She made her way down the hallway, arrivingin time to see Father disappear up to the attic. Curious, shefollowed him. He stood at the south window, staring out towardCemetery Hill. He turned at her approach and held out an arm.
She crossed to him and laid her head on hischest. He held her close, kissing the top of her head.
“What are you doing up here, Father?”
“Oh, just looking. During the battle I cameup here to watch what went on.” He took her elbow, moving her infront of him.
“You put yourself in danger.” She peeked athim over her shoulder.
“Look.” He pointed toward Mrs. Schriver’shouse.
Tillie sighted down the length of his arm asif down the barrel of a gun. She peered into her garret. Someonepunched several holes through the wall on either side of thewindow. On the floor, under the window, was a large, dried pool ofblood. Tillie frowned. “I’m looking, but I’m not sure what you’reshowing me.”
“Do you see those holes in the wall?”
She nodded.
“The first night I came up here. In the smallhours of the night the sound of our boys, chopping, shoveling,pickaxing—preparing their breastworks for the next day’sfight—carried in the cool air. Afterward I came up here during thelulls. Sometimes the wounded boys joined me.” He draped his armover Tillie’s shoulder. “Confederate soldiers took up a position inMrs. Schriver’s garret. They’re the ones who made the holes in thewall, like portholes. They used her garret as a sharpshooters’nest. Many of our boys wished they were still armed so they couldtake care of them.” He shrugged at her horrified expression. “Oncethe boys on Cemetery Hill figured out where the firing came from,they let loose a volley this way. I still marvel that the Yanksdidn’t send a shell or two toward us. One of the sharpshootersthrew his arms up and fell backward. A mad scramble ensued, andthey dragged the man off to the side. After dark they carried hisbody out the back door and into her garden.”
Tillie turned around and hugged him. Fatherresponded with a gentle squeeze across her shoulders.
“At the Weikerts’.” Her voice sounded muffledagainst his shirt. “On the second day, some soldiers came to thehouse and asked to go up on the roof. Mrs. Weikert told me to showthem the way, so I did. They allowed me to join them. One of themeven gave me his field glasses!” She grinned, recalling herfascination with the glasses. “At the time, I didn’t understandwhat they showed me, but General Sickles had moved his men into Mr.Sherfy’s orchard. Way out ahead of the rest of the Union line.” Sherefrained from bragging and sharing how she had discovered, andasked, what he was doing, bringing it to their attention.
“A terrible fight,” he agreed. “The man inyour brother’s bed led the charge to drive the rebels from there.”He shook his head. “One of his nurses told us of the two hundredsixty-two men Colonel Colvill led into the Peach Orchard, onlyforty-six came out alive, including him—barely.”
“Poor man.” Tillie frowned. “I hope he getsbetter.”
“As do we all.” Father resumed his story. “Atnight they would leave the garret and come over here. They enteredthe cellar, took our food, and went out to the curb on Breckenridgeto eat. Now, there’s nothing left stored for winter. It will be ahungry time for many in town, including us. So, I come up here,look over at where our boys fought with such valor, and wonderwhat’s to become of us.”
Tillie studied her father. He never sharedhis doubts with her. Now uncertainty quavered in his voice, andfear reflected in the crease of his brow and set of his jaw.
“We’ll be all right, Father. You always tellus to wait on the Lord and he will provide. Do you still believethat?”
“Yes, I do. Perhaps, with everything that’shappened these past days, I forgot. Thank you for the reminder.” Hesmiled down at her and hugged her close.
Tillie leaned against him, savoring hisembrace. She inhaled, and this time, the metallic scent of animalblood no longer made her want to gag. It was part of Father, likehis warm brown eyes and graying temples. A pang of regret hit herfor all the times she hurt him by avoiding his embrace. “Come.” Shetugged his arm. “Let’s go downstairs and see what Mother made forbreakfast. She always puts something on the table for us.”
When she smiled up at her father in completeconfidence, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. Arm in arm,they left the garret and went down to breakfast.
As Tillie cleaned up from their meagerbreakfast, her gaze fell on a round hole in the wall, behind thecook stove. Curious, she bent for a closer look.
“That happened during the third day.” Maggieentered the house from the kitchen door, clean sheets draped overher arm. “Some Rebs—deserters we think—came and told Mother to goupstairs and cook them some food. I don’t know how she managed tobe so brave, but she told them no. She wouldn’t cook for her ownfamily just then, and she surely wouldn’t cook for them. A shorttime later, a volley of fire came this way, and after the fightingceased, we came up here and found that hole. Sam found the bulleton the floor by the sitting room door.” Maggie gestured toward thedoorway. “If Mother complied, she would have been killed.”
“So you were in danger.” Tillie pushed down awave of emotion.
Maggie shrugged. “No worse than you, oranyone else around here, and besides, we all survived.”
****
While Mother and Maggie continued to care forthe colonel, who mended slowly, Tillie spent her time downstairscleaning and restoring the house to its former condition. Oneafternoon, she headed to the basement to find something for dinner.Stopping in front of the shelf Sam and Father made, she stared atthe empty space.
“How gullible to think a simple curtain wouldprotect our food.” Pursing her lips, she twisted her apron in herhands. Sighing, she turned from the bare
