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her entrance.
    A low groan came, and the sound of the newspaper being thrown to the floor came from the parlor before the front screen door creaked open and then slammed shut.
    Mama was the first to break the silence. “Elizabeth Fay, you shouldn’t be noticing men at your age. You’re not even old enough to court.”
    June placed her hands on her hips, matching her mother’s stance. “But, Mama…I heard Lizbeth say that Yankee’s the only available man on the peninsula over the age of ten, besides Old Man Goodman.” June cocked her head. “And if you ask me, Old Man Goodman is ugly as a mud fence and older than the dirt they built it with.”
    The tension instantly melted from Margaret’s shoulders. She put one hand over her mouth while the other steadied her belly to keep from laughing out loud at her little sister’s illuminating outburst.
    Mama turned her back so the girls couldn’t see her face. There was a slight bounce of Mama’s shoulders before she grabbed hold of the counter and picked up a potholder to fan herself.
    The look of horror on Elizabeth’s face revealed how June’s statement affected her.
    Mama seemed to be searching for the right words to say.
    Tears began to flow down Elizabeth’s cheeks. She ran from the kitchen. A few seconds later, the bedroom door slammed.
    Mama’s eyes were dancing with laughter.
    Margaret began to laugh and fell into Mama’s arms. Margaret pulled her baby sister into their embrace and hugged her tightly.
    June had a bewildered look on her face. She looked up at Mama and Margaret and shrugged her shoulders. “Mama, sissy, why did Lizbeth run off…and what in the world are y’all laughing at anyway?”
    ~*~
    Margaret sat on the top stair in front of the house. A graceful roseate spoonbill swooped down, diving into the drainage pond that ran along the property line. A cool coastal breeze danced through acres of purple lovegrass. Gusts of wind rushed through the wheatgrass like waves crashing on the beach.
    Elizabeth was still crying in the bedroom.
    Her parents had put their family in danger by harboring the Union sailor in their home. Margaret slammed her fist against the wooden stair rail and grabbed her hand, wincing in pain. Why am I acting like this? I’ve never had a temper. That stranger has me all tied up in knots! She rubbed the side of her hand, feeling remorseful over her outburst. She should go to her sister and comfort her, but she was so upset with everyone in her family that Elizabeth would have to cry it out.
    Her Jeffrey had always been clean-cut and clean-shaven. His hair would never have behaved like Thomas’s—so wavy and dark…framing his handsome…
    She buried her face in her hands and tried to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. How could her sister possibly think that Yankee was handsome? Thomas’s long hair was overdue for a trim. He looked like a vagabond in his tattered uniform with unkempt facial hair, and those eyes…those steel-blue eyes.
    Margaret grasped her head in her hands. What’s wrong with me? Do I so desperately miss the love of a man that I would consider the likes of that Yankee? “Oh, Lord, why did you have to take my Jeffrey away from me and only months before we were to marry?” She didn’t bother wiping the tears away. She’d lost the love of her life, her home, and everything that was familiar. The war took nothing and no one into consideration. Young, old, man, woman, or beast, everyone suffered equally. Even the trip from Louisiana was a grueling ordeal that left its mark on the whole family—the checkpoints, the beggars, the gunfire, and the bodies…so many bodies of dead soldier boys.
    And Mama, her belly about to burst with the twins. Margaret thought it cruel and merciless for God to make Mama carry a dead baby in her womb all the way across Louisiana. But it did seem the standard of the day they lived in. There was no fairness anymore—not for anyone.
    She and her younger sisters had seen more