No Safe Haven
Angela Moody
Copyright © 2016 AngelaMoody
All rightsreserved.
ISBN: 1514643677
ISBN-13:9780463981856
DEDICATION
I dedicate this book to my mother and father. Thankyou for always believing in me. I love you.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I couldn’t have written this book without the helpof too many people to name here. I do want to thank my wonderfulfamily for putting up with me while I undertook this journey. Yourlove and support mean everything to me. The same goes for myfantastic critique partners. You ladies pulled things out of me Ididn’t know existed and you did it with love and good humor. Thankyou so much, Audrey, Deb, Julie F, Julie K, and most of all, thankyou Monica. To Dierdre Lockhart of Brilliant Cut Editing, the mostwonderful and gifted editor anyone could ask for. You took adiamond in the rough and made it sparkle.
Prologue
July 4, 1893
Selinsgrove, PA
Tillie Alleman sat back in her new Adirondackchair, chewing the last of her watermelon slice and watching herfamily enjoy their picnic.
Her husband, Horace, strolled through thegarden, talking with their son, Harry, a serious nineteen-year-old,starting his second year of college in September. Harry’s interestin law pleased his father. From the tilt of their heads and lowmurmur of their voices, surely, they discussed appropriate collegeclasses, law schools, and which type of law to pursue as theyambled through the gardens.
Seventeen-year-old Mary and thirteen-year-oldAnna sat on the picnic blanket nearby, a Godey’s Ladies Bookbetween them.
“I can’t wait until I can wear long skirts.”Annie fingered her sister’s flowered lawn dress. “Ma says when Iturn fifteen I may.”
Mary leaned in close. “She made me wait untilfifteen as well.” She glanced back at their mother. “How old wereyou, Ma, when you started wearing long skirts?”
Tillie rose and joined them on the picnicblanket. “I was fifteen as well.”
Annie’s face fell.
Tillie placed a gentle hand on Annie’s knee.“It’s an appropriate age for girls to start with long skirts.”
Mary leaned into Annie and wrapped her armaround her sister’s shoulder. “Don’t be in too much of a hurry tobe a lady, Annie. Then it becomes inappropriate to run, skip, orjump.”
Tillie arched a brow. “Mary.” She leanedforward. “I do hope you behave like a proper young lady at theacademy.”
“Of course, Mother.” Mary sang. She sat backand lowered her eyes to the blanket for a moment. She looked atTillie. “I have excellent grades and no demerits for improper dressor deportment. But, sometimes, I would love to jump into a mudpuddle or run down the street, just because it feels good to doso.”
Tillie opened her mouth to berate Mary forsuch an admission, but Horace and Harry joined them.
Harry dropped his lanky frame down acrossfrom Annie, causing the Godey’s Ladies Book to slip off herlap.
“Harry!” Annie grabbed at it.
“What are you looking at, Mouse?” He tried tograb the magazine, but Mary and Tillie reached in to stop him.
“Harry, leave her be.” Tillie swatted hisarm. “And don’t call her mouse.”
“She is a mouse.” He shrugged, ignoring heradmonition, and then dropped onto his back and looked up at the skybeginning to change to early evening light. “So what did you all dofor fun on the Fourth of July, when you were young?” He glanced athis parents, and then resumed staring at the sky.
“Who said we had fun on the Fourth of July?”Tillie teased.
Horace chuckled and Mary laughed. Harrygrunted.
“Ma, would you tell us the story?” Annieclosed the magazine and laid it on the blanket between her andMary. “I just love hearing the story. Would you tell it,please?”
“Oh.” Tillie wrapped her arm around Annie’sshoulder. She pressed her cheek to the top of her daughter’s head.“You’ve heard that story a thousand times.”
Harry shifted and leaned on an elbow. “Wedon’t care. We love the story. Please tell it.”
“Yes, Ma, please,” Mary joined in. Shereadjusted her skirts and pulled her knees up, making herself morecomfortable.
Horace chuckled, pulled his pipe out of hisshirt pocket, and clenched it between his teeth. He reached intohis trouser pocket and removed a pouch of tobacco. “I don’t believeyou have much choice, my dear.” He tamped tobacco into the bowl andlit it with great big puffs.
The scent of applewood pipe smoke curledaround them and wafted away on the evening breeze. The smell of herfamily. Just as the metallic scent of animal blood and lemonverbena were the smells of her childhood.
“Oh, dear.” An amused grin tugged at herlips. “How can I refuse these faces?” She glanced at the remains oftheir picnic feast. “We should clean up first, and then,” shelooked at Annie, “I suppose I can tell the story.”
Horace blew pipe smoke into the air. “We canclean up after.” He grinned and bit into his pipe stem.
Tillie shot hima look of love and amusement. He loved the story as much as theirchildren did. “Very well.” She pushed off with one arm and raisedher hip off the ground. With her free hand, she pulled her skirtsout in front of her, so they wouldn’t bunch and tighten about herlegs. Then, when she was comfortable, she peered off to the west.The sun was gone now, but the heat lingered, and in the half-lightof the remaining day, she gathered her thoughts. “I can’t believethirty years have come and gone since,” she began. “I was just agirl when the Confederate soldiers marched into Gettysburg andchanged my life forever.”
“The hand of our God was upon us, and Hedelivered us from the hand of the enemy.” - Ezra 8:22
PART ONE
GETTYSBURG
Chapter 1
Monday, June 22, 1863
Nothing ever happened in Gettysburg.Fifteen-year-old Tillie Pierce gripped the front step railing andhoisted herself up. She braced her hips against the wood and leanedas far over as she dared without falling. She didn’t want to missthe goings-on at the Diamond, the town square.
Traffic increased along the cobbled stones ofBaltimore Street. Farmers with empty wagons bumped along,negotiating the narrow roadway
