“Yankees got her the second day they was at our place,” Sarah confided.
“Well, there you have it.”
Billy wrinkled his nose. “What are you smoking?”
“Smells wretched, don’t it?” Old man Taylor looked askance at his pipe. “Chokecherry bark and grape leaves. You can’t find a twist of tobacco in this country to save your life. So I made this up. It ain’t the same, but at least it feels like normal.”
“Well, maybe we’ll find something down to Pratt’s store,” Sarah said, voice soft to mask her disappointment.
“I’ll save you the trip, Miss Hancock,” Taylor told her. “There’s nothing to be had. Shelves are empty but for some crockery. Same in Bentonville and Fayetteville.” He paused for effect. “Come right down to it, bellies is going to grow a mite tight until crops come up.”
“We don’t need much,” Sarah insisted, giving him her best beguiling smile. “Just a jar of flour. Maybe the same of cornmeal. Maw’s birthday is coming up, and we wanted to make her a special celebration.”
“Ah, you must have had good news then. I’d been worried.”
“About what?” Billy crossed his arms.
“About the battle. Knowing your Paw, James, and Butler was involved, and given the number of the dead…”
“They’re in Mississippi,” Sarah insisted. “They were nowhere close to here, sir.”
Taylor narrowed an eye. “It’s the big battle at Shiloh Church that I’m talking about. Pittsburg Landing. That one.”
Billy and Sarah glanced at each other, mystified.
Billy spoke first: “Where’s Shiloh Church?”
“Tennessee, just north of Corinth, Mississippi. Albert Sidney Johnston marched forty thousand men up to beat the Federals. They fought for nearly three days. Near two thousand Secesh killed … another eight thousand wounded. A quarter of the Reb army … gone. Just like that.”
He waved his pipe stem at the surroundings. “Makes what happened around here seem like child’s play. Van Dorn only lost fifteen hundred dead and wounded. Not even a tenth of his army.”
Sarah had gone white, swallowing hard. “We hadn’t heard. God, I hope Paw and Butler are all right. And we have another brother there. Philip. He’s a surgeon with the Fourth Tennessee.”
“At least he’d have been out of the fight and safe.”
She shook her head slowly, and Billy could see the pain and panic behind her eyes as she said, “I know what it’s like, Mr. Taylor. Caring for them while they’re crying and dying. Washing away the blood, seeing the life drain out of them. It’s a horror if Paw or Butler was shot or butchered, but a nightmare if Philip had to watch them die.”
“So.” Billy shifted uneasily, wondering if Paw were even alive to bring him that new rifle. “Did the South surrender? Does this mean they’re whipped and the war’s over?”
“Just the opposite, young Billy.” He pointed at the telegraph wire, recently fixed after the battle. “The Confederate congress passed a conscription bill a week or so back. They are going to fight it out to the bitter end.”
“What’s a conscription bill?” Billy cocked his head.
“Conscription,” Sarah told him. “It means they can order you to be a soldier with a stroke of the pen.”
“Anyone over eighteen,” Taylor agreed. “Local governments, mayors, county men, the voting precincts. The government can impress you into the service.”
“Then, since I’m fifteen, they can’t touch me.”
Taylor shrugged, but Sarah turned on him, eyes fiery blue. She jabbed a finger into his chest. “You listen to me, Billy Hancock. Don’t let ’em catch you. I was with them soldiers, and I know it as God’s truth. Some of them were fifteen, and they didn’t look nothing like as old as you do. We got enough men in the fight with Paw, Butler, and Philip. We’re doing our share.”
Taylor pulled the pipe from his mouth, adding, “I’d listen to your sister, Billy. I’ve had just about everybody through here, Confederates, Yankees, state militia, Indian regiments, and God alone knows who’s going to be next. This I can tell you, having heard them all: it’s going to be a long war, and before it’s over, they’re going to be putting every man in the fight who can hold a rifle. Reckon they’re going to want you, Billy. Strong as you are, tough as we all know you to be, they’ll make you fight for one side or the other.”
Sarah took a deep breath. “It’d break Maw’s heart.”
Billy scuffed the worn wood on the stair tread. “Guess they’d have to find me first, huh? Ain’t nobody better than me when it comes to hiding in the woods.”
When he met Sarah’s eyes, he almost flinched. It hit him that he’d never seen Sarah so scared.
25
May 30, 1862
The last time that Butler had set foot in Little Rock’s imposing Anthony House Hotel it had been as a supplicant to Thomas Carmichael Hindman. Now he strode imperiously into the lobby as First Lieutenant Hancock, a member of Major General Hindman’s staff. The gold piping on his sleeves and the polished buttons added to the dashing effect.
Paw would have called him a strutting peacock—a thought that brought a heartbroken smile to Butler’s lips. Paw—along with more than six hundred others from Bragg’s Second Corps—was listed among the missing after the bloody disaster at Shiloh.
As a tonic to his constant worry, Butler imagined Paw’s amused distaste for his current sartorial affectations. Could see his father’s face screw up as the old man muttered, “You look like a damned popinjay.”
Yes, he would have loved that with all his heart. It would mean old James was still alive instead of blown to pieces or rotting in a brush thicket where he had crawled away to die.
Stop it! Don’t go there.
He already wondered if his sanity was eroding. And the thought that it might be scared him to death. God, he couldn’t get the battle out of his mind or thoughts. The others didn’t seem to share his terrors. Hindman, despite the
