Silence descended as if every voice had been frozen. The man pointed at Jaimeson and the Captain hurried toward him.

"I've barred this door but we've got to shut the others."

Nodding, the Captain ran to a bunch of men stacking tents in a nearby room. In seconds, they disappeared to begin barring the doors. Even the horses seemed to know there was a need for silence.

The boy came to stand by Jaimeson, his face tight in the lantern light. "Do you think they know about the cellars?"

"No they don't. They were here and killed the folks in that grave beside the house. I recognized one of them."

"They ain't real Rebs," the boy said. "There just a bunch of no-goods that's been robbing and killing folks."

"Best we tell the Captain then."

As Jaimeson and the boy told their story, the Captain motioned a dozen men over. Telling them his instructions, he led them up to the milk house.

Seven horses were tied in front of the house. Easing into the room, they made their way toward the back door. The Captain led six men to the front where he could hear the men inside talking.

"This place ain't gonna go nowhere in the storm. Best place for us to stay."

"Be better in that outer cellar!"

"It ain't nothing but a small room. It'll fill right up with water first thing."

From the back, the Captain heard a shot and then it was bedlam. Three men bolted out the front door, guns ready, heading for their horses. They never got off a shot. Captain Taylor took down the first as he reached his horse.

Inside, shots rang out. Then all was quiet. Someone hobbled around the corner and the Captain almost shot Cook. There was a red smear along his leg but it didn't look too bad.

"Get them all?"

"Yes. We did."

Inside, Captain Taylor looked at the men that had killed Aunt Grace.

"Throw them in the river! I wouldn't bury them here even if it meant I'd be court-martialed."

He watched as the bodies were caught in the current and swirled off down the swollen river.

"They won't be murdering any more poor families."

Several men worked to tie tents together at the end of the cellar where it came out on the river. They blocked the wind but flapped, making the horses dance nervously. Above, the wind tore and whipped boards and buildings across the meadow.

The howling made conversation impossible, but the men slept the night through, knowing an attack was unlikely. In the rooms, the noise from above was muted and it was cool enough to finally sleep.

Morning found the storm was down to a steady rain. Cook was back in his kitchen, filling the house with pleasant smells, the boy at his side. The men set to work repairing the buildings as the cow shed had been destroyed, along with the chicken coops. Huge limbs and fallen trees were strewn across the yard and fields.

Plans were made to take some of the lumber from the tobacco shed and build a covered runway from the back door to the old cellar door. Late in the day, the troops that were due back came straggling in. They had spent the night in Lacy's family's cellar. The storm had blown a tree onto one end, making an awful mess of things, but no one had been hurt.

As the days passed, more travelers heading North passed by. They carried stories of horror, of neighbors hung, their homes destroyed and people afraid to go to sleep for fear they would be slaughtered in their beds.

"Been a band of renegades going from place to place," one man told the Captain. "Those buggers seem to slip off into clear air!"

"Foxes always travel the same route and that's what gets them caught sooner or later," the Captain said to Jaimeson.

As they drove off, Jaimeson noticed there were some pretty fancy things in their wagons for the ratty way they were dressed.

"Been on a picking spree," he said, disgusted.

"If they don't, someone else will. It's been pretty rough on the poor down here," the Captain explained sadly. At the clang of the dinner bell, they headed for the house.

Jaimeson helped Cook clean up after they'd eaten.

"My stint's gonna be up come spring. I think I'll be heading back over the mountain. I need to see if I still have a place to go home too."

"Well they say the fighting's way down South now," Cook said. "Me, I'm headed back North. My folks got some property. And the stage road and train tracks run right by the town. I plan on running an inn. Got me some money saved up to get me started."

Back in Albany NY...

In the North, snow drifted from the High Peaks as the Hudson roared. Ice cracked and built up in heaps as high as small mountains. All night the crackling of ice awoke the war-weary families. It was like a million cannons going off, Lindy complained to Lacy.

"Pretty soon it'll be the horns of the boats passing by. There will be a lot of that I'm afraid." Grace sighed, watching the flow of ice chunks, jumping as several collided sending sharp cracking sounds that rattled the windows.

The bitter cold had eased, but the water lay cold in pools. The ground, still frozen, lay covered in ice and snow. Food stores were growing low. If Daisy hadn't preserved so much prior to their arrival, they would have come up short long before.

Grace was glad they had sold their home. It gave them money to buy some livestock and horses from those who were glad for the money.

"Bet it's a lot warmer back home right now," said Daniel, Lacy's father, his feet on a stool in front of the roaring fire. "I'd love to feel it on my back again."

A thump made them all jump as a clump of snow slid off the upper roof onto the porch roof.

"Wonder when it starts to warm up here?" Grace said.

"You know," Lindy broke in. "That Captain Mills didn't stop by this week."

"Maybe he got transferred." Grace watched the worried look that crossed Lindy's face. The Captain had become a regular guest and it had struck her as strange he hadn't come.

"He'll let us know, because of Kim," her father soothed. Ted liked the man. He was older than Lindy but Ted had seen the way way the wind was blowing from the start. Lindy was smitten and Captain Mills was a lonely widower. The Captain also seemed to help moderate Lindy's temperament.

As Daisy called them to lunch, a rap was heard at the door. Lindy jumped and would have answered but Grace put her hand on her arm.

"Best let your father answer that just in case."

From below, they could hear voices, then a scraping noise.

"Just take him up to the room on the right," her father instructed from below. "Daisy please lay a fire and then get the soapstone from my room."

Lindy and Lacy rushed into the room they now shared.

"What do you suppose is going on?" Lindy asked.

"We'll know soon enough." Lacy took Lindy's cold shaking hands.

In the hall, Grace gave orders left and right.

"How did this happen? I thought the fighting was clear down in Georgia."

"Renegade bunch heading for the border," someone answered. "He said to bring him here. He's in pretty bad shape and there isn't anyone else to take care of him, Ma'am."

"You were right to bring him here. We'll take care of him. I'll write a letter to your commander."

All at once, Lacy knew who the wounded man was. She glanced at Lindy and saw the white-faced, tight-lipped woman was about to faint. The past weeks with the Captain had brought back the kind Lindy she had known as a child. She feared how Lindy would handle such a crushing blow if he were to die.

Lindy's heart felt as though it were being ripped apart. Her fear for the man was almost beyond her. She wanted to rush to him. The waiting was agony.

Lacy jumped when Grace opened the door. One look at Lindy just about broke Grace's heart.

"He's bad. You can go in once he's settled in bed. He'll need all the help he can healing."

"Where's Kim when we need her?" Lacy said, handing Lindy her hankie.

At the door, they saw how bad it was. The floor was covered with bloody clothes and rags. Grace wiped blood from a head wound as she beckoned them inside.

"Daisy, we'll need more linens please. Lacy, dear, grab the other rag. We have to get the bleeding stopped so Lindy can stitch these cuts up.

Lindy left the room, about to be sick. Going to her room, she found the sewing box and returned. Taking a fine silk thread from her box she threaded the needle with trembling hands, in a daze.

She hardly recognized the man lying covered with blood on the white linen sheets. As Lacy cleaned a slice in the man's scalp, Lindy cut the hair and started to make neat little stitches. The three women worked until Daisy had to bring candles. All throughout the ordeal, he spoke Lindy's name time and again.

"Kim says head wounds are the worst bleeders. I saw her patch up a man at Sheldon's store."

Grace just stared at them. A knot tightened in her stomach, realizing what the girls had really been through.

Downstairs they heard a commotion and then footsteps on the stairs. The door opened and Lindy's father scanned the room in disapproval.

"This is Doc Milton," he introduced a short balding man with tiny glasses resting on his round nose.

"Well, we meet again, Miss Grace." His face lit with a smile, warm and welcoming.

"Yes." Grace smiled. "But this time is serious I'm afraid."

"I've been doing this a lot of late. Is this your young man?" he asked looking to Lindy.

"Yes," she declared, daring anyone to question her.

Taking Lindy's hand, Grace led the girls to the kitchen. Doc Milton pulled back the cover. A long gash reached from shoulder to waist. A bandage soaked with blood had been hastily wrapped around him. It would be a very long night.

Daniel Porter returned to his study while the doctor worked. The six soldiers sat with bowed heads as they were fitted with fresh bandages.

"We've got to report to the Major," one told him.

"When are you due back?"

"Morning, sir," the spokesman told him.

"Have you been fed yet?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then Mrs. Clinton will show where you can rest. It's going to be awhile before the Doctor is done. I will wake you, if need be."

Tired and sore, they did as told.

In the kitchen, Daisy tried to get Lindy to eat. She picked at her food. Her heart ached and it made eating impossible. She couldn't get the image of the blood out of her mind.

Marion could stand no more. Going to the cupboard, she slipped a dose of laudanum into a cup and fixed Lindy a ginger tea.

"Drink this and then lay your head down and get some rest. It will be a long night.

Lindy awoke to the sun shining in her face. Somewhere, there was a rustling of horses and feet padded along the hall. Groggily, she turned away from the sun and tried to drift back to sleep. The squeak of the door opening roused her again.

Daisy eased open the door, seeing Lindy turn away from the sun. She went to place more logs on the fire and poured hot water into Lindy's pitcher.

"Miss Grace told me to tell you, the Captain had been asking for you."

Lindy gasped as the night before came back in waves of horror. She saw the bloody face and jumped out of bed. Grabbing her robe, she jerked it on as she ran from the room.

At his door, she gulped in great breaths of air and her heart was beating like a trapped bird. Opening the door, she saw him lying as pale as death. His head, covered with bandages that had been freshly changed, turned toward the door.

When her eyes met his, they were filled with love and pain. Too weak to talk, he drank in her beauty.

Going straight to the bed, she knelt there, holding his hand. Great tears ran down her face. There were no words that needed to be said.

At breakfast, Grace told of Lindy and the Captain.

"She's the best medicine he'll get."

The meal finished in silence and everyone was exhausted.

One month later...

The birds came in great flocks. Lindy stood high above the river, watching, trying to count them. She and Lacy had seen the great V-shaped flocks of Canadian Geese high above the earth and knew winter was ebbing.

In the tower room above them, Daisy and Grace were putting the last of the seed pearls on Lindy's gown. It spread around them in piles of snow white satin. Hanging in the closet were miles of tulle held by Grace's diamond tiara. Whenever anyone opened the door it glittered in the sunlight.

Rising Daisy put away her needle and thread with a satisfied smile. "She sure is gonna be the prettiest bride ever."

Grace smilled petting the yards of cloth on a satin hanger. "Just three more days."

"Do you think the Captain will be up and well by that time?" she asked folding the gowns many flounces under a sheet to keep the dust off.

"He gets better every day. If he doesn't get put back on duty too soon he should be fine."

"Miss Lindy will be so sad when he does."

"Yes," Grace agreed. "But she knows he has to go back. We can only pray they don't send him down South."

The Captain lay back among the pillows. His chest burned and the pillows hurt his head where one of the cuts touched it. The doctor had advised him to wait another month before the wedding.

"It might be too much of a strain. You're a pretty sick man and I'd hate to see you tear open one of those wounds."

But the Captain had worried about being put back on active duty before he could marry Lindy. He also hoped it would take some time for him to heal. Maybe the war would be over soon. If he got sent South, Lindy would be devastated. Just thinking of her made him smile. He never imagined he would find someone to love again at his age.

Below, Lindy stared off into space, the same thoughts making her face go from worried to soft and wistful. How could she bear to wait out the three days? If he were sent South to fight, she'd die! She'd just have to take whatever time they had.

Beside her, Lacy's mind was miles away. She envied Lindy. Jamie had said he'd return for her in the Spring. When was the Spring? Had he made it back to Sheldon's place? The ring on her finger sparkled and glowed in the sun. She held it with her hand and prayed he was all right.

She wished she had something to do to pass the long days. It was too muddy and too dangerous to wander away from the house. She had read until her eyes hurt and her head ached. Everyone was on edge, making it impossible to carry on a conversation. Even out here on the porch, she could feel the tension.

A soldier had come by this morning to advise the captain that the major would be coming today to see him. Ever since then, the household had been in a state of havick. The smells coming from the kitchen told of a feast being prepared.

Lindy sat looking off into space every few minutes, as though waiting for a death sentence. Both girls had been sent out for fresh air while Captain Mills' room was aired out and cleaned from top to bottom.

From an upstairs window, Benny kept watch for any sight of the major or anyone that might be coming along. Lacy wished the major would get here and get it over with. The doctor was due any minute and she wasn't sure how much more they could endure. They had come North to be safe! That was a joke. The whole way here, and since, they'd lived in dread. There was no peace, even up here.

Lacy wondered what Lindy would do if they decided to move Captain Mills back to camp. If only Aunt Grace had let the minister marry them last week while he was here. She dreaded what would happen if the major refused to allow him to rest here longer.

Unable to sit any longer, Lacy rose and went upstairs to her room. Going to her closet, Lacy pulled a gown from within. She inspected every seam minutely. She couldn't find a thing that needed mending.

She jumped when the sound of Benny giving the alarm filled the house. Running to the window, she saw a group of soldiers appear. The men looked shabby and out of order.

Behind her, Lindy slammed open the door. "They're here!"

"Quiet!" Lacy ordered. "That bunch doesn't look right. I have to warn everyone. Get out of sight and stay there. I'll let you know if everything is alright."

Benny was about to go down the stairs when he stopped dead in his tracks. One of the men looked like someone he should know. That bugger! He knew where the man had been. Taking the stairs two at a time, he was in the library before he could slow down. He almost ran Ted over.

"There's a passel of renegades coming. Best get ready to fight!"

Grace, standing in the front door, jerked it shut and flipped the lock.

"Get up with the Captain," Ted told her. "Keep the girls with you."

"How many?" he asked Benny, who had gone to the gun cabinet.

"Six that I could see."

"I locked all the doors," Marion said, grabbing two guns from Benny. "We'll keep the Captain as safe as possible."

She hurried up the stairs.

"They'll divide up you know," Daniel said.

"Thought we'd left this mess behind," Ted said.

"No such luck," Benny said.

Daniel could feel the anger emit itself from Benny and cold chills ran up his back.

"Remember the Gentrys? They're part of the same bunch," Benny said, leaving the room with a gun crooked over his arm.

Daniel's mind flew around the house, noting in his mind the many doors that would give entry. A sick feeling washed over him as he realized there were more doors than they could guard. Worst of all, two led into the cellar and were in poor shape.

"Where in hell do you think they will try and get in?"

"I bet they try the front door first," Ted replied. "They're not expecting anyone up here to know them or they'd have waited until night to approach."

A sharp knock on the door made them both jump.

"You gonna answer that door?" Daniel asked.

"Not on your life. Maybe they'll move on." But Ted knew that wasn't about to happen. "When they force that door, we'll be ready. All we can do is hope they stay together. You watch that front door and keep out of sight while Benny covers the kitchen. If you have to fire, fire and move. They only have one way up those cellar stairs and we can both see that door." He leaned an extra gun against the wall behind an overstuffed chair. "Best put that extra gun where you plan to move to. We won't have time to reload it."

"They're getting impatient. I'm sick and tired of being chased. It's about time they were stopped," Daniel said.

A sharp crack told both men the door had been forced open. Daniel saw three men tumble into the room. Buckshot from his gun took all three down. Behind them, the others had crowded so close they took some of the spray.

One man got his gun out before Ted could spray them with his first shot. Daniel saw a blast of plaster hit the floor where he had been standing. He shouldered the second gun to take out the shooter.

Ted, using his gun as a club, flattened one of the men as he reached for his revolver. The other two lay dead. But on the porch, a man hitched his way toward the horses. From above, a rifle roared and he dropped so close, the horse kicked him and jerked his reins free to run off up the road.

In the end, two of the men lay wounded and four dead. Benny came around the corner of the house and before anyone could stop him, shot one of the men in the head.

"That's for Miss Ellie Gentry," he snarled, spitting on the shattered face of the dead man.

From above, the captain and four women watched in disbelief as he shattered the other renegade's hands with his boots. He would never use those hands again if he lived.

"He cut that little child's throat," he said to the two men, his chin jutting out determinedly.

They were getting ready to remove the bodies when they looked up to see a group of soldiers ride into the drive. Dashing inside, they grabbed and loaded their guns.

From the stairway, Lacy called, "It's the major, don't shoot!"

Ted, pale and shaken, set the gun down. All at once, he was exhausted. After all they had done to stay out of this damned war, they kept getting dragged back into it.

A rap on the broken door jam made them turn to see the major standing there, shaking his head.

"Are you folks alright?"

"Sorry about the mess," Ted nodded toward the men still bleeding all over the hall. "But we had some persistent callers. Knew who and what they were. They killed a whole family of our neighbors. There's still a whole passel of them running around."

Stunned, the major stood in the door, speechless. Finally, he gathered himself enough to ask to see Captain Mills. Calling to his troops, he said, "You men get these bodies out of here. I don't want the ladies to see this."

The women had tucked the captain back in bed and Lindy was wiping off his face with a cool cloth as the major was led into the room.

"Well, Mills, I see you are well protected," the major said as the three women rose to leave the room.

Lindy gave the major a baleful look as she placed a kiss on the captain's forehead. Leaving the two alone, the family went down the back stairs.

"So she's the one?" the major asked as he pulled the cover back to inspect the captain's wounds.

"Yes," was all the captain said, giving a groan as the major turned his head to count the slash marks on it.

"You took some beating. Have you been up out of bed yet?"

"No, sir, makes me dizzy and the doctor says it'll be a couple days yet."

"I hear you're getting married in three days. Think you're up to that?"

"It's a poor start, but I can't let her get away."

"I'd say you're one of the lucky ones," the major said. "She sure is lovely. I'll write you up on furlough. We'll see how you are in a month. Congratulations and I'll see you at the wedding."

He grinned as he left the room.

Captain Mills lay back in relief and exhaustion. He had thought the major would move him back to camp immediately. He had been sick with dread. Now, he drifted into a deep healing sleep that lasted until dark.

Downstairs Benny repaired the door while Daisy and Lacy mopped up the blood. The major had left just after dinner, full for the first time in months. At the door, Daniel extended his invitation to the wedding.

"He'll need all the support he can get. She's a headstrong girl. Let's just hope the excitement is over."

# Chapter 19

A box flew across the floor and crashed into the table leg. Pieces flew in all directions, some piercing Kim's leg. She could feel the blood running down and into her boot. She knew some pieces had hit Emma. She had flinched and grunted.

"Are you all right?" she asked Kim. "I've got a nice sliver in my foot."

"Just a scratch," Kim replied, feeling the wind draw her breath away.

"It's almost over, dear."

Outside, something thudded sickly against the house and both knew it was a body. They hoped it wasn't one of theirs.

On the floor under the bed, Hank groaned. The weight of the mattress was making it almost impossible to breath.

"Lay still!" Sheldon said as a board fell from above. The room seemed to be falling apart.

"How the hell do you expect me to breath with you laying on me?"

Raising his head, Sheldon saw that a beam had fallen on the bed and was an added weight to the mattress he had placed over Hank to help protect him. If the mattress hadn't been there, it would have shattered Hank's legs.

"Beam fell on your legs. Stay still and I'll try to move it."

Hank drew a deep breath as Ross moved the beam over but couldn't remove it all the way.

"How's that?"

"Better. Least now I can breathe."

Ross wanted to leave the room and hunt for Kim. He was sick to think what might have happened to her, but the door was blocked with fallen boards and the wind still whipped things around as it tore through the only window.

For what seemed hours, the storm raged. Sheldon shook with fear as he listened to boards rip loose from the house, letting more wind and rain fall on them. When he thought he couldn't stand another second of being cooped up in the dark, it became quiet. The quiet almost hurt his ears. Then the rain came. It fell in buckets and lightning lit the room, flash after flash, as if to deliberately show the storm's destruction. The only place left untouched was where the store's goods had been piled earlier.

From behind the door, he hear pounding.

"Sheldon! Can you hear me?" He almost cried out with relief upon hearing Kim's voice.

"I'm fine, I just have to move some beams," he said.

All at once, the door exploded and Clyde was pushing aside the boards, a lantern beam shone through the dark held by Jamie.

"Where you at? This is some mess." Clyde said.

"Over here, by Hank's bed. There's a beam holding his mattress down."

"I'm fine by the way." Hank groaned. "Just get this damn beam loose and I'll be better."

"Where's Bottie?" Emma asked, worried.

"She's in the back with Jim. He took a hit to his head and was bleeding. But she's fine," Clyde said.

Pulling a splinter from Hank's leg, it started his wound bleeding again. Kim went to work cleaning Hank's wounds while Emma went to check on Big Jim.

Kim went to work piling the broken boards near the door. She couldn't find the broom, so she used the mop to clear away the broken dishes and window glass. She had tied her hair back with a bag string. That's how Ross found her. She was unaware of the blood and mud that covered her.

Ross just watched, letting the sight of her fill him with renewed hope.

Finally seeing him behind her, she ran to his arms and he just held her.

Rain poured down, soaking everything and everyone. The roof seemed to take forever to fix and it was always dark because of the boarded up windows.

One night, Jim and Clyde left without saying a word. They were gone three days. But when they returned, they had new window panes.

"Where did you get those?" Emma asked.

"There's more supplies outside. Their folks won't be needing them anymore," he said.

"Who?" Emma asked.

"The Murrays."

"Poor souls!" she cried.

"Blew the house clean apart. But judging by the bullet holes in some of the surviving walls, I'd say they were killed before the storm by the same group of renegades plaguing us."

Kim watched as Jim and Clyde repaired the windows.

It took a week before anyone emerged from deep in the swamp. When they came, there were two boat loads.

Luke's wife dressed in black, and her whole family with her.

"We're leaving here and going to stay with family down river. I can't raise all these young ones alone."

"We'll be sad to see you go," Kim said. Then lied, "Hasn't Luke been back since the storm?"

"He probably joined that bunch of no-goods that went through last fall," she said, angry. "I ain't having nothing to do with them, no how."

Kim felt guilty after she left. Mrs. Crane looked old and tired out.

"She's a good woman," Clyde explained as the boat slid down river. "But that Luke was a bad one thats for sure. She'll be fine. Mr. Ross gave her money to help her out."

As they worked on the store, more people emerged. Some to buy or trade. And others to leave. The storm had been too much for some. Several had asked about missing members of their family.

Several of the men asked about Luke. Ross lied.

"Last we seen, he was heading across the river. Thought he'd beat the storm home."

"We've lost a lotta men since the storm," one man said.

"Blew the Murray place to smithereens. Almost nothing left of the place."

"Kill the whole family?" he asked, his eyes shifting.

"No. They left a note." Hank grinned, seeing the man jerk around at that. "Said they'd been hurt real bad but they'd be back. Can't scare folks like that for long."

They watched him leave with untrusting eyes. Luke Crane had been working with accomplices. Someone had planted the snake in the outhouse and shot Hank.

"That no-account, Lester White." Emma spit. "He knows something."

"I'd say. Might keep an eye on him," Ross said, going out the door to watch the boat row off in a hurry.

"Think he believed us that the Murray's are still alive?" Hank asked.

"Hard to tell with that one. He's kinda addled in the head. He aint so bad. But that brother of his is a bad egg. He'll pass on the word," Emma said, handing Hank a cup before going back to kneading and slicing dough into loaves.

Exhausted and sore, Hank finished the glass and then headed for bed. He would love to sleep but doubted he could.

Smiling and humming, Emma placed a bottle of laudanum back in her pocket and washed out Hank's cup. Seeing the strange look from Kim. she smiled. "He'll be needing some rest. He's still pretty sick."

As Lester White rowed off up the river, his mind tried to recall the raid on the Murray place. He had joined the secret militia one night while they had been pretty liquored up on shine.

He recalled going on the raid, but not all that had happened. Had they really killed the Murrays? Or had they just shot the place up? He'd ask Emery. He'd know. Emery was the smart one, Pa had always said.

He tried to remember. He could still see old man Murray as he fell across the window sill. But had he been dead? He didn't remember hearing any of the women scream and Emery always made that happen.

But that Hank, he always told the truth. Everyone said. Hank was real smart. He'd been scalped and lived to tell of it. He scared Lester, so Lester tried never to cross him. Even Pa and Emery never dared to cross Hank.

Now, Lester's hands shook as he drew up to the dock. Emery was gonna be mad as hell to find out the Murrays had escaped. Nosing his boat around the boats tied there, he dreaded going up to the house. From the house, the sound of drunken laughter echoed through the windows. He wondered how many of the militia were gathered tonight. He decided to leave the shine alone from now on. He didn't like not remembering things.

On the stoop, April sat, rocking. She watched as Lester made his way slowly up the path.

"Been to the store?"

She loved this easygoing brother. But she knew he had never been quite up to par.

Lester eased down on the steps. "Got Ma a bag of flour. Traded that boar meat for it. Who all's inside?"

"Militia. They're going up river. Said the Crane place was empty and they're moving in. Emery's trying to get Ma to let me cook for them."

"You gonna?" Lester asked with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Not unless they tie me up. But they gotta find me first."

"Why do they need you if that Kelly man's such a good cook?"

"I don't think it's a cook they want. And I'm not having a passel of babies for no man."

"Best you get over to Bessy's place," Lester urged. "I'll tell them you were gone when I got here.

"You're the best." April hugged her brother as she slipped down to his boat and was soon out of sight.

Lester sat rocking until he fell asleep. Emery came out of the house looking for April.

"Pa says you can come cook for the militia." Reaching over he shook Lester awake. "Where's April at?"

"She was right here when I fell asleep. Maybe she went to bed."

Emery stomped off, but soon returned in a fit of rage.

"Where in the hell is she?" he bellowed at Lester.

Lester panicked, jumped up and let fly at Emery who was pretty drunk. His fist hit Emery with a powerful _whack_ that could be heard in the house and flattened Emery out cold as a clam.

Lester heard the pound of feet and cleared the railing. Before the door opened, he was in Pa's boat and had sent it flying off down river. He heard the ruckus far behind him. Tired as he was, he was more scared. He knew if they caught him, he was a dead man. Emery had killed the last man that dared challenge him. The only man on par with Emery had been Luke Crane and he disappeared along with some of the other militia men a few days ago.

Rounding the bend, he saw April rowing along slow as could be. When he called, she jerked around.

"It's me, Lester. You best let me in your boat. I just downed Emery and he is gonna clean my clock. You're in trouble, too. Pa gave Emery the okay."

Letting Pa's boat adrift, he joined April. "They're right behind me. We best get rowing." Lester sent the boat skimming over the water like it had wings. "We better get real lost, real fast."

Lester was silently thankful that Emery didn't own any hounds to track them down. Lester knew if he did, he would let them tear both he and April to shreds and laugh as they did. Emery was not just smart. He was mean as a snake. Emery never killed anything quickly. He tortured his kill until it died.

That had always scared Lester. He recalled the times Emery had stabbed at animals until they bled to death, kicking and screaming. Shuddering, he sent the boat sailing down river, not really having a goal in mind, just putting distance between them and Emery.

"There's six or seven of them militia men. They'll be taking turns rowing. Want me to take over for a spell? We might need your speed later," April said.

Taking over, April let her fear of Emery propel the oars. "Where are we going?"

"Don't know." He had thought of a dozen places but didn't want to turn Emery loose on any of them.

"I know about an old shack down by the Murray place. I used to meet up with Lou there."

"Guess Emery don't know about that place or we'd have waited for Murray there." Lester said.

"You did in the Murrays?!"

"Shush! You don't want Emery to hear us. I was off in the woods keeping watch for any company. I didn't get in close but I saw Old Man Murray hanging out in the window, looking dead like."

"Filthy skunks! That Lou was talking about taking me North with him last week. We had a thing going a few months back. But I told him Pa would never agree to that."

"Did mom or Pa know?"

"No. They'd have told Emery and he already didn't like Mr. Murray."

"Yeah, Pa would have told him for sure. He thinks Emery's real smart."

"Emery? Smart!" April snorted. "He's the only one of us who can't read or count."

"Then how'd he know what was written in all those letters?"

"Every time he got a hold of a letter he'd hand it over to Ma and she'd read it to him," April said not believing Lester hadn't caught on by now. But then, Lester or Pa was never around when Ma read to Emery.

Lester was filled with a strange joy. Emery couldn't read! And what's more, he couldn't even count!

"I'll be! And they called me dumb."

Taking the oars back, Lester pulled with twice the strength. They hadn't heard anything of the militia since they left the dock. The Murray place came into view, a heap of torn boards and parts of wall stood lonely and stark in the moonlight.

"I guess what Emery didn't do, the storm finished," April said quietly. "Damn shame, I sure did like Lou a lot. The shack is just around the next bend and up the creek."

Lester turned the boat up the creek. Trees hung over it, half blown down. He hoped they hadn't left any signs of their passing. Emery was a good tracker.

"Don't let them limbs snag on your clothes," he told April. "That Emery will see the broken limbs a mile away."

"That Emery can't even hardly see," April assured Lester. "Think about it. It's you that sees those things. How do you think he knows they're there? He ain't never seen nothin'. He just claims he did."

Lester looked at April, wondering if she was right. He would have rowed past the shack if April hadn't stopped him.

"Just row right up that marshy patch. There's water on the other side. It just looks like ground."

When they arrived at the cabin, April look concerned. "Someone's been here lately. The stove's still warm."

Lester whipped his gun up as the door swung open.

"Lou!" April cried.

Lou Murray stood swaying in the door. His face was raw and skin hung loose along his jawline. Lester swore as Lou fell to the floor at their feet and they quickly carried him to the bed.

In the kitchen, April built a fire and put the kettle on to heat water. Lou's face needed tending and she wondered where the rest of the family was. Had they escaped the storm?

Going to the cupboard, she found a tin of grease and some food. Lester undressed Lou and found where the skin had been ripped by something sharp. It looked like he might have been in the house when it was blown apart. His skin hung on bones, making him look like he was half starved. Going into the outer room, he saw April had built a fire.

"Better keep it small. Can't risk the smoke being seen on a clear day."

"How bad is he?"

"He's awful skinny and covered in a whole lotta cuts. I'd guess he was in the house when she blew down. Come dark, I'll go take a peek to see if anyone else survived."

April lifted the kettle of hot water off the stove. "I'll cook as soon as I get Lou fixed up some."

Lester watched his sister go in, then turned to tend to the water. Going to the spring, he saw little footprints. Perhaps Lou's sister was alive, too. Carefully, he lowered the water bucket.

"You can come out. Its safe. April is taking care of Lou. I'm her brother and we're in hiding, too."

He heard the rustle of brush and the smallest woman Lester had ever seen emerged from the vines. She wore a brown dress that was the same color of her hair.

"You can go into the house. There are six or seven militia men out there, so it's best we all stay out of sight."

Permelia Murray almost fainted when Lester spoke. Her knees turned to jelly but she put her chin up and stepped out of the vines . She was so tired and hungry that she almost passed out. Someone had been staying in the shack, or she and Lou would have had food.

If they'd had a gun, Lou would have run them off. But all they could do was hide in the vines, hoping whoever it was would leave. They never got a look at him. He came for water in the early morning hours when they had been asleep.

It wouldn't have been so bad, but Lou was all stove up and needed his wounds tended to. She had no way of knowing how to treat them. Ma had never taught her how to do things like that.

"A lady doesn't do those things," Ma had said when Lila had tried to teach her.

"Well there is a war going on!" Lila said, thinking it foolish not to at least know how to cover a wound. Ma refused to accept it. And that had been that. But Lila had been right and ran away North with the first wave of slaves. Ma had sputtered and the house had gone into disarray.

Ma had never cooked and didn't know how to run the stove or ovens. Pa had brought bread back from Mr. Ross's store and tried to cook. Permelia found the stove a disaster and had tried to help Pa, but Ma had ordered her out of the kitchen.

Because of their mother's denial, Permelia and Lou had been bringing food to the shack for months and cooking it. Lou was losing weight and Permelia's clothes hung off her. Clean clothing was at a premium. She had tried to scrub them clean in the afternoon while Ma slept. They looked pretty dingy on the back line. Luckily, Ma never saw, because she refused to go out in the servants' yard as she called it.

When the militia had raided their place, Pa had been shot. And Ma had hanged herself after what the militia men had done to her. Permelia and Lou had been in the back, taking down the clothes. When Lou saw who it was, he had rushed Permelia off into the swamp and here they were. The storm had raged around them and when they went back to the house, it had been blown apart. Still scared, they had returned to find someone in the shack. She had to tell April they were not alone out here.

Lester watched as Permelia, staggering, hurried to the door. Lifting the pail, he went inside. From the bedroom he heard, "And we don't know who's staying here."

"Damn," April said. "Who would know about this place?"

"We don't know. Pa built it when the war started for a hideaway. Could he still be alive?"

"We can only hope Emery and that bunch leave us alone and we don't run into him," Lester said.

Both women went pale and Permelia sat down, trembling.

"You look awful," April said. "How long has it been since you've eaten?"

"Three or four days."

Turning, April went to work cooking. Permelia laid her head on the table and was almost instantly asleep.

"Poor thing," April patted the other's woman's matted hair.

Outside, Lester worked his way among the vines. He almost stepped on a man lying among them. The man's shirt and pant leg was covered with dried blood and flies.

The man was feverish and unconscious. Turning him over, Lester saw it was a man that used to visit Mr. Ross's store every day or so. He was sure it was Mr. Murray. Lifting the man up was no problem, he had lost so much weight. At the door, he called to April.

"Got me a sick man here!"

Between them, they got the man laid out on the floor and cleaned up. He had three bullet holes that had already started to heal.

"They're clean wounds. They just need wrapping up. He could use a good feeding,too." April sent Lester for more water while she worked.

Lester was beginning to feel crowded. He hoped to hell there weren't anymore wounded hiding around.

April cooked up a meal and fed Permelia.

"Lester's a good boy," she explained to Permelia as she prepared to go outside. "He'll help with your brother and Pa while I'm gone. Don't forget those militia men are still looking for us."

Permelia was still shaking with fear and relief. She was glad Pa had not been killed. He was foolish, but a real nice person. She wished they could just leave this awful country.

Outside, April and Lester talked quietly.

"You know we have to stay and help these folks. They can't even cook. Permelia should at least be able to use some of her sewing skills on her brothers face. Never seen such a mess."

The long shadows of afternoon lay on the banks of the river. April watched as what looked like a boat drifted by. She was sure it was the militia men still out looking.

Go on by, please!

She had thought the river was farther away. That creek must have doubled back. If she had known, she'd never have built a fire. She'd have to leave cooking to early morning when the smoke would be covered by mist.

When Lester came out, she explained what she had seen. He agreed that she better not build any more fires.

"Lou says his Ma hung herself. I don't want to think about what Emery did to her first."

April went in. The house was quiet. She needed to sleep. Her body trembled with fatigue and her stomach rumbled with hunger. From the bedroom, snores could be heard. She wished she could go in and sleep on the soft bed, but instead she threw a cover on the floor and was soon fast asleep.

Lester sat among the vines listening to the night sounds. He shivered to think how close he had come to being an outlaw. The Murray place had been his only trip with the militia. It had scared the hell out of him. He thought that the militia was to warn the Southern soldiers where and what the Yankees were doing. Now, he realized that Emery's bunch were just outlaws robbing and killing innocent people.

They had to get away. But where could they go? And what would they do about the Murrays? They needed someone to take care of them.

Sometime later, he heard the militia go by. They must be headed home. The smell of smoke pulled him out of a daze. He'd have April relieve him on watch for a while. He couldn't think, he was so tired.

All three jumped as Lester swung the door open.

"We need to make a plan to escape." Permelia said. "April thinks Mr. Ross might be able to help us go back North."

"I hear he charges real steep." Lester wondered how on earth these people would be able to travel, much less pay for a trip North. "Might be a spell before we dare go there."

The next week was full of tension. The Murrays were forever talking about going North. It made Lester mad to think that Mr. Murray would even consider a trip with Lou in that shape.

From the bedroom door, they heard April gasp. Walking around, they saw she was white-faced.

"There's someone coming from the river. Oh God! It's Emery!"

Grabbing Permelia, Lester carried her out the back door with April right behind. In four strides, he pushed her and April into the hole in the vines.

"Don't talk! If I don't come back, go to Mr. Ross and go North."

At the door, Lou waited, the twelve inch knife aimed chest high. He'd only have one chance and he'd better make it good. He watched as the man came up the path. His heart raced, closing off his hearing. He had recognized Emery on sight.

Now, the night of the raid came roaring back, filling him with a killing rage. He saw Emery descend on his mother. He saw as he ripped and slashed her gown and small clothes to shreds. Emery had done awful things. He could still hear Emery laugh as he threw her on the floor, a bloody, ruined human being. In a haze, Lou had carried Permelia deep into the woods to save themselves.

When they'd returned, he had found their mother hanging from the stairwell, the clothes line around her neck. He hadn't found his father and had brought Permelia to the shack in a state of shock. Only, there had already been someone there. They had gone back to the house, only to have it blown down on them.

All the hate was bunched behind the knife. The door slammed open and Emery walked right into Lou's blade that thrust straight and true, then jerked upward with deadly accuracy.

Emery's eyes opened in surprise as he fell lifeless to the floor. Lou looked at the lifeless body then vomited on it. He was still heaving dry sobs when Lester opened the back door.

"Oh Lord!" Lester ran to pull Lou away from his brother's body.

In Emery's hand, a sharp machete hung by its strap. Lester saw dried blood from one end to the other. He knew someone had paid dearly for their escape.

April and Permelia crowded into the room behind him.

When April saw Emery in a pool of blood, she ran to Lou thinking he had been cut. In the bedroom doorway, Mr. Murray stood with Lester's gun.

"It's okay, Mr. Murray. The man's dead."

"Yes," was all Mr. Murray could say, collapsing to the floor.

Pulling Emery out the door, Lester dragged his body over by the creek and, removing the knife, he inserted the machete into the wound and walked away toward a new life.

# Chapter 20

Lester let the boat drift up to the landing of Kiplin's Corners. In the back, April and Permelia watched as men appeared from every bush and building.

April's stomach jumped and jerked like a frog in a jar. Holding Permelia's hand, she watched with fear. They could feel their disdain. When Mr. Murray waved and greeted them, several of the men stood, open-mouthed.

"Thought you were dead!" one yelled hurrying toward the dock.

"Should have been, but Lester and April found us and patched us up."

Everyone looked warily at the two. When Mr. Murray saw the looks, he got mad.

"What? You all don't think the whole damn bunch was crooked, do ya? Emery was hunting these two. While they were running, they found our shack, and me and Lou were pretty close to dying."

"Where is Emery now?" Mr. Ross asked. "We sure as hell don't need him sneaking around here."

"Dead. Found him where he fell on his own machete," Lester said. "There's still six men in that bunch loose and I know who they are."

Taking Lou's elbow, he helped him along inside.

"No one needs to know the truth. It was either you or him," he whispered. Permelia looked up thanking Lester with her eyes.

"There's been an awful lot of killing over along Todd Creek," Ross told Lester as he made arrangements for the Murrays to be transported back North.

"That Emery, he had a lot of blood on him. He was crazy mad when I laid him out cold. They've been on the river every night."

"We've been watching," Ross said, scratching his head. "They buried your folks a couple days after you left here."

He watched Lester's reaction.

"Too bad," Lester said, sad. "But Pa, he sold off April and she's just a kid. How bad was Emery's rampage?

"Ten dead and a lot of injured. He musta been mad."

"Never been crossed," was all Lester said, shaking his head.

"Feel like giving me some names?"

Lester gave Ross a list of names that made Ross's scalp crawl. Some, he had wondered about, but some were a surprise. It wouldn't be safe for any of them to travel until the threat could be dealt with, but now they had the knowledge they needed to end the militia's reign of terror.

Three months later...

On the morning the Murrays were due to leave, Jamie went to April.

"I've got a letter I'd like for you to give a friend."

"I'd be glad to."

"This is the place you're going. She will be waiting."

April looked at the sealskin bag. The wax would keep what was inside dry. _A love letter._ She'd make sure it got delivered.

The ship chugged up the river. A soft breeze just whispered across the deck. Along the railing, the Murray party watched the landscape drift by. The lights high on the river bank twinkled in the night.

Lester held Permelia's hand snug in his huge one. Permelia smiled and looked up. Almost put a crick in her neck to look at him.

"One of those houses is where we're going." Mr. Murray said.

Lester felt Permelia's hand hitch deeper into his and his heart swelled as he squeezed her hand gently. Mr. Murray noticed and felt a lonely empty feeling wash over him. He'd soon be alone.

May 1865...

High on the banks, a pair of eyes saw the ship, the _Maiden Fair_ , sail by and wondered if there'd be news.

"Lacy, he'll write when it's safe," her mother said.

"I know, but I can always hope."

"Better be soon," her father said.

"Isn't that the boat the Murrays are coming on?"

"I believe so. Will you be sending the coach out tonight or wait till morning?" Grace asked Ted, still watching the boat's lights go up river.

"It'll be waiting for them at the dock. Daisy's been cooking up a storm all day."

"It'll be crazy here for a few days." Marion smiled. "This place is going to look like a boarding house pretty soon."

"Lindy is going to miss Lacy when you move," Grace told Marion as the two headed up the stairs.

"I still can't believe Lindy is going to be a mother by next Christmas. Has she heard from the Captain?"

"No, and it's been three weeks. Hard to believe it's been over half a year since we came here, isn't it?".

"Time does fly," Marion said. "Our house will be ready to move into soon. I never thought it would take so long."

"The Sergeant stopped by today," Daniel spoke from the window. "He said he heard some of the troops have been returning. The war is supposed to be officially over."

The shrill whistle of the train a couple miles away woke up the town. At the station, people milled around the platform in hopes their loved ones were on it. The cars were strung out and packed. Some with people coming North in hopes of getting away from the destruction that remained and some returning home, their time in the army over.

The last to leave the second car was Captain Mills. Slowly, he limped along the platform. It was a long walk to Lindy's house and he looked for a carriage to drive him, but there were none.

Slowly, he made his way toward the river. His leg ached and he pondered the thought of going to a hotel for the night. Still, there might be a boat he could hire. So intent on looking, he almost missed Benny sitting in the family carriage, waiting for the boat from down river with the Murrays on it.

Walking around the carriage, he jumped when Benny leaped to the ground and grabbed him in a bear hug.

"Captain Mills! You are a sight. Miss Lindy is sure gonna be happy to see you."

"You don't know how happy I am to see you, Benny. Why are you here at this time of day?"

"I'm here to pick up some folks from Mr. Ross. He's been sending up people all the time. There's five coming on this boat. I'm afraid your daughter's not with them but we have heard she's safe."

"Hows Lindy?"

"She's been busy knitting and sewing baby stuff. She's been awful worried about not hearing any news from you." Just then, a boat horn filled the night making both men jump.

Aboard the boat, April shivered. The lights of Albany strung along the river. The size of the place made her wish she was back home. There must be thousands of people here.

Mr. Murray sighed. He hadn't known he missed people so much. He was thrilled to see people milling along the waterfront. He missed the noise of city life. A sadness washed over him. His wife would have been thrilled at all the people. He knew he would never forgive himself for taking her so far from home. The children would soon be on their own and he would be alone. He felt empty and old and tired. As they made their way down the gangplank, he saw a man holding a sign reading _Murray._

Inside the carriage, Lester ran his hands over his stomach. He had gone back to their home to put flowers on his parents' grave. While he was there, he rummaged through Emery's room. Beneath the mattress, he had found a bag filled with money.

When he returned to Mr. Ross's, he had paid up the family's bill. He hadn't had time to count the remainder of the money, but he knew he and April would be well off. He paid Mr. Ross for their passage and keep. He had tried to pay Mr. Murray, too, but he refused and just said it was a wedding present.

"You could have left us to die but you didn't," he had said.

"As soon as we get to a town, I will buy you a sparkly ring," Lester told Permelia.

Captain Mills watched the four and envied them their youth. He could hardly wait to see Lindy.

June 1866...

Sheldon and Kim sat in the dark. They had married in the weeks after the ordeal with the renegade militia men had ended. Knowing that Kim was safe, Jamie returned North to Lacy the day after the wedding, on the first boat he could find.

The screened-in porch now held two rocking chairs. The quiet of night enveloped them and the flowers that had started to blossom sent a soft sweet fragrance around them. Still, above it all, his nostrils filled with the smell of roses and he let it wrap around him.

"I can't believe I'll be seeing my father tomorrow." Kim sighed in the darkness. "And that he married Lindy of all people."

She laughed.

"How do you feel about being a big sister?"

"Oh Lord, I'd forgotten. I still feel silly about that."

"I think we'd better get to bed. Tomorrow is a big day."

Kim agreed, trying to rise out of the chair.

"It's getting harder to get out of this thing." She groaned, feeling a twinge in her lower back. "Emma says it's because I'm having twins."

Kim doubled over, the pain increased and hit her like a ton of bricks. Sheldon swept Kim up and was running toward the kitchen in seconds as she went into labor.

"I'm right here!" Bottie yelled. "Just put her in the room by the nursery."

"Poke up that fire," Emma said to Hank. "We're gonna need hot water. Then go fetch my herb bag.

Sheldon, hair askew and pacing, jumped as Hank walked in the door.

"It'll be any minute now." Hank reassured him.

Across the hall, the wails of babies could be heard. It filled Sheldon with wonder and pride. He longed to see them, hold them, but most of all, to hold Kim.

Bottie cracked the door as she passed.

"It's a boy and a girl. Kimmy's gonna be fine."

Both men laughed with relief.

Outside, the air filled with shouting and laughter. Along the path, Lindy and Lacy, each carrying a baby, rushed towards the cottage.

Sheldon, already exhausted cringed at the sound. "I completely forgot they were coming after last night."

"Who's that guy?" Hank asked.

"That's my father-in-law, Lindy's husband," Sheldon said..

"Kim's dad? But he's so old!"

"Don't say that to Lindy," Sheldon laughed, going to the door to welcome them.

The next hour was a hectic mess. Kim awoke to see her father, eyes filled with tears sitting by her bed.

"Hello Kimmy. It's so good to see you."

Kim's eyes filled with tears from all the months and years of staying brave. All her father could do was hold her as they both wept happy tears while Emma brought the twins over for him to see. Soon, Jamie and Lacy arrived to meet the newest members of the family and to show off their own infant son, Jamie. With such a bright future before them, the war seemed a distant past.

And Kim couldn't wait to see what lay ahead.

Jaimeson McGlen walked slowly back to the house, his pronounced limp forever a reminder of his time at war. It made the repairs slower but soon the new porch would be complete and this place would feel like home again. He reread the two letters sitting on the table again and again.

One was from Cook, telling him how the inn was coming along. Cook had taken along _the boy_ as they still called him, since the kid had no family left. Cook said he was fast becoming a better chef than himself.

Picking up the second letter, he smiled. This one was from Jamie. He and Lacy were on their way back home to the Porters' just on the other side of the mountain and would be here in about a month. But what made Jaimeson smile the most was that his grandson, another little Jamie, would be with them. And that made everything they had suffered seem like a distant memory, no more than a dull ache in his leg.

The End

