Dec 29, 1863
Sweetfern Farm
Kirkwood, MS
When Mac walked into the kitchen, Hannah stopped in mid-sentence and just looked at her. It was odd for Hannah to stop talking, but in mid-sentence, that was something Mac could never remember her doing. They fugitive family, along with Sturgis Turner, their conductor, who had been sitting at the kitchen table eating their midday meal, also looked up and made to rise from their seats.
"Please, keep your seats," Mac said, and nodded her head toward their chairs. She deposited the tray of bandages, pitcher and basin, and poultice on the island counter top in the middle of the large room. She was about to being making up the draft, when Sturgis said, "This is Sarah Mackenzie. She's the stationmaster."
At that the father of the fugitive family, a man with salt-and-pepper hair who looked to be almost forty rose to his feet. He addressed Mac formally, "Ma'am, I can't thank you enough for everything you have done."
"Please," she said, shaking her head, "Call me Mac. Welcome, and while you're here please, make yourselves at home."
"Again, many thanks," the father said, "My name is Ezekiel Gibson. This my wife Margaret, and our children Isaac and Minnie."
"It is a pleasure to meet you all," Mac said as she shook hands with each of them. Margaret was in her mid-thirties, and had the look of a healthy woman who has lost a lot of weight too quickly. Isaac looked to be I his early teens, perhaps, thirteen- or fourteen-years-old. He looked much like his father- shorter in stature, but broad shouldered and strong, though a bit skinny. And little, Minnie, couldn't have been more than ten. She hair was pulled back into a neat little bun, and her eyes twinkled with youthful innocence.
"You've given us so much, if there is anything we can do to repay you." Margaret started, but Mac held up her hand before she could finish speaking.
"All I ask, is that you reach freedom," she said genuinely. Then, seeing the looks on Margaret and Ezekiel's faces Mac was afraid she might have insulted them, so she added lightly, "But if you're looking for something to do, I'm sure we can find something to keep you busy."
Margaret's face seemed to brighten and Ezekiel seemed to stand taller. "Ezekiel and I can read, and I'm good with a needle, mem, and the children are mighty handy."
"Oh, that's such a relief. I'm not much at needlework and I'm woefully behind in the mending," Mac said truthfully, and Margaret nodded happily. Mac looked at little Minnie and noticed that the little girl had taken a keen interest in Hannah's cooking. "And I think, Miss Hannah could use an extra pair of hands in the baking this afternoon," Mac said suggestively, winking at Hannah.
"Ah, of course I do," the heavyset cook replied, "We'll be making lots of bread and biscuits for the hands. Would you like to help me little Minnie?"
The little girl looked up at her mother, who smiled and nodded and the child pranced over to Hannah, who gave her a little bowl of egg and milk to mix. That left only Ezekiel and Isaac to find chores for.
Sturgis, who'd been sitting silently by watching the conversation unfold, rose from his seat, and said, "I understand young Gunny is trying to move the hay bails in the barn, I think we could assist him, eh, Zeke?"
Ezekiel nodded and touched his son's arm. "Well, that would be most helpful of you," Mac said, then added, suddenly worried, "But, Sturgis, remember to keep them, and yourself, out of sight."
"Not to worry, Mac," Sturgis said, "The passageway leads to the barn. We'll just slip in there at the first sight of anyone."
"Preferably sooner," Mac warned, and Sturgis smiled reassuringly. Then, he led Ezekiel and Isaac out to the barn. "I'll find that mending for you, Mrs. Gibson, if you'll give me a moment."
Mac disappeared into a closet in the hallway outside the kitchen, and returned a few moments later with a basket full of shirts, petticoats, shawls, socks, and countless other garments.
"I'm sorry, it's such a mess," she apologized, "But I've never been very enthusiastic about sewing, mending and needlework."
Margaret took the basket from her and she helped Mac organize the clothes on the kitchen table. From behind them, little Minnie said simply, "But you mend people."
Margaret blushed and turned around to face her daughter. "Minnie Gibson, you mind your work," she said sternly and Minnie looked down into her bowl, chastised. Then, Margaret faced Mac with guilty eyes, "We didn't mean to pry into your personal life, mem. We was just talking about that soldier and how you fixed him last night."
"Well, that's nothing personal, Mrs. Gibson," Mac assured her, "In fact, if it hadn't been for your family and Sturgis, Lieutenant Rabb, the soldier, wouldn't have made it here."
"Oh, well," Margaret said bashfully, "You done everything to fix him, though."
Mac's cheeks turned a bit pink, and she said, "Well, my father taught me how to."
Suddenly, there came a loud knock from the front door, and man's voice called out for Miss Mackenzie. Mac dropped the shirt she was holding and sprang into action.
"Mrs. Gibson, little Minnie, you'll have to hide for a little while," she said quickly but as gently as she could so as not to scare Minnie, "Here's a lantern and there should be a good book in there. You can come out as soon as it's safe."
Margaret nodded as she hurried her frightened daughter into the passageway. Mac rounded on Hannah, "Go to the barn and warn Sturgis."
Hannah had already dusted her hands on her apron and wrapped a shawl from the mending basket around her shoulders. She was out the back door at the same moment, Mac was headed for the front.
When Mac walked into the kitchen, Hannah stopped in mid-sentence and just looked at her. It was odd for Hannah to stop talking, but in mid-sentence, that was something Mac could never remember her doing. They fugitive family, along with Sturgis Turner, their conductor, who had been sitting at the kitchen table eating their midday meal, also looked up and made to rise from their seats.
"Please, keep your seats," Mac said, and nodded her head toward their chairs. She deposited the tray of bandages, pitcher and basin, and poultice on the island counter top in the middle of the large room. She was about to being making up the draft, when Sturgis said, "This is Sarah Mackenzie. She's the stationmaster."
At that the father of the fugitive family, a man with salt-and-pepper hair who looked to be almost forty rose to his feet. He addressed Mac formally, "Ma'am, I can't thank you enough for everything you have done."
"Please," she said, shaking her head, "Call me Mac. Welcome, and while you're here please, make yourselves at home."
"Again, many thanks," the father said, "My name is Ezekiel Gibson. This my wife Margaret, and our children Isaac and Minnie."
"It is a pleasure to meet you all," Mac said as she shook hands with each of them. Margaret was in her mid-thirties, and had the look of a healthy woman who has lost a lot of weight too quickly. Isaac looked to be I his early teens, perhaps, thirteen- or fourteen-years-old. He looked much like his father- shorter in stature, but broad shouldered and strong, though a bit skinny. And little, Minnie, couldn't have been more than ten. She hair was pulled back into a neat little bun, and her eyes twinkled with youthful innocence.
"You've given us so much, if there is anything we can do to repay you." Margaret started, but Mac held up her hand before she could finish speaking.
"All I ask, is that you reach freedom," she said genuinely. Then, seeing the looks on Margaret and Ezekiel's faces Mac was afraid she might have insulted them, so she added lightly, "But if you're looking for something to do, I'm sure we can find something to keep you busy."
Margaret's face seemed to brighten and Ezekiel seemed to stand taller. "Ezekiel and I can read, and I'm good with a needle, mem, and the children are mighty handy."
"Oh, that's such a relief. I'm not much at needlework and I'm woefully behind in the mending," Mac said truthfully, and Margaret nodded happily. Mac looked at little Minnie and noticed that the little girl had taken a keen interest in Hannah's cooking. "And I think, Miss Hannah could use an extra pair of hands in the baking this afternoon," Mac said suggestively, winking at Hannah.
"Ah, of course I do," the heavyset cook replied, "We'll be making lots of bread and biscuits for the hands. Would you like to help me little Minnie?"
The little girl looked up at her mother, who smiled and nodded and the child pranced over to Hannah, who gave her a little bowl of egg and milk to mix. That left only Ezekiel and Isaac to find chores for.
Sturgis, who'd been sitting silently by watching the conversation unfold, rose from his seat, and said, "I understand young Gunny is trying to move the hay bails in the barn, I think we could assist him, eh, Zeke?"
Ezekiel nodded and touched his son's arm. "Well, that would be most helpful of you," Mac said, then added, suddenly worried, "But, Sturgis, remember to keep them, and yourself, out of sight."
"Not to worry, Mac," Sturgis said, "The passageway leads to the barn. We'll just slip in there at the first sight of anyone."
"Preferably sooner," Mac warned, and Sturgis smiled reassuringly. Then, he led Ezekiel and Isaac out to the barn. "I'll find that mending for you, Mrs. Gibson, if you'll give me a moment."
Mac disappeared into a closet in the hallway outside the kitchen, and returned a few moments later with a basket full of shirts, petticoats, shawls, socks, and countless other garments.
"I'm sorry, it's such a mess," she apologized, "But I've never been very enthusiastic about sewing, mending and needlework."
Margaret took the basket from her and she helped Mac organize the clothes on the kitchen table. From behind them, little Minnie said simply, "But you mend people."
Margaret blushed and turned around to face her daughter. "Minnie Gibson, you mind your work," she said sternly and Minnie looked down into her bowl, chastised. Then, Margaret faced Mac with guilty eyes, "We didn't mean to pry into your personal life, mem. We was just talking about that soldier and how you fixed him last night."
"Well, that's nothing personal, Mrs. Gibson," Mac assured her, "In fact, if it hadn't been for your family and Sturgis, Lieutenant Rabb, the soldier, wouldn't have made it here."
"Oh, well," Margaret said bashfully, "You done everything to fix him, though."
Mac's cheeks turned a bit pink, and she said, "Well, my father taught me how to."
Suddenly, there came a loud knock from the front door, and man's voice called out for Miss Mackenzie. Mac dropped the shirt she was holding and sprang into action.
"Mrs. Gibson, little Minnie, you'll have to hide for a little while," she said quickly but as gently as she could so as not to scare Minnie, "Here's a lantern and there should be a good book in there. You can come out as soon as it's safe."
Margaret nodded as she hurried her frightened daughter into the passageway. Mac rounded on Hannah, "Go to the barn and warn Sturgis."
Hannah had already dusted her hands on her apron and wrapped a shawl from the mending basket around her shoulders. She was out the back door at the same moment, Mac was headed for the front.
