Read Tara's Forgotten Son Page 8


  Chapter 8

  The new planting season was almost like a new beginning, turning the earth, readying it for a small seed that would take root and begin a new life, and that was exactly how he felt he had turned his life around. The old, rank dirt was buried below the fresh soil that had been turned, and in this fresh soil he had sown the seeds of renewed relationships and thought processes. He viewed his life in a new way, and over the next few years, as he turned the earth, leading the horse through the hard, red clay, reclaiming the land, he examined his own soil, throwing out clumps, weeds, and snares. He had recently turned fourteen, and he had seen and experienced true stability. No dramatic entries, torturous emotional quandaries, or heart-wrenching sickness and death. He led a peaceful life in the country, on the land that he loved, with a family that he cherished, beside a girl he had grown to adore.

  He rode all over the county on Silver and often stopped by the Fontaine plantation to pay a visit to Emily and her family. He had grown quite fond of Emily’s brothers and her father, and often spent time with them. He shared any tips he had learned from Will about making the cotton produce better quality, and they were sharing the secrets of their own underground industry. Of course, they had no idea that his true intent was to spend time with Emily, for when they were around he was completely cordial with her. Just being in her presence was lovely. She had grown into a strikingly beautiful young lady, and Will often dreamt of the day when she would become the lady of Tara. He dared not share these dreams with her, but he thought of them as he roamed the countryside on his mustang, which was losing its dappled color, just as Rhett had predicted.

  Ella had grown to be a pretty young lady, tall and wiry, with long, straight brown hair that Suellen often threatened to cut short as she dealt with the long thin strands that slithered out of the braids and became a tangled mess. Wade did not look at her closely very often, but he had noticed that her eyes had become a beautiful hazel color with combinations of brown and green, and sometimes changed in shade according to the color of dress she chose to wear. Being the oldest girl of the house with her three younger female cousins, Ella had learned how to push her way around, and regained the self-confidence that she lost as a young child. She followed Aunt Suellen around, learning how to become a lady of the big house on a large plantation, taking in all the responsibilities of a wife and mother, carefully planning her own future keeping her own eternal secrets, the secrets of a young girl longing for their own life.

  Just as Ella followed Suellen, Wade kept a close eye on Will, studying his work on the farm as well as his life in the house. Without a father, Wade had never seen his own father, and he decided that he must be prepared to run his household smoothly, especially if he expected to win Emily’s heart. He watched Will rise early to work in the fields, planting cotton, clearing land, and planting more. After a long day’s work, he barely made it into the house before four girls ran to him, hugging him closely. He pecked each child on her head, then sent them giggling, comparing the amount of dirt that had rubbed off on their pretty, clean dresses. He walked straight to Suellen, gave her a delicate kiss, and whispered a secret, the secret to be shared between lovers, then she playfully swatted him with her dishtowel, sending him to clean up before supper.

  Throughout supper, Will would eat slowly, allowing time for each child to tell him about her day, responding with facial gestures, and words of laughter or sadness, sending looks to Suellen at the other end of the table. Finally, at the end of the long day, children were tucked into bed, and the rest of the evening was left for the two of them, Suellen with her sewing, and Will whittling as he listened to Suellen talk about her day. The closeness between them was only apparent to those who cared to pay attention, detecting looks across the room, unreadable glances that could only be interpreted by the other, gentle touches as he held her chair and supported her as they ascended the stairs to retire at the end of the day. After years of marriage, they were in love, and Wade watched their every move, knowing that he would do whatever it took to imitate their moves and create a similar life for Emily.

  The sun was shining brightly as Wade gathered his courage, riding Silver through the fields to Emily. He slowed to a trot, listening to the mating calls of the birds, surveying the land, making plans for the next acreage to be cleared, and formulating the words that he rely on to inspire Emily to promise her future to him. He saw her working in the garden, and he dismounted his horse to stroll to her side, smiling broadly.

  Emily spotted him immediately, and her heart skipped a beat as he swaggered across the lawn. His height was deceiving, and he looked far older than his fourteen years, with his wiry build disguising his strength. His tan face and sun bleached hair complemented his brown eyes which danced with mischievousness whenever he was near her. He was truly a handsome young man, and she loved being near him for he was kind, gentle, and strong. She felt safe when he was near, a feeling that she did not usually have the privilege of experiencing. She smiled and waved a he came near, gesturing to him to come inspect her newest crops of potatoes and onions.

  He placed his hand on her back and she turned her head quickly so he didn’t see her flinch with pain. “Hey! I am glad to see you. Do you think I planted these deep enough?” Emily questioned.

  Wade bent down to inspect her work, still grinning, “These look great.” He stood up and grabbed her hand, “There is something I want to talk to you about. Come sit with me for a few moments.”

  Emily held his hand, squeezing firmly, then let go, “Actually, I need to talk to you, too, before Pa and my brothers get home. Wade, they want me to quit school. I am not required to go, and it is more important that I learn about how to be a wife and a mother. I am going to spend more time with Sally. She has a new baby, so I am going to help her, and learn how to take care of a house. They are preparing me for marriage, I guess.” Emily ducked her head, embarrassed.

  Wade paused for a moment, relieved that she had brought up the subject of marriage. “Well, then that is what I will do, too. The law states that this was the last year that I am required to go.” Wade beamed for his plan was falling perfectly into place.

  “No, you have to finish. Your father went to the University and he would have wanted you to be a lawyer like him. It has been your dream since the first day we met and talked. You certainly can’t give up your dreams.”

  “My dreams have changed,” Wade averted his eyes, gaining strength, then looked directly at her, taking in every curve of her face, wanting to remember this moment forever. “My dream is to be at Tara, farming. Will says that he will speak with my mother about leaving Tara to me.” He stopped, taking a deep breath, “Emily, I want you to be by my side at Tara. I know that it is not the grand plantation that it once was, but I believe we can make it beautiful again, raising cotton and children.” Once his voice began tumbling, he had to stop for these were not the words that he had planned. The words were coming out wrong, and he was afraid that she would misread his intentions. “Emily, I love you, and I cannot fathom spending one moment of my life without you. I know we will have to wait a couple of year, but that will give us each time to learn everything we need to run Tara like a fine plantation. I just want you to promise that you will be mine.” He examined her face, trying to discern her reaction to everything he said, but he could see nothing, and before she could reply, he heard a whoop from the fields as her Pa and brothers came sauntering to the house. Wade bade goodbye to them and trotted back to Tara wondering what she would have said if they had not been interrupted. Anxiety churned his stomach hoping that she returned his sentiments.

  That evening after prayers, Wade remained in the sitting room with Will, waiting for the opportunity to approach the subject of school. Finally, Will sat down and picked up the piece of wood he had been whittling the previous evening. He was constructing a new toy for one of the girls.

  “Uncle Will, I have been thinking about school. This is the last year that I have to go, and I don’t fi
gure I need more schooling if I am going to stay here and work on the farm with you.”

  Will didn’t look up from his work, and kept an even voice as he replied, “I reckon that’s a subject you need to take up with your ma.”

  “Well, I would, but we don’t even know where she is. She ran off, so it would seem that this decision should be up to us, don’t you think?”

  “Aunt Suellen got this today,” Will stopped and handed Wade a telegram.

  WILL BE AT TARA stop MEET ME IN JONESBORO stop.

  Wade felt the blood rush from his face, dropping the telegram, weakness wafted through his body, and he had to grip the side of the chair to keep from falling out of it. The world started spinning, and he closed his eyes for a moment, willing his strength to return.

  Will kept an eye on Wade as he watched this rush of emotion, secretly wishing that the look was one of relief, but more aware of the look of fear. “Since she will be here, you can take it up with her.”

  “Oh, Uncle Will, I can’t. She won’t listen to me and she won’t understand. You have to talk to her. You can talk to her on the way from Jonesboro. She listens to you and respects you.”

  “I don’t like meddling in family business, Wade. You know that. This is between you and your ma.”

  Wade began to plead, and Will understood his fear. For many years he had watched the effect that Scarlett had on her children, and he hated to see all their progress ruined with one short visit. She had said nothing about taking the children, but he suddenly felt Wade’s urgency, and against his better judgment, agreed to plead Wade’s case with his mother. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but the boy deserved a break, someone to fight this battle. Wade had learned to stand up for himself, but it would always be a challenge when it came to his mother, for she had a hold on him that only he could break, if and when he was ready.

  From the moment Wade found out that Scarlett was on her way, panic began to take hold of him. Dreams of fire, screaming, and running from confederates tormented him nightly, and he would wake in the morning drenching with sweat. Once again, he was reigned in by terror, and he could not find the strength to break away. His mother would soon be standing on this soil, the place where had finally found peace, and she would take his peace, stability, and the pride that he had finally mustered. Once again, the moment that he had made plans, and found happiness, she would come to destroy it, crumpling every smidgen of self-esteem bit by bit with words of chagrin and humiliation. Her own need to control everyone and everything around her caused a path of destruction that could only be reinforced by her self-centered demands, sabotaging every relationship around her. He must find a way to break away from her, choose his own destiny that did not include her, and reclaim his dignity. He would find a way.

  Upon Scarlett’s arrival, the tone was set for her visit. Wade stood on the porch waiting for her to finish her visit to her parents’ gravesite, and when she finally came to stand on the porch beside him, he realized that he had grown quite a bit taller. In fact, he could see above her, and it gave him a strange feeling of freedom. She could no longer look down on him physically, nor did he have to allow her to compromise his dignity through mental struggles and adversarial remarks. Her entire demeanor had changed and she was no longer bound with strict indignation or authority. She looked peaceful and calm. She had grown older, and her face showed signs of hard work, yet youthfulness still danced in her eyes. Although he could not forgive her for years of heartache that she had wreaked upon him, he could now face her without trembling, and greet her properly, without cowering and being overwrought with hiccups.

  She reached toward him to hug him briefly, and he bravely returned the sentiment, not allowing himself to recoil. Then she went to Ella, who had been hiding behind Suellen. Ella allowed herself to be hugged, never loosening her hold from Suellen, and though she had grown, in her childlike mind, she felt as though she were meeting a stranger. She had not seen her mother in three years, and she had emotionally adopted Aunt Suellen, forgetting Scarlett and the strenuous life that had been theirs. Too much time had passed for restoration that had been Scarlett’s intent, for she did not know her children, and they had no desire to know her. She had become a passing painful memory that could only be conjured up by her presence, and they both secretly hoped that she would not remain long, disturbing their new found lives that they had learned to cherish far more than they had ever loved their life with her.

  The bickering between Scarlett and Suellen began almost immediately, as it had since they were young children, and did not stop until the moment Scarlett decided to leave. They bickered constantly over the children, the house, the farm, and even the way Suellen had chosen the new décor. Nothing suited Scarlett. She had expected to return to a house of lovely memories to be shared with her children, but everything had changed and it did not satisfy her thirst for quiet reminiscence. She had grown away from her home, and although this would always be her home, she did not feel welcome with her sister or her children.

  Suellen still harbored a great amount of hostility toward Scarlett, not only for taking Frank Kennedy, which she would never verbally admit, but also for stranding her two small children, and leaving them in her care. She loved Wade and Ella as if they were her own, but she could not forgive Scarlett for the irreparable damage that had been caused, and she could not forget the long nights of hearing them both scream with terror, nursing them back to health, and nurturing them as their own mother never had. She could not let go of the pain that Scarlett had caused two children, children that were placed by God in her care, and that she chose to abandon. She had long dreamt of having a son, and Scarlett, who had been giving the blessing of a son, was willing to throw him away at any whim that suited her. Suellen was determined that she would not allow Scarlett to push her way in on them again. She would not allow her to reclaim the hold that she had on their hearts, only to break them, sending them back into sobs, pallid evidences of torment, and dismal reflections of the lively children she knew them to be. She would protect these children to the bitter end, just as she would protect her own.

  After a couple of days at Tara, Scarlett decided that she needed to go ahead and wrap up her business quickly, for she did not feel welcome or at home. She did not feel comfortable with Suellen, and even her children did not seem warm to her. That afternoon, she asked Wade to show her around the plantation and show her the progress that they had made. She donned her bonnet and walked outside where he was waiting for her. As they walked, she suddenly looped her hand through his arm, and noticed as he stiffened slightly, not expecting such a gentle gesture from her. He escorted her through the fields, showing her the rows that had been planted, and the acreage that they intended to clear, as well as the list of upgrades that they would undertake during the summer months while waiting for harvest. Scarlett reached down, running the freshly plowed soil between her fingers, stroking the new plants as they made their way through the red Georgian dirt.

  “Wade, honey, I didn’t know you were a natural born farmer. I am so impressed with all the work you have done here.” Scarlett smiled up at him.

  As long as he had waited to hear those words, he could tell they were tainted. She wanted something from him. He continued walking, refusing to acknowledge her bittersweet words, pointing and talking about their plans.

  Scarlett stopped him, and turned him toward her. “Wade, I want you to come with me. I have a lot of land, and I know that with your touch, you can work miracles in my fields. I would give you your own plot with tenants that you will be in charge of.” Her eyes sparkled as she began to talk about her land in Ireland, remembering the rolling green fields, her enormous home, and the secret child she had shared with no one in America. “Oh, you would love it there. It is so beautiful, and all the people there are so nice. You would be surrounded by family, and you would have your heart’s desire.” She stopped long enough to allow him to consider her proposition, but his mind was made up the moment the words left he
r mouth.

  “No,” Wade responded promptly, with resolve.

  Scarlett was immediately taken aback. She had not expected such a determined reaction from the boy that had cowered in her presence for so many years. She knew that he had grown, and could sense his newfound freedom, but she was utterly shocked to hear him reply so determinedly. “What do you mean?”

  “I meant exactly what I said, no. It sounds like a lovely place, Mother, but I have no desire to leave Tara. It has become my home.”

  “But you will want to leave someday, experience new places and things. Where do you expect to find a wife? Are you going to try to marry one of the old Tarleton girls?”

  Wade began to bristle from her stinging words, and had to restrain himself from hurling insults at her. Instead, he remained calm and polite, “Mother, I have had plenty of experience, and I have my life planned. You do not have to worry about me, I have taken care of myself long enough, I can continue.” He refused to tell her about Emily. He was convinced that if she had the slightest idea of his future, she would do whatever it took to destroy it, and he would not let her get her grips on his life again.

  Scarlett did not hear a word he said. She continued as if he had not said a word, “Then again, it is early to speak of marriage. After all, you will be going to the University soon, and maybe you will meet a nice girl from a nice family, but you know, they have Universities in Ireland, or you could go to England.”

  “Mother, hear me clearly. I am not going to accompany you to Ireland, I am not going to the University; I am staying at Tara.” Wade stood tall, keeping eye contact, demanding her attention.

  Scarlett stammered. She had never heard him take such a tone, and she did not know how to respond to him. She dropped her hand from his arm, staring at him incredulously, “I see. Well, then, I will be leaving soon, let’s talk of more pleasant subjects.” She smiled at him, though her heart was broken. She was still his mother, and could definitely play that card, but considering her long absence, she had no legitimate argument. As badly as she hated to admit a mistake, she had to come to terms that she had made this bed, and she had to lie in it. Long ago she had burned the bridge that should have connected them, but she had been too busy, too occupied with more important matters, and now he was gone. They would never feel connected, for the bond had been broken long ago, and apparently it was beyond repair.

  When Scarlett spoke to Ella about returning to Ireland, she echoed Wade’s sentiments. She did not care to go with her mother; she loved Aunt Suellen and her cousins, and she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Usually Ella bubbled with laughter, giggling, and constant chatter, but she had nothing to say to Scarlett for she was a stranger. She did not want to share her innermost secrets the way she did with Suellen. Ella was sure that Scarlett would not understand her, and she would never be willing to risk opening up to a woman so brisk, scary, and unemotional. Scarlett had never been warm, and Ella felt isolated and lonely even in the same room for she felt no kinship with her.

  Scarlett had been surprised with Ella almost as much as she had been with Wade. She had always thought Ella to be an ugly child, but she had grown into a beautiful young lady. She did look quite a bit like her father, but her eyes glowed greenish, with flakes of brown, and her childish sweet face reminded her of Melanie, her sister-in-law by way of marriage to Wade’s father, Charles. She missed Melanie desperately, and she hoped that Ella had the sweet, unimposing, yet lovable disposition of Melanie. If so, she would have the ability to win the hearts of everyone around her, while secretly carrying around enough strength to face a Yankee soldier or oppose a member of the Confederate Widows. Truthfully, though, Scarlett could only speculate on Ella’s temperament, for she had no idea. Before now, she had never cared enough to delve into her personality, and only now did she realize the depth of the cavern that stood between her and her children.

  Once they made their wishes known, Scarlett had no reason to stay on at Tara. She knew that they had inherited her streak of stubbornness, and there was no changing their minds. They wanted to stay at Tara, and they would stay. To try and make them go would only increase their resentment towards her, disabling any hope of reconciliation, and in her heart she clung to that final hope, using that gleam of faith to keep her going as she boarded the train at Jonesboro to return to Savannah. As soon as she was on her way, she began to concentrate on her young daughter, vowing to never estrange her daughter, Cat, the way she had alienated the other two.

  It had been two long weeks since Wade had seen Emily. He didn’t dare risk being gone from the house as long as his mother was there, for she would surely be curious about his absence and either look for him or ask about his whereabouts. He did not want his mother to have any idea that he had a love in his life for she would crush his dreams. As much as he loved Emily, he knew that she would never live up to his mother’s standards for her last name was not known in Savannah, Atlanta, or Charleston among accepted circles of society, and her family leased land from friends, making them tenants rather than land owners. She was the daughter of a farmer, no more, and his mother would never allow him to marry beneath him. Whether or not society had changed, Scarlett held on to old traditions, or at least he believed that she did, and he would not endure the insulting remarks that he knew she would dole out on his dearly beloved.

  As soon as Will’s wagon, carrying Scarlett and all of her luggage had disappeared in a cloud of dust, Wade mounted Silver and galloped hastily to Emily. He had been replaying their last conversation in his mind, and he could wait no longer to hear her reply. He had to know exactly what she thought of his careful planning, and he could not undergo the suspense for another moment. As he galloped, he considered all of the possible scenarios then he pulled the reins, halting Silver in his steps. What if she said no just as he had told his mother no? His mother had carefully planned their return to Ireland, and she had no idea that things would not go exactly as she had anticipated. What if Emily had alternate plans, another man to whom she was pledged, or no desire to marry him? The thought horrified him, and his heart raced as he considered a negative reaction. He honestly did not know if he could bear rejection of the most significant decision he had made in his life. To even think of her refusal seemed to stop the world from spinning.

  He stood there for a moment contemplating his next move. She could not refuse his proposal if he did not allow it. If he did not relight the subject, and if he refused to take notice of her initiation of the topic, she would have no opening to give him an answer. He could continue to hold on to this dream that he held so dear, never allowing anyone to devastate it or him. He was content with his plan, so he very slowly began making his way towards her house, examining his plan from every angle, making sure there were no flaws, and when he was satisfied, he nudged Silver to take him faster to her side.

  As he rode up, he saw her walking slowly back from the big Fontaine house. Her hair was a disheveled mess, with blond curls curling freely from where they had wriggled their way free from the neat chignon at the base of her neck. Her dress was soiled and moist from doing laundry and caring for Sally Fontaine’s new baby as she cleaned the house and began dinner. He rode up beside her, climbed down from the saddle, and offered her a ride. As exhausted as she was, she declined delicately, and continued to walk, welcoming his company. He noticed that there was a dark circle around one eye, and he questioned her, but she dismissed his question easily, blaming fatigue, and he thought no more of the issue.

  He relayed the plans of his mother, and his extreme pleasure with his ability to stand up to her. “I just told her no! I could not believe it myself when the words left my mouth, but I did it. Never before have I had the courage to speak in her presence, let alone give her my opinion and expect it to be respected. She dropped the subject immediately, and left without resuming the topic, making me feel guilty, or belittling me. It was amazing.” His pure joy and satisfaction lit his face. Emily soaked up his delight, pleased with hi
s acquisition of freedom with honor. He was so involved with relating his story that he did not recognize her urgency to reach home, and by the time they had reached her house, her Pa and her brothers were already there.

  They had begun to suspect something was transpiring between Wade and Emily, and as they watched them walk across the field, they sensed something between them that seemed unspeakable, dissolute, for they had no concept of purity, but rather stone cold obstinacy formed from years of heartache and classism. They knew that Wade would become a land owner, and therefore had no intentions of marrying Emily; he was leading her on, only to take her most prized possession. They would never permit that to happen, for once she had been compromised they would never see her married, thus released from their burden.

  Emily saw the men waiting for her, and she knew that she must leave immediately, for she had sensed the loathing that they had begun to feel towards Wade, and she wanted to protect him from the pain that she knew too well.

  “Wade, we need to talk, but not now. Meet me at the creek right after noon. I have to go now,” and with that, she ran through the fields, leaving Wade to stare after her in wonder.

  His plan had been only a temporary delay for the inevitable. He was going to have to face her, just as he had faced his mother, but he knew in his heart that this was going to be much more difficult. No matter what her answer, something was wrong, and he had no understanding of the charade that she had continued with him, even after their last confrontation concerning her lies. He saw her face like a portrait, the fear in her eyes as she ran toward her small, wooden shack and the urgency in her voice as she begged him to meet her tomorrow. She needed him for something far more important than an answer to his proposal. She was afraid of something, and in his darkest moments away from her, he had vowed to protect her.

  He stood for a moment until she had reached her Pa and brothers then he turned, mounted his horse, and trotted slowly back to Tara trying to decide what to do. He wanted to follow her directions, but he had the distinct feeling that he needed to do something else, something far more drastic. By the time he had gotten to Tara, various scenarios had played through his mind until he was convinced that he had to go back and check on her, but he would not go unarmed. He waltzed into the house so as not to raise suspicion, and he walked up the stairs to his room, strapped on his holster and untucked his shirt, covering the weaponry strapped to his side. He walked back down the stairs, yelled to Suellen that he would be back before dinner then rode back to Emily as quickly as he could.

  As he raced down the road, he spurred Silver in the flanks, urging him to go faster until her small ram shackled hut, the once abandoned slave quarters, was in sight. The scene horrified him. Pulling the reins hard enough to cause Silver to rear up, nearly toppling Wade to the ground, he leapt from the horse trying to reach Emily in time. Emily was held by her arms with her knees on the ground with one brother on each side, red faces, fierce, blazing eyes stared at her with hatred. Emily’s dress was filthy as though she had been thrown to the grown and her dress had been stomped, and her beautiful, blond hair curled around her face, muddy, and tousled. Above her, her Pa stood with a long, black whip, ready to strike. Wade could barely make out the voices, as he ran.

  “What did you tell him, you traitor wench? Do you want us to go to jail you stupid whore? Are you willing to trade your body to some farmer who is going to use you and throw you to the side like the trash that you are, and risk losing the food I put in your body?”

  Emily’s head remained low, knowing it was better to remain silent than to try to defend herself. She had learned at a young age to take her punishment quietly. Before Wade could reach her, the large, burly man swung the whip with all his might, and Wade’s knees went weak as he heard the crack and saw Emily’s body sag under the striking blow. Blood and dirt seeped through, staining her light cotton dress, discoloring the small, russet posies lovingly embroidered on the bodice.

  Fighting rage raced through Wade’s body as he reached them, drawing his pistol from his side, he raised it, aiming straight at the man holding the bullwhip, daring him to strike again. From the corner of his eye, he saw Emily’s body slump to the ground, barely able to move under the strain of the wounds across her back and legs.

  Suddenly, Wade felt a strike against his hand, and instinctively pulled the trigger before it flew from his hand across the yard. In the distance of his mind, he heard the fire of the bullet and Emily’s scream. His eyes darted around, trying to find where the bullet had made contact, and there, before him, her younger brother lay quietly on the ground, clutching his chest. Emily mustered her strength, ripping her apron from her waist, then lay on him, applying pressure. Her face was white, as she saw the bright, red drops of blood seep from the corner of his mouth.

  “Run, get Sally. Now Wade, now!” She screamed, madly possessed by fear and horror.

  Wade ran to the big house, trying to sort through the events, not fully remembering what had just happened, as Emily’s pa and older brother stayed behind. Her pa picked up Rex’s limp body and took him into the small, damp cabin and laid him on the bed. Within a few moments, his chest began to rattle with his last breaths.

  Sally Fontaine stood in the doorway adjusting to the dim light, taking in the blood that seemed to be overflowing in the small room. She went to Rex’s side, heard the sounds of his chest, and recognized the sound of death, bringing back memories of treating wounded soldiers during the Civil War, and she shivered in the hot, humid, afternoon. She bent her head over him, said a prayer then rose slowly. They could see the moistness in her eyes as she walked to the door, and they knew that there was nothing she could do.

  “Wade, go get Mr. Fontaine. Send him to Jonesboro to get the sheriff and the minister. Emily, come with me.”

  The two men stood inside the cabin, paralyzed with disbelief and confusion as Emily followed Sally out the door. “Grab that gun, wrap it up, and hide it.” After Emily had done just as Sally had instructed, they began to walk slowly toward the house, though Emily did not understand why. She was also confused. Everything had happened so fast, she could not believe that he was gone, nor did it occur to her at that moment the extent of Wade’s conviction. As they walked, Sally grabbed Emily’s hand, and placed some bills in it, folded her fingers over them, and whispered softly, “I don’t know what is going to happen, now. Do not tell anyone, not even your family or Wade about what is in your hand or where the gun is hidden. Just remember, no matter where you go you can come back. Telegram quickly.” Sally squeezed Emily’s hand hard, then released it, and told her to go back to the cabin and sit outside until her father gave her more instructions.

  When she got back, she sat on the small rocker that had been her mother’s, and looked across the fields that had suddenly changed colors. They no longer looked green with the new life that was springing up in the soil. It looked hazy, brown, and dry.

  “We can’t stay here. As soon as the sheriff gets here, they’ll be wanting to search the place. They’ll find our still and we’ll be good as leased convicts.” Emily’s ears perked as soon as she heard her pa’s voice, calm and stoic, in a moment of crisis.

  “Where we gonna go, Pa? They’ll hunt us down if we stay in Georgia, and even if the sheriff don’t find it, that Mr. Fontaine will find it, even if that dumb boy hadn’t already ratted us out.”

  “I don’t know yet, but we gotta go now. Get your bedroll and some food. Emily, get your stuff. We’re leaving!”

  Emily heard her older brother’s voice, “Oh Pa! We can’t take her. She’s just gonna cause more trouble, and we can travel faster without her slowing us down.” Emily’s heart leapt, hoping desperately that her Pa would listen to a voice of reason. She did not want to go, but she could never fight him. She had to follow his orders.

  “She’s going. Get your stuff, now!”

  Emily ran inside the house and grabbed her bedroll which was always neatly in the corner, and discreetly slid Wade’s six-sh
ooter deep inside. They had been through this before, and she knew the drill. They would load their packs onto the old, broad pack horse, and they would walk until they reached a place that her pa could stand. Only this time, there would be one less pack and one less traveler. By the time Mr. Fontaine, Sally, and Wade had returned with the sheriff, the family had gone, taking hidden routes. They stole out of there more quickly than they had come.