“There’s no need for that,” Mr. Weikert spokeup. “I’m sure Beckie didn’t mean what she said.”
Beckie’s face colored a dull red. Her mouthworked, but nothing came out. She rubbed her arms. Then sheshrugged. “You don’t need to replace it. You’re right. It’s not mybest. I’m sorry, Doctor Billings, for having snapped at you. Howshameful of me.”
“No harm done, Miss Weikert.” He soundedcalm, but he concentrated on his patient and refused to meet hereye.
Mrs. Weikert put slices of bread and apitcher of water on the table. “Come, everyone.” She waved a handat the table. “Let’s eat. I’m sure we’ll all feel better after ameal.”
****
They ate in silence, apparently embarrassedby the scene between the girls. Tillie took small bites and chewedwith slow, deliberate motions. She swallowed and sipped water.
Someone knocked on the kitchen door. Dan roseand opened it. “Yes.” Impatience laced the word. Another man in aYankee uniform needing care?
The soldier removed his cap. “Have I changedso much, you don’t recognize me, Dan Weikert?”
Beckie shrieked and ran to him. She threw herarms around his neck and knocked the young man back a couple ofpaces. His breath left him in a soft “oof”. He laughed and, puttinghis hands on her waist, set her to her feet.
Mr. Weikert’s face darkened at his daughter’sbehavior, but when she pulled away, he recognized her beau, GeorgeKitzmiller. The family rushed to him with loud shouts ofgreeting.
Beckie and Mrs. Schriver took his hands andled him to the table. Mrs. Weikert placed some bread and a glass ofwater in front of him. He sat down, laughing.
They bombarded him with questions, and Georgeturned this way and that trying to respond to them all. “Hold it.Hold it. One at a time. I can’t answer you all at the sametime.”
“Was James involved in the battle?” Tillieleaned forward in her seat. “When the Reserves came through I triedto find him, but couldn’t.”
“I’m the one who turned when you called out.I’m only telling you because I got the impression you didn’tknow.”
She wriggled in her seat. “I saw you turn,but I didn’t recognize you. Oh, George, I’m so glad it was you, butwhere was James?”
“So am I.” George smiled, but it wasperfunctory. He grew serious. “I am sorry to tell you, Miss Tillie,but James got sick in the Peninsular Campaign.”
She jumped from her chair. “What? Oh no!”
“Not to worry.” He rushed to reassure her andhelped her to sit back down. “He had a serious case of pneumoniaand was hospitalized in Washington.”
“Oh my.” Tillie put her hands over her mouth.She studied George’s face seeing the truth in his eyes. She droppedher hands. “I’m sorry he was taken ill. I’m glad to know he’salive. At least now I can tell Mother why he hasn’t written for solong.”
“I’m sure it will put her mind at ease.” Hepatted her hand. “You can also tell her, the last I heard, he wasmending well.”
“Thank you, George.” She squeezed his hand.Their eyes locked in a moment of sympathetic communication untilBeckie slipped her arm through his and leaned against him. Sheglared at Tillie. That broke their eye contact. Tillie took a sipof water.
George turned in his chair and addressedBeckie’s father. “Mr. Weikert, may I take these two ladies on atour of the battlefield?”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Mr. Weikertfrowned. “I’m concerned about what the girls might see. I’m notsure a tour is a good idea.”
“It’s perfectly safe, sir,” George assuredhim. “Most of the Rebs left yesterday, and our men are working hardcleaning up the battlefield. We’ve been in something of a raceagainst the hogs and the carrion birds.”
Mrs. Schriver and Mrs. Weikert made sounds ofdisgust. Tillie shuddered.
“We’ll be all right, Papa,” Beckie tookGeorge’s arm in both of hers and squeezed tight. “George will bewith us, and I’m sure he will steer us away from the more gruesomesights and places.”
“You can be sure of that, sir.” George raisedhis eyebrows in a hopeful glance.
Mr. Weikert studied George’s face thenglanced at his daughter. He addressed his wife. “What do you think,Sarah?”
She shrugged. “Well, if you say no harm willcome.”
Tillie raised her eyebrows at Doctor Billingsin question. He smiled and nodded.
* * * *
Stepping outside, Tillie lifted her face tothe sun, the first rush of warmth a soothing comfort.
“Well, where do you want to go first?” Georgetook a position between her and Beckie and offered an arm to eachof them.
“Wherever you would like to take us, George,”Beckie cooed. She slipped her arm into his and pressed it againsther bosom. She gazed with loving eyes into his face. A besottedGeorge smiled down at her.
Tillie rolled her eyes and looked away. Hergaze fell on Little Roundtop.
“Might we go up there?” She indicated thearea of destruction of a few days past.
“I thought you’d never ask!” George said.“That’s where we fought, and I did so want to show you where yourstruly comported himself so bravely.”
Laughing, the three young people set off inthe direction of Little Roundtop. George Kitzmiller, acting as tourguide, explained the actions of the afternoon of July the second.Beckie and George clung to each other, and Tillie, feeling like anunwanted third wheel, lagged behind and wandered off some paces togive them some privacy.
“After we raced across the farm, we wereplaced in reserve up here.” George slid his eyes to Tillie as hetalked, doing his best to include her in the outing. They reachedthe top, coming out on the other side to a rocky, boulder-strewnhillside, long known as The Devil’s Den. In the past week, thelocation earned its nickname, for the scene below them seemedculled out of hell.
“Those rocks down there,” George nodded tosome glacial boulder formations ten to twelve feet high and forminga series of boxlike enclosures, “the men call, The Slaughter Pen.”His arm swept off to his right, indicating the grassy slope beyond.“That’s now The Valley of Death.” They stood on the crest of LittleRoundtop and stared into the once beautiful Plum Run Valley.
Tillie gazed at the destruction, thinking thename appropriate. Valley of Death. Everywhere one turned, deadbodies—men and horses—bloated in the heat. Shattered caissons
