January 3rd, 1863

Griffin Rock, Maine

Residence of Michael Philip Everts, head of the Everts clan

Margaret smiled with happiness as her children ran through the yard as the snow fell. All of them were bundled up tightly to ward off the Maine chill that punctured the air like a knife. She chased after her children, hiking up her skirt as she did so. Something told her that her mother-in-law wouldn't have approved of what she was doing, how she was frolicking in the snow with her children like some girl.

"Mama!"

She turned just in time to have a snowball peg her in the face. Hard. Margaret slipped on the ice, falling backward into a snowbank. But she wasn't mad. In fact, she was laughing, her breath billowing outward from her mouth as she glanced up at the sky.

"That was a good shot, Lillian." She congratulated the youngest child as she sat up. The blonde child beamed proudly at the complement, before rejoining her siblings in another round of snowball attack. Feeling worn out and having playing in the snow since early that morning, Margaret stood and made her way back to the house, joining her father and husband on the porch.

Her father was a mountain of a man, with whiskers and a tan that spoke of time in the sun and among the mountains. Next to her husband, Lionel, he looked more like a giant. The family home, Crestwood, stood sentry among the barren fields that were covered in snow. Since his retirement from the Assassins Council, Margaret's father had been here, searching for any whereabout of his great-grandmother, Cordelia Abigail Williams, who had disappeared before the turn of the century, back in 1799. Nothing about her disappearance suggested foul play, with her house having nothing out of place inside, all her documents and lists of targets still there and untouched. It had become a tradition within the family that those who had lived to see retirement would resume the search that the predecessor started.

Margaret regretted the day she had to take up the work to search for someone who had probably stumbled into a situation by herself when she should've called for backup or had left well enough alone.

Her husband chuckled as he embraced her and the two kissed. When they separated, he gave her a look and said, "Do you want some coffee?"

"Mmmmmm yes please."

He pulled away, handing her a cup that it seemed he had already prepared. She smiled her thanks as she took it. The warm liquid spread throughout her body, banishing away the cold and leaving her with just contentment. She joined Lionel and her father on the porch, sitting down on the porch swing and watching the children play.

"How goes the war, Lionel?"

Margaret's lips pulled at the edges, hints of her barely perceptible discomfort at her father's question. If they were lucky enough to be home together, she knew better than to talk about the engagement, knowing very well what was happening out there that the papers weren't reporting. Besides, she knew that he wanted to forget the battlefield while he was home.

"As it can be expected." Her husband said after a pause. His eyes became distant and Margaret decided to quickly move away from the topic away of war.

"Father, didn't you say that there was a prospective investor hoping to purchase ownership of the company?"

The grey whiskers around her father's face shifted as he grimaced, taking the cue from his daughter. "Ah, yes. The investor has a particular interest in your Aunt's abolition work. He's willing to pay a hefty sum to the National Freedman's Bureau on some terms that we have to meet in the contract that we will discuss."

"What client has that much money?"

"A very influential one, apparently."

Lionel chuckled as he sipped his coffee. "Very true."

The trio lapsed into a comfortable silence as they watched the childhood innocence that they had lost. When the wind started to blow harder and colder, and the sky started to darken, Margaret called her children into the house. Everyone moved back into the house, where Lionel started a fire and everyone gathered around it. Margaret was the only one that didn't, as she had moved into the kitchen to start working on supper. It would be a simple supper, some warm porridge and some left over salted ham from Christmas dinner. She smiled as she turned around, occasionally hearing one of her children laughing at a story her Father was telling.

She allowed herself to get lost in the task she was doing, her hands moving on their own while her mind wondered.

Her brother received a letter from Sergeant Mulcahy only a couple of days ago, asking them to inquire after a thousand pairs of shoes for the all-black regiment. It would be difficult for them to get that many shoes, since the Assassin's treasury was extremely low and no one would be foolish enough to put in a favor with the Brotherhood for over a thousand pairs of shoes. There were some people in the North that hated the idea of freedom for the slaves just as much as some people in the South and it was difficult to sort those people out.

Maybe if she called in favors from the Treasury Department? Pulled a few strings?

She didn't know what she was going to do. They had backed themselves into a corner it seemed.

"You seemed tense."

She jumped, spinning around with a knife and wielding it with expertise. Only to see Lionel standing there, his hands splayed in a surrender and a small smile on his face.

"Easy, Maggie. It's just me."

Margaret sighed, rubbing her face as she relaxed, allowing the adrenaline to fade out of her body. "Almighty Christ, Lionel! Don't do that!"

"Sorry, but I was thinking that while your Father occupies our children," he embraced her and she leaned into it, inhaling her husband's natural scent. It smelled like forest of pine trees in the dead of winter. "We could go out for a ride."

Margaret smirked upward at her husband. "But it's freezing outside."

"Then we'll just have to bundle up. I'm sure they won't notice that we're gone."

"They'll notice when supper is not cooked."

"Then how about we go when they go down for bed? I haven't held you in so long and I would like a memory to hold onto when I'm starving and freezing out in the woods with a bunch of foul-mouthed men who hadn't washed in about a month."

Margaret laughed and reembraced her husband. "I wish you hadn't enlisted."

"I know, but I had no choice."

Margaret hated that. She hated that her duty to her lineage that tore her away from her duties as a mother, something that made her miserable life hold meaning. They were the stars in her sky and they were starting to slip away from her because she and Lionel weren't there.

"I wish we could hold this moment forever." She muttered into his shirt.

"I know."

"Let's take that ride." She decided. "After supper. Father can take care of the children for a few hours I'm sure."

"He's had some experience with you and your brother. So, our children shouldn't be too much of a handful."

Margaret felt a twinge of heartache at the mention of her brother, not her only sibling that she had. While she was here, she might as well pay her respects to her sister. Maybe she could do it that the day after next, after she greeted Henry at the docks.

"Mama?"

The two broke apart rather quickly and turned towards the young child that appeared. "Yes Marcus, sweetheart?"

"I'm hungry."

"Oh, well supper is almost done." She gave the boy a peck on his forehead and ruffled his pitch-black hair. "Why don't you go and see if Grandfather will tell you another story while I finish up?"

He perked up. "Okay!"

Lionel chuckled as he stood beside her. "That boy…..finds more fancy in the fantastical stories your Father tells than anything."

"He enjoys the stories of dashing young men racing to rescue the fair maiden in danger." Margaret chuckled. She gave her husband a peck on the cheek one last time before turning towards the still-unfinished meal and made to complete it. Margaret once again lost herself in the menial task until it was finished.

And with Julia's, her eldest child's, help, Margaret had sat the table and everyone gathered together to break bread.

"Father," she stated. "Would you mind saying grace?"

"Of course." Everyone bowed their heads, folding their hands and closing their eyes as the man said in a clear and powerful voice, "Oh Lord in Heaven, we thank You for this day that You have brought us. We thank You for protecting us for another year and for the ability to be with our families in these turbulent times. Watch over Lionel and the soldiers who are fighting for the soul of our country and please open the eyes of those blinded by greed to see that we are all made in Your image. For in Your name, we pray. Amen."

There was a soft echo of 'amen's that echoed around the table, and after Lionel had crossed himself, they all started to dig into their food. Dinner went about fairly, with very little talk of the war or recent politics. The children were more interested in recounting the snowball fight they had earlier that day, especially her son. Margaret beamed in happiness, soaking up her children's innocence and laughter, committing it to memory for those long nights in the cold night when dawn wasn't guaranteed. She was laughing along with her family when there was a knock that sounded at the door. Everyone froze, and from out of the corner of her eye, she saw her Father reach for his steak knife. She waved him off discreetly before sliding her knife into her sleeve and excusing herself to get the door.

When she got to the door, Margaret opened it, that knife ready to be used at a moment's notice. But she stayed her hand, her eyes lighting up with happiness when she saw Henry standing in the doorway, shivering.

"Well?" He asked, the smile belaying his tone. "Are you going to let me in or are you just going to let me freeze to death?"

"Oh! Henry!" she shouted as she took embraced her brother. She laughed happily. "Oh, it's good to see you again!"

"Good to see you again, Margaret." Her brother said as he returned the embrace. He whispered, "I need to speak with you and Father."

"Not now. My family's here." She warned. Her eyes hardened as she took in her brother's stance. "What's wrong?"

"Not now, remember?" He said before walking into the kitchen. Margaret couldn't move, not even hearing her children greet their uncle with excitement. Margaret sighed, shaking her head as she followed her brother into the kitchen. The cold feeling that had come over disappeared as she entered the room, putting a smile on her face that she hoped didn't seem to forced.

"Hey." Lionel came up behind her, looking worried. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head, assuring herself that everything was going to be okay. She smiled tightly at her husband. "I'm fine. Just tired."

"Too tired to take that carriage ride?"

Her smile became genuine as she pecked him on the lips. "I'm always up for a carriage ride."

She turned towards her family.

"Father? You wouldn't mind watching the children while Lionel and I dip out for a few hours?"

Her Father gave a hearty chuckle as he patted his oldest granddaughter on the head. "Absolutely."

Henry scoffed. "Not at all but we're gonna need to talk after you get home."

Margaret shot him a look before turning to go get her coat and bonnet. She wasn't going to put up with this while she was on leave.

She was going to spend time with her husband, as God as her witness.

"Everything alright?" Lionel asked as the two took their seat on the carriage.

"Everything's fine." She said sharply before flicking the reins.

And off they went into the night.