Beckie, her mother, and sister entered thekitchen. Mrs. Weikert gave orders to her daughters, and theyreturned to work, picking up where they left off. She thrust thequilted petticoat into Tillie’s hands. “Take this up to my room andput it away.” She didn’t say please.
Tillie did as ordered, and when she returned,the new loaf came out of the oven. The three women had the bakingwell in hand, so she sliced the bread and served. As she did so,she mopped an occasional sweaty brow or readjusted a bandage.
A group of soldiers entered carrying stacksof lumber, which they took to the back corner where Tillie hidduring the artillery barrage. Mr. Weikert and Dan joined them,nodding, receiving instructions. Mr. Weikert went to another partof the basement, retrieved a toolbox, and returned. They set towork.
“So, Jacob, what took you so long today?”
He glanced at his wife. His expressionbetrayed annoyance.
Tillie marveled Mrs. Weikert had the nerve tobring it up.
“Well,” he spoke to the wood rather than her.“After you scared the living daylights out of me, I came back toget your precious petticoat. It took me some time to find it. Istarted for the door.” He cut a length of board. The sawed piececlunked on the floor. “As I reached the front door, I heard thumpsand bangs and the strangest yelps coming from the stairway.”
Mr. Weikert chuckled. “Imagine my surprise.”He drew a lathe across the wood. The shaving curled off. “When theboy you bandaged up yesterday, Sarah, you remember the one who gotblown up when Hettie and the girls arrived?”
She nodded.
Tillie frowned. With all that happened in thelast day, she’d forgotten the poor man.
“Well…” Mr. Weikert ran his plane down thewood, curling off another shaving. He blew on the board. “He cametumbling head over heels down the stairs, frightened as ajackrabbit and blind as a bat with those bandages on his eyes,crying for mercy, certain the cannonballs would get him.” Mr.Weikert laughed. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny, but it is funny. Imean, now it’s over I find the situation humorous.” He choked backmore laughter. “A soldier and I carried him back upstairs and intobed. He told me he would stay with him, and I presume he’s stillthere. Someone should go check.” Mr. Weikert worked on the coffin.He glanced up at the ceiling as if able to see both men through thelevels of the house. He shook his head and laughed again as heworked on his rough wooden boxes. No one joined in.
Chapter 18
The afternoon wore on, and the heatintensified. Orderlies and nurses came and went through thebasement kitchen. The door remained open to allow for bettertraffic flow.
With so many people crowded into the limitedspace, the walls closed in. Tillie broke out in a sudden sweat. Sheslipped out the door and walked across the barnyard half expectinga sharpshooter’s bullet to find her.
The sun hung low behind Big Roundtop,coloring the sky a lurid orange. She stopped and listened to thecrackle of gunfire, screams, and war whoops occurring unseen on theother side of Little Roundtop. So much violence and hatred. Why wasthere so much hate in the world? Why couldn’t people learn to getalong? She gave a sad shake of her head.
Ahead of her, two doctors stood inside thedoor talking and gesturing around the yard. She headed toward themto offer help.
“The temperature reached ninety-eight degreestoday. If the fighting doesn’t kill these men, the heat will.” Thefirst doctor swung his arm out, indicating the men in the exposedbarnyard.
Hundreds lay in the dirt in the open. Notrees, no shade, except those cast by the house and barn. Allaround her, men groaned and cried out.
Tillie stood aside and waited for them tofinish their conversation.
The second doctor wiped his face with hissleeve and shrugged. “Can’t do anything about the heat.” His sadeyes took in the men as well. “It’s all we can do in here with whatwe’ve got.” Without warning, he turned on her. “Yes? What do youwant?”
“I’m sorry.” She took a step back, unpreparedfor his sudden assault. They had enough to do without her gettingin the way. She almost turned to go back to the kitchen, but theexhaustion on his face stopped her. She straightened her shoulders.“I came to ask if I might be of some help.” Her voice rose on thelast word. A hopeful question.
Both doctors stared. The first pointed ablood-caked finger at her. “Aren’t you the one who gave water tothe men yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“That would be a wonderful ministry for them.It’s hot, and these men are desperate for some kind of respite.Water would be a godsend.”
“Yes, sir.” Disappointed by his request, shenevertheless wore a bright smile and got her bucket. The cup satinside. She went to the pump and returned with water. The doctorwalked with her. Those without abdominal wounds could have all thewater they wanted. The poor unfortunate gut shot, could only havesmall drops of water on their tongue. Tillie’s heart went out tothem, but he was adamant. He left her and returned to his grislytask of amputating limbs.
****
Tillie didn’t try to speak to these men. Theywere the enemy. She served her water in absent-minded silence. TheRebels held Gettysburg. What if they did mark Father and tookadvantage of him because of Lady or the requisitions? Scenesflashed in front of her: The Rebs mistreated Mother and Maggie.Father dragged off to prison, or worse. Sam forced to join the Rebarmy. As her imagination soared to new heights, a tug at her skirtbrought her to reality.
“Miss, may I have a drink of water,please?”
“Hmm? Oh, sorry.” Tillie got down on one kneeand cradled the man’s head before bringing the cup to his lips.
He smiled his thanks. She refused to smileback. Behind her, another man asked for water. Tillie gave himsome. She glanced toward the Roundtops in front of her.
Big Roundtop, shaped like a large bread loaf,sloped down to a saddle before rising to form Little Roundtop,which rose to the north, like a smaller loaf. The rays of thelowering sun slanted between the heights, piercing the smokedrifting from the opposite side. The mountains glowed a luridorange-gray as the battle
