![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Rather, she would weep genteel, the way Savannah Turner now wept as her two elder sons embraced her. Even when they did escape-and she knew they would-she would not sob. She would keep her tears from streaming over her cheeks for as long as she was able. So she would compose herself now in this moment of further heartache-of near heartbreak. She knew now her weakness and sobbing had made leaving all the more difficult for Sam and Augie-more difficult for her mother to remain poised and courageous in the face of sending her sons to battle-more difficult for her father to stay behind and watch them go. She had been too weak then, wildly sobbing with heartache at watching her dear brothers ride off to war. She must be brave-or at least appear braver than she had been months before when Samuel and Augustus left to enlist. ![]() Turner-tried to ignore the bitter sting of hot tears brimming in her eyes. You are the rarest sort of treasure found on earth! Library of Congress Control Number: 2012954131 ©Rick Sargeant/ and ©Roywylam/Ĭover Design and Interior Graphics by Sandy Ann Allred/Timeless AllureĪll character names and personalities in this work of fiction are entirely fictional,Ĭreated solely in the imagination of the author.Īny resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.īeneath the Honeysuckle Vine: a novel/by Marcia Lynn McClure. Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, the contents of this book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or distributed in any part or by any means without the prior written consent of the author and/or publisher.Ĭover Photography by ©Daveallenphoto/, Beneath the Honeysuckle Vine by Marcia Lynn McClureĪll rights reserved. ![]()
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