Mac could hear the steps getting closer and closer; she heard the leaves crumbling beneath the feet. Her every sense was piqued. Suddenly, there was a small hiccup from behind her. She closed her eyes and prayed that she was the only one who'd heard it. But the steps had stopped. The air was filled with tension. The steps began again, only this time faster and louder. Mac reached for the small knife she carried tucked into the waistband of her skirt; she held it ready.

The steps were nearing her hiding place. At the last possible moment, she threw herself from behind the tree and toward the attacker. "Stop!" he cried as he twisted away from her thrust. "Mac, its Harm!"

Mac let the knife fall at her feet, and she put her hand on her chest. She said a small prayer of thanks before confronting Harm. "What the hell were you doing sneaking up on us like that?" she demanded. Bud and Harriet had risen to their feet after hearing Harm's voice and they watched as Mac stood toe to toe with him.

"I thought you were Brumby's men," he defended, "I didn't mean to frighten you like you that." He patted her arm, but almost immediately his facial expression turned to stone. "We don't have much time," he said bluntly, "We've got to put more distance between us and them."

Mac nodded. "I know where we can go," she said, and they took off into the woods.

Hours later they came into a clearing in the trees. The ground formed a slight hill and there was a run down old cabin on the top of it. They could hear a river somewhere near by. Mac led them up to the door of the cabin.

"What is this place?" Harriet asked shakily.

Mac pushed open the door. "This is where I grew up," she said without feeling. Inside the cabin there was an iron stove in the corner, an old oak table, two walls of bottles, jars and dried herbs, and large double bed in the far corner. There was a loft above them. The whole place had a dry musty smell, telltale of the fact that no one had been there in years, but that everything was clean, if a bit dusty.

"There are quilts and mattresses in the loft," Mac told Bud, "You and Harriet should sleep up there with little AJ."

Bud was about to protest, when Harm concurred, "You carried that little guy all the way here. You rest, and we'll keep watch."

Bud nodded. If it had been an order from any other man Bud would have refused, but in the last few weeks he'd come to respect Harm. He allowed Harriet to climb the ladder into the loft first before he followed. Mac pulled one of the chairs from the table and sat down. Harm stood at the window and looked out into the woods.

"Do you think they'll track us?" he asked Mac in a hushed tone.

She shook her head. "They've never tracked anyone," she told him, then with a rueful smile she added, "Then again, Brumby never wanted to marry any of the others."

Harm gave sarcastic snort. "It's too dark for them to pick up our trail in the woods tonight, but in the morning it'll be all to easy."

"We'll leave well before dawn," Mac said as she rubbed her neck. "By the time the sun comes up, we will be at the next station."

"Mac I don't think a train station." Harm began, but then he understood what she was talking about.

"We'll meet with the conductor and see what news there is," she continued, "We can stay there until it quiets down, or if all's well, we'll head north."

Harm nodded, but he was still watching out the window. "I need to know the troop movements," he said finally, "I'll join up with them from the next station."

"I suppose you're right," Mac said, more to herself than to him, "Harriet and Bud won't go North; they'll go to Florida. You'll go back to your regiment, and I'll carrying on to the north alone."

Harm felt his heart break at her tone. "Sarah," he whispered, "If you ask it of me, I would continue north with you."

Mac's head shot up, and she looked at him in sheer disbelief. She was deeply touched by his offer, for she knew what it cost him. She shook her head, shaking her hair loose. "Harm, I would never ask you to."

Harm let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He hadn't realized that he was willing to abandon his duty for her until he'd said it. He still wasn't sure how he felt about her refusing his offer though. He did not want to be parted from her.

"Harm, we should try to rest," Mac said quietly, "At least for a few hours. The next station is about six miles north west of here."

Harm shook his head. "No, you rest. I'll keep watch." He turned toward the window so that Mac would be able to climb into bed. She let her hair down and ran her fingers through the tangled mass of brown waves. She slipped out of her black woolen mourning dress. A moment later she was standing in only her white linen camisole and heavy cotton pantaloons and feeling a little exposed. She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and slid between the blankets on the bed in the corner.

"I'm all covered up now, Mr. Rabb," she teased, and she was rewarded when he turned his face toward her. There was a smile there that she'd come to love; it took her breath away.

He lowered his eyes from hers, and smiled inwardly. "You should sleep," he said, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice. Mac sighed, and rolled onto her side. In almost no time she was asleep. Harm tried to keep his attention focused outside, but over the several hours he kept watch, he couldn't help watching her. Her chest rose softly with every breath she took, but she didn't sleep quietly. Her eyebrows were knitted together and she tossed and turned. When the few hours had passed, Harm was glad he could wake her.

"Sarah," he whispered as he gently touched her shoulder.

"No. please." she mumbled still half asleep.

Harm took his hand back, and Mac quieted. But he knew he must wake her. "Sarah, it's time."

"No," she said loudly as she shot up in bed. She'd barely opened her eyes, but she threw a swift punch and caught Harm across the jaw. He staggered backward and fell over a chair. The noise shook Mac completely awake. "Oh, Harm," she said her face contorting in regret, "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize it was you."

"Who did you think it was?" he asked, holding his jaw.

"My father," she said, looking away from him.

Harm's hand fell to his side as understanding dawned on him. He'd heard her mention her childhood very little in the time that he had known her, and now he knew why. Her father had-- "Sarah, did you father beat you?"

She nodded. "It was just after my mother left," she said, then her face hardened, "But before I could fit back. Soon after that, I left. That's when AJ took me in."

Harm simply stared at her. Every time he learned a little bit more about her, his respect for her grew. A lesser person would have sunk down, but Mac rose to meet every challenge with determination. He shook himself out of his thoughts as Mac pushed back the quilts. He turned just as she stood up. Mac dressed as Harm climbed the ladder and woke the Roberts.