Prologue - 1864
The Civil War had been raging since 1861, over a million American soldiers had died in the conflict on both the Union and Confederate sides. George Thatcher had been a Captain in the Confederate Army for three years. Being from Charleston, avoiding the war was not an option; but being an honorable man, he joined his friends in the cause, not because he felt strongly about the preservation of slavery or the confederate states, but because the thought of leaving his friends to fight and die in nearby fields would have been intolerable to someone of his nature. George found that he was not alone in this, and was assigned to Fort Fisher in April 1861 and ended up with three bullet holes in him by December 1864.
It was in the army hospital, if it could be called that, George met Lacy Staten. Not being quick to recover from his bullet wounds, George spent many hours admiring Lacy and yearning for her company. Often creating many excuses for her to tend to his wounds, fix his bed, anything he could think of at the time. Lacy was quick to attend to the handsome Captain and gave him more attention than the other poor souls under her care. As soon as George could be sure he wasn't going to die, he proposed to the young Lacy and she happily accepted. George was 34, and his young bride was just on 17 when they were married.
George had been honorably discharged on account of his injury and took his new bride home. George had been a Master builder in Charleston, but after the war he found that he had little in the way of family keeping him there and far fewer friends than he had joined the cause with, he decided to head to Logan County to build a new life with his wife and her family. Being a man of means George purchased 20,000 acres of woodland along the tug river and cleared out a patch for his family.
If it weren't for his wife's deep family connections in the area, George would've been accused of carpet bagging; there were a few neighbours that took a while to warm to George but on account of his nature and quickness to assist those in need or to give fellow landholders sage advice he was fast accepted into the Logan County community as family.
Upon clearing a beautiful piece of land set a little over 100 meters off the edge of the Tug, George proceeded to build his bride a beautiful home – taking great care to include all amenities that a young wife would need. It was more house than many of George's neighbors were accustomed to, and he was branded as a man that had a heart as big as his house; which he did not take as the insult that it may have been intended.
The home was two stories, white clad wood, with a wide veranda that wrapped across the front of the home. There were wide steps leading up to the double front door that George had insisted on painting bright blue. There were many large windows allowing plenty of light into the large dining room, keeping with tradition they had green shutters on each of the windows, and screens to allow the house to cool down in the middle of summer.
To be sure there were much grander homes in the South, but in Logan County, George Thatcher was known for having the big white house on the Tug Fork River and the pretty young wife.
Lacy and George Thatcher were happy for a time in their new home, amongst Lacy's family that included the local Staten's and Hatfield's. Lacy had been a Staten and her sister was married to Ellison Hatfield who had served in the Army with George up until he was injured; Ellison was another reason that George was quick to move to the County, the two had become as close as brothers during his service and Ellison always had spoken so optimistically of the timbering opportunities his older brother had been pursuing in West Virginia.
George had not been disappointed with his change in location, nor for the new family he had found himself surrounded by, even with their ingrained ways and interweaving family trees. When Lacy fell pregnant in early 1866, he couldn't be happier. Lacy and George lived in this bliss, prosperous with family and wealth, unfortunately it was all going to be short lived. Lacy endured a complicated birth, and died a week after having given birth to a little girl, named Adaline.
Chapter One: 1876
It was spring time in West Virginia, and Adaline had spent the morning setting traps, hoping to bring something home to make her Daddy proud. Adaline knew she wasn't to venture past the Tug Fork River or further north than her Uncle Anse's home, but she was free to roam until sunset, and so that is what she did. It was just Adaline and her father at home, along with their portly housekeeper Mrs Smith, who always enjoyed when Adaline brought home something for her to make into a pie or stew.
It was a concern of Adaline's father that he had raised such a tomboy, but he wasn't sure that the hills of West Virginia were suited to the softer sex and he rested easier knowing that she had a good knowledge of hunting, and a keen interest in lumbering and building. Ideally she would marry a man who could provide easily for her, but being learned and headstrong he could not rely on her finding a match locally. It wasn't that George held anything against his late wife's kin, who were his neighbours in Logan County, he just didn't think they would produce heirs with enough ambition to contain the dreams of his little girl; and if he were honest, he was raising her to fulfil this prophecy.
Adaline was doing the rounds of checking the traps she had set the day before, she had the idea that she was going to breed her own rabbits and needed to catch some mates. In the mind of this nine year-old girl she thought it would just be easier if Mrs Smith could walk out to the barn and select herself a rabbit for dinner. In actual fact, old Mrs Smith was hoping for some venison or beef, but indulged the young girl no-end to encourage her industrial nature.
Tall for her age but still light and agile, Addy could move quickly through the woodlands without alerting the animals to her presence. Adaline prided herself on her steady footing and would often practice walking around her home without anyone hearing her footsteps, being an only child with her father mostly working had meant that she had created all sorts of ways of entertaining herself.
She heard a rustling to her left and she stood very still, only turning her head slowly. There was a deer in the clearing and they had adopted a similar frozen stance as they looked sideways at each other, with only 15 feet between them she knew that this was the closest she'd get to a deer in the wild. Looking into the eyes of the deer, Adaline felt a deep connection to the wild creature, as though they were kindred spirits in some way.
It happened so quickly, the deer's chest erupted and sprayed a mist of blood into the clearing and then she heard the crack of the gunshot echo around her, at least that's how she remembered it. Before she could catch herself she let out a small wail, and then instinctively dived to the base of a nearby tree and kept very still.
Her father had warned her to be mindful of hunters, but being that she was still on their land she hadn't feared interruption. Quickly she was trying to think of the best way not to be mistook for another target by the hunters.
"Hello?" she sang out meekly.
She heard heavy footsteps traipsing down the side of the hill to retrieve their kill.
"Who's there?" Bellowed a familiar voice, it was her Uncle Jim. They had a love/hate relationship, Adaline loved to pester Jim - who in fact wasn't her Uncle but was loosely related through the Hatfield's - about any nature of hunting and shooting, and Jim hated it. Or so he said.
"Uncle Jim," Adaline stuck her head out from behind the tree and looked up hill, "it me!"
It was clear in Adaline's voice that she was thrilled to encounter her Uncle Jim out hunting of all places. Jim and his nephew, William, were trudging down the side of the hill; they didn't look overly pleased to see her.
"Well with all that hollering, we can be sure that there won't be anything left to be shot today." William said, disappointed that his target practice was over. William was a good shot and it was well known that he was under the tutelage of his Uncle Jim; Adaline knew it was wrong but she was jealous that all the things she loved doing came so easily to William, and what was worse, an adult dedicated their time to helping him do it better.
"Well perhaps if you were a better shot, you could try shooting something smaller William." She said picking up her cane cage, which had a live rabbit she had pulled from a trap earlier. Adaline knew it didn't really hold true, as at the age of 11, William was already a far better shot than most grown men.
William gave her a wry smile, and walked over to take a look in her cage.
"You been trapping your critters again?" He asked, poking fun at her hobby.
"Yes, except this time I'm going to see if I can breed them." Adaline said in earnest.
William and Jim looked at each other, and the burst into laughter.
"What's so funny about that?" Adaline asked, embarrassed at not understanding the joke.
"Addy, there is a saying you know 'breed like rabbits' on account of how quickly they breed." Uncle Jim saw that they had upset her and condescended to restore her feelings, somewhat "So you should be able to breed them no problems, you'll just have to find yourself a mate."
"I know," she replied a little angrier that she expected, "that's what I'm doing."
"Don't your pap ever get sick of eating rabbit?" William asked, not taking his Uncles lead to give the young girl a break.
"No, Mrs Smith makes a great rabbit pie that he loves." Adaline said as a matter-of-fact, "and when he wants to eat venison, I'm sure he'll get me a gun."
Uncle Jim laughed, patting Adaline affectionately on shoulder. "And when he does, I promise I'll teach you how to use it."
William's brow furrowed, but Adaline's face beamed. "You promise?" she looked up at Jim with such big blue eyes that he now understood why George was so quick to indulge his daughters every whim.
"I promise." He confirmed. "Now get along home, you have a walk ahead of you and you gotta be back before it gets dark."
Adaline nodded, giddy with the excitement that her Uncle Jim might actually teach her how to shoot, just like William.
William and Jim continued on to inspect their kill, and hitch it to the poles to get it home.
"You really going to teach her how to shoot Uncle Jim?" William asked as he was binding the rope around the deer's hooves.
"Don't see why not, and it's likely her pap will get her gun too, she's definitely got him wrapped around her pinkie. Why's that?"
"Just don't seem right, her being a girl and always in the mud, trapping and shootin'." William was more annoyed by this than he ought to have been.
"Don't forget son, she's not like your sisters, she ain't got no mumma teaching her the way of things. Besides, you know you've been her favorite since she was a grasshopper and she wants to be just like you."
"No she don't." William blushed and Jim laughed, he loved nothing more than stirring the pot.
