Like I said, I've been cleaning out my old documents. This one has been sitting around for over two years. It was probably supposed to be in The Home Front, but for some reason, I didn't add it.

Anywho, follows the continuity of Journey of a Little Deer.

Bullfrog, North Dakota

January 1943

Rebecca Carter was spitting mad. A horrendous snowstorm had swept through the county and it hadn't let up for nearly five days. It was dangerous to go out, so the Carters were cooped up indoors. The only person allowed outside was Dad because he had to make sure the animals were okay. Rebecca would have gone with him, but he had firmly told her to stay put.

So she was stuck inside—not even allowed to step out onto the porch. Stuck with a bunch of teary-eyed, weeping, and wailing women folk. She couldn't stand it.

Laying in her top bunk, Rebecca growled and tossed her dime magazine over the side, unintentionally hitting her sister, Julia, who was sitting in her own, single bed across the room.

"Ow!" Julia cried. Rebecca looked over to see her sister massaging her forehead. "Rebecca!"

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Cry about it, why don't you?" she groused. "At least it's a good reason."

"Rebecca!" Julia exclaimed, offended, as she sat up.

"Oh, what?!" Rebecca spat. "You've all been crying for two months! I can't take it anymore! I even saw Dad crying. Dad. It was pathetic!"

"Rebecca May Carter!" Julia sounded scandalized.

"Oh pbbbth," Rebecca said, blowing a raspberry. "I'm the only one with any brains in this whole house! Wait until I tell Andy how pathetic you all are!"

"Reb—"

"Is that all you know how to say? Geez!" Rebecca swung her legs over the side of her bunk and jumped down. She landed with a thud and then punted a stuffed bear that happened to be on the floor at her sister.

Julia smacked it out of the air before it could hit her face. "Rebecca, you really need to just acc—"

Rebecca took a long, deep breath and then blew the biggest raspberry she could muster. Julia shielded herself from the onslaught of spittle. When Rebecca ran out of steam, she turned on her heel and marched out of the room.

"Real mature!" she heard Julia holler after her.

"Aw, shove it," Rebecca muttered under her breath and she stomped down the stairs.

"Rebecca, is that you?" Mother called from the kitchen. "You're going to bring the whole house down if you keep stomping like that."

Rebecca rolled her eyes again—they had been getting quite the workout over the past few months—and swung over the banister, riding that down instead. She wasn't scared of her mother. What was she going to do? Take a wooden spoon to her rear? She was fifteen years old for crying out loud! But, just in case, she decided to slip gently off the railing instead of jumping.

Her sister, Alice, was at the piano, playing a sad little tune. Rebecca let out an exasperated sigh. Still mourning? The army had sent the (wrongful) news nearly two months ago!

"What are you doing here?" Rebecca sneered. "Weren't you supposed to get married and be out of here last month?" Imagine putting off a wedding because of an army screwup. Of course, as far as Rebecca was concerned, any excuse not to get married was a good excuse. Especially when you were going to marry a flat-footed Kraut like Johan Müller.

Alice just looked over with doleful eyes and Rebecca felt a stab of guilt. Alice was the sweetest and gentlest of the clan, and she didn't deserve an ounce of derision from anyone.

Rebecca pushed her conscience aside. She wasn't in the mood to apologize. So, instead, she retreated to the dining room. Mary was there, working on some sort of sewing project. The youngest Carter had been awfully distant over the last few weeks. And though they were opposites in almost every way, Rebecca did like to spend time with her. If only Mary would come to her senses, then they could have some fun again.

"Hey," Rebecca said, pulling on Mary's pigtail as she came behind her. "What you working on?" she asked, leaning over her shoulder.

"Oh. I'm just finally getting around to sewing the gold star on," Mary said quietly, holding her project up a little. Rebecca recognized it as the Service Flag that had been hanging in their window. Sure enough, Mary was covering the blue star with a slightly smaller gold one. "Every time Mother starts on it she cries, so I thought—"

"Andy's going to be ticked when he finds out," Rebecca said.

Her younger sister sighed and shook her head. "He's not going to find out," Mary said flatly. "He's dead. And all your talk about him still being alive is driving everyone nuts."

"I'm driving everyone else nuts?! I'm the only one making a lick of sense!" Rebecca declared.

"Denial isn't going to bring him back."

"Oh, what do you know? You're just a kid!" Rebecca said, pulling on Mary's pigtail again.

Mary scowled and pulled her braid out of Rebecca's hand. "I'm smarter than you. And maybe if you spent more time in the real world instead of reading those dumb pulp fiction novels and dime magazines, you'd know that people don't just come back from the dead," Mary said contemptuously.

Rebecca scrunched up her face and grunted. "And maybe if you read a dictionary once in a while, you'd know that 'presumed' means it's just an assumption, not fact!"

"Would you stop? Just stop!" Mary cried. "You're just making it harder for everyone!"

Rebecca opened her mouth to argue when the telephone cut her off. Knowing she really couldn't win a verbal argument with Mary anyway, she stuck out her tongue and went to go answer the phone. Mother beat her to it. With a shrug, Rebecca went to the stove and filched a piece of meat from one of the pans. She popped it in her mouth and immediately regretted it. Her jaw went slack as she panted quickly to cool off the food even as it burned her tongue. She gave up and let it drop out of her mouth and into her hand.

"Just tell me what it says, Karl," she heard mother say warily. Rebecca arched an eyebrow as she popped the meat into her mouth again. Mother had to be talking to the postmaster in Crabapple Junction. Maybe there was some piece of urgent news that couldn't be delivered in the storm. Maybe a letter from Andy. That would show everyone.

Mother suddenly sucked in a breath and brought a hand to her heart. "Oh God. Are you sure?" she asked, her voice shaking. Rebecca could see tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "Are you sure?" she repeated, her voice getting higher and on the verge of hysteria. "Oh God! Oh God! Karl, are you sure?!"

"What? What is it, Mother?" Rebecca asked impatiently. Mother's voice had drawn in Mary and Alice, who watched her expectantly.

"Yes. Yes, of course," Mother said. "Thank you." She set down the phone and promptly started sobbing. The girls exchanged confused looks. What was going on?

"Mother?" Mary said, tentatively reaching out to touch Mother's arm.

Mother sucked in another breath and wiped her eyes with the skirt of her apron. "He's alive. Oh God, he's alive."

"Who?" Alice asked.

"Andrew," Mother replied. "There was a telegram. He's in Germany. He's a POW. There's even a letter the Red Cross forwarded from him."

Rebecca felt her heart stop. "I…" She couldn't seem to find her voice. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I… I told you!" she exclaimed. "I told you all! Did any of you listen?! No! But I told you, dammit!"

"Rebecca!"

"Not now!"

"Yes, now!" Rebecca said, disregarding her family's protest. "I told you! All your stupid tears... You all thought… But I told you!"

Before anyone could say anything else, Rebecca turned and ran from the kitchen and up the stairs. On the way up, she passed Julia, who was coming down and asking if she was hearing things right. Rebecca ignored her and pushed into their bedroom. She slammed the door shut and dove into the closet where she huddled into the corner.

She knew it. No one believed her. She hadn't even really believed herself. But she had been right. He was alive. And the realization made her suddenly start to shake as every emotion she had bottled up came spilling out. And for the first time since her brother had been shot down, Rebecca cried.