Dec 29, 1863 Sweetfern Farm Kirkwood, MS

Mac straightened her clothes as best she could. She was wearing a simple rust colored wool skirt, and a plain white shirt, but both were wrinkled beyond hope. She pulled on a natural brown wool shawl and tucked her loose hair behind her ears before she opened the front door.

"Harriet, Bud," she said surprised, more by the soot stains on her friends' clothes than at her presence, "What's wrong?"

"May we please come in, Mac?" Bud asked, his voice hoarse.

"Yes, yes of course," Mac said, as she held the door open for them. Harriet walked though first, carrying the crying baby AJ in her arms, her own tears wetting her cheeks. Bud followed his wife and son, and finally, Mac went in, locking the door behind them.

Harriet waited for Mac to come forward into the foyer and lead them on. Mac came up to her friend, and placed her hand on her arm. "Harriet, what happen?"

Tears were the only answer Harriet could muster, so Mac led them back to the kitchen where it was warm and cheerful. She settled Harriet at the table, sitting next to Bud, and she found AJ a pecan muffin to eat. Little AJ was soon contentedly sitting by the hearth munching away, and Mac had brought Harriet a strong cup of tea and Bud a strong cup of coffee.

"What happened?" Mac asked again, now fearing the worst.

"They burned it," Harriet whispered, "All of it."

"Your home?" Mac gasped completely shocked, "Who? When?"

"They burned everything last night and this morning," Bud finally said, his eyes distant, "The house, the barn, the fields, everything."

"Oh, my God," Mac said, "Was anyone hurt?"

Bud shook his head, "No, we got all the hands out in time, but we lost the animals. It was all so fast. At first, we thought it might be an accident, but then everything went up in flames."

"I'm so sorry, Bud," Mac said reaching across the table to comfort him.

"We think it was a group of confederates," Harriet said weakly, "You know Bud's sensibilities, his support of the union, hasn't brought us many friends. We think they've finally had enough. And with the battle going so well for them, I think they were pushed too far."

"Well, that sheriff with have to do something," Mac said, but the moment she'd said it she knew the sheriff would do nothing at all.

"What, Mic Brumby?" Bud asked incredulously, "He was probably there. He wouldn't track down the men who burned our home if he could get fifty slaves for it. Maybe for a hundred he'd do it."

Harriet shot Bud and warning glance, and he became quiet. But Mac heartily agreed with him, though she wouldn't have said so out loud. Harriet gave him another meaningful look, and Bud pinched his face, as though readying himself for some practiced speech.

"Mac, I hate to ask anything of you, for your uncle has given us so much already," he began, "But we need a place to stay. Harriet is in no condition to travel, and I doubt anyone else would take us in."

"Bud, you didn't have to ask. You're welcome here, whenever you have need," Mac replied, but then her eyes widened with sudden comprehension and joy, "Harriet, are you." "Yes, I'm in a rather delicate condition, Mac," Harriet said through her tears, though she couldn't bring herself to smile, but Mac made up for that for her.

Mac laughed out loud, like a giddy schoolgirl. "Harriet, I can't believe you didn't tell me. I'm so happy for you. Congratulations to both of you."

Neither Bud nor Harriet could resist smiling at Mac's infectious smile and laughter. Just then, Hannah returned from the barn. "Ah, Mr. Roberts, Mrs. Roberts," she said before noticing that they were smudged with soot, "What in blazes happened?"

"Poor choice of words there, Hannah," Bud said grimly.

"Hannah, the a group of Confederate sympathizers burned the Roberts' home and farm last night," Mac informed her, and Hannah crossed herself saying 'God forbid', "Yes, Hannah. So, they'll be staying with us for a while."

"Ah," Hannah said, her eyebrows raised and a weak smile on her face. Mac immediately caught her meaning, and her own eyes widened.

"Um, Bud, Harriet, I have to tell you a few things that are very important if you're going to be staying here," she said facing her friends. But when she saw their filthy faces and ruined clothes she said, "But it can wait until you've had a chance to wash and change. Come, I'll show up to your room."

Harriet bent and gathered AJ into her arms, and then Mac lead them up two flights of stairs to the third floor of the plantation house. They came off the steps in the sitting room, off of which were three bedrooms: the North room, which was Mac's, the West room, which was occupied by Lt. Rabb, and the East room.

"You can stay in the East Room," Mac told them as she led them through the door and into the room. When the entered the room. Bud put the small carpetbag containing all he and Harriet had managed to salvage onto the table at that far side of the room, facing the road. Mac walked briskly around opening the draperies. Harriet placed little AJ on the bed and began to undress him.

When Mac had finished opening the draperies, she turned to Bud and Harriet and said, "I'll go and find you both some clean clothes. The powder and washrooms are straight across the landing on the other side of the stairs. There are fresh towel and dressing gowns in the wardrobe. Why don't you three get cleaned up and I'll have those clothed ready for you by the time you're done." And with that she was gone.

"I wonder what she has to tell us," But said, as he began to unpack the carpetbag.