“What’s that dog whinin’ about now?” Ginny complained.

Michael groaned but pushed himself off the couch, “I’ll go check. She prob’ly wants back in. She’s just a pup, y’know.”

The breeze blew the curtains from the open window as he made his way trudgingly to the back door. A chill ran down Michael’s spine as he stopped in his tracks. Ginny let the glass she was drying slip from her hands and neither of them moved until it crashed to the floor, shattering fragments that scattered across the kitchen.

A young man, dressed in Confederate grey, stood outside their window; staring intensely at the two of them. He nodded once, and Michael nodded back. The soldier looked toward Ginny, frowned slightly, then shook his head and turned away.

Michael crossed the room and yanked the curtains back. As he watched, the soldier faded away with each step across the lawn.

A scratch and a yelp at the door startled them both. Ginny opened the door and let in the dog with a sigh.

“I think you’re forgiven tonight.”