Tillie drew in a sharp breath. “But you—” Shestopped at Mr. Weikert’s angry face and glanced at the lieutenant.When he stared at her, Tillie bowed her head and clamped her lipsclosed.
“Sir,” Graham spoke in an exaggerated,reasonable tone. “Please state your name?” He slipped a smallnotebook out of his breast pocket and flipped the pages with hisleft thumb before poising a pencil over the open page.
Mr. Weikert glared at him. He crossed hisarms again. “Weikert. W-E-I-K-E-R-T.”
Lieutenant Graham wrote the name in the bookand snapped it closed. He kept his eyes on Mr. Weikert as he slidthe notebook back into his breast pocket. “Well, Mr. Weikert, Iknow for a fact you are aware of the pump handle. Several men toldme they saw you remove it. Now, I suggest you retrieve it and putit back on the well. They’ll die of thirst if they don’t getwater.”
“What do I care?” Mr. Weikert’s face turneddull red, and the vein in his forehead throbbed. His hands curledinto fists at his sides. “Those men are the enemy, and I won’t havemy well pumped dry by Rebels who would only waste the wateranyway.”
“Sir.” Lieutenant Graham’s voice and eyeshardened. “I order you to replace the well crank now.”
“No.” Mr. Weikert moved to stand behind hiswife.
Mrs. Weikert and Mrs. Schriver shifted sotheir bodies blocked Mr. Weikert from Lieutenant Graham.
Some soldiers snickered while others scowled.Lieutenant Graham’s lip curled, and his eyes grew cold andcontemptuous.
At this moment, Tillie disliked all theWeikerts.
An artillery shell whistled through the airand hit the chimney. The house shook and dishes rattled on theshelves. Something shattered upstairs.
Mr. Weikert blanched at the sound of brickscrashing to the ground and men screaming.
Only Lieutenant Graham acted unconcerned. Hepulled his pistol out of its holster. “Sir, I order you to give upthe well crank—now!” The lieutenant drew back the hammer and aimedthe pistol between the women’s shoulders, right at Mr. Weikert’sforehead. “Don’t make me shoot you in front of your womenfolk,sir.”
Tillie’s eyes widened. She exhaled in a slow,measured breath. Give him the crank. What did he gain from beingobstinate? Rebel or Yank, they needed water.
The standoff lasted only a second or two. Mr.Weikert made an ugly sound, stomped to the stairs, and retrievedthe well crank, which he thrust out to Lieutenant Graham with suchforce Tillie flinched, expecting Mr. Weikert to hit the man.
The lieutenant took the handle with solemnthanks. He nodded to each member of the family and left thehouse.
She ran to the cellar door.
Lieutenant Graham attached the pump handle,drew water, and gave it to the thirsty men. Before taking hisleave, he posted two of the least wounded men, one with a bandagearound his forehead and another with an arm in a sling, to guardthe well.
She looked up at the blistering sun, thenaround the farmyard, heartsick. The yard, devoid of trees or shadeof any kind, offered no respite. The men might as well lay in adesert, for all the comfort they received. They endured the fliesand merciless, building heat while awaiting help from four surgeonswho made their own men their first priority.
Tillie cocked her head trying to rememberwhat today was. She began to count on her fingers. The soldierscame to town on Tuesday, the thirtieth. The first day of battlehappened on Wednesday, the first, the same day she arrived at theWeikerts’. Yesterday, Thursday, the second, the army chased themaway. She smiled a tired smile. So today was Friday, July third.Tomorrow was the Fourth of July. Lord God, if you exist, don’t letthem fight tomorrow. Please let the fighting be over now, so we canenjoy our picnics and parades—and peace.
A movement caught the corner of her eye. Shestepped outside for a better look. Across the small lane, Unionsoldiers moved about, placing cannons about three hundred yards orso from the barn. Behind the cannon, infantrymen lined up as ifthey expected another fight, this time right at their doorstep.
“They’re setting up cannons on the other sideof the dooryard.” Tillie’s heart lurched, and dread made hernauseous. She looked at Mr. Weikert through the open doorway.
Mr. Weikert swore. He joined her and lookedwhere she pointed. Mr. Weikert’s shoulders dropped, and his handsclenched and unclenched in spasms of unvented fury. The colordrained from his face.
A sudden flash of insight struck Tillie sohard she gasped. In the last three days, this man lost everythinghe held dear, helpless before the onslaught. She tried to forgivehim for the water.
“Tillie, go back inside and stay there.” Hespoke over his shoulder. “Don’t come out for anything.”
“Yes, sir.” She headed inside as Mr. Weikertwalked over to the men placing the cannon.
Mrs. Schriver joined Tillie at the door whileher father and the soldier talked. When Tillie and Mrs. Schriverglanced at each other, Mrs. Schriver shrugged as if to say it wasout of their hands. “Well, we have work to do.” She returned to herchores.
Tillie walked among the wounded in thecellar, inquiring if she could do or get anything for anyone. A manlay on the floor near where General Weed had lain. Bandages coveredhis eyes. He gripped an envelope. Tillie knelt and placed her handon his.
“Who’s there?”
“My name is Tillie.” She touched theenvelope. “Would you like me to read your letter?”
“My friend brought it last night. It’s frommy wife.”
Tillie slid the envelope from his grasp andunfolded the letter. A picture of two small children, a boy notmuch more than three and his older sister, perhaps five, fell onthe man’s chest. She put it into his hand. He lifted the picture tohis lips and kissed it.
Her voice choked as she read. When shefinished, she folded the letter and put it back into the envelope.She slid the envelope into his hand again. He squeezed ittight.
“Thank you,” he choked out.
She patted his hand. “Can I get you water ora slice of bread?”
Someone tapped her shoulder. “Miss, there arecarriages waiting by the barn. Your father decided to find a placeof safety. You’re to come with me if you please.”
Tillie scanned the kitchen. While she read tothis man, the Weikerts disappeared, leaving her alone. “Issomething going to happen?” She rose, unable to hide the furyroiling within her. She gave
