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“Where is the rest a your regiment?”
“The last I saw, they were outside a Summit.”
“What do you mean, the last you saw? Are they all dead?”
“I don’t know. When I left, they were still alive.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I deserted, Genevieve. I couldn’t fight one more day for somethin’ I didn’t believe in. Not after what I’ve seen. Most a the boys fightin’
with me didn’t even realize what this war is about—that they’re just spillin’ their blood over cotton.”
Ethan took her cold hands in his, rough with cuts. “I understand if you can’t marry me now. I don’t have any money and now I don’t
have any honor.”
“I don’t care if you have any money, Ethan Carter Wate. You are the most honorable man I’ve ever known. And I don’t care if my
daddy thinks our differences are too great to overcome. He’s wrong. You’re home now and we’re gonna get married.”
Genevieve clung to him, afraid he might disappear into thin air if she let go. The smell brought her back to the moment. The rancid
smell of lemons burning, of their lives burning. “We have to head for the river. That’s where Mamma would go. She’d head south toward
Aunt Marguerite’s place.” But Ethan never had time to answer. Someone was coming. Branches were cracking like someone was
thrashing through the brush.
“Get behind me,” Ethan ordered, pushing Genevieve behind him with one arm and grabbing his rifle with the other. The brush parted
and Ivy, Green-brier’s cook, stumbled into view. She was still in her nightgown, black with smoke. She screamed at the sight of the
uniform, too frightened to notice it was gray, not blue.
“Ivy, are you all right?” Genevieve rushed forward to catch the old woman, who was already starting to fall.
“Miss Genevieve, what in the world are you doin’ out here?”
“I was tryin’ to get to Greenbrier. To warn y’all.”
“It’s too late for that, child, and it wouldn’t a done no good. Those Blue Birds broke down the doors and walked right into the house,
like it was their own. They gave the place the once-over to see what they wanted to take, and then they just started settin’ fires.” It was
almost impossible to understand her. She was hysterical, and every few seconds she was wracked with a fit of coughing, choking on
both the smoke and her tears.
“In all my life I never seen the likes a devils like that. Burnin’ a house with women in it. Every one a them will have to answer to God
Almighty Himself in the hereafter.” Ivy’s voice faltered.
It took a moment for Ivy’s words to register.
“What do you mean burnin’ a house with women in it?”
“I’m so sorry, child.”
Genevieve felt her legs buckle beneath her. She knelt in the mud, the rain running down her face, mixing with her tears. Her mother,
her sister, Greenbrier—they were all gone.
Genevieve looked up at the sky.
“God’s the one who’s goin’ to have to answer to me.”
It pulled us out as fast as it had sucked us in. I was staring at the preacher again, and Lena was gone. I could feel her slip away.
Lena?
She didn’t answer. I sat in the church in a cold sweat, sandwiched between Aunt Mercy and Aunt Grace, who were fishing in their purses for
change for the collection basket.
Burning a house with women in it, a house lined with lemon trees. A house where I’d bet Genevieve had lost her locket. A locket engraved with
the day Lena was born, but over a hundred years before. No wonder Lena didn’t want to see the visions. I was starting to agree with her.
There were no coincidences.