Hear the Wind Blow (21 page)

"I gave you up for dead." Rachel's eyes filled with tears. "I thought I'd be living with Grandma Colby the rest of my days."

"Well, here I am, safe and sound." As I spoke, a little shiver ran up and down my neck, prickling the hair on my scalp. What if I wasn't safe after all? What if Major Dennison had left word that I was to be arrested for horse theft?

"Is anybody looking for me, Rachel?" I asked. "Am I wanted for horse theft or breaking out of jail or anything of that sort?"

Rachel gave me one of her squinty-eyed looks. "I've been mad enough to hang you ten times over for running off," she said. "But I highly doubt the Yankees give a hoot what happens to you. No matter what you think, you aren't all that important, Haswell." So saying, she tossed her head and turned her attention to Avery. I guess she believed she'd put me in my place, and I suppose she had. Nonetheless, I was mighty glad to hear my face wasn't on wanted posters all over town.

The aunts came up to me then and commenced to hug me and fuss over me till I thought I'd be smothered. Like Rachel, they'd never expected me to return alive.

"And to think you found Avery and brought him home safe," Aunt Hester exclaimed.

"We prayed every night for you both," Aunt Esther said. "It seems the good Lord heard our prayers." She turned her face up and stared at the ceiling as if she could see right through it, all the way to heaven. "Thank you, merciful Father, for sending Haswell and Avery home to us."

"Amen," Aunt Hester added solemnly.

"From the looks of you, I reckon you boys are starving." Aunt Esther took my hand and Aunt Hester took Avery's. With Rachel clinging to my other hand, we headed for the kitchen.

At the aunts' insistence, Avery and I took seats at the kitchen table. While the aunts stirred a kettle of stew already simmering on the stove, Rachel opened the oven and took out a sheet of biscuits.

"Just look at these, Haswell. I made them all by myself."

"Why, they look just as tasty as Mama's," I said. Rachel's face turned pink.

"I've learned to be a good cook," Rachel told Avery and me. "Isn't that so, aunts?"

"Yes, indeed," said Aunt Hester. "You'll be amazed at what that child can do."

"I don't know how we would have survived without her," Aunt Esther agreed. "Mother has been feeling too poorly to be of any help."

"And Corny has been a downright nuisance," Aunt Hester put in.

"Where
are
Grandma Colby and Uncle Cornelius?" I asked. "I thought they'd have come to greet us before now."

"Uncle Cornelius is most likely holed up in his library, having a glass of whiskey," Rachel said, "but Grandma Colby took to her bed when she heard of Lee's surrender. She claims she'd rather die than turn Yankee, but I think she just wants to be waited on."

"Now, Rachel," Aunt Esther said, "Mother is an old lady. She needs us to care for her."

"Yes," Aunt Hester agreed. "She cared for us when we were children, so we must—"

A bell on the kitchen wall jangled. "Oh, that's Mother now," Aunt Esther said, "wanting her supper."

Aunt Hester ladled stew into a bowl and set it down on a tray with Rachel's biscuits. Aunt Esther poured a cup of tea and set it beside the stew.

Handing the tray to Rachel, Aunt Hester said, "Please take this to your grandmother."

Without a word of protest, Rachel traipsed upstairs with the tray. It seemed Rachel's stay in Winchester had improved her attitude as well as her cooking skills.

She'd no sooner disappeared than Uncle Cornelius shuffled into the kitchen. He looked as if he'd aged ten years since I'd last seen him. His hair was almost white, and he leaned heavily on a cane.

"Lord Almighty," he muttered, "it's you, Haswell, come back to vex my old age. Though what else you can do to humiliate me lies beyond my imagining."

Before I had a chance to say a word, Uncle Cornelius noticed Avery. "Who the devil are you?"

My brother stepped forward. "I'm Avery Magruder," he said, "your sister Rebecca's son, just back from the war."

Avery held out his hand, but Uncle Cornelius was too busy fumbling in his pockets for a pair of spectacles to notice. After adjusting them on his nose, he peered more closely at Avery. "Oh, Lord, you and John, such handsome young fellows ... and now,and now..."

His voice began to shake, and he turned his attention to the bowls Aunt Hester was setting on the table. "What's this? Carrots and potatoes again?"

"You should be glad to have it," Aunt Hester said. "There's many a starving person in this town who'd eat it without complaining."

"For the love of heaven, don't start playing that tune again." Uncle Cornelius sat down heavily and stared into the fire burning on the kitchen hearth. "The war," he muttered, "I swear it's ruined me."

Rachel came downstairs and took a seat at the table. Ignoring her uncle, she began eating her stew.

Uncle Cornelius jerked his head in my direction. "I was doing fine until that boy came and disrupted my affairs. He turned the major against me. We haven't had a decent meal since the man left."

"Now, now, Corny." Aunt Hester went to her brother's side. "Calm yourself. You know what the doctor told you about agitating your heart."

"Major Dennison left our house because he was ordered into battle," Aunt Esther added soothingly. "It had nothing to do with Haswell's behavior. Nothing at all."

"I find I have lost my appetite." Uncle Cornelius rose slowly to his feet, leaving his food almost untouched, and turned away from the table.

"Where are you going, Corny?" Aunt Hester called after him.

"Please finish your meal," Aunt Esther implored.

Without looking at any of us, Uncle Cornelius left the room and made his way upstairs, thumping his cane on each step.

Except for Rachel's chatter, we finished our meal in silence. It wasn't the homecoming I'd hoped for, but I wasn't completely surprised. Uncle Cornelius had never been an easy man to talk to; even Papa had found him difficult. "Querulous" was his word for him, and easy to take offense. As for Grandma Colby, I was grateful she hadn't made an appearance yet, for she was bound to create a scene of some sort. The poor aunts looked worn out from trying to make peace.

I don't know how long we would have sat there if Grandma Colby's bell hadn't startled us into action. Aunt Hester scurried upstairs and soon came clattering down again.

"Haswell and Avery," she said, "Mother would very much like to see you."

Avery rose quickly, as if he still hoped for a warm welcome, but I wasn't eager to see Grandma Colby. I doubted she'd forgiven me for stealing a horse and disgracing the Colby name. Rachel followed us upstairs. Though no one had mentioned her, I reckoned she didn't want to miss the fireworks she was expecting.

F
ROM HER BED
, Grandma Colby watched the three of us enter her room. She was propped up on pillows. A tall walnut headboard, carved with curlicues and flowers, towered above her. As Rachel had said, she didn't appear to be ill. Her eyes were as sharp as ever. I reckoned she meant to keep the Grim Reaper waiting a long while yet.

"Well," Grandma Colby said in a firm voice, "it seems the prodigal grandsons have returned after all. I never thought to see either of you again. Not in this world, that is."

Avery approached the bed and took Grandma Colby's bony little hand. "I'm glad to see you, ma'am," he said politely.

She nodded and peered past Avery at me. "Stop cringing in the doorway, Haswell. I haven't the strength to give you the beating you so roundly deserve."

I stepped forward reluctantly. "I never meant to shame you, ma'am," I said. "I didn't steal Ranger. Major Dennison had no right to him."

While the aunts, who had followed us up, took their places on either side of the bed, Grandma Colby sighed. "Well, I must say you did indeed mortify me, Haswell, but at least you showed the Colby spirit, standing up for yourself like that. Came to you from your grandfather, God rest his soul. He was a man among men. It's a good thing he's not here to see the state of the South today."

She fidgeted with the lace edging on her sheet. "For a while I feared you might take after your father's side of the family. The Magruders were always a spineless bunch, mooning over poetry and such, never much for action."

Beside me, I felt Avery draw his breath in hard, but before he could defend our father, Grandma eyed him sharply. "Don't you start talking about your brave deeds in battle, young man. The war never should have been fought. Anyone who indulges in such nonsense is a fool, whether he lives or he dies. Just look where fighting got us. Death and ruination everywhere."

She paused to cough into a lace handkerchief and then frowned at Rachel. "Take that thumb out of your mouth. You're seven years old. A young lady, not a baby."

Rachel removed her thumb and carefully wiped it on her dress.

"Just what are you doing in here anyway, Miss Nosy? Don't I see enough of you as it is?"

Rachel took my hand. Her thumb was still damp but I didn't snatch my hand away in distaste as I once would have.

Grandma Colby returned her attention to Avery and me. "What are you boys aiming to do now?"

Avery spoke right up. "Why, we'll go back to the farm, Grandma, and try to eke a living out of the land."

"I don't know how you'll do that. Hasn't Haswell told you the Yankees burned your house and barn and stole your livestock?"

"Yes, ma'am, he told me all about it." Avery straightened his shoulders. "But we'll manage. Magruders don't give up, no matter what the odds are."

"Is that right?" Grandma Colby eyed him coldly. It was clear she didn't agree with Avery's opinion of Papa's family.

"Yes'm," I put in. "Magruders have plenty of spirit."

Grandma Colby laid her head back on the pillows and gazed at the ceiling. "Well," she said without looking at anyone, "I reckon you'd better take yourselves down there and see for yourselves. As soon as Avery recovers, that is. Any fool can see he needs rest and food."

Rachel seized my hand. "Can we go home, Haswell? Can we?"

"You'd better stay right here, Rachel," Grandma Colby said. "Your brothers have men's business to tend to. They don't want a pesky little girl tagging along after them."

Rachel squeezed my hand tighter and drew in her breath to protest. Before she could say a word, Avery spoke up. "I think we need to be together, all three of us."

"Do as you wish," Grandma Colby said. "Magruders always have been as stubborn as mules." With that she closed her eyes and made it clear she wished to sleep.

Dismissed, we followed the aunts to the door. But Grandma Colby wasn't quite done. "For heaven's sake," she called after us, "take a bath before you sleep on my clean sheets. You boys are stinking up the entire house. It smells like a pig farm in here."

***

As it turned out, Avery was in no shape to head for the farm any time soon. In fact, we ended up lingering in Winchester for almost a month to give him time to build up his strength. The aunts fed him as best they could and insisted he rest in the afternoons. Grandma Colby arose from her sickbed and oversaw Rachel and me, making sure we did all the chores she could think of. She had me chopping wood to last through next winter and making repairs to the steps and shutters and anything else that needed fixing, including an old buggy. Why she needed a buggy when she didn't own a horse to pull it was beyond my reasoning. But I did my best to restore it to working condition.

The old woman kept Rachel busy sewing and mending alongside the aunts. Every now and then Rachel stuck her finger with the needle. Grandma Colby gave her no sympathy, just fussed at her for getting blood on the linens.

Grandma Colby left Avery alone. Didn't make him do a thing. All day long he lay around reading books on agriculture. Sometimes he drew Uncle Cornelius into long conversations about the study and practice of law. Grandma Colby even told the aunts to make sure Avery had all the tea he wanted. Not that I minded. Avery had been through worse days than any of us. He deserved all the cosseting he could get.

Slowly the color returned to Avery's face. He was getting stronger, too. Though he still suffered fearsome headaches from his wound, he said they weren't as bad as they used to be. He smiled more and joked with the aunts, which pleased them no end. I guessed they'd never had much to laugh about living with Grandma Colby all those years.

At last the time came when Avery felt fit enough to set out for the farm. The morning we left, Grandma Colby loaned us the very buggy she'd made me repair.

"That child cannot possibly walk all the way home." To my surprise, the old woman gave Rachel a tender look, the first I'd ever seen her bestow on anyone. Then, as if she couldn't bear being soft, she added, "She's bound to dawdle and daydream and fuss. You'd never make it to the farm before nightfall."

I hushed Rachel with a tiny pinch. If she got sassy with Grandma Colby, the old lady might change her mind about the buggy.

The aunts gave us two loaves of fresh-made bread and apples from the fruit cellar, along with ajar of peach preserves and enough dried beans to see us through the summer. "I wish we had more to spare," Aunt Hester said.

Grandma Colby vanished into the house only to return a few moments later with Uncle Cornelius in tow, his arms filled with blankets. "Here," she said sharply. "Take these old things. We don't need them. They just attract moths."

Turning her attention to Rachel, she held up Sophia. "I believe you forgot this."

Rachel, her face flushed, grabbed the doll and hugged it to her chest.

"I swear to the Lord, you need someone watching over you every second of the day," Grandma Colby muttered. "You're so forgetful it's hard to believe you have a brain in your head."

Rachel hid her face in Sophia's dress and said nothing.

"You might thank me."

"Thank you, Grandma Colby," Rachel whispered.

The old woman sniffed. "That's all right, then."

With everyone watching, I harnessed Ranger to the buggy. It was clear he'd never pulled anything before and didn't care to start now, but I talked to him real soft. There were things that I hated doing, I whispered to him, like chopping firewood, but I did them anyway because it was my duty. Well, Ranger had a duty now and that was to pull a little old buggy so Rachel and Avery wouldn't get tired walking. It took me a while to persuade him, but finally he settled down and let me lead him a few steps.