by Larry Hunt
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
The Promise
The mill is back in partial operation. Sam is doing an excellent job managing the Mill. Jethro, Rube and Dan’l have done splendidly refurbishing the machinery. They grind corn into cornmeal from sunup to sundown. Some days they even grind well past dark. The Mill is once again beginning to become a thriving enterprise.
Back at Scarlett the women folk have been busy too. With most of the men working at the Mill they have in all respects, become the foremen of the workers in the fields.
Since spring, a large garden of vegetables has been planted, the orchard is pruned and fertilized with manure from the stables; fruit is hanging from the fruit trees in abundance.
Bolls of white cotton and leaves of green tobacco are maturing in the hot summer sun. A large field of corn gives every indication it can be harvested any day now. Malinda stands on the porch of the carriage house and surveys all they have accomplished since arriving back to Scarlett. Wiping her brow with her apron, she wonders how much longer it will be before all the fruits of their labor are gathered. She wants, no she needs, to get moving toward that little town in Pennsylvania – Gettysburg. ‘Luke has promised he will take me,’ she muses, ‘and I am going to hold him to it.’
She has been studying the map; the distance to Gettysburg is a tad over five hundred miles, which will take at least a month to get there. She figures once she arrives she will spend a couple of weeks searching on and about the battlefield, and another month to return - the trip will take the better part of three months. She further thinks to avoid getting caught in the snows of winter they should leave Scarlett no later than the first week in September. That will allow them time to be home around the middle of November. This year most of her family is going to be together, and she wants them all to have a real Christmas; although, she knows Robert and Matthew will probably never return. Then her mind returns to Gettysburg, maybe she can find some clue as to their final resting place. Just a small flower or two on their graves would make her feel some closure.
Sary walks out on the porch and takes Malinda’s hand in hers. “What ’ya thinkin’ ‘bout Missy? Yore man Mister Robert and yore boy Matthew?” Malinda nods, tears beginning to form. “That’s what I figured. Listen when you and Luke goes there to that Gettysburg place there ain’t no tellin’ what y’all might find. Now Missy you done keep yer hopes up till you done seed their graves, yer hear?”
Supper is finishing as Luke speaks to Sary, “Would you mind putting Sam and Nate a plate in the oven – they’ll be home soon as they finish up with that last load of corn. It seems everyone in the valley has corn to grind.”
“Are you complaining?” Grins Malinda
“Shucks no! The Mill is doing fine Mother. We couldn’t have hoped for better.”
“Bring your cup of coffee out on the porch, we need to talk.”
Sitting down, Luke inquires, “What’s on your mind Mother?”
“Gettysburg! It’s August already, and the harvest has been slow, but it has already started. I would like you and me to be on the road to Gettysburg no later than sometime next month. Is that possible?”
“Mother, you’re still not thinking about going to Gettysburg, are you? I just believe it will be a long, wasted trip for no reason. Mother we are not going to find out anything about Father or Matthew.”
“You may be right son, but I know I’ll never know sitting here at Scarlett. At least I can see for myself at Gettysburg, and remember you did promise.”
“You’re right Mother. I did promise, and I will never break a promise to you. I’ll begin to get the Mill and farm ready and then you and me, God willing, will start for Gettysburg. I figure I can have everything ready by the middle of September. How’s that?”