ATOP Chapter Eight

"Lemonade, anyone?" Donna backed through the screen door, precariously balancing a tray of glasses with one hand and a pitcher in the other. Katie rushed to retrieve the pitcher. "Thank you, dear... lovely to have a break in the middle of all this chaos, isn't it?" Donna sighed in relief as she sank onto the porch swing beside Jim.

"Aye, makes me feel bad, here an' ye have to host company while ye're planning a wedding," Marjorie jumped from her seat and took the pitcher from Katie. "Go on, lassie, Mac's waitin' fer ye out there. I'll pour the drinks." 

"The company is no bother," Donna smiled, accepting the glass Marjorie offered. "I welcome the chance to get to know you and I'm grateful for all your help. I just wish we had more evenings like this, just to sit and get acquainted. Ah, there... Rob and Myra are coming. Now we're all here. Look at Benjie out there, isn't he darling?"

She settled back comfortably to watch as quite the commotion unfolded on the lawn. Josh was trying to teach Benjie how to stand on his head and Rachel was standing by nervously, prepared to rescue her baby if the danger became too much. Ronnie and Jafe were doing something that was making Mac mad and laughing hysterically all the while, and Mickey was dangling upside-down from a tree, of all things. Rob was swept up in the drama of it all instantly, but Myra managed to escape and fled for the safety of the porch.

"Oh, look at them," she cried happily. "Our Cavalry, all together again... and happy... it makes my heart want to burst with the joy of it all."

"And me want to be out there with them," Jim laughed. "I'm young yet, see if I can't pull a few stunts..."

"Don't you dare hurt yourself," Donna warned darkly as Jim sprinted recklessly down the stairs. "Almost like old times, isn't it?" She nodded to the vacant seat beside her and Myra dropped into it with a happy sigh. 

"Almost..." Myra's smile was bittersweet and Donna nodded in silent agreement.

"There's one member of the Cavalry gone forever," she said softly. "That's one thing that's changed... and look at my son..." her eyes grew sad. Ronnie had taken off across the yard in pursuit of Mac and suddenly went down, clutching his knee.

"Aye, and look at mine," Marjorie shook her head. "He runs... choppy... I guess ye'd say. Never used to be that way. It's taken some getting used to... a piece of my laddie gone like that..."

"I can't imagine..." Donna sat back down again, having stood hastily when Ronnie fell. Rachel was with him now... and he was getting up again... he was alright. But limping more severely than he had been a moment ago. "Ronnie was the fastest boy in Jefferson before the war... It comes and goes, that pain in his knee... sometimes his limp is barely there and at other times he can scarcely walk... I... wonder what happened. He's never told anyone."

"We never did find out much about what went on over there, did we?" Myra reached for the lemonade. "Well, I suppose Josh has told quite a few stories, but..."

"But Ronnie never a word," Donna added. "And sometimes when they start talking about the war, he just gets up and leaves the room. There's pain in his eyes, sometimes... he looks... haunted."

"Aye, the same I've seen in Mackie's eyes," Marjorie murmured. "That faraway look of horror, it is... I hear him crying out at night sometimes... an' I wish... I wish he was just a wee laddie again... and I could just rock him and sing to him and kiss his tears away, the way I used to... make the sun shine for him again... and now there is nothing I really can do... except t'love him and t'show him my love never has and never will change... and t'pray that the Lord will hold him close."

"That's all any of us can do," Donna whispered. Ronnie had limped to the sidelines and was sitting under Emma's reading tree, Benjie crawling all over his lap. Rachel sat beside him, her hand in his. "It's good that he has her," she smiled. "She helps him in a way I never will be able to... she... understands more, I think."

"Did he ever... tell you anything?" Myra frowned.

"A little. And only when I kept asking. Bare facts, mostly. I know where he's been... all the campaigns he was involved in... he told me about finding some babies in France, getting them to safety, told me how he found Rachel and Benjie in an old barn somewhere in Belgium... we know that whole story mostly from Rachel though. He never told me anything about staying behind to distract while the others ran for safety. Once..." she grimaced. "Once I asked about the scar on his forehead... He wouldn't answer me... so I asked over and over, and finally... I'll never forget the look in his eyes... he just looked at me with dark grey eyes so that it sent a shiver down my back... and he said one word. "Bayonet." That... that was all he said."

"Bayonet?" Marjorie drew her breath in. "Lord have mercy, how did that happen?"

"I guess I'll never know." Donna shook her head savagely as if trying to rid herself of dark shadows. "Listen to us, we'll ruin this day with talk like this... Do any of us have a better topic?"

"I have one," Marjorie's face lit up. "A family gathering. This winter. D'ye think any o' ye could come out to Minnesota? It'd be grand t' have all of ye... think of the sledding and skating parties, roasting chestnuts over the fire, talking till all hours of the night... and pillow fights! The Scotts used t' have the grandest pillow fights ye'd ever see..."

The change of topic worked like a charm and within minutes, all three women were elbow deep in winter plans. Out in the yard a baseball game began to organize itself. Rachel scooped Benjie up and ran to deposit him on his grandma's lap to keep him away from flying balls and, most likely, flying Joshes. Ronnie was designated pitcher, something he could do even with his leg bothering him, and soon a grand and glorious and slightly terrifyingly-chaotic game was underway.