CHAPTER 1

Sharpsburg, Maryland, April 20, 1861

Aaron Haskins raced the mile and a half from Sharpsburg to his homeon Antietam Creek. He rushed into the living room and gasped to hisparents, "We're going to war. It's true. It's true. Lincoln's invading us.Virginia's going out. We'll be next."

Still puffing, he thrust a newspaper at his father. "I saw JohnnyWilliams in Sharpsburg, and he said they're going to form a Marylandregiment." He took another quick breath. "They're calling forvolunteers—men who can come right away."

Sucking in air, he barked, "Joel and I are gonna go! We'll leavewhen the Maryland regiment forms at Harpers Ferry." Joel was Aaron'scousin; the boys shared the exact same birthday and had been almostlike twins—twin cousins—all their lives.

As his father scanned the newspaper, Aaron's grin widened. "It lookslike there will be fighting soon."

His mother gasped.

Abigail looked into her son's face. Her eyes swam with emotion,but Aaron could not decipher all that dwelt in that look. He knewshe feared war, but he didn't comprehend the depth of her pain. Hecould see shock and anguish mounting inside her, expanding with eachshallow breath.

"Are you sure, Aaron? Shouldn't you leave the fighting to oldermen?"

Aaron drew back his shoulders and gave her his most charmingsmile. This was a battle he must not lose. He slid onto the worn couchnext to her and squeezed her cold hand. "Ma, we're almost twenty-one.I know you're worried about the danger, but I'll look out for myself. NoYankee can catch me—you know that. We'll get it over and be homefor harvest."

Aaron looked back to his father, who was examining the articleclosely. Robert lifted his head, and their eyes met. Aaron felt reassuredthat his father understood and was proud of his son. Aaron lookedagain to his mother, who remained silent beside him. He had to makeher understand too.

"Ma, I can't just sit here and let Lincoln take away our freedom anddestroy our way of life."

His brow furrowed with concentration. Perching on the settee'sedge, he left one hand in his mother's, while the other gripped thewooden armrest.

"Pa, you know that Joel and I are doing the right thing, don't you?Somebody has to stand up against evil."

Abigail released his hand and fisted her own deeply into the foldsof her apron.

Aaron's hopes sank as Robert said, "I'm not sure, Son. The harvestmay be early this year. I don't know if we can afford to let you boysgo."

Abigail responded quickly. "Yes, yes, you two have to stay forthe harvest. By then the problem will be settled." She picked up hercrocheting and changed the subject. "Aaron, would you run upstairs andget my blue ball of yarn? I'm about out. How do you like this sweaterI'm making for you?"

"But, Ma, don't you see? What if the war is over before we get intoit? I don't want to miss the action. It'll be the greatest adventure of mylife."

Aaron paused for a moment and then continued. "Ma, you justdon't understand what it's like to be a man. Men stand up for right.My great-grandfather was a hero in the American Revolution. I wantto be a hero too."

Abigail wasn't done. "Aaron, my father fought too. He told mewhat it was like. You think that just because men do the fighting, theyknow more than women. You're wrong. Think what it was like whenmothers lost their sons, and wives lost their husbands. War is hard onwomen too."

"Yes, of course," Aaron said. "But what if we don't fight? What ifLincoln takes away our slaves?"

They all were silent for a moment. Aaron's last words hung heavily inthe air. He felt sweat trickling down the small of his back, and his heartwas beating wildly. He found it hard to breathe in the heavy, humid airof early spring. He saw his father's expression change as though he hadmade up his mind.

"Abigail, our boy might be right. It's a good cause, and we can beproud to have our boy defend it. Let's let him have his moment."

Aaron's face lit up with excitement as his father continued. "Wecan find a way to make do without you boys for a while. We've alwaysbeen proud of you, Son, and when you fight for freedom, we couldn'tbe prouder."

Robert removed his spectacles and then added with certainty, "Iremember what my grandfather said about the war for independencefrom England. He said that freedom isn't free. Right now, Lincolnwants to take away our freedom to own slaves, and somebody has to paythe price; somebody has to do the fighting. I'm proud of our son, justlike I'm proud of my grandpa, who fought for freedom in 1776."

The words were barely out of Robert's mouth when Aaron shotforward to grab his father and pull him into a strong hug.

"Thank you, Pa. Lincoln will find out we mean business, and in acouple of months, the whole thing'll be over and our new nation willbe free. Great-Grandpa was right. Freedom isn't free. If I have to, I'llgive the whole summer to make it happen."

"Grandpa would be proud of you," Robert said, releasing his hold.

Aaron moved to his mother and bent to kiss her pale cheek. "I'mgoing to tell Joel right now." He snatched the newspaper from hisfather's hand and was out the door before his mother's tears soaked thesleeve she held before her eyes.

She listened to his pounding feet as he ran for his cousin's cabinacross the stone bridge on Antietam Creek, and then she lookedpainfully at her husband. Robert sat gently beside her. With a smallsigh, she buried her face against his shoulder, clinging to him in herfear and sorrow. He rocked her gently, as he had done with their babes.With time, she regained some control and moved away from him,retreating into herself. He kissed her forehead and then went out to dohis evening chores.

Abigail walked to the door and closed it softly behind him. Sheglanced down at the doily still clutched in her hand and noticed it hadbegun to unravel.

* * *

Aaron sped across the stone bridge and soon stood at the opendoorway of his twin cousin, who had been married to Amy for a month.The run had been less than two hundred yards, but the excitement hadleft him panting.

Amy greeted her husband's cousin with "What do you havethere?"

"It's something I want to show Joel. Where is he?"

Aaron had barely finished speaking, when Joel came up the backsteps, carrying an armful of firewood. His blond hair was askew, andsweat dampened the plaid cotton shirt that hung loosely on his lankyframe. Everybody said the two looked alike, right down to their paleblue eyes and fair complexions.

"I'm right here," Joel said. "What's going on? Is somethingwrong?"

"No! It's right! Read this. Virginia has left the Union!" Aaron shovedthe crumpled paper into Joel's hands and faced his cousin with a wildlybeating heart.

A frown crossed Joel's face as he scanned the words on the page."But just a few weeks ago, they voted not to secede. I guess Lincoln'scall for volunteer troops spooked 'em enough to reconsider."

Aaron moved about the room with excitement. "That's just what theGazette says—Lincoln called for seventy-five thousand troops to invadethe South and force the seven seceded states back into the Union, butit worked just the opposite. Virginia joined the Rebels and became theeighth state to secede. See, it says the Virginians have already taken overthe US arsenal at Harpers Ferry."

With trembling fingers, Aaron pointed to the paper. "JohnnyWilliams told me they're forming a regiment in Maryland to helpVirginia defend the arsenal and keep it from going back to the federalgovernment. Johnny and Lawrence Williams are going. We can join!It's going to be great, Joel!"

"Now, wait just one minute," Amy protested. "We've only beenmarried a month." She glared at the bearer of unwelcome news as shemoved to stand between her husband and the enemy. "I need him here."She wrapped her arms possessively around Joel's waist and pressedher cheek against his heart. Joel closed his arms around his prettywife's shoulders; he looked warily at Aaron while gently stroking Amy'scurls.

Aaron couldn't contain himself; his eyes blazed with frustration ashe gazed at Amy. She was no better than a cat with her fur up. It wasJoel's job to soothe her; he was the husband. All Aaron had to do waskeep away from her claws.

"A lot of wives will have to let their men go for a few weeks.Sometimes you have to sacrifice for what's right. When a monster is atyour door, you defend yourself!" His voice rose, and he looked towardJoel. He hadn't come prepared for this kind of opposition. He coulddepend on the men, but the women were bewilderingly difficult.

Yet Aaron knew this wasn't the real Amy. She would understandlater why her husband needed to be gone for a bit. "We'll be back beforeshe knows you're gone, Joel. You have to do this with me. This is themost important thing we'll ever do. We may never get a chance likethis again."

Aaron wondered why Joel was even hesitating. This was going tobe a war as great as any they had read about in school. Of course Joelwouldn't choose to miss it.

Still, Aaron realized Joel had been caught unprepared and had noanswer for cousin or wife. "Amy and I need to discuss this, Aaron. Yougotta understand that. I have to think about her too. It's a little sudden,and we'll just have to think it over."

Aaron gritted his teeth. He wasn't sure he could control his angerand disappointment, so he turned on his heel and headed for the door."Come find me when you've convinced her, then," he barked over hisshoulder. He lunged for the wooden door and pulled it shut behind himwith such force that it rattled on its hinges.

As the door banged shut, Amy's hands tightened on Joel's shirt. Heheld her closer. There was no way he could leave Amy—yet, as Aaronhad said, thousands of husbands were leaving their wives. Every soldierwho goes to war has to leave his family. Maybe Aaron is right—maybe thecause of Southern freedom is worth it. Maybe ...

He was still holding his wife close when the scent of burneddough drifted across the room. Amy shrieked and rushed to rescue theblackened biscuits. Joel watched her wave at the smoke with a towel.Chuckling, he went to wash for dinner.

He paused and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Growing up,he and Aaron had always complemented each other. Their looks andtemperaments worked together to create a perfect match. He laid hishands against the counter and lowered his head. In all this time, hecouldn't remember failing to support Aaron. Aaron always supportedhim too.

"Joel, supper's ready."

He felt a headache forming and grimaced. "Coming. Smells good,"he joked.

Amy nodded but kept her back turned as she ladled the soup.

Later, Joel lowered himself slowly onto their bed, his neck achingwith the tension Aaron had brought. The ropes beneath the feathermattress creaked, and Joel reminded himself vaguely that he neededto tighten them in the morning. As he searched for a way to resolvethe unfamiliar strain with his bride, his fingers traced patterns of blueand green on the new quilt Amy and their mothers had pieced togetherbefore the wedding.

As Amy braided her hair, Joel noticed that her mirrored eyes reflectedthe fear she felt. With a sigh, he sat up and swung his legs over the sideof the bed. Their eyes locked in the mirror.

"Amy, I hope I don't have to leave you. Aaron just naturally expectedme to go with him. You know how we've always done everythingtogether." He paused and then added, "I love you more than the wholeworld, but lots of men protect their wives in wartime. I just don't knowwhat I should do."

He laid his head against her bare shoulder and softly rubbed herneck, pressing his thumbs into the knots of tension. He stroked hersoftly.

"I'm so glad I have you." His hand trailed down her cheek and ontoher lovely brown hair with its captivating curls.

"I'm so glad I have you too," Amy whispered. She slowly brought herarms up around his waist and moved with him onto their bed, wherethe dark shadow of war was hidden and the cares of life melted into thejoy of togetherness.

Afterward, the newlyweds clung to each other. The spell of theirlove hung in the air, leaving a flush on their cheeks. Neither spoke of thedecision ahead, but it slept between them. That night brought little restas they both reviewed their young lives—their childhoods growing upnear Antietam Creek, the joy of their mutual attraction, their wedding,and the glory of two being one, body and soul. In her fitful sleep, Amy'shand sought Joel's. Finally, they slept peacefully until the morning sunawakened them to life's harsh reality.

CHAPTER 2

Sharpsburg, April 21, 1861

In the early morning light, Joel took a short walk along the creek. Thedew was still heavy on the grass, and it looked to be a pleasant day, buthis thoughts were a tumult of troubles. His feet led him of their ownaccord to his parents' kitchen door. Unlike the original house whereRobert and Abigail lived, this one had no summer kitchen—only anextension of the house itself. No matter how long he lived, that warmkitchen drew him like a divining rod to a source of refreshment andlove.

He entered to the smell of breakfast coffee and bacon. Nattie, thefamily's slave, bustled around the kitchen in a brown cotton dress thathad once belonged to Fannie, Joel's mother. Nattie had embellished itwith a white ruffle from some fabric scraps. Joel watched her turn fromthe stove.

"Lan' sakes, Massa Joel! You liked to scare me to death!" Sheclutched at her well-starched white collar in a melodramatic gesture offear, although he had no doubt she'd known he was there. He chuckledat her joke. He had long been thankful for the close relationship hismother had with their slaves. Joel shared the friendship Fannie hadcreated with Nattie—a relationship that, to an extent, seemed to eclipsethe difference in color and rank.

Nattie smiled. "Did your pretty little wife feed you good thismorning?"

"Yeah, she made her buttery biscuits, eggs and bacon, and a stack ofpancakes so high I couldn't see her sitting across from me."

"Well then, all you'll be getting from me is coffee—and maybeone of these cinnamon rolls." Nattie turned and poured the brew intoa mug. As she passed it to him, he noticed again the shades of brownin the rich brew and in Nattie's hand. He watched the colors swirl inthe cup as he leaned back, content for now to simply be in his mother'skitchen with the sound of Nattie softly humming "Run, Mourner, Run"as she worked. Joel had once asked her about the song she hummed sooften, and Nattie had said it meant he should always run from evil. Hewondered if the song had a hidden meaning.

As he was finishing the cinnamon roll, his mother entered. Onseeing her son, she smiled, but Joel noticed dark circles rimming hereyes. Something had stolen her sleep too. He watched as she pouredherself a cup of coffee and sat beside him.

Joel moved quickly to the purpose of his visit. "Aaron is joining theRebel army. He expects me to go with him. I guess a lot of Sharpsburgmen are going."

"Are you going to go with Aaron?" Fannie asked, her breath seemingto catch and hang suspended in her lungs.

"I don't know. I kept hoping I wouldn't have to decide."

"I hoped so too." The words fell from her lips, and it was as if all theair in her body left with them.

Fannie slumped, holding her fingers over closed lips as though thatwould keep her opinions behind them. Joel reached for her hand andheld it. She never said much about her peace-loving Quaker convictions,but they were an ever-present thread that had mended many problemsin the everyday life of the family. What he suggested went against thatthread. He knew she could not bear to see her son aiming a weapon atanother man and feared another man's weapon aimed at her son.

"I feel like I'm betraying our state if I stay behind—and, maybe evenworse, that I'm betraying Aaron. Since Virginia seceded, Maryland willfollow." He paused a moment, clasping his hands on the scarred table."But most important is Amy. I don't want to leave her alone, Mama. Ilove her with everything I am. I just couldn't bear to leave her."

Fannie squeezed her son's hand. "Of course you don't want to, Son.You love her. I know that. She knows it too. But you have to decide whatJesus wants, not what Aaron—or even Amy—wants."

"It's hard to tell what Jesus wants."