Jan 13, 1864 Sweetfern Farm Kirkwood, MS

Mac stood on the porch watching the sun set as a wagon rolled out of the drive. Her dark hair hung loosely down her back, cascading over her

She'd spent so many months living on this farm, caring for and about the people who worked on it. And now they were all leaving. Bobbi and Sturgis were already gone. Hannah would be leaving. Mac smiled inwardly as she recalled how Hannah had reacted to the news: "Thank the Lawd," she cried, "Charles, I'm comin' nort'."

Mac asked who Charles was and it turned out that Hannah had a brother in Maine. Mac had never known that. She wished Hannah well, and Hannah ran up to her quarters and packed her things. They had hugged and kissed goodbye just a moment ago. And now, Hannah rode away in the wagon, along with most of the other hands.

Mac waved, and they all waved back at her. Harm came up behind her and put his good arm around her shoulders. They watched until the wagon turned the bend, and then they just stood for a few minutes watching the sun as it dipped below the trees.

"I didn't think they'd be gone so soon," Mac said as she turned away from Harm and sat down on the porch swing. Harm didn't move, but continued to stare toward the west. "They're all so excited. They've all set plans, and they're on their way. But you," she said, looking up at him, "What will you do now that you're almost healed?"

Harm hung his head and didn't turn to face her. "Harm?" she asked worriedly and went o him. She put her hand on his arm and tried to look him in the eye, but he turned away. "What is it?"

"Mac, I have to leave," he finally said.

"I know," she said sadly, trying to maneuver around him, "We all do."

Harm turned and looked straight at her. "I'm going back to my regiment."

Mac nodded slowly. "I know," she said.

"You know?" he said and a worry line formed between his eyebrows.

"Yes, I know," she told him, "You don't seem like the type to shrug off your duty. You must have missed them."

Harm nodded. "Yes, I have," he paused and laughed at himself, "I didn't think you'd take this so well."

Mac smiled at him. "Well, I'm familiar with duty," she joked, but then she turned serious.

Harm saw the wistful look in her eyes as they danced over the farm again. His gaze followed hers and he was reminded of something. "My grandmother has a farm like this in Pennsylvania," he said.

"Really?" Mac asked distractedly.

"Yes, its in Bellesview," he went on, "I spent a lot of time there after-- I finished university." He finished quietly after pausing. He didn't want to add to Mac's troubles by telling her of his own. Mac turned to look at him, a knowing look in her eyes, but she didn't push him. He continued, "If you ever need-wait, what's that?"

He was looking over her shoulder, into the setting sun, and Mac turned around to look. As she squinted the distant fuzzy shapes came into focus. Her eyes widened with recognition.

"We must get everyone out of here," she ordered, as she ran toward the door.

Harm's eyes widened in understanding as he recognized what Mac had. "Oh, my God," he whispered.

"Harriet, Bud," Mac yelled as soon as she entered the house.

"What's wrong?" Bud asked as he hurried out of the library. He ran after Mac who had run down the hall and into the kitchen. She was hastily wrapping an gray wool shawl around her shoulders. "Mac what's going on?"

"They're coming," she said urgently, "Get Harriet and little AJ and get out. I have to warn the hands."

"No," Harm protested, "I'll warn the hands. You stay with the Roberts."

"No, they're my responsibility," Mac argued, just as Harriet came into the room. She shared a single glance with Bud and immediately wrapped the last remaining shawl around her own shoulders and over little AJ.

"Mac, I can do it twice as fast as you can," Harm countered.

"They're my friends," Mac said as she strode toward the door.

Harm reached out and grabbed her arm. "Please, go with Harriet and Bud, Sarah," he pleaded. He caught Mac's eyes with his own, hoping to convey that he needed her to listen to him, and do as he asked of her. She understood.

"We'll make for the eastern woods," she told him, but her eyes said so much more, "The hands will guide you." Her eyes brimmed with tears, but she blinked them back, needing to be strong. "Good luck," she whispered.

Harm reached out and cupped her cheek with his hand. He wanted so badly to take her in his arms, but there wasn't time. "Good luck," he a whispered, and then he turned on his heel and ran off toward the hands' cottages.

Mac watched him for a moment, then she turned to Harriet and Bud. "Come on." They ran as fast as they could, hindered by the women's skirts and baby AJ. After a few hundred feet Bud took AJ from Harriet and they made better time. They were safely in the cover of the woods, when they heard the first shouts from the gang. In the twilight they could see the growing light of the torches they carried.

Mac looked urgently toward the hands' cottages. She could just make out Harm's tall, slim figure among the people who were running away. Mac's heart raced as she watched them. The gang of torch bearers was closing in on the hands. Harm was trying to hurry them along, but some of them were old and weak.

Harriet let out a scream, and Mac shifted her gaze toward the house. It was ablaze. The porch and library had been engulfed in flame. The tears Mac had been fighting slid down her cheeks as she thought of all the hours she had spent among those precious books. Her despair turned to rage when she recognized the man standing in front of the roaring fire-Mic Brumby.

"You bastard," she seethed. She took a few angry steps forward, but Bud jumped ahead of her.

"No, Mac you can't," he told her, "He'll kill you, or worse."

Mac's furry burned inside her with a heat that rivaled the flames engulfing her home. But then she saw little AJ, his scared eyes looked to her for strength. She had to get him, and his parents to safety, so she buried her rage. "This way," she said harshly, the rage not as gone as she had hoped.

Harriet and Bud followed quickly behind her as they all scurried through the branches and shrubs. They ran as far as Harriet's stamina allowed her to go and then they paused, at the base of towering tree. Their breath came fast and ragged. Mac stepped away from Harriet and Bud and listened. The thundering sounds coming from the direction of the farm drowned out what Mac was listening for. Then, she heard it-footsteps.

"Get down," she whispered to Bud and Harriet, and they crouched and waited.