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Authors: Marsha Ward
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else to settle.”
Rod growled a surly reply, then looked up as Clay came through the door. “Speak up, boy.
Where’s the minister?”
“He went off into the hills to give comfort to Mother Whitwell. She’s dying.”
“Humph!” Rod snorted. “When will he be back?”
“Mrs. Halsey didn’t know for sure, but thought he wouldn’t be back until after the burying.”
Rod groaned, then gathered his wits and addressed the gathered company. “We’ll put the weddings off until later.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose it’s best that the young ladies don’t have to travel with buns in the oven.”
Several shocked faces turned his way.
“Well, git on home.” He made a shooing motion with his hands. “We meet mighty early tomorrow.”
~~~
After he set fires in the house and walked to the waiting wagons, Rod did not look back. He mounted to his place on the seat, turned to look at his wife, and gathered the lines into his hands.
“Avery can’t live in your home now, Julie.”
“Oh, Rod! Did you have to burn it?”
He let out his breath. “Hard work is what’s needed, Julie. We can’t undo the war, nor bring back our dead sons, and the land belongs to Avery now, but we can begin a new life where we won’t have cruel memories.”
He started the team, and the wagons of his neighbors turned into a line behind him. Albert and Andy Campbell, driving the livestock, took up the rear, and the animals provided the only island of noise amid the silent pioneer party.
They were anxious to get on the road, and to avoid the pursuit that might come when Malcolm Avery discovered that all he had bought with his Yankee money was land.
Julia sat on the seat of the wagon, hearing the stern command of her husband not to look back, but her body turned with a will of its own, to look at her home for one last time. She watched in fascination as the flames caught on the roof of the house. The fire rose in fingers of red and orange, falsifying the dawn and lighting up the bulk of Massanutten Mountain. Then her trance was broken by Rod’s hand on her arm.
“Julie, don’t!” he pleaded, and she turned around on the seat.
“Rod, it’s my home,” she said, feeling tears run down her cheeks. She drew herself up, setting her back rigidly against the glow of the fire.
Rod pulled on the lines, bringing the team to a halt. He set his jaw and put his arm around his wife. “It’ll be ashes and rubble soon, just like the rest of the buildings, and we must be on our way.” He looked down at her head, made his voice rough, and continued. “Let’s go on, Julie. We’ll get through this pain.”
“I know,” she whispered.
~~~
Julianna huddled with her sister in the back of the wagon, numb from the long journey down the Valley Pike. She could not recall a more dismal experience than sitting in the wagon hour upon hour, cramped and jostled by the churn and the provision box. Their father had cautioned them to stay in the wagon, for he wanted to travel as fast as possible this first day.
She eased her muscles the best she could, and wondered how soon they would stop for the night. Passing scenery no longer amused her, and she wanted to stretch her legs.
“Jule, do you remember Uncle Jonathan?” Marie asked.
Julianna turned to look at her older sister. “I remember his beard. It always scratched me when he picked me up.” She yawned. “But that was such a long time ago.”
“I remember when he put his box on the mantel. I didn’t want him to go back to Colorado.” Marie sighed. “It’s been so long since his last letter came. I reckon that’s because of the difficulty lately.”
“Marie, do you reckon he could be—dead?”
“No. Not Uncle Jonathan. Ma says the mail’s been cut off with all the fighting. She says we’ll catch up with him sooner or later.”
Julianna yawned again, and wished Pa would make a rest stop.
~~~
The light of the afternoon sun slanted
Rod growled a surly reply, then looked up as Clay came through the door. “Speak up, boy.
Where’s the minister?”
“He went off into the hills to give comfort to Mother Whitwell. She’s dying.”
“Humph!” Rod snorted. “When will he be back?”
“Mrs. Halsey didn’t know for sure, but thought he wouldn’t be back until after the burying.”
Rod groaned, then gathered his wits and addressed the gathered company. “We’ll put the weddings off until later.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose it’s best that the young ladies don’t have to travel with buns in the oven.”
Several shocked faces turned his way.
“Well, git on home.” He made a shooing motion with his hands. “We meet mighty early tomorrow.”
~~~
After he set fires in the house and walked to the waiting wagons, Rod did not look back. He mounted to his place on the seat, turned to look at his wife, and gathered the lines into his hands.
“Avery can’t live in your home now, Julie.”
“Oh, Rod! Did you have to burn it?”
He let out his breath. “Hard work is what’s needed, Julie. We can’t undo the war, nor bring back our dead sons, and the land belongs to Avery now, but we can begin a new life where we won’t have cruel memories.”
He started the team, and the wagons of his neighbors turned into a line behind him. Albert and Andy Campbell, driving the livestock, took up the rear, and the animals provided the only island of noise amid the silent pioneer party.
They were anxious to get on the road, and to avoid the pursuit that might come when Malcolm Avery discovered that all he had bought with his Yankee money was land.
Julia sat on the seat of the wagon, hearing the stern command of her husband not to look back, but her body turned with a will of its own, to look at her home for one last time. She watched in fascination as the flames caught on the roof of the house. The fire rose in fingers of red and orange, falsifying the dawn and lighting up the bulk of Massanutten Mountain. Then her trance was broken by Rod’s hand on her arm.
“Julie, don’t!” he pleaded, and she turned around on the seat.
“Rod, it’s my home,” she said, feeling tears run down her cheeks. She drew herself up, setting her back rigidly against the glow of the fire.
Rod pulled on the lines, bringing the team to a halt. He set his jaw and put his arm around his wife. “It’ll be ashes and rubble soon, just like the rest of the buildings, and we must be on our way.” He looked down at her head, made his voice rough, and continued. “Let’s go on, Julie. We’ll get through this pain.”
“I know,” she whispered.
~~~
Julianna huddled with her sister in the back of the wagon, numb from the long journey down the Valley Pike. She could not recall a more dismal experience than sitting in the wagon hour upon hour, cramped and jostled by the churn and the provision box. Their father had cautioned them to stay in the wagon, for he wanted to travel as fast as possible this first day.
She eased her muscles the best she could, and wondered how soon they would stop for the night. Passing scenery no longer amused her, and she wanted to stretch her legs.
“Jule, do you remember Uncle Jonathan?” Marie asked.
Julianna turned to look at her older sister. “I remember his beard. It always scratched me when he picked me up.” She yawned. “But that was such a long time ago.”
“I remember when he put his box on the mantel. I didn’t want him to go back to Colorado.” Marie sighed. “It’s been so long since his last letter came. I reckon that’s because of the difficulty lately.”
“Marie, do you reckon he could be—dead?”
“No. Not Uncle Jonathan. Ma says the mail’s been cut off with all the fighting. She says we’ll catch up with him sooner or later.”
Julianna yawned again, and wished Pa would make a rest stop.
~~~
The light of the afternoon sun slanted
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