Hear the Wind Blow by Mary Downing Hahn

Author:Mary Downing Hahn [Hahn, Mary Downing]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: History, Fiction, Historical, Juvenile Fiction, General, Family, United States, Brothers and Sisters, Siblings, Shenandoah River Valley (Va. And W. Va.) - History - Civil War; 1861-1865, Survival, Military & Wars, Shenandoah River Valley (Va. And W. Va.), United States - History - Civil War; 1861-1865, 19th Century, Death; Grief; Bereavement, Civil War Period (1850-1877), Family & Relationships
ISBN: 9780618181902
Google: xbJOk61kCRUC
Amazon: 0618181903
Publisher: Clarion Books
Published: 2003-05-19T06:00:00+00:00

"All clean and fresh and ready to be tucked into bed." Aunt Hester smiled broadly and gave us each a small kiss.

"Come this way." Aunt Esther led us to the back stairs, the ones usually reserved for servants. "We don't want to disturb Corny and the major."

"Or Mother," Aunt Hester added. "She sleeps so light. The slightest noise wakes her. A mouse creeping across the floor. A creaking step. A cough, a snore."

The aunts took Rachel to a small guest room. Before she left me, Rachel handed me James Marshall's letter. "It fell out of your trousers, too. Good thing I saw it, or it would be burned up in the fire by now."

"What's that?" Aunt Hester asked.

"A letter I promised to mail."

Aunt Esther held out her hand. "I'll see to it, Haswell," she said, "though I can't guarantee the postman will be able to decipher the writing. The ink's faded and the envelope is filthy."

I held on to the letter. "No, thank you, Aunt. I have to write something to go along with it."

"James Marshall wrote it," Rachel put in. "It's for his father, but Haswell wants to say how James Marshall was killed by the Yankees."

Aunt Esther turned to Aunt Hester. "Why, sister, that seems the proper thing to do."

Aunt Hester agreed, and the two of them showed me to my cousin John's old room. The first thing I did when they left was hide the revolver and the bullets, as well as James Marshall's letter, under the mattress. Then I crawled into the big soft bed.

Tired as I was, being in John's room saddened me. The news of his death at Gettysburg had brought on Aunt Caroline's death, Mama had said, for she'd died the very next month, still in mourning for her only child.

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