The house…his description? Excitement shotthrough her. “This house you speak of. Did it sit on the corner oftwo streets? A red brick house with a mother, father, and sister?”She bounced on her toes and clasped her hands at her chest.
He nodded. “I believe so.” He stopped andseemed to consider the question. “Yes, the house was at anintersection and quite close to Cemetery Ridge where we gathered.”He raised his uninjured hand fingers outspread. “I spoke with themother.” He lowered his pinkie finger. “I saw a sister.” Down wentthe ring finger. “And a brother.” He dropped his hand to his side.“I didn’t see the father, though. Why? Do you know them?”
“That’s my family,” Relief loosened hershoulders as a grin split her face. “I’m relieved they’re well.”Without warning, the smile left her face, and her eyes widened. Shetried to ignore the lurch in her heart. “Wait! Did you say the Rebsare in control of the town and you didn’t see my father?”
“Yes, they are, but not for long. We’ll drivethem away. Your family is fine. Don’t worry. Your father may havebeen in another part of the house. I only stayed a fewminutes.”
She relaxed. “I hope so.” They stared at eachother, lost for something more to say. Tillie shifted her weight.“Well.” She gestured to his hand. “I won’t keep you. You need toget your hand taken care of. Thank you for talking to me.”
The sun lowered well behind the heights tothe west, about an hour from meeting the horizon. In the east,treetops glowed in the last of the sunlight. The sky made thesubtle shift in blue signaling imminent twilight. If the soldierspoke true, the Rebs cut her off from home. Before she entered thehouse, her eyes followed the Taneytown Road toward home, her familynow in enemy territory.
PART 2
THE BATTLE
Chapter 14
Jacob Weikert’s 240-acre farm and large stonehouse occupied the west side of Taneytown Road. Across a smallcarriage lane, his stone and wood Dutch-style barn, common to thefarmers of Pennsylvania, faced the house. West of the barn, aspringhouse provided cool, clear water. A well stood on the barn’snorth side.
Tillie entered the summer kitchen. Beckieprepared biscuits at a waist high table. Mrs. Schriver and Mrs.Weikert flew about the room preparing the evening meal. Twouniformed men stirred beef broth at the cook stove.
The women made an issue of their presence bypushing past them to reach for things they needed. They punctuatedtheir actions with heavy sighs and exaggerated excuse mes. One ofthe soldiers shot an apologetic look at the matron as he steppedaside to let her in.
At the aroma of the beef broth, Tillie’sstomach growled loud and long. She put a hand over her abdomen andturned away as heat infused her face.
One of the men laughed. “I heard that.” Hebanged his wooden spoon on the rim of the pot.
She giggled as she walked over to peer in.She inhaled. “Mmm, smells delicious.”
“It’s for the men. They’ll need some brothsoon.” His face grew serious.
Her smile vanished. “Oh.”
“Tillie, come away from there.” Mrs. Weikertwaved her toward Beckie. “They’re busy. Help with thebiscuits.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She smiled at the cook. “I’msorry I bothered you.”
He winked.
As she glanced at her hostess, a pang ofuncertainty hit her, fearful she’d done something wrong, but thewoman resumed cutting vegetables for dinner, giving her noheed.
Mrs. Weikert tied her salt and pepper hairinto a severe chignon, which pulled the skin tight around her face.She returned Tillie’s look, her stern blue eyes pinning her to thewall. When dealing with the woman, one did as told.
Tillie moved to the table where Beckie mixedbiscuits. She took over kneading the dough while Beckie slipped apan into the oven, then returned to begin a new batch.
They worked for the better part of an hourwhile Tillie’s belly growled with insistence. Everyone stared ather. Helpless, embarrassed laughter bubbled up and overflowed.
The man cooking the broth laughed with her.“Sounds like you haven’t eaten in a month.”
“I don’t understand why my stomach insists onshaming me so. I ate dinner this afternoon.”
The cook laughed again as he stirred the potwhile his companion sifted salt between his fingers. “You’ve beenoutdoors all day giving water to the men, right?”
“Yes.” Tillie kneaded the dough, gatheringand pushing.
“Well, fresh air and sunshine go a long wayto inducing an appetite. It’s good to see a girl hungry.”
Beckie sighed. “Are you almost finished withthat? I’d like to bake them sometime tonight.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Tillie formed a ball and handedthe dough to her.
Beckie slapped her rolling pin down and withquick, hard movements, rolled and cut the dough. She arranged thebiscuits on the baking pan before shoving them into the oven andslamming the door.
Tillie and the cook exchanged glances. Hegave a one-shouldered shrug and returned to his tasks. Tilliestudied Beckie’s face, curious about her attitude. As Beckieprepared another round of dough, her mouth set in a hard line, andher eyebrows gathered in a sharp knot above her nose. Tillieshrugged away her worry. No doubt, Beckie was as hungry and tiredas she. Tillie gathered more flour and began another batch.
The third pan came out of the oven, and witheffort, she restrained an urge to pop a biscuit into her mouth. Shewas grateful for the willpower when the friendly soldier came overand gathered them into a basket while his companion carried the potof broth.
After both men left the house, Mrs. Weikertlet out a loud huff. “Finally.” She put her hands on her hips andshook her head. “I didn’t think they’d ever leave.” She spun to herdaughters. “Hettie, get the food. Beckie, call your brother andfather in to eat. Quietly. Don’t announce.”
Mrs. Schriver approached a
