Hometown Heroines by Betty Bolte

Author:Betty Bolte
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Published: 2015-02-03T16:00:00+00:00

Winnie Mae Murphree

1863

Southern Hospitality

~

Winnie Mae finished clearing the dishes from the oak table, while her older sister Celia swept the floor of the small home. Song birds entertained the girls through the open window. Supper had been a quiet meal for the two sisters, waiting tensely to hear when their brother's child was born. Winnie Mae longed to see her new niece or nephew, but she had chores to finish.

"Listen," Winnie Mae said, pausing. "I hear a wagon coming." A thrill of fear rippled along her spine. Were their visitors friends or foes?

"Maybe Ma and Aaron are back," Celia replied, hurrying to the window.

Winnie Mae peeked over Celia's shoulder. A small wagon turned into the clearing with her younger brother driving. She rushed out the door, leaving it standing open behind her. She swiftly ran down the front steps and across the yard to meet her mother.

"How is Arminda?" Winnie Mae asked breathlessly. "Did she have the baby? Was it a boy or a girl?"

"Slow down, child." Winnie Mae's mother, Sarah Easley Murphree, stepped down from the wagon and took her daughter's hand. A smile burst onto her face. "It's a little girl."

"A niece!" Winnie Mae cried. "What's her name?"

"Mary Matilda Murphree. And just wait until Isaac sees how sweet she is," Sarah said.

Winnie Mae noticed a worry cross her mother's face, understanding she was concerned her son wouldn't return from fighting with the Confederate Army. He just had to come home to see his daughter, though, Winnie Mae vowed.

"Did Arminda have a hard time, Ma?" Celia asked from the shade of the porch. "Did your jug of spirits help her?"

"Not too bad," Sarah said, walking briskly up the steps and into the house. "I didn't use much of the liquor at all."

Winnie Mae's mother told them about the events of the morning while she ate her supper. "After bit, Aaron will take you two over there and you can see what needs to be done."

"That's fine, Ma," Celia said. At twenty-one years old Celia was a pretty woman, though she had a stern mouth when she wasn't smiling. Luckily, she smiled easily. Her dark eyes twinkled when she was happy. "I'm sure she could use our help today of all days."

"Yes, and we can hold our niece," Winnie Mae added.

Her eighteen years' experience on a small farm had prepared her for helping in any manner of situation, and this one in particular seemed to be more fun than work. She tucked a wayward brown hair back in place and smiled at the thought of holding the tiny baby. Would the baby look more like Isaac or Arminda? Would she have the Murphree mouth? Would the baby's eyes be dark like Celia's, or lighter like her own?

Early that afternoon, Aaron drove them the half-mile to Arminda's house. The buckboard was pulled by two mares, each with a mule colt tagging along. Winnie Mae knew her brother was proud of the horses and colts. Even though only fifteen, he had high hopes for them.

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