“I do mean your daddy shot Carey’s men,” Cordia confirmed. “And then we helped the townsfolk clean up and start over. We eventually went back to the farm, where we raised you two little angels until we needed to come back here to help Grandma and Grandpa. After Frieda passed away, they needed someone, and I didn’t see any sense in hiring someone when I was capable of doing it myself. Besides, I missed them. Family is very important to both your father and I.”

The girls soaked in the story, and Hope reflected on just how much her parents must’ve loved each other to go through all of that. “But Mama, you didn’t exactly say what happened to Carey Adams. No one in town seems to know, but I think maybe you do.”

“That’s not something we care to talk about, Hopey. You have to remember, Carey was your Uncle Arthur’s nephew, same as your daddy is Aunt Margaret’s nephew, and those were some dark times. Lots of families had lines right down the middle, some for the Union, and some for the Rebs.”

Hope nodded, but she had a feeling her mother had answered her question without doing so directly. She swallowed hard, wondering if her father might be willing to tell her a little bit more since she’d put the pieces together for the most part already.

“You and Daddy sure did have a one in a million kind of love, didn’t you?” Faith asked, her eyes still teary.

“We did. We still do.” Their mother’s face was glowing, and Hope felt a tinge of envy. She doubted she’d ever have her entire face light up at the mention of a man the way her mother’s face was glowing now.

“That’s how I feel about Frankie,” Faith said, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Even though we haven’t had to fight for each other, or go through a war, or nothin’ like that. I think we could survive it, though. Like you and Daddy did.”

“Be thankful you haven’t had to, honey.” Cordia leaned over and wiped a stray tear from her youngest daughter’s eyes. “Men like your father and Frankie’s father fought so that your generation wouldn’t have to. People like Jaris gave their lives for what they believed in, even if we didn’t quite see eye to eye.”

“Was Jaris for slavery then, Mama?” Hope asked, just curious. Being a border state, there were lots of folks in Missouri who were. But the Adams family had never had slaves on their farm.

“No, he was fighting for states’ rights. He didn’t think it was right for the federal government to interfere with the laws of each state,” Cordia explained.

“And was Daddy fighting to free the slaves?” Faith asked, her tears all dried up now.

“Partially. But mostly, your father entered the war because of the guerrilla forces that were sweeping through here at the time. He wanted to do something to combat them. I guess he figured if the Confederacy fell, they’d have to quit their marauding as well.”

“It must’ve been difficult for you to have someone on each side of the war that you loved.” Hope gave her mother a small smile.

“It was, but I wasn’t alone. There were lots of families torn apart.” She let out a loud sigh and brushed a stray strand of curly, dark hair off of her cheek. “I pray nothing like that ever happens to our country again. It was a horrible time.”

“Things aren’t much better now in some parts,” Faith reminded them. “There’s still marauders; they’re just not flying a flag.”

Hope thought about her discussion earlier with her father. What Faith said was true. There were lawless parts of the country for sure, and she’d wanted to go there. Part of her still did. Her mother had defended her home against intruders, a rifle in her hand. Could she do the same thing? Her father was a dead-eye and had taught both of his girls to shoot as soon as they were big enough to hold a gun. She’d never even shot an animal before, though, and couldn’t imagine taking a person’s life, but maybe if the circumstances called for it….

“We don’t have to worry about any of that around here,” Cordia said with a dismissive smile. “Now, we need to be heading home soon. Grandma and Grandpa will be missing us.”

They’d stopped by home to make sure her grandparents had everything they needed before heading out to the farm, but Hope agreed they didn’t need to be left home alone for too long. Grandma had trouble walking anymore, and Grandpa’s shoulder gave him fits from where he’d been shot over twenty years ago. Cordia didn’t like to leave them home alone for more than a couple of hours.

The three of them came to their feet, stretching their backs, and Hope looked around one last time, wondering if she’d ever meander out here again. It had been interesting to see the cemetery. She wondered what may have happened if Jaris Adams had lived. Would her mother have given in and married him instead of her father? Or if she married Will Tucker anyway, would it have caused such a rift in her family that Aunt Margaret would never speak to her nephew again?

As they walked back toward the house, Faith said, “Someday, you’ll need to tell us about Julia.”

“Yes, someday I will. She was a lovely young lady.”

“Why didn’t you name Hope after her then?” Faith asked.

“Because Hope was born just about the time Frieda got sick, and I promised her I’d name a baby after her. She’d done so much for me. She went with me that day, when I went to Springfield to see about your father and Jaris. Without Frieda, I’m not sure I would’ve made it.” She rested a hand on each of her daughter’s shoulders.

Hope had never been fond of her middle name. It always reminded her of a little old lady, but the more she learned about her mother’s caretaker, the more proudly she could call herself Hope Frieda Tucker. She just wondered if she’d ever accomplish anything worthy of having a baby named after her.