“That.” Father waved a finger toward thecurtain. “Along with whiskey, flour, meat, clothing, and fiftythousand dollars.” He sat on the last step, propped his elbows onhis knees, and rubbed his hands over his face before dropping theminto his lap. “Even if we possessed what he’s asking for, I don’tthink we’d provide it, though no one came up with a satisfactoryrefusal.”
“Well, I think if General Early realizes wedon’t, he will understand.” Mother offered a reassuring smile.
Father chuckled. “You think so, my dear, ifit makes you feel better, because tomorrow, David Kendlehart,Alexander Buehler, and I must go back and tell him no. Lucky forme, I’m not the Borough President. That’s Kendlehart’s job, so heneeds to find a way to say no. My job is to appear angelic.”
“No, James, not you.” Mother gave an angryjerk to the curtain, adjusting an imaginary wrinkle in the fabric.“Why? What happens if this General Early becomes angry? He mighttake you prisoner!”
“No, dear, I don’t think he will.”
Mother huffed, but she didn’t challenge himin front of the children.
“Oh, by the way.” Father jerked his thumbover his shoulder. “Alex wanted me to tell you David got away withthe postage stamps and his equipment. Fanny did a fantastic jobstalling the Rebs until he escaped out the back.”
Mother’s face softened. “I’m glad. She actedincredibly brave.”
The room fell into silent agreement.
“Father, why would they ask for whiskey?”Tillie asked.
He emitted a little cough, and then clearedhis throat. “Well, because, my dear, soldiers drink whiskey. Nevermind why.” He shook his head. “Anyway, we need to return in themorning, and either hand over our goods to General Early, or sayno.”
“Why don’t you do what they ask?” Maggiegestured to Mother. “Mother’s right. Why aggravate them? Give themwhat they ask for. Perhaps they’ll go away.”
His expression changed from grimdetermination to sad sympathy. “Appeasement never works and is notour way. Also, I learned today, three weeks ago our bankers putmost of their money on a train to Philadelphia for safekeeping.” Hetwisted his wedding ring.
“Will you be arrested if you say no?” Tilliewent to the steps and sat next to him. She took his arm in hers andleaned into him.
“It’s anybody’s guess what General Early willdo. Given the fact I went and asked for Lady back, they’re aware ofme.” He slipped an arm around her shoulders, giving her a gentlesqueeze. He gazed around at the rest of his family. “Don’t fret.We’re right and they’re wrong. I believe, if we deal honestly withthese people, the Lord will take care of us. We will trust inHim.”
Mother took a deep breath and let it out.“You’re right, James. I’ll pray General Early takes the newswell.”
“We all will,” Maggie agreed.
* * * *
Tillie slumped at the sitting room table andtried to concentrate on the Bible lessons Father set for her inresponse to yesterday’s outburst over Lady’s theft. She didn’t mindpassing Sunday afternoons in the text of the sermon, but howunfair. She plodded through Psalm 4, and Matthew chapter five,verses twenty-one and twenty-two. Now she worked on Ephesians,chapter four, with special attention on verses twenty-five throughchapter five, verse two. Father promised to review it with her whenhe returned home. Leafing through the passages, she sighed as sheturned to chapter eighteen. She flipped her pencil between herfingers and beat a rapid tattoo on the pages.
“What’s the matter, my dear?” Mother sat inher rocking chair, knitting.
“It’s not fair I have to study the Bible. Isaid I’m sorry for getting angry.”
“You don’t sound terribly repentant in yourapology, nor did you last night. I think studying these passageswill be of benefit to you. I confess we’ve been lax with you.That’s what comes of being the youngest child, I suppose. Well,we’re correcting the problem now.” Mother lowered her knitting andstudied Tillie, who stared at the table. “Father will be unhappywith you if you don’t study your lesson.” With a deft movement,Mother wound the yarn around her left finger as she inserted theneedle into her stitch.
“Well, I’m sick of hearing how I’m going tohell for a little outburst when the entire country is drowning inhate. Why can’t I be angry because someone stole something from me,yet fellow countrymen can shoot and kill each other and no one doesanything about that?” She bit her tongue, regretting the words. Sherefused to lift her face, but peered at Mother through loweredlashes.
Mother’s chair and knitting needles froze.She dropped her project to her lap.
Tillie closed her eyes and groaned.
“God will hold us all accountable for oursin.” Mother’s voice sounded soft and gentle, but also hard assteel. “Don’t think nothing is being done about the war. It isGod’s punishment for the unrepentant sin of slavery.” Motherresumed her knitting and rocking. “As for your father and I, wehold you to a high standard of behavior because one day you will berequired to account for your sin to God.”
Tillie’s eyes swept the table. Her indexfinger flipped the corner of the book, the pages riffled as shewaited, heart pounding, for Mother to punish her impudence. Again,she peeked at Mother through her lashes.
Mother took a stitch. “Do your study, andwhile you do, I’ll be praying for you. Rest assured, your fatherwill hear about this.”
Tillie closed her eyes, dismayed, andreopened the Bible.
Her pencil scratched across her paper. Thepages rustled as she turned them.
Mother’s rocker squeaked on every backmotion. Her foot tapped against the floorboards, and her needlesclicked through her project.
Tillie began to think she’d been studying thepassages for a lifetime when the front door opened.
“Margaret, I’m home.” Father called from theentrance.
“Finished so soon?” Mother rose and put herknitting down.
“No. There’s another session this afternoon.I just need something quick to eat.”
“Oh, dear.” She rushed into the kitchen. “Ididn’t expect you home for lunch.”
“Make me a sandwich, if you don’t mind.” Hefollowed her.
With her parents distracted, Tillie gatheredher things and slipped upstairs. She sat at her desk, penscratching across paper. Her hand froze as footsteps halted outsideher bedroom door. Father entered. She refused to look at him.
“Matilda, I’m returning to the BoroughCouncil now, but I want a word with you the minute I get back.”
“Yes, Father.” She couldn’t remember the lasttime he called her
