Hear the Wind Blow by Mary Downing Hahn Page A

herself right now. Fever does that to a person."
    Rachel bit her lip and edged away from Mama and me. She looked frightened. I guessed she was too young to understand what was happening. "I'm going to look for my doll," she announced loudly.
    "Don't go in the house," I said. "That fire's still smoldering."
    Rachel turned and ran off toward the front of the house. I was inclined to go after her, but Mama grabbed my arm. "What did they do with James Marshall, Haswell?"
    "They left his body here. I put him in the springhouse."
    She nodded. "He'll be safe there till Burton comes home and we can bury him proper."
    Ignoring her remark, I eased Mama down the stone steps to the root cellar. The earth smelled cold and moldy, but I figured a fire would drive off the damp. If I could warm Mama, get some food into her, talk sense to her, she might recover her wits.
    I laid a blanket on the ground for Mama to lie on and piled the others on top of her. Just as I was getting a fire going, I saw Rachel at the top of the steps.
    "Haswell, Mama, look!" She held up her doll. "I found Sophia. She was lying in the yard. And she's not even hurt!"
    Rachel ran down the steps. "Those Yankees must have meant to kidnap her." She hugged the doll tight. "But she escaped."

    "Smart Sophia," I said.
    After Mama and Rachel settled down, I got a fire going to warm them. Then I went off to fetch the captain's horse. I had plans for that animal. As soon as she was strong enough, I meant to put Mama on his back and take her and Rachel to Grandma Colby's farm. It wasn't more than twenty miles down the Winchester Road, way too far for Mama to walk but easy enough for Rachel and me. We'd be safe with Mama's Mama. Old and cranky as she was, Grandma Colby would cure Mama.
    I was relieved to find the horse where I'd left him, still tied to the tree. Despite his Yankee breeding, he was a handsome chestnut with a black tail and mane, almost as splendid as James Marshall's horse, broad across the shoulders and strong-legged, built for riding hard.
    Cautiously I held an apple out. He nickered and rolled his eyes, showing the whites. At the same time he bared his big yellow teeth and pawed the ground with his front hoof. But he took the apple without biting me. I guessed he was too hungry to be particular about taking food from a Rebel.
    While he ate it, I talked to him, pitching my voice soft and low. "You've got good lines," I told him. "Nice mane and tail, too. A little brushing will shine your coat up real pretty."
    He nickered again, but he didn't look so mean. "Maybe you're just tired of being tied to a tree. Most likely you're used to better quarters."
    He watched me come closer. When I reached for the reins, he started pawing the ground again and looking skittish.
    "Don't fret yourself," I whispered. "The captain's gone, and I'm going to take good care of you. I've always wanted a horse like you."

    Though it took all my courage, I moved slowly nearer and untied the reins. "Stay," I said, "stay."
    The horse shivered, but he obeyed. Holding the reins firmly, I started walking back to the house. The horse followed without making a fuss. Despite his evil ways toward people, the captain had trained the animal well.
    One corner of the stable had survived the fire, so I tied the horse there and found hay for him. I also fetched him a pail of water, which meant going to the springhouse. James Marshall lay where I'd left him, as still as ever, his eyes shut, his face sunken, his skin bluish white. Most of the dead I'd seen looked peaceful, but not James Marshall. His face was twisted in pain and anger.
    A terrible sadness fell upon me, shutting out everything but the dead man. Somewhere folks—his father and his mother, his sweetheart, his sister—waited for him to come home, worried about him, missed him. They had no way of knowing they'd never see him again, never hear his voice.
    These thoughts put me in mind of Avery. What if he were dead and no one had told us yet?