Silence greeted his announcement. After hedisappeared, the general buzz of conversation picked up again. Oneweek from tomorrow. Today would be her last day. She saw no pointin coming back. These boys didn’t need her. She returned to hermeal. One good thing about people refusing to speak to her: it lefther with plenty of time for prayer and meditation.
“Miss Tillie, may I join you?” The chaplainsmiled down at her. He held his hands behind his back.
“Chaplain Combs. Your company is mostwelcome.”
Reverend Combs sat across from her and setdown a wooden horse, carved in the act of running, tail and manecaught by the wind and flowing behind the animal. She bore stronglegs with muscle definition carved into the thighs, the hooveschiseled to precision. The horse’s arched neck displayed fiercepride, yet the eyes showed a calm, gentle demeanor.
For the first time in months, Tillie thoughtof Lady, and her heart lurched. Her hand shook as she picked up thecarving. “Where did you get this? It’s lovely.” She ran her fingerdown the length of the horse’s side. She could almost feel themuscles flex with movement. She touched the muzzle and imagined thesoft snout. Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, she’s so beautiful.”
“The boy, Tommy, asked me to give this toyou. No explanation, just ‘See Miss Tillie gets this and tell herI’m sorry.’”
Tillie clutched the carving to her breast,tears spilling down her cheeks.
“I take it you found a brother or two in thattent.”
“It seems I did.”
Chapter 30
Whoever said nothing ever happened inGettysburg? Tillie waited on the front step for the rest of thefamily. They were going to the dedication ceremony, but so far,everyone else seemed to take their time coming out. She didn’t wantto miss a thing.
She glanced at the door, braced her hands onthe railing, and hoisted herself up. She peered toward theDiamond.
A crowd milled about, and the buzz ofhundreds of voices carried to her ears. She couldn’t see thetelltale sign of Mr. Lincoln’s tall hat. Dropping back to her feet,she pushed open the door. Where did everyone go? “Hurry! They’recoming. You’ll miss it.” She slammed the door.
Leaning out over the railing again, sheglimpsed people, but no sign they were starting toward thecemetery. Tillie skipped down the steps and out to the curb,stopping in the center of the empty street, and waited. She lookedat the closed door, drew in a deep breath, and went back to thefront step.
President Lincoln’s arrival at the trainstation yesterday touched off an impromptu celebration lasting lateinto the night as townspeople wandered the streets serenading theExecutive, Mr. Seward, and even Mr. Everett, the main speaker. Now,the party continued as they made their way down BaltimoreStreet.
A tall man, wearing a high, black stovepipehat, a black coat and pants rode a calm and gentle brown horse. Twomen flanked him. Mr. Seward on the President’s left and Mr. Willson his right, but Tillie only had eyes for Mr. Lincoln.
She clutched her hands to her breast andbounced on the balls of her feet. They approached Middle Street. Ifthe rest of her family didn’t come soon, they’d miss out! ThePresident of the United States riding a horse down her street. Shepushed the door open again. “The President’s coming. Hurry!” Sheslammed the door a second time and spun around.
Music drifted to her ears. Somewhere near theback of the line, a flute tootled out the tune “The Flag OfColumbia.” The three men at the head of the column approached WestHigh Street. Almost oblivious to the massive crowd gathered aboutthem, the riders came abreast of her.
Tillie straightened her shoulders and put onher most solemn face. She mustn’t smile at the President. Whatwould he think of her?
Lincoln and his companions passed, deep inconversation. The President turned to speak to Mr. Wills, his gazestraying past the lawyer’s shoulder, resting on her.
Not knowing the proper protocol, Tilliewanted to be dignified. A grin split her face, and she sank into aclumsy half curtsey. Rubbery knees failed to support her, and shelost her balance. Her hand whipped out and caught the railing intime to prevent an undignified spill on the front stoop. Shestraightened.
President Lincoln didn’t smile, but hisexpression softened and the corners of his mouth lifted a little.He raised his fingers to his hat brim and nodded at her, as thoughthey shared a private joke.
Mr. Wills turned to find out who caught hisguest’s attention, and he too, bowed his head and touched his hatto Tillie.
A military entourage clattered along behindthe President.
The front door opened, and the rest of herfamily joined her on the step.
“You missed it! The President just rode by,and you missed it!”
“Well, we got out here as fast as possiblebefore you pulled the door off its hinges.” Mother adjusted herbonnet.
An open carriage drove by with Mr. Everett,the key speaker, inside. A young woman sat next to him, fussingover the old man. Though a mild day for mid-November, he wore aheavy blanket like a shawl around his shoulders. The woman tuckedanother warm covering about his hips, using her body to shield himfrom the wind.
“Is he Mr. Everett?” Sam’s voice held a mixof awe and disappointment. In honor of the orator’s visit, Mothermade him read a series of Mr. Everett’s old speeches and lectures.“He’s so old.”
“He’s eight-six.” Father put his hat on hishead. “He has a right to look old. He’s an extremely sick man. Heshouldn’t be out here.”
Mother and Maggie murmured sounds of pity forMr. Everett.
Tillie studied his appearance. The old mandid appear uncomfortable in his greatcoat and blanket over hisshoulders and one about his legs. The woman did her best to tuckblankets around him and use her body to shield him from thewind.
“She must be his daughter.” Mother’s eyesrested on her. “I understand he travels nowhere without her.”
“Why didn’t they provide a closed carriagefor him?” Maggie gazed
