Lou fixed things, made things with iron and wit. Alex made music and found tunes and calls to paint pictures for others to see, hear and feel.
The twins had seen the Yankees shoot down their brother and father at their own place not a month ago. In the barn loft during the raid Alex had held on to Lou as hard as he could and somehow restrained her during the killing and thieving. The Yankees had murdered their kin and stolen three teams of fine-trained mules and harnesses, along with six fifty pound bags of feed. It was no real comfort, but the thieves had missed two good teams, three mares and three jack studs. They were up at Joe T.'s place pastured with his two mares that were in heat. There would be a new generation of Fields - Mayberry mules come next fall, but breeding and training mules seemed a trifling matter now to Lou. She had a more urgent calling to be about now.
"I'm leaving tomorrow at sunrise, J. N. We're leaving," she looked at Alex with kindness, correcting her statement. "You can come or stay, makes no difference," she announced slowly and strongly. Then as if giving a report, "I'll be packing my tools and some necessities on Ben and I'll ride Tom. I'll go down the valley along the Huntsville stage road and find the General or somebody who knows where he and his troops are. Jim said there were over a thousand horse soldiers in this part of the valley. That many can't be hard to find. They'll take me. I'll make 'em. I'm as good a farrier as any they have." Even in her determination she knew she wouldn't make a good soldier. J. N. was the marksman of the family. Besides, she was too fond of the creatures of her valley to shooting anything, man or animal.
She'd made up her mind to help those folks who could kill, work for those who were trying to rid the land of those murdering strangers who had cursed and destroyed her world. She'd tend to their mounts and they'd beat and kill the thieving murderers. Justice required it, she reasoned through her loss and anger.
J. N. could not really question her logic, and it didn't look as if he was going to shake her resolve. Alex had sat stone-faced staring at his sister, his eyes bright and shining, his mouth tight. He turned from her and looked at the wall beside the back door. His eyes latched onto his bullhorn hanging by its leather strap.
"Okay, Sister, okay," he confirmed. "If they take you as a farrier they'll take me as a bugler. I'm as good at that as you are with shoeing and doctoring stock. We go, both of us. I'll ride Bess and we'll take what we need on Ben and Tess. Bess likes me and she rides good." Pausing, he blew out breath hard, "Lord Almighty, we're going to war!"