Excerpt from In the Valley by Ron Rash, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"Yes, Sergeant," Allen said, staring at Rebecca as he spoke. "They'll not face us like soldiers. They leave their women and children behind to do that."

"I've got no man," Rebecca said.

"What about them children," the sergeant scoffed. "They just sprout out of the ground like toadstools?"

"My husband's dead."

"Dead," Allen said skeptically. "How long has he been dead?"

"She's lying," the sergeant said when she hesitated. "Him and some of his bluebelly neighbors is probably beading us right now."

"Aaron's been dead two years," Rebecca said.

The sun had climbed the ridge now, and yellow light settled on the yard and cabin. The fog began unknitting into loose gray strands and all could be seen—­the outhouse and spring, the barn where a ham wrapped in cheesecloth hung from a rafter, stored above it hay for the calf her closest neighbor, Ira Wilkey, would bring once it was weaned. Unlike many in Shelton Laurel, Ira had enough land to hide his livestock, so offered the calf for a quilt Rebecca made from what clothing Aaron left behind. We'll not make it through these times if we don't look after each other, Ira answered when she protested the trade was unfair to him.

The sergeant stepped to the side of the cabin, his eyes sweeping the clearing.

"I don't see no grave."

"Aaron ain't buried here," Rebecca said.

"No?" Allen said. "Where then?"

"In Asheville."

"Which cemetery in Asheville?" the sergeant asked.

"I can't remember its name," Rebecca said.

"I told you what we do to liars," Allen said.

"I argue he's close by, sir," the sergeant said. "He could be hiding in the barn."

"Take two men and go look, Corporal," Allen said to the man with the eye patch.

"Where's your pa, boy?" the sergeant asked.

Behind them now, Rebecca pulled the overcoat tighter around the children.

"All he knows is his daddy's dead."

"That right, son?" Allen asked. "Your pa's dead?"

"Tell him your daddy's dead," Rebecca said.

"Yes, sir," Ezra said softly.

"Where's he buried, boy?" the sergeant asked.

"He don't know none of that," Rebecca said.

"That right, son?" Allen asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir, what? You know or you don't know?"

Ezra looked at the ground.

"I don't know," he whispered.

"I can likely guess some places," Allen said to his sergeant. "Can't you?"

"Antietam or Gettysburg maybe."

"I'd say more likely Tennessee, since they head west to join. Shiloh or Stones River, there or maybe Donaldson."

At the last word Rebecca's right hand clutched Hannah's shoulder so hard the child gave a sharp cry.

"So it was Donaldson," the sergeant said.

Rebecca didn't respond.

"My first cousin was killed at Donaldson," Allen said. "A good man with children no older than those you got your hands on."

"I had a friend killed there," the sergeant added. "Grapeshot ripped his legs off."

The two men said nothing more, appearing to expect some response. The corporal and the two men came out of the barn.

"Ain't no one hiding in there," the corporal said, "but there's a ham curing and it's enough to give some bully soldiers a full feeding."

One of the men whooped and slapped a palm twice against his belly.

"What else is in the barn?" Allen asked.

"No livestock," the corporal said, "but enough hay to make a pretty fire."

The only sound was the snort of a horse as Rebecca and the men waited for Colonel Allen to give his orders. Soldiers. That was what the corporal claimed them to be. Rebecca thought of the men sketched in the newspapers her father-­in-­law had brought with Aaron's letters in the war's first months. Those soldiers wore plumed hats and buttoned jackets, sabers and sashes strapped on their waists. They looked heroic and Rebecca knew that many, like Aaron, had been. Some of these men before her were surely heroic at one time too, but now their ill-­matched clothing offered no sign of allegiance except to their own thievery.

Excerpted from In the Valley by Ron Rash. Copyright © 2020 by Ron Rash. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.