painful. She was too embarrassed to say what was wrong, but Emma could see what the problem was. Emma rolled several dishtowels into a ring. She placed the ring of cloth in a chair, and had Sarah sit on that, taking the pressure off of her wounds. That was a big improvement.
She had some tea and toast. Just being up and about helped her feel better. She pulled her courage together and asked, “Is Towzer dead?” Hixson and Emma nodded in mute unison.
“That was a good dog. I’ll miss her very much. She was a fine and devoted friend to me.” Tears filled her eyes, but Sarah fought them. She was done asking questions. It would be several days before she could bring herself to speak again.
Sarah had no words for the torment she felt. There was nothing to say: no words of comfort could be found. She had lost her life, as she knew it. He beloved friend Towzer was gone. In her heart, she was sure she had lost Hixson, too. He would never want her now.
Emma and Caleb said goodbye, and Emma left Hixson with a long list of things to remember to do. Her duty was so severely divided, and she left with a terrible ache. She knew that Hixson would do everything possible for her friend. That made the going a little easier.
Sarah was troubled by excruciating headaches and double vision for several weeks. It would be more weeks yet before her trembling would cease. She left her hair free now, the scars on her head too tender to be bound in a kerchief.
She felt broken. Her eyes filled at the smallest thing, and she felt silly to be so emotional. She was easily startled, readily frightened now. Her nights were uneasy; finding sleep was difficult when she was still in so much pain. If she did finally sleep, there were the nightmares. She suspected those might never stop.
Hixson wrote a letter home, to let his family know he had arrived safely. He did not go into details, but he did tell them Sarah had been hurt. He would stay on here a spell to help.
July 28th, 1865 Spotsylvania County, Virginia
When Sarah improved, Hixson moved his bed out on the porch. It would have been more proper for him to sleep in the barn. He chose to sleep on the porch where he could hear Sarah if she needed him in the night. He didn’t exactly sleep much; he mostly lay with his eyes open, thinking. Sarah’s nightmares were frequent, and fearsome. Between his active mind and her troubled dreams, it was not a restful time.
Hixson took over the chores. It was hard to manage for Sarah, her one arm still in a sling, but she insisted on trying. She made breakfast, but he brought in the wood and water she needed to cook with. After breakfast, Sarah took the first real bath she’d been able to have since the attack. Hixson heated the water and filled the tub, then left so she could have her privacy.
The warm water felt wonderful, and the soap helped her feel like she was washing away the smell the men had left on her. There wasn’t enough soap in the country to wash away the memory. Looking at herself, anywhere, made her want to cry. She looked so damaged.
Dressing was difficult, but she managed it. Then she went outside with her brush, to sit in the sun and try to get the tangles out of her hair. Her hair was a snarled mess. With one arm disabled, it was a challenge to avoid the wounds on her head. Any touch of the brush to the lump on her head or the tear in her scalp was sharply painful.
Hixson saw her struggle and went to help. He stood behind her, gently brushing the knots from her hair. Her hair was silky and wonderful to touch. He had never brushed a woman’s hair before. It seemed like quite an intimate thing to do, and Hixson soon found himself tightening. But then he noticed tears on her face.
“I’m sorry! Am I hurting you?” He stopped brushing at once.
“No, you’re not hurting me. It’s just… I can’t remember the last time I felt so cared for. I’m silly to cry. I’m sorry. Please don’t stop.”
He continued brushing her hair, deeply moved by her reaction to this small kindness. This was not a woman who expected to be the center of attention. She seemed genuinely surprised by any small thing done for her. She gave so freely to others, and yet she expected absolutely nothing from anyone. She regarded any kind act as a true and generous gift.
Hixson finished the job, and sat down on the porch step. Sarah tried to check her tumultuous emotions. She was glad to have Hixson with her. He was a very kind and thoughtful man. But Sarah was deeply ashamed. It was not fitting, all that he must have seen. She could not figure out his motives.
“Why did you come back?”
“Don’t you have any idea?” Hixson asked.
Sarah shook her head.
“I came back because I needed to see you.” Hixson continued. “I came back because I love you.” he finally said, face to his lap.
Before she would give in to the fluttering in her heart, she had to ask. “And now? After all that has happened? How do you feel now?”
So quietly that she had to strain to hear him, Hixson said “I think I love you more than ever, if that’s possible.”
The sweetness of his words shattered the barrier she tried to keep around her emotions. By letting in the love in his words, she let everything else out. The torment and trauma finally overwhelmed her, and Sarah sobbed. It started as ordinary crying, and soon became a crushing, agonizing breakdown. Sarah fell utterly apart. She sank, too broken to hold herself in a chair.
Hixson went to her at once, and held her as she cried out her distress. Sitting on the floor of the porch, he rocked her gently and let her cry. He cried, too, his heart aching for her. Hixson felt her tears wet his neck, running down to soak the collar of his shirt. His hand was damp from stroking her cheek.
The tears subsided, and Sarah came back to herself. “I’m broken, Hixson. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel put back together. Where do I start? What do you do with the ruins of a person?”
“You feel broken now, Sarah, but you’ll heal. You have a strength in you that beats anything I ever saw.”
“What did I do to deserve this? Why would anyone want to do this to me? I can’t understand.”
“There’s no reason to it. Just wicked, hateful men, being even more evil to show off to each other, I guess.”
Sarah paled and sobbed softly, choking out the question, “You knew it was more than one? How could you tell?”
“I just could, I guess. That one you hit with maul, well, we buried him. I could tell Towzer had bit another one.” Hixson was hesitant to ask what was on his mind.
“I killed that man?” Sarah asked. “Wish I would have hit a few more of them.”
“How many were there?” He was embarrassed to ask, but he couldn’t help himself.
Sarah told him the story, without getting too detailed. It was humiliating to talk about, but she felt she must. He must be wondering, she knew, but she also thought he needed to know. There was no other way for him to know if he could still love her.
Contrary to Hixson’s hopes, the knock on the head was the last thing that happened. She was very much awake through the whole ordeal.
She felt like she was dying inside with each word, but she told him. In Hixson’s opinion, what had happened was torture, plain and simple. Six men came to her farm with the intention of doing great harm. She killed one right away, and the remaining five terrorized her for over 24 hours.
Hixson was sure those brutal men were pleased to find such a beautiful woman alone and undefended. As Sarah told him the awful story, tears rolled unchecked down his cheeks, too. Hixson was not normally a man for weeping. He didn’t hide his feelings, but he seldom wept. It seemed to him that the only thing he had done in the last weeks was cry. He was not ashamed to cry. What had happened there was a tragedy the likes of which he had never encountered. He had thought Sarah strong before. After hearing the whole story, he realized he had underestimated her. If an ordinary person had suffered what Sarah had, it would have broken their mind he was sure. He was convinced that anybody else would have either died or gone mad.
The gruesome story was told, Sarah waited. What would he say now? Now that he knew the whole of it, woul
d he feel differently?
“I doubt I’d have a lived through it.” He pulled her closer to him and said, “I’m so sorry that happened to you. You are a strong woman to have survived. ”The love in his eyes as he looked into hers filled her heart.
Hixson wiped the tears from her face, and said, “I knew I was in love with you from the first moment you looked at me. It felt like you were the first person in the world who ever really saw me.”
She answered, “I fell in love with you when I wrote your letter home. There you were with your insides shot up, and you were worried about your sister’s beaux. I am so pleased you came back to me. I wish I would have been whole when you did.”
“I wish I had been here sooner, to keep you from that.” His voice was in tatters, he was so moved.
“There must be a lesson in it somewhere. Everything that happens, happens for a reason…if I can endure the teaching. I’d not live through that lesson again.”
Hixson clutched her to him and held tight. “I will never let such a thing happen to you again. I should have been here sooner, so you wouldn’t have had to go through that. If you’ll have me, I want to be the one to protect you. Always.” He bent down and kissed her, unmindful of the cuts on her mouth. She paid them no mind either, and kissed him back.
August 10th, 1865-- Spotsylvania County, Virginia
Hixson had been trying to talk Sarah into traveling