Tillie’s eyes widened. She started to askwhat he meant to do with a gun that didn’t work, but he put afinger to his lips and gave her a stern, be-quiet glare.
“Now, ma’am…” The leader changed his tone.Menace now laced his words. “We can ask for food, or we can forceour way in and help ourselves. Which would you prefer?”
Mother sighed, and her shoulders slumped. Shepulled the door wide, gesturing to the table. “You may sitdown.”
Tillie put the dishes down and waved atFather to hide the gun. He stepped into the sitting room andpropped the musket against the wall, out of sight, but within easyreach. The rest of the family backed away as, like a pack ofravenous dogs, the hungry soldiers attacked the food.
Tillie went to Father and clasped hisarm.
The men grabbed everything they could. Theyspilled the apple butter as they spread it on their bread. Picklejuice puddled on the tablecloth as they stuck dirty fingers intothe crock, scooping the pickles onto their plates. They passedcrocks back and forth, knocking them over. The contents dirtied thetable and the floor as the fiends shoved food into their mouths inhuge quantities, joking while they ate.
Dirty Beard licked his finger and used it topick up crumbs, which he put in his mouth.
Tillie couldn’t stand it any longer. Sheturned her back as the vulgar men gobbled their meal, spittinghalf-chewed bits while they talked and ate.
A glance passed between Mother and Fatheracross the room, a silent communication.
Father took a seat. “Tell me.” He directedhis question to the one who asked to come in. “To whom would Ispeak regarding the return of our horse?”
“Well, sir.” The soldier sat back in hischair, clasped his hands behind his head, and said in his peculiardrawl. “You ain’t gonna get your horse back.”
Their malicious laughter made Tillie’s skincrawl, and a prick of fear stabbed her heart.
He raised his voice above the din.“However.”
His men fell silent.
“However, if you must plead your case, Isuggest you come with us and speak to Colonel White.”
Father and Mother exchanged wary glances.Mother shook her head. He nodded and waited for the men to finishtheir meal. The soldiers, in no particular hurry to leave, loungedat the table and enjoyed several cups of “real coffee”. Theydemanded Mother make more when the pot ran dry. She complied.
When they rose, Father went with them.
* * * *
Tillie wriggled in her seat, tucking herbooted feet beneath her. She held Mr. Emerson’s book of essays openin her lap, but she barely glanced at the pages. In the gray lightof twilight, Sam sat on the front stoop whittling. From her vantagepoint on the sitting room sofa, she pretended to read, but she kepther eye on him. Every so often, he raised his head and lookedtoward the Diamond. She sat up straight, but when he returned towhittling, she relaxed again. Daylight almost completely left thesky when Sam entered the house and stopped inside the sitting roomdoor. “Mr. Pierce is coming.”
Mother put down her knitting. “Thank you,Sam.” Turning to the girls, she gestured toward the kitchen.“Father will be hungry. I’ll fix him some dinner.”
“Sam.” Tillie gave him a hopeful glance andclosed her book. “Is Lady with him?”
“No, he’s alone.”
Father entered and paused in the doorway asthough gathering his thoughts. He stepped inside the sitting room.The muscle in his jaw twitched, and his brows knotted at the centerof his forehead. He laid a shaking hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Sam, bea good boy, please, and close up the shop for me. Hide anything ofvalue, all the tools, everything sharp. I’ll be out to helpyou.”
He studied Father’s face, nodded, and clompedout the back door.
Father stared after the boy, a strangemixture of love and bewilderment in his expression.
“Where’s your mother?” He didn’t take hiseyes off the path Sam took.
“She’s in the kitchen getting you somethingto eat.” Maggie set aside her mending. “Is something wrong,Father?”
“Girls, come into the kitchen. I must tellyou something.” He trudged forward as if he were going to hishanging.
The girls seated themselves as Mother placeda plate and a cup of coffee in front of him. She too sat down, herjaw tense and chin jutted forward.
He stared at his food for a long time, andthen pushed the dish away. He looked at each woman. When his eyefell on Tillie, he sighed. “I’m sorry, my dear. We won’t get Ladyback. It would seem the Confederate Army is so desperate forhorses, that even an old, lame mare will fill the bill.”
Tillie nodded. She squeezed her eyes tight tostop tears from escaping.
“I sent Sam outside so I could talk free. Itwould break my heart to speak in front of him.” Father pulled hiscoffee cup close and wrapped his hands around the mug. “When we gotto the Confederate camp, the soldiers took me to see Colonel White.He allowed me to present my entire case, so I told him about thehorse. I said she’s old and lame. She won’t be any use to them.When I finished, he said he understood me to be a blackabolitionist; so black, in fact, I turned black in front of him.I’ll admit he scared me.…” His eyes glazed as he stared past hisfamily. “He said he’d been informed my two sons serve in the UnionArmy, and they probably stole more from the South than he took fromme.”
Mother straightened in her seat. She foldedher hands together. An expression of determination and defiancecrossed her face. “Who would say such a thing?” Her voice squeakedout, a frightened whisper.
Father took a sip of his coffee. “I asked himwhere he got his information. He said a young woman arrived earlierwith a woeful tale of how we almost allowed her brother to bekidnaped by their troops, and only by her threats did we finallyintervene for the boy.”
“How dare she?” Tillie slammed her hand down.“Always the Southern sympathizer. No doubt, she did it to impressWesley Culp. He’s a Reb. He might appreciate a traitorous act fromher. Everyone knows she wanted to marry him, but the Culps wouldn’tallow it!”
“Tillie, control yourself.” Mother grippedTillie’s arm.
“Enough!” Father’s fist crashed down rattlingthe dishes. “You’re angry
