Chapter One The Returning Cavalryman

Jack dismounted. His boots crossed splintered boards and ash. With every step, memory rose through the soles of his feet. His mother hanging wash at the door. William stealing his hat. Thomas Walker teaching him to rope a horse and saying, "A man out here can be poor, but he cannot let another man decide whether he kneels." The words now sat in Jack's throat like a lead ball. A crude wooden marker stood at the grave. Mary Walker. His mother. No stone. No flowers. No minister's blessing. Only a name warped by rain. Jack removed his hat and went down on one knee. He had seen too many dead men in the war. He had seen bodies torn open by artillery and friends calling for their mothers in the mud.