Jan. 13, 1864
Kirkwood Cemetery
Kirkwood, MS
Harm walked quietly into the graveyard; he didn't want to disturb Mac, who stood alone at AJ's gravesite. It had been seven days since the soldiers had brought him home to be buried, and two days since his funeral. Mac had closed herself off to he crowd of people who had come to pay their last respects. She's hardly eaten, let alone spoken, since AJ had been brought home. She was no longer the vivid woman he had first met. Her completely black attire was a stark contrast to the beautiful sunny day. As he drew closer he could see that her eyes were newly red and swollen.
"Mac?" he asked softly.
Her head jerked up at the sound of his voice. "Harm," she answered, and all of a sudden Mac's chest felt tight and new tears sprang into her eyes. Harm closed the distance between them and enveloped her in his arms. Her shoulders shook gently as she cried out all of the tension of the last few days. She didn't know why but she felt as if only now she could let go.
Harm rubbed her back as he held her tightly to him. Her tears slowly dried, but he still held her. He reached up and caressed her cheek, looking deep into her red and swollen eyes, and he saw her remarkable strength shinning through them.
She sniffed. She was gazing back into his eyes, and what she saw there made her heart skip a beat and her knees go weak.
"Better?" he asked.
Mac nodded. "Yes," she whispered, "Thank you."
Harm bent his head toward hers, and she tipped her face up to him. Their lips were just inches apart when they heard pounding footsteps from across the cemetery. They broke apart guiltily, each feeling the pang of separation.
They both turned in the direction of the footsteps. Brumby, a furious look on his face, was briskly walking toward them. Bud was only a few steps behind Brumby, and a man Mac had never seen before followed them both. Mac could tell by his suit that he was a man of some profession-doctor or lawyer or some sort.
"Can I help you, sir?" Harm asked when Mac was unable to find her own voice.
"This is none of your concern," Brumby spat out. "Sarah, explain to this man that you and I are affianced."
Mac's voice, which had been halting before, was now completely absent. Not because she didn't want to speak, but because Bud spoke first.
"Mac," Bud cut in, "This is Dalton Lowne; he's the executor of AJ's will."
Mac turned her angry eyes from Brumby to look at Lowne. This was the man AJ had picked? Suddenly, her voice returned. "Excuse me?"
"Miss Mackenzie, I am from a Law Firm in Washington," Lowne said, "I am the executor."
"Very well," she said curtly. "Let's head back up to the farm. We can discuss everything there."
Everyone began to walk out of the cemetery except Brumby. "Sarah, I insist that you declare our engagement," he said dangerously, and everyone turned to look at him.
Mac's mind was now running full tilt. "No," she said in a tone that was equally dangerous. "You can't bully me into marrying you. Not anymore." With that she turned on her heal and walked out of the cemetery leaving Brumby in her wake.
The remaining four of them walked back to the farm, and when they were comfortably settled in the parlor, Mr. Lowne began to explain the will. "You see," he said once he'd read it to them, "Property can't pass to a woman, so I'm afraid it'll have to be sold."
"It?" Harm asked.
"The farm," Mac answered, "I'll have to sell Sweetfern."
Harm didn't know whether to feel sorry for the fact that she would have to leave the farm that she had made her home, or to be ecstatic that now Brumby would have no leverage over her.
"The hands," Mac thought suddenly, "What will become of them? They don't have enough money to start over."
"Mr. Chegwidden made provisions for them," Mr. Lowne said, "They're all to receive one hundred dollars plus travelling expenses. That way they'll be able to move on and find another place to make a living."
Mac put her hand over her heart and said a silent prayer of thanks for AJ's forethought. "When does the farm need to sell?"
"As soon as possible," Lowne told her. "You don't have to remain on the property until it is sold. You and the hands are free to leave anytime before the sale. I'll remain and finalize the sale."
Mac nodded slowly, then shook her head. "Mr. Loan."
"It's Lowne. like 'clown'," he corrected.
"Mr. Lowne," she repeated, "I need some time to think. Would you be able to return tomorrow?"
Lowne collected his papers. "When would be convenient?"
"Mid-day," she said. "Harm will show you out."
The two men left the room as Mac crossed to the window and looked out over the porch. This farm and its people had become her life, and now, because of some stupid law, she couldn't remain here. She was so caught up in her anger that she didn't notice Harm return.
Harm walked quietly into the graveyard; he didn't want to disturb Mac, who stood alone at AJ's gravesite. It had been seven days since the soldiers had brought him home to be buried, and two days since his funeral. Mac had closed herself off to he crowd of people who had come to pay their last respects. She's hardly eaten, let alone spoken, since AJ had been brought home. She was no longer the vivid woman he had first met. Her completely black attire was a stark contrast to the beautiful sunny day. As he drew closer he could see that her eyes were newly red and swollen.
"Mac?" he asked softly.
Her head jerked up at the sound of his voice. "Harm," she answered, and all of a sudden Mac's chest felt tight and new tears sprang into her eyes. Harm closed the distance between them and enveloped her in his arms. Her shoulders shook gently as she cried out all of the tension of the last few days. She didn't know why but she felt as if only now she could let go.
Harm rubbed her back as he held her tightly to him. Her tears slowly dried, but he still held her. He reached up and caressed her cheek, looking deep into her red and swollen eyes, and he saw her remarkable strength shinning through them.
She sniffed. She was gazing back into his eyes, and what she saw there made her heart skip a beat and her knees go weak.
"Better?" he asked.
Mac nodded. "Yes," she whispered, "Thank you."
Harm bent his head toward hers, and she tipped her face up to him. Their lips were just inches apart when they heard pounding footsteps from across the cemetery. They broke apart guiltily, each feeling the pang of separation.
They both turned in the direction of the footsteps. Brumby, a furious look on his face, was briskly walking toward them. Bud was only a few steps behind Brumby, and a man Mac had never seen before followed them both. Mac could tell by his suit that he was a man of some profession-doctor or lawyer or some sort.
"Can I help you, sir?" Harm asked when Mac was unable to find her own voice.
"This is none of your concern," Brumby spat out. "Sarah, explain to this man that you and I are affianced."
Mac's voice, which had been halting before, was now completely absent. Not because she didn't want to speak, but because Bud spoke first.
"Mac," Bud cut in, "This is Dalton Lowne; he's the executor of AJ's will."
Mac turned her angry eyes from Brumby to look at Lowne. This was the man AJ had picked? Suddenly, her voice returned. "Excuse me?"
"Miss Mackenzie, I am from a Law Firm in Washington," Lowne said, "I am the executor."
"Very well," she said curtly. "Let's head back up to the farm. We can discuss everything there."
Everyone began to walk out of the cemetery except Brumby. "Sarah, I insist that you declare our engagement," he said dangerously, and everyone turned to look at him.
Mac's mind was now running full tilt. "No," she said in a tone that was equally dangerous. "You can't bully me into marrying you. Not anymore." With that she turned on her heal and walked out of the cemetery leaving Brumby in her wake.
The remaining four of them walked back to the farm, and when they were comfortably settled in the parlor, Mr. Lowne began to explain the will. "You see," he said once he'd read it to them, "Property can't pass to a woman, so I'm afraid it'll have to be sold."
"It?" Harm asked.
"The farm," Mac answered, "I'll have to sell Sweetfern."
Harm didn't know whether to feel sorry for the fact that she would have to leave the farm that she had made her home, or to be ecstatic that now Brumby would have no leverage over her.
"The hands," Mac thought suddenly, "What will become of them? They don't have enough money to start over."
"Mr. Chegwidden made provisions for them," Mr. Lowne said, "They're all to receive one hundred dollars plus travelling expenses. That way they'll be able to move on and find another place to make a living."
Mac put her hand over her heart and said a silent prayer of thanks for AJ's forethought. "When does the farm need to sell?"
"As soon as possible," Lowne told her. "You don't have to remain on the property until it is sold. You and the hands are free to leave anytime before the sale. I'll remain and finalize the sale."
Mac nodded slowly, then shook her head. "Mr. Loan."
"It's Lowne. like 'clown'," he corrected.
"Mr. Lowne," she repeated, "I need some time to think. Would you be able to return tomorrow?"
Lowne collected his papers. "When would be convenient?"
"Mid-day," she said. "Harm will show you out."
The two men left the room as Mac crossed to the window and looked out over the porch. This farm and its people had become her life, and now, because of some stupid law, she couldn't remain here. She was so caught up in her anger that she didn't notice Harm return.
