Having determined to speak to Meredith, Harry began to seek for a reasonable opportunity. Anytime during the week would be inpractical; as well as unfair--being either early or late. Most days he didn't return for dinner, but ate his noon meal at the Harvey's.

The next Sunday, Harry elbowed his way to Meredith's side and cleared his throat. She stopped in the middle of a airy giggle and turned toward him. His green eyes were serious and level.

"Come on, Meredith, we'd better be headin' home," he said.

At this, several of the better off young men offered to give her a lift in the family buggy. As Meredith fluttered, trying to make up her mind, Harry gently took her by the arm and declared, "Actually, though it is very kind of you all, I am going to walk her home." 

Meredith shot him an offended glace under her eyelid, then decided not to argue. He seemed tired and maybe a little sad; besides, he didn't look like he would take any guff from anyone. As he steered her off, they heard, "Say, what do you think came over him? I have never seen him look like that before!"

Meredith glanced up at him and thought, "Me neither."

After they got out on the road, Meredith queried, "Is something wrong, Harry?"

He sighed uncomfortably and bit his bottom lip. "You ain't goin' to like this, Merry."

She looked at him sharply and stiffed ever so slightly, "Why not?" she asked, in an attempt at cool breeziness.

"Well..." A  pause. "Well, it touches on...Meredith, you've turned into a horrid flirt!" There. It was out.

He had stopped, turning to look her straight in the face as he said it.

Her eyes flashed angrily, "So? All the other girls flirt. Besides, the boys like it." With that she turned and started off again, as though dismissing the matter.

Harry groaned to himself, then hurried after her. "Meredith, just because 'the other girls do it' and 'the boys like it', does that make it right? What makes givin' parts of your heart to different fellas right? What makes givin' them false hopes right? What makes lyin' about your feelings right?"

Meredith turned on him and blazed out, "Leave me alone!" before rushing off ahead of him.

Harry kicked a rock viciously and turned off the road to pick his way home through woods and fields.

            ***************************************************************

Meredith arrived home first. Her mother was fixing dinner and trying to keep the convalescent children quiet. Samuel was still very weak and Sophia was having fun babying him.

"Why, my dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Drewry as her daughter burst in. "What on earth is the matter?"

"Harry insulted me! That's what!" the irate girl emphasised her wrath by stamping a foot.

Truely suprised, Mrs. Drewry demanded, "What! How did he insult you?" Her concern grew deeper when Meredith refused to answer the question, but flushed scarlet.

Sophia whispered in Janet's ear, "He was probably just teasing her." Janet look at her older sister with wide eyes and tearfully snuck outside.

            ************************************************************

Harry was startled by the little voice. "Harry, Meredith is really mad; but Sophy says you were probably just teasing. I'm scared. I have never seen her that angry before. What did you do?"

"Janee!" he exclaimed, "You aren't supposed to be out here--particularly in your bare feet!"

She looked guiltily at her bare toes. The young man smiled tenderly and scooped her up. As she snuggled down on his broad shoulder she asked, "Harry, why is Meredith mad?"

"You'll find out soon enough, I reckon," he answered, "so don't ask."

She didn't understand, but decided not to ask any more questions. Her beloved Harry was unhappy and that was bad enough.

When they got home and stepped through the door, the tension was so thick it was oppresive. No one, not even Sophia, thought anything was funny. Harry looked at Meredith as he entered; she was setting the table. She tossed her head and turned away.

Handing Janet to her mother, Harry said, "I'm not hungry, Mrs. Drewry. Please proceed without me."

As he turned to leave, she stopped him. "Harry, tell me what happened. Meredith refuses to say anything other than that you insulted her."

"I suppose I did." He looked around at the children, rather embarrassed.

Seeing his discomfort, Mrs. Drewry set Janet down and requested Harry to step out of doors with her. As he did so, he saw Meredith open her lips and grasp the edge of the table convulsively.

"Alright now. Out with it." Mrs. Drewry was commanding, yet compassionate.

"Yes, m. It really is quite simple. I confronted her with the truth."

"About what?" prompted Mrs. Drewry as he paused.

He took a deep breath, "I told her that she has become a terrible flirt. She didn't like it and we argued some."

"No wonder she wouldn't tell me!" her mother exclaimed. "I suspected something of the sort."

Harry began, "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be, son. I have noticed that she has been acting foolish lately, but was 'too busy'--what a terrible excuse!--to address it. It is I who should be sorry."

"Perhaps I should have been more subtle," Harry mused. "I mean, I was rather blunt."

Mrs. Drewry smiled slightly, "If you weren't blunt Harry, you wouldn't be you!"

She went back in and Harry strolled off, headed to his stump. All of a sudden, he stopped and peered at the patch of blackened field he had planted.

"Hallelujah!" he yelled in excitment. "It's coming up! It's COMING UP! Praise the Lord!!"

He bolted back towards the barn, entirely forgetting his 'disgrace'. As he crashed through the door, frightening everyone within, his weariness gone, he was shouting, "The corn! The corn! It's a comin' up!"

He stopped suddenly, rather abashed and remembering his status. James tumbled out of his chair and bolted out the door with excitment; Harry followed suit.

To be continued...

Harry bided his time and bit his tongue, somewhat to Mrs. Drewry's suprise; but he didn't want to speak prematurely. However, he did stop hanging back when young gentlemen came to call. If he were home, he would often insert himself into a conversation.

One afternoon, Sophia ran to the edge of the wood where her mother stood serveying the burnt ruins of her home and the imporved-looking old barn. Her wistful gaze shifted to her daughter who seemed highly amused over something. Sophia's eyes were dancing and the girl was rather unsuccessfully striving to keep a straight face.

"Sophia, just what has tickled you so?" Mrs. Drewry inquired, smiling herself; it being impossible not to smile at Sophia in one of her "funny fits" as Samuel called them.

"Oh,oh, oh!!" By now the girl was shaking with laughter. "Harry is so funny!" Sophia became helpless with laughter as her mother asked, "Why?"

In bits and starts, Sophia told her, "Meredith and Dan Erwin were sitting there by the fire, you know. And Dan is so shy. The poor fellow was trying to think of something to say--obviously. Meredith was trying to be polite and not laugh--for poor young Mr. Erwin did look so funny--twisting his hat about so! Harry had just finished fixing that shutter that broke during the last storm, you know, and he was leaning on the wall watching them. Janet and Samuel were playing in another corner and James was whittling--or trying to. All of a sudden, Harry pushed off the wall, grabbed a chair and plopped down on it backwards and started talking to Mr. Erwin about the book Meredith has been reading to us all!"

"And why is this so funny, Sophia?" Mrs. Drewry smiled.

"Oh Mama! It just is! Mr. Erwin seemed so relieved, yet insulted, that his wooing be interrupted so rudely--not that Harry was really being rude, of course."

Mrs. Drewry laughed softly and ran her hand over her daughter's hair, "Sophy, you have a perverse streak in you."

Sophia grinned impishly, "Don't we all, one way or another?"

                                ****************************************************

Meanwhile, Harry was arguing the finer points of growing cucumbers with Daniel Erwin--who knew absolutely nothing about cucumbers--but quite a lot about horses. Meredith felt crowded out and therefore she got up and started banging around with the cooking pans. Harry's own perverse streak made him grin.

"So, Harry," asked Mr. Erwin suddenly, "are you going to try planting this ground come spring?"

"I'm going to try planting some of it," responded the farmer. "I keep praying that we'll get more rain to wash the salt away--least ways, desperse it some. The total war polices of Sherman and Grant--among others--are inhuman."

"Rather." After a pause, "I hear you work for the Harvey's?"

"Yes." Harry got a defensive look in his eyes. "They have land that can be worked--the only thing I know how to do--and they give fair wages. I need the money to pay off a debt."

Meredith turned from what she was doing and stood behind Harry's chair. "He barrowed the money to pay our taxes," she said softly.

"I see." replied Dan Erwin. Suddenly he smiled sheepishly, "Well, it's been enjoyable. I must be going however. Good-evening all!"
                          
After he left, Meredith turned to Harry, "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" he inquired innocently.

Sophia nearly strangled herself trying to keep her laughter under control.

"You know what I mean, Harry! Why did you come butting in like that?" Meredith demanded.

Harry grinned, "I'd hardly call it 'butting in'; there wasn't anything going on. Poor Erwin was tongue-tied and looked absolutely ridiculous--somewhat like a fish out of water."

"Well...well..." Meredith was still attempting to rebuke, but couldn't do so. 'Fish out of water' was exactly how the young man had looked, opening his mouth only to change his mind and close it again.

                        ************************************************

It wouldn't be the last time Harry would interupt a suitors 'wooing', as Sophia called it. Mrs. Drewry soon found herself looking at Sophia everytime it happened and grinning as if at a personal joke--which it was. She approved of the move and started dropping in on the converstations herself more frequently. It kept them from being too personal and it also allowed all parties to see how the other interacted around others. Meredith began to feel insulted--as though she couldn't be trusted. Her attitude got thicker; and then she started to seriously flirt.

When Harry realized that Meredith was flirting he got very upset. He began to wonder if it was his fault since he had purposely started 'butting in'on her and her visitors. But then, so had her mother. Mrs. Drewry had in fact remarked that she found such a courtship safer and probably much more informative. Also, it wasn't as though they never let the girl and her suitor ("No...woo-er. How many times do I have to tell you Harry, that's what they should be called. Moon-eyed boys!" "I suppose, Sophia, you will change your mind about that one day? "Bah!") have private conversations.

About the same time that Meredith started to get bolder with her flirtation, Mrs. Drewry became serverely distracted. The younger children all got very sick. Samuel in particular was dangerously ill. Spring was coming and the local farmers who could, started plowing. Harry returned to long days at the Harvey's; getting up early and going to bed late in order to work the Drewry land as well. James was getting better, but he was too ill to be of any assistance, even though he longed to be. Harry beecame irritable and sharp due to lack of sleep and both physical and mental strain.

One Lord's Day afternoon, Harry betook himself to his favorite stump in the woods. He often came here on Sunday's to rest and pray and wrestle with himself. Being illiterate, he did not bring a copy of the Scriptures with him. It would do him no good, "except maybe to make me look pious" he once said with a laugh.

He felt he should say something to Meredith about her flirting, but he didn't know how to go about it. Hopping up from his seat, he tramped back and forth and around and around. His heart was screaming at him, "You are a coward! You are a coward!" His reason told him, "Take it easy." Back and forth the raging internal argument went: "It would be hypocritcal for you to say anything! Look at yourself, growling and snapping at everybody of late!" "I  know I have. I've working on that (Lord, strengthen me against myself!) But at the same time....I know I'm a sinner--I sin every day! I'm not perfect. Yet, aren't we called to correct a brother (or in this case, a sister) in error?"

Exhausted, he threw himself down on his stump and rested his head in his hand. He'd lain his trusty kepi on his knee and as he sat there, he stared at it and the longer he stared at it the blurrier it became. At last, he ceased to see it at all and he slipped from the stump and lay there peacefully asleep.

To be continued...

Soon after she was offically 'out', Meredith began to have a trickle of handsome and not so handsome young men start calling. As winter set in, the trickle got a little heavier, since the weather got chilly and not much could be done farming wise.

Harry retained his job at the Harvey's, but his duties now mainly consisted of mucking the stables and caring for the livestock. He spent more time at home working around the place. Since he was there he came in contact with Meredith suitors. They all knew one another to some extent or other, but Harry increasingly found himself in an uncomfortable position. These young men were from the upper classes of society while Harry boasted the background of small-time farmer. To make matters worse, he was employed by Scalawags! Often they seemed to have difficulty in remembering that he had also faithfully served his State and Country in the Confederate Army.

Flattered at having young men surrounding her, at church and at home, Meredith began to wish she didn't have to work and longed for the 'old days' of leisure. She developed something of a superior attitude. Her mother throughly understood and when convenient, dropped hints here and there. Usually Meredith caught on and behaved herself for the rest of the day.

Her younger siblings giggled at her and put on fake airs to make each other laugh. Nothing was as funny as Samuel and Janet play-acting to be Meredith and a "fella". James often stood to one side with his arms crossed watching them with a mysterious look. One day Sophia asked him what he was doing.

James grinned, "Oh, I'm bein' Harry."

Sophia shouted, laughing, "What?" Then she and James nodded at each other.

Inside, in front of the fire, Mrs. Drewry paused, spoon in hand. "So," she mused, "I am not the only one who has noticed!"

Harry's easy laughter was not heard as often as before. Neither did he smile so readily. One afternoon while pitching hay to the Harvey's cattle, he exclaimed aloud, "I'm jealous! That's what's wrong with me!" Frowning, he tossed another fork-full of hay into
the manger. "Well?" he demanded of himself, "What are you going to do about it?"

"Have you talked to Mrs. Drewry about it?"

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin. "Mr. Harvey! I had no idea you were here!"

Mr. Harvey smiled, "Well, Harry, have you?"

"No, sir."

"Start there." With that Mr. Harvey left.

"As much as I hate to take advice from a Scalawag," Harry muttered, "I think he's right."

                ************************************************************* 

Following Mr. Harvey's wise advice, Harry acosted Mrs. Drewry the following day, a Sunday. Meredith was blithely recounting some adventure of the week to a couple of hovering gents. Harry relieved himself by unkindly glaring at them before pulling the mother aside.

"So, what do I do?" he asked. "I'm an out cast from Meredith's society. I'm plumb jealous, to be truthful. Look," he interrupted Mrs. Drewry as she started to speak, "I know I'm a feller from the 'working class' and ya'll ain't. I'm completely aware of that. But I also know that I'm attracted to Meredith (I've always like her--even when Francis and I used to tease her mercilessly). I have no right to put myself forward--but I'm jealous. Should I leave? What should I do?"

Mrs. Drewry took the adgitated young man's hands in hers. "Harry, I would much perfer you as son-in-law than any of these other fellows."

Harry gasped in both suprise and hope and leaned forward.

"I know," she continued, "what you are made of--your determination, your graciousness, your loyalty, your courage. I know you. I know that you would lay down your own life to save any of us. Most importantly, I know your faith. What difference does 'class' have now? We are all poor. My dear boy, I have been watching closely. I have know for quite some time now that you love Meredith. You have behaved like a perfect gentleman. I had suspicions that she loved you too. Maybe she does and she doesn't realize it...maybe she doesn't. I don't know." She paused, then said softly, "Harry, you have my full permission to speak."

Harry's head was reeling with happiness, but he also felt an anxiety. "What if I do?" he asked, "What if she rejects me? What then? I could not stay--for several reasons."

Mrs. Drewry sighed, "Well, in that case, Harry, you would have to find someplace else to stay...but you would always be welcome back!"

To be continued... 

Meredith's sixteenth birthday came. She was resigned to having no party and was thinking about something entirely different while waiting at 'the stump' for Harry to come home.

After a while, she began to get worried. She ran back to the barn, forgetting she was now 'grown up'.

"Mama! It's almost slam dark and Harry is not home yet! I'm..."

She stopped in mid-sentence. There on the table was a dainty-looking little cake. Sitting opposite the door, in his usual place, was Harry. His green eyes were laughing as Meredith gasped, "Oh!"

"I came around from another direction in order to suprise our dear Miss Merry!" he grinned.

"Happy Birthday, dear!" Mrs. Drewry called as she lifted the pan of okra off the fire.

"We would have had fried chicken..." James began.

"Execpt we only have one!" Samuel piped up, as he eyed the okra. It was his favorite and he was hungry.

"Come on! Sit down!" Sophia and Janet giggled as they pulled their sister toward the table.

Towards the end of the happy, though megar meal, Meredith inquired, knowing they had neither flour nor sugar, "Where did the cake come from?"

"If I tell you, will you eat it?" Harry teased.

"I suppose you got it from the Harvey's?" she asked, trying not to feel ungrateful. Scalawags irritated her; only the Carpetbaggers were worse.

"A logical guess," Harry responded, "but no. No, there is a Yankee Captain in town that I once captured. (He's the fellow who got my kepi back for me.) His wife just came down from Pennsylvania to join him. She made it."

"Why?" Meredith was confused by this strange tale.

Harry laughed, "For some reason she feels she owes me something for not shooting the Captain!"

Meredith smiled, understanding the woman's position better than Harry did, and sliced the cake. 

                     **************************************************************
As Meredith was headed for bed that night, she detoured to where Harry lay sprawled out on the dirt floor. "Harry?" 

Harry grunted, "Hmm?"

"Thank-you."

His eyes popped open and he grinned, "Go to bed, birthday girl! It was a pleasure."

He rolled over on his blanket and didn't see Meredith's face as she lingered for a moment. Briefly, she touched his shoulder and then was gone.

To be continued...

The next day it was pouring down rain. The Harvey's never required Harry to work on rainy days, so that was when Harry continued making repairs and rennovations to the Drewry's barn. It was also when he set his traps.

First thing in the morning, Harry would dash out and hurry along to where his traps were. After setting them, he would run back to the barn--often soaked. At evening he would repeat the procedure, purposely springing the empty traps. He would gather the dead animals and remove their hides which he streached on the side of the barn. He planned on using some of them to make winter moccasins; the remainder would be sold.

On a frugal whim, Harry discovered the means of extracting the salt from the earth. He used the 'dirty salt'  to preserve the hides. Once they were cured, he set about teaching the boys the art of moccasin making. James caught on quickly.

"Harry, may I make the rest of the moccasins? I enjoy doing this." James looked eagerly into the older boys face.

Harry grinned, "I don't see why not, James. It will take some responsibility off of me. I was wondering how I was going to get seven pairs of moccasins done before winter set in on my schedule."

With his new found skill, James spent many happy hours working with the hides. Since the moccasins would have to serve for winter shoes, Harry had left the fur on them. He showed James how to turn that to the inside.

James asked during a moccasin stitching lesson, "Where did you learn all this?"

"Oh, an old mountain man. He kind of took Francis and me under his wing. I didn't have any shoes and it was getting cold--rather like now--and he showed me how to make moccasins. I already knew how to tan hides. Pa taught me that when I was younger than you."

"Did Francis get moccasins, too?" James loved hearing about his older brother.

Harry sat back on his heels and push his kepi back. He stared out, unseeing, into the distance. He had loved Francis like a brother and had seen him die. It was hard to talk of him still, three years later.

"Well?" James prompted.

Harry shifted his gaze toward James; he looked just like Francis, down to the serious, though often smiling grey eyes. James tilted his head to one side, "Don't you remember?"

At that Harry laughed. "Oh yes, I remember. Francis wanted a pair, but Ben only had enough leather to make one pair. Francis had shoes, but I didn't; so I got the moccasins. I would have shared with with--only my feet were bigger than his!"

James giggled, then his grey eyes grew sober. "Harry, how did...what happened to Francis?"

Harry stood up slowly and looked down at James. "Jimmy, he was killed."

James returned insitingly, "I know that...but how was he killed?"

"In the line of duty. Bravely."

"That's still not what I meant," James remarked.

Suddenly Harry realized that the whole family was there. Mrs. Drewry said softly, "We were never told exactly what happened. Did he suffer much?"

Harry stuffed his hands into his pants pockets and took a deep breath, "No. He didn't. It was instantaneous." He was resloved not to tell them of the cannon ball ripping through both drum and boy. Nor the fact that he had been covered in his friend's blood and internals. The horror he felt at that time crept back over him as he saw the death of Francis playing through his mind.
 
Mrs. Drewry caught him by one arm, "You are as white as a sheet!" she exclaimed. "Was it as bad as that?"

"For me," he groaned, unable to stop the tears that forced their way forward. "He never knew what hit him. But oh...Francis was my best friend! It is hard to watch your friends die and know you can't do anything!"

He covered his face with his hands and allowed Mrs. Drewry to sit him down on the bench where James had been. Mrs. Drewry tenderly laid his head on her shoulder and let him weep.

"And it's all my fault!" he cried, "I convinced him to come with me!"

"It is not your fault," Mrs. Drewry said firmly. "You were both crazy boys to run off. But God used it so that you would come and keep us from starving. Francis knew nothing about farming and didn't really care to. He loved his horses. Francis would not have survived this life style because he was sickly. Surely you know that?"

Harry did know it. Francis had been ill a great deal of the time before he was killed. Harry had thought he was going to die from sickness several times before that battle had gotten him.

"I would have come anyway," he protested.

"Would you?" Mrs. Drewry looked him straight in the eyes. "With no father or mother to care for you? Would you really have come back? Or would you have gone to your grandfather in Tenneessee?"

Harry just shook his head; he couldn't answer the question. He didn't really know.

To be continued...

"At the amount I'm paid," Harry remarked a week later, "it will take five years to pay off my debt--subtracting the money for taxes and tithes," he added. He looked happily around the table, for the years taxes had been paid. "I'll try this ground in the spring...though I rather doubt that the crops wil do well, if at all. I'm putting some of my pay aside for seed."

"I hate to mention it," Mrs. Drewry hesitated, then continued, "but we all, all seven of us, could use some new clothing."

"And I'm the only one with cash," came the cheerful rejoinder. "Tell me how much you need ma'am, and it's yours!"

"You are very kind, Harry. I should feel ashamed to even think of taking your money..."

"Nonesense! I need new clothes too. Jimmy and Sam aren't the only men popping their britches buttons!" Harry laughed gaily as he looked down at his tattered and increasingly snug woollen pants.

Meredith, over near the fire place, smiled and promised herself that she would stitch Harry's 'britches buttons' on his new pants as securely as possible.

A few days later, Mrs. Drewry had purchased the needed dress goods. She determined that they could get along without pins, though it would have made things easier. They would recycle the bottons off the clothes they were currently wearing.

Such snipping and stitching as had never been seen inside a barn quickly commenced. First, Mrs. Drewry made sure the girls all had fresh undergarments. She did not bother making the boys any. Next she saw to it that the girls all had new frocks. The boys clothing came next--pants and shirts. She made them each a jacket for Sundays. As winter was coming on, she purchased yarn to knit socks with. She had saved the majority of her knitting needles when the Federals had burned the house. For that she was grateful...it saved her money.

Harry was immensely pleased with his new outfit. The heavy cotten pants would last long--even with his contsant activity. Thoughtfully, Mrs. Drewry had made him two shirts; one he set aside for Lord's Days. Since he often worked without a shirt on anyway, he figured the other would last a while.

Harry would rise before daybreak, eat a scant breakfast, and disappear down the wood lot path. After working all day in the Harvey's fields, he would wend his way home to the Drewry's barn. To his great pleasure, though he never admitted it even to himself, Meredith often was waiting for him at the edge of the sparse wood. Most days for the past two weeks, her fingers had been busy knitting winter socks. Therefore, it rather suprised Harry to find her sitting idle on his favorite stump.

"Why so glum?" he called out cheerily as he entered the tiny clearing.

Meredith sighed, "I'm feeling sorry for myself."

"For what reason, fair damsel?" Harry was feeling so pleased with his a half dollar raise that it resulted in a lack of proper sympathy.

Meredith pinched her face up rather comically. "Are you aware that my 16th birthday is next week?"

Harry's grin faded in quizzical suprise. "Well, I reckon not. But that's not all that very old yet," he added with a twinkle.

"I don't suppose you'd understand, would you?" Meredith almost snapped. "But in our family, a girls 16th birthday has always been a huge celebration. A party to denote that she has offically become a woman."

"I see," Harry said thoughtfully, "Your coming out party."

"Yes."

"Well? What do you want me to do?" Harry asked, slightly grumpy at the thought that she might be asking him to fund a party. Adding, "I would rather not expend anymore money at present. I was planning on paying my first installment on my debt next week."

Meredith stared at her hands. "I don't want you to do anything, Harry. I'll get along just fine without a party. Really."

"You don't sound exactly convincing," Harry observed. "Are you sure?"

Suddenly Meredith leaped to her feet and stood almost defiantely before him. "Harry. I would never, ever ask you to waste you hard-earned money on anything as frivolous as a party! Never. I should not have said anything. I was just feeling sorry for myself and I will get over it."

Harry grinned, "Glad to hear it. Say, Merry, I'm hungry. What'd you say about going in?"

He offered her his arm with playful gallantry. She smiled at him as she took it just as playfully, "You are so silly sometimes, Harry!"

"Oh and don't I know it!" he laughingly retorted.

To be continued...

By the time the Drewry's were fully awake the next morning, Harry was gone. The children went rushing around to all his favorite spots, but found no evidence of the green-eyed lad. Janet began to wail, feeling sure that he had run away. Meredith frowned with worry, James and Samuel wanted to cry too, but wouldn't. Mrs. Drewry was worried, but cheered up slightly when Sophia declared confidently, "Look, his blanket and uniform jacket are still here! He'll be back. Do quit your bawling Janet! Come help me finish weeding the peas; that'll please him when he gets returns."

And return he did. Darkness once more had settled in when the familiar masculine tread was heard at the door. "Harry!" a chorus of voices broke out. The young fellow was quite engulfed by the arms of the children. Janet clung to him violently.

"There, there, now," he exclaimed in suprise, "You'd think I'd been gone for a year!"

"Where did you go?" Mrs. Drewry asked anxiously.

"Oh, is that it?" the boy replied. "How dull I am! Well, I said I planned to work hard and long to pay off that debt. I figured I might as well get a head start ." He looked around at the faces surrounding him, "Maybe I should have been clearer about my intentions," he added.

Suddenly, Meredith stepped back, aghast. "You mean," she stammered, "you mean, you went and got a job working for those Scalawags, the Harveys?"

"Well," he demanded, "who else didn't get their property burned out and salted? Besides, their money is worth as much as anybody elses." At the aghast and even horrified looks on their faces, he said quietly, "I said I sold myself out..." With that he turned and left the barn.

After a pause, Mrs. Drewry said, "He's right; and he does have debt to pay off..." She got no further, for Meredith, feeling it was her fault that he was being ostracized, rushed out the door after Harry. He was walking slowly towards the trees, his chin on his chest, wondering if now he would have to leave. Just as he reached the treeline, Meredith caught up with him.

"Harry," she gasped, "Harry, please...I'm sorry!"

He had turned toward when he heard her voice and now he stood looking down at her. Being dark, he couldn't see her tears, but he could hear them. He didn't say anything, but his attitude asked, 'are you sure?'

"Please, Harry. Come home." She was somewhat frightened by his silence. He felt her hand slip into his. "Please, Harry?"

He started to amble back towards the barn, Meredith still clinging to his hand.

To be continued...

It was after dark when Harry arrived home. The family looked up expectantly when he came in.

"You've been hurt!" Meredith exclaimed, leaping up and drawing him to the lamp. "Look, Mama, his face is all bruised and his coat's ripped!"

Harry laughed softly, "I'm a klutz...that's all. I fell down some steps."

Meredith frowned, "You lie, Harry. Something more happened!" Harry's expression subbornly hardened slightly, but he said nothing.

Sophia chimmed in, "Your silence betrays you! You haven't lived with us for over six months for nothing!"

"Harry, what happened?" Mrs. Drewry's voice was kind, but insisting.

"My kepi caused some trouble," was all he said.

She nodded understandingly. "What were you doing in town?" she added.

Harry threw back his head and laughed almost giddily, "Selling myself out!"

"What??" demanded several voices at once.

He grinned, "I am surety!" With that he threw a pouch of money on the table. "There. You can pay the taxes this year!"

There was a pause. "Did you do this for Francis?" Mrs. Drewy asked, thus showing Harry that she understood his initial reason for coming to them.

He thought for minute, "No." He spread his hands to indicate the entire Drewry family, "I did it for you."

"I feel like I ought not to let you..." began Mrs. Drewry, but she was interrupted.

"You can't stop me, ma'am! It's done! If it takes me the rest of my life, I will pay off the debt." He had started out laughing, but ended seriously. "You don't think I'd let my favorite people be despoiled of their land, do you?" he added more cheerfully.

After a lengthly silence during which the various members of the household looked at each other, then the wall, the ceiling, and back to another person, Meredith quietly ventured the question most pressing to their minds, "Harry, how do you propose to pay the debt?"

"Working hard and long," came the reply without hesitation.

"Where did you get the money?" asked Mrs. Drewry.

Harry smiled, "The same place a bunch of bluecoats snitched my kepi."

"That didn't answer my question, young man." She tired to sound severe, but failed as Harry's cheerful mood was infectious.

Harry just laughed, "I won't tell you ma'am. I'm afraid you'd you go give the money back! Rest assured, that's honest money. I have nothing more to say on the matter."

With that, he got up from the table. "I'm tired; what do you say we retire?"

Mrs. Drewry smiled, "Very well. Samuel, please bring me the Bible."

With her children gathered around her, Mrs. Drewry read Psalm 24: "The earth is the Lord’s,
and all its fullness, The world and those who dwell therein. For He has founded it upon the
seas, And established it upon the waters..."

Harry stood with his back to the door listening. His heart was peaceful as he looked around at the faces of those six personages--his people...

To be continued...

The next day, Harry combed his hair neatly, straighted his fraying collar, and carefully set the gray kepi on his head. For some reason, no one felt like asking him what he was up to, though his behavior was certainly unusual. As he stepped out the door, Janet suddenly threw herself on him, "Harry, you aren't leaving us, are you? Please, don't go!"

Startled, he bent down to eye level with the tearful little girl, "Why, Janee, what makes you think I'm going away?"

"Everybody's so quiet!" she wailed.

Harry decided the best thing to do was hold her. As he rocked her gently back and forth, he said, "I'll be back later today. I don't know when exactly, but I am certainly coming back."

Reassured, she nodded and re-straightened his collar for him, getting a resounding kiss in return. They smiled at one another and then Harry hopped up and strode off. The Drewry's looked at each other curiously, then went on with life. 

                                            **************************************

Harry frowned to himself. He had never really felt comfortable in town, but now he liked it even less with all those blue-coated soldiers milling about. He realized that his battered kepi would instantly give him away as a 'Rebel', but he simply squared his shoulders and held his head higher.

"Martial law," he thought scornfully, "don't they realize that real peacefulness will occur faster without it? Rubbing salt in a wound irritates and exacerbates rather than heals."

With such thoughts rolling around in his mind, Harry began winding toward his destination. He purposely kept his distance from the bluecoats; he didn't want any trouble. His heart sank therefore when he saw the bank's entrance. It was surrounding  by loitering Yankee soldiers.

"Well Harry," he remarked under his breath, "here goes!" And with that, he plunged across the street and started up the bank steps.

"Hey, Johnny Reb!" one of the soldiers crowed, "What'd ya up to?" "No good, I'll warrant," said another.  A hand relieved Harry's brown head of  his kepi. It was the wrong move. In an instant the placid young man turned into a lion. He swung around to face the perpetrator, eyes blazing. "Please return my cap!" he demanded. 

"Johnny Reb wants his dirty ol' hat! What'd ya say fellas?" "Toss it in the street!" came from several directions. "Burn it!" came from another.

By this time Harry was hemmed in on all sides. He ground his teeth, "Billy Yank's a coward!"

The remark brought hoots and hollers from the assembled loafers. "Johnny Reb! Johnny Reb!" they taunted.

Harry was furious and was keeping an eye on the gray kepi as it went from hand to hand, further away from him. He couldn't move well, but he started to swing in an attmept to get free.

All of a sudden, a stern, commanding voice broke through the melee. "Give the man back his cap! How dare you treat a brave fellow so!"

Immediately, the unruly soldiery started to pull together and straighten out. Harry, being pushed and pulled, suddenly tumbled down the steps as he was released and landed at the officer's feet. Moments later, the battered kepi landed on top of him. Dazed from his fall, he clutched the cap to his chest and stumbled to his feet.

"There now, are you all right, young man?"

Harry looked up into the questioning face. It was young, yet old at the same time.

"Yes, sir," he managed to reply, feeling that somehow, he knew the man.

The man's face relaxed momentarily into a smile. "Good!" Then turning his attention to his men, he vigorously upbraided them for their disgracful behavior. Turning back to Harry, he asked, "Well Corporal, are you, or are you not going into the bank?"

Harry's look of suprise made the officer laugh, "Come, come, Corporal! Do you not remember the prisoners you single handly took?"

Recognition dawned in the youngsters face, "Oh! Certainly, Sir! I'm afraid I didn't recognize  you minus the beard." He clearly remembered now, he had almost put a bullet through this Captain's head during the war. He had had every opportunity to do so as he was perched up in his snipers position, but he had not--mainly because the officer was alone in the woods. Instead he had ordered the man to put his pistol and sword on the ground and turn around and keep his hands where Harry could see them. Once Harry collected the arms, he marched him into camp. Harry's face twisted up into a amused smile at the recollection of the officers reaction when he finally saw him, "My lands! You're just a boy!" Harry had felt kind of sore at that greeting and retorted, "I am a corporal in the Confederate Sates Army!" "So you are," the captain had repiled kindly, "I had no intention of insulting you."

With the captain accompaning him, Harry entered the bank.

To be continued...

Harry spent the next couple of months busily making repairs to the barn. It was time consuming as he often had to make or borrow tools from neighbors who were somewhat more fortunate. One of the first things he did was build a fireplace and chimney into one end of the barn so the ladies would not have to cook outdoors. To do so, he enlisted the help of the Drewry boys in hauling old bricks from the site of the burned house. The morter proved more of a challenge, but with patience and perseverance, he overcame and had a sound chimney that would last.

Instead of nails he used wooden pegs made by himself and 10-year-old James. Samuel, at age 6, was deemed too young to be safely entrusted with a sharp knife and a chunks of hard oak. He built a door and fixed the horse-stall partitions which served as bedroom walls. Harry taught James how to make wooden shingles and the two of them fixed the roof. For this job, Harry scrounged old nails from wherever he could find them. If Samuel was looking bored, Harry would hustle him off to search for more nails. Samuel considered it something of a treasure hunt, for Harry would praise him for his sharpness whenever he found some.

Along with the boys, Harry instructed the girls, Meredith, Sophia, and Janet, aged 15, 11, and 8 respectively, in gardening techniques. Mrs. Drewry observed and learned much of both gardening and the construction. She also did an admirable job of cooking for a woman who had always had servants.

Harry longed to expand the gardening operation, but could not as the land had been salted and, just as importantly, seed was sparse. As the fruit came off the plants in the garden, he began to dry and horde the seeds. It soon became Janets job to make sure Harry's seed collection was drying properly. She took this duty seriously and once when she found that some tomato seeds had moulded, she went wailing to Harry that she had not done her job properly. Harry quickly comforted the little girl, "It's not your fault Janee [he nicknamed her that shortly after his arrival]; it's been so rainy that nothing can dry very well! Don't worry, we'll get some more seeds out of the next tomato."

It wasn't long before the youth began to wonder how the Drewry's were going to pay their taxes, as pay they must. He wished heartily that either his father or Mr. Drewry had survived the war. Certainly they would have known what to do. Harry fully understood that he had put himself in the position of defender and provider for the Drewry family. He felt that he owed it to them, having convinced Francis to run off with him. Still, the responsibility weighed heavily on him and he often was not as patient as he would have liked to be. On top of that, he found himself with a growing affection for Meredith that he didn't consider healthy to the circumstances. 

One day, as tax season* drew closer, and Harry more irritable, a tall man on an exquisite black horse rode up. The man was fashionably dressed in a three piece riding suit and the bold cravat he wore set off his thin features and black beard. Harry stepped over the charred threshold--a constant reminder of the invading Yankee's--and walked halfway across the barnyard. He stood there immovable, his arms across his chest. The gray kepi was pushed back on his head and the mid-afternoon sun lit the stern face.

James grinned, "Sam, isn't he imposing?" Samuel giggled back, "Sure is!"

Their merriment ceased however, as their mother laid a hand of both of their shoulders. The boys glanced into her serious face and then looked at one another. They got the feeling that all was not well.

The gentleman on horse back took in the state of the land and the people of it with a sweeping glance around. He rode his horse right up to Harry and asked pleasantly, "Is this your land?" Harry cringed inwardly as he heard the heavy New England accent; he had heard rumors of these Yankee Carpetbaggers...

Staring the man straight in the eye, Harry replied, "It belongs to Mrs. Drewry. At this point and time I so-happen to be caretaker."

The edge in his voice caused the man on the black horse to raise a dark eyebrow as he stated, "Caretaker? Looks rather run-down to me."

Fire flashed from Harry's green eyes and his retorted, "That's what happens when marauders going under the name of  'soldier' salt the land, sir!"

"Oh, I see." The smooth voice was unruffled.

Harry glared at him, "Get to the point, sir. You didn't come here to banter about crops and tactics of war."

The man laughed softly, "How insightful, my dear boy! No. I did not." Here his voice got even smoother, "I came to see about purchasing the land. What will your mistress sell for?"

"I will not sell at any price, sir!" Mrs. Drewry had come beside Harry. She held herself with great dignity. At that moment Harry felt an even greater admiration for her than previously; and he held her in great esteem to begin with.

"I see," said the man. "However," he added swiftly, "quite obviously you have nothing of value left, madam. How do you intend to pay your taxes? Surely it is better to sell at a reasonable price (which I am quite willing to pay), than to have your land confiscated?"

Harry looked down at his bare, scratched feet. He couldn't stand to see Mrs. Drewry's face. She had turned pale and had let out a tiny gasp as though someone had slapped her, but she still held herself with dignity.  After a moment or two of oppressive silence, Mrs. Drewry calmly and coldly replied, "If I want to sell, I will advertise. Until then, I advise you and those like you to stay off my land! Next time, I will not hesitate to fire on you as a tresspasser!"

The sauve man looked highly startled, then bowed low in the saddle, "As you wish, madam." This he said somewhat mockingly Harry thought. With that, he touched spur to horse and slowly ambled down the drive.

Mrs. Drewry grasped Harry's arm, "What shall we do? For he is right in one respect, you know. How, my dear, are we goiong to pay the taxes?"

Harry whipped off his cap, slapped his thigh with it and stamped his foot in impatience and worry. The anxiety he had been feeling welled up inside of him. "I don't know!" he snapped with sudden vehemence. Immediately, he felt repentent for his outburst, for Mrs. Drewry's kind blue eyes filled with tears as she started to turn away. He reached out impulsively and grabbed her arm, "I'm sorry ma'am," he said humbly, "I really am. Please forgive me. I shouldn't let my anxiety through like that."

She turned and taking his head between her hands responded, "I know, dear boy. I know." Then she kissed his sweaty forehead gently and went back to the barn.

Harry moved off in the other direction, feverishly trying to think of something--but nothing came. Nothing had ever presented itself as a means of retaining the land. They had no money. Even if they had had seed, the ground was salted and would be for unproductive for several years.** There weren't enough trees large enough to sell for lumber. What could he do?

"A fine protector and provider, I am!" he grumbled unhappily to himself. Looking up at the sky, he cried out, "Lord, what shall I do? Poor, dear Mrs. Drewry's heart will break if she has to sell her land! I'm a poor, ignorant young man. All I know is how to till the ground. I cannot do that with salted land." His heart aching, Harry collapsed on a stump and sobbed.

Meredith came to fetch him for supper and found Harry streached out full-length on the ground, fast asleep. His face was swollen with weeping. She knelt beside him and took his shoulders gently. "Harry," she began, "Harry, even if we have to sell, we know that you have done your best and," here he began to stir, "we love you for it."

Harry shook the sleep out of his eyes and propped up on his elbows. Then he rolled over and sat up. Meredith stood looking down at him. Her face was sorrowful, but kind. "Supper's ready, Harry." Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his messy hair. "How can I eat? I cannot think of any means to save the land! I'm completely muddled."

She smiled ever so slightly, "Didn't you hear what I said?"

"What? I guess not if you're referring to anything other than supper," he replied.

Meredith sat down on the stump. "I said," she began, "that even if we lose the land, we all know that you've done your very best...and that we love you for it."

"But have I done my best? Really, truely, honestly. Have I given it my all?" He looked up into a pair of blue eyes. He scrambled to his feet restlessly. Meredith stood up and extended her hand, "Harry, supper's ready."

To be continued...

*I freely admit I have no idea exactly when taxes were due in 1866--the year in question...
**I think...