Jan. 6, 1864
Sweetfern Farm
Kirkwood, MS
Mac sat with Harriet in the kitchen sipping unsweetened tea; since the war had broken out they hadn't been able to get any coffee. Both women sat silently, their cups folded in their hands, and listened to little AJ babble as he played with his Noah's Ark.
Bud entered the room, and noticed at once the stiff silence of the ladies. He was glad for the silence; it meant that he didn't have to tell Mac how worried he was about her decision to marry Brumby. He sat down on the floor with AJ. "What's this one AJ?" he asked holding up the elephant.
"Wagon," he said in his childish voice, not looking up.
"I think this is an elephant, buddy," Bud corrected him.
"No," said AJ, with exaggerated patience. "Wagon."
Bud turned a confused face to the women sitting at the table. Harriet raised her eyebrows and shrugged, while Mac turned her head out the window. "A wagon is coming," she said. She rose from the table and walked from the room. She nearly collided with Harm when she reached the entrance hall.
"Mac, wait," he said as he reached for her arm, but she swept past him.
For the rest of her life, Mac would remember that moment, the few seconds before she opened the front door. She would still feel the sway of her skirt, and the way her hair blew across her eyes as she opened the door. The next she saw was just as vivid-a group of Confederate soldiers walking alongside a flat cart, and laying on the cart was a still form, covered in a grey blanket, a wide brimmed hat and sword laid over it.
"No," she breathed as she dashed down the steps, and across the yard. When she reached the cart she beheld him. "Oh, uncle," she breathed, her face contorting as tears began to fall down her cheeks. Her breath caught in her chest and for a moment she was aware only of the grief building within her. She rocked herself back and forth, until finally a gentle hand came to rest on her shoulder. It was Harm.
A sob shook her slender form, as Harm used his good arm and turned her into his strong chest. She cried hard against him, and then she began to pound angrily at his chest, yelling at him, at AJ, at the Confederate Army, at God. She fell to the ground, her skirt billowing around her. Harm followed her the ground and pulled her back into his chest. He rocked her gently until the sobs began to subside.
Harriet and Bud had remained in the background to shocked to move. AJ had been as much a guardian to them as he had been to Mac. Harriet cried silently on Bud's shoulder while Bud held his son tightly.
Mac had finally quieted enough, the she allowed Harm to lift her to her feet. She swayed uncertainly, and Harm wrapped his arm about her waist. She stiffened her back and squared her shoulders before she turned to face the soldiers.
"Thank you for bringing him home."
Mac sat with Harriet in the kitchen sipping unsweetened tea; since the war had broken out they hadn't been able to get any coffee. Both women sat silently, their cups folded in their hands, and listened to little AJ babble as he played with his Noah's Ark.
Bud entered the room, and noticed at once the stiff silence of the ladies. He was glad for the silence; it meant that he didn't have to tell Mac how worried he was about her decision to marry Brumby. He sat down on the floor with AJ. "What's this one AJ?" he asked holding up the elephant.
"Wagon," he said in his childish voice, not looking up.
"I think this is an elephant, buddy," Bud corrected him.
"No," said AJ, with exaggerated patience. "Wagon."
Bud turned a confused face to the women sitting at the table. Harriet raised her eyebrows and shrugged, while Mac turned her head out the window. "A wagon is coming," she said. She rose from the table and walked from the room. She nearly collided with Harm when she reached the entrance hall.
"Mac, wait," he said as he reached for her arm, but she swept past him.
For the rest of her life, Mac would remember that moment, the few seconds before she opened the front door. She would still feel the sway of her skirt, and the way her hair blew across her eyes as she opened the door. The next she saw was just as vivid-a group of Confederate soldiers walking alongside a flat cart, and laying on the cart was a still form, covered in a grey blanket, a wide brimmed hat and sword laid over it.
"No," she breathed as she dashed down the steps, and across the yard. When she reached the cart she beheld him. "Oh, uncle," she breathed, her face contorting as tears began to fall down her cheeks. Her breath caught in her chest and for a moment she was aware only of the grief building within her. She rocked herself back and forth, until finally a gentle hand came to rest on her shoulder. It was Harm.
A sob shook her slender form, as Harm used his good arm and turned her into his strong chest. She cried hard against him, and then she began to pound angrily at his chest, yelling at him, at AJ, at the Confederate Army, at God. She fell to the ground, her skirt billowing around her. Harm followed her the ground and pulled her back into his chest. He rocked her gently until the sobs began to subside.
Harriet and Bud had remained in the background to shocked to move. AJ had been as much a guardian to them as he had been to Mac. Harriet cried silently on Bud's shoulder while Bud held his son tightly.
Mac had finally quieted enough, the she allowed Harm to lift her to her feet. She swayed uncertainly, and Harm wrapped his arm about her waist. She stiffened her back and squared her shoulders before she turned to face the soldiers.
"Thank you for bringing him home."
