I looked out over the mighty Ohio every single day.  There was no Oliver, no Armstrong, and of course, no father or brother.  My mother has come to stay with us, which caused me to heal quicker than I was ready.  She forced me out of bed. 

We are not safe with only two older men to help, and Patrick is worn thin.  Mae, mother, and myself, all had to learn our way around the kitchen without Mimi.  Claire has been essential, although she is quiet and keeps to herself.  At times I wonder if she herself has experienced trauma. 

My mother accuses me of not being proper with my children.  She says I've distanced them, but it's not true.  I fear for their safety.  I just want them to survive. 

John and Richard Morgan were captured in the Ohio territory, only to escape back into the deep south.  Armstrong tried to hide things from me, but of course I know now that the next cost my family will pay.  He was drafted by Lincoln, so now nobody is here to protect me.  Patrick is here for his wife and child, the Uncles are half out of their minds, and to make all seem lost, my mother pours her time into my remaining children. 

Maybe this world would be better off without men.  I paid dearly for my husband sins.  He watched and did nothing as a woman was raped, so I paid his penance. 

I keep a revolver on me at all times now.  Mother has taken over as lady of the house, so the best place for me is right where I'm at, keeping watch across the rolling hills of southern Indiana. 

My mother was able to spare horses and brought them with the assistance of men from back home.  The men only spent a few days with us before they had to return home for their families. 

Louis is now the man running my family business back home.  Patrick is unable to stand proxy for Oliver in Armstrongs absence.  Uncle Wilford  is standing in, but that will only work for a short time.  In Armstrong's absence, they found their TNT, and are up to their old tricks. 

Armstrong said Oliver has been injured, and his father was killed at Gettysburg.  That was months ago, and I've not seen or heard from him.  It's likely they put him back in service.  I've also not heard from Armstrong. 

I always head back to home at dinnertime, then wake early and come back out. I have to be ready well before sun up, since that's when Morgan raided our home. 

Mother and Mae say I need to quit obsessing.  This is not obsessing, it's surviving.  Morgan and his men escaped, so he could easily return just as Thomas Vest did all that time ago.

I haven't visited my daughters grave.  I wasn't there when they buried her with Bub and Mimi.  They say I almost bled to death, and I can say death would have been easier than the day my family pried my daughter out of my arms. 

I overheard my mother and Mae saying they believe I've gone mad.  Maybe they're right, but maybe I'm just trying to keep it together by protecting everyone.  The only one that seems to understand is Patrick.  Mae still carries her child within, but mine is buried deep below the earth.  She can speak of madness only after she aquires more scars on her body and soul. 

My sister has been so well protected from the physical and mental tortures of this world.  Sure, she never had the opportunities I've had, but she is happy in her life.  She and Patrick now share a marital bed.  I can hear her giggling at night and their love making. I have a cold bed and an empty womb to remind me of the cruelties of this world.

I might be sore toward Mae at this moment as her midsection swells, and the father of her child protects her, but it's still my duty to take care of her, because I do love her tremendously. 

I've never had such a thing.  Oliver was gone for both my pregnancies.  He was gone when Vest came, and again when the Morgan's raided. 

I was told nearly two months ago that my husband would return.  I've honestly dreaded his homecoming.  My body has been nothing but a cruel satisfaction for several evil men now.  I even used it to pay revenge on him.  I don't ever want to be touched by any man.  Even the thought of my husband touching me makes me feel sick.

I'm not going mad, it's the reality of life.  None of them know the harsh reality of what lies out in the shadows waiting for the chance to hurt us.  They refuse to see it, and call me mad for wanting to protect them from it.  My children barely know me anymore, as I barely know myself. 

As I headed in after the sun tried to fade, I saw a shadow in the barn.  I slid off my horse and quietly made my way close enough to peek inside. I saw the shadow again and pointed my revolver.

"State your business."  I ordered.  The man looked shocked.  "It's me, put down the gun."

"I don't know you. You're with her?"  I pointed straight at him.

"Who, Mrs. Westlake?"  He tried to approach me, but I gave a warning shot. 

"Put the gun down Naomi, it's only me."  He walked into the last remaining sunlight.

"Patrick?" 

"Yes, now put down the gun."  He said.  I dropped to my knees. My hands shook as he slowly pried the gun out of my hands. 

"I thought you were him."  I cried.

"Who did you think I was?  Who did you think was with me?" 

Patrick kneeled down next to me and wrapped his arms around me.

"The Morgan's and Claudine."  I cried.

He sighed. "I wish I knew how to help you.  They're not coming back.  There's Union forces here now and we are safe."

I sobbed.  "You can't help me.  I can't even help myself."