Gallant Boys of Gettysburg (12 page)

Sarah started with surprise, then opened the door quickly. “Jeff!” she said. “What in the world—”

“Sarah, it’s good to see you,” Jeff said. “I’ve got to talk to you.”

“Come on in, Jeff.”

“No, I don’t want anybody to see me.” Then he blurted out, “It’s Tom!”

Cold fear gripped Sarah. She caught her breath, and an awful thought came to her. “Is he—dead, Jeff?”

“No, but he’s wounded. He got hit with cannon fire on the last day of the battle. They had to—they had to take his leg off, Sarah.”

“Poor Tom!” She asked quickly, “Where is he? Is he all right?”

“He couldn’t make the trip with the wounded back to Virginia, so I stayed with him. There’s a family named Poteet near Gettysburg. They’re Quaker folks, and they’re taking care of him.”

“I’ve got to go see him!”

Jeff smiled. “I knew you’d say that. He’s awful low. He thinks he’s no good at all since he lost his foot.”

“That’s foolish,” Sarah said. “He’s the same as he always was.”

“He doesn’t think so. He’s kinda given up hope. I thought maybe—” Jeff stopped “—I thought maybe you could make him feel better.”

Sarah stared at the outline of the boy’s face highlighted by the candle. “Tell me where he is. You know I wouldn’t tell anyone about you two.”

Eagerly Jeff gave directions to the Poteet farm. “You’ll come as quick as you can, won’t you, Sarah?”

“Yes, Jeff, as quick as I can.”

Jeff sighed with relief. “I’m mighty glad,” he said. “I don’t know what to do. We’ve got to get out of here, but the Federal soldiers are everywhere. I can’t stand the thought of Tom going to a prison camp.”

“No, we mustn’t let that happen,” Sarah said. She thought for a while, and her face was serious and intense. “You go on back. You tell Tom I’ll be there just as soon as I can.”

“All right, Sarah. I’m sure glad you’re coming!” Jeff turned and disappeared down the steps.

Sarah listened to his feet pounding on the stairs, then slowly closed the door. Her head was swimming with the news, and already she was making plans of what to do.

B
ut Sarah! I don’t see why you have to go so soon.”

Sarah looked at Abigail, who was clearly disturbed, but she knew what she had to do. Early the day after speaking with Jeff, she’d announced that she felt it was time for her to return home.

As she expected, Abigail began to argue, but Sarah insisted. “Now that the baby’s here, you’re all right—and Mary’s going to come in every day and help you take care of little William.”

Mary Munson was a neighbor who had been away for some time. She was the wife of Albert’s brother, and she was attached to Abigail. This gave Sarah a feeling of relief.

Abigail argued in vain.

The next morning Sarah packed her satchel and left Abigail with her sister-in-law, promising to write as soon as she got home. The parting was tearful on Abigail’s part, and she clung to Sarah, saying, “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Sarah walked down the street toward the railroad station. But she didn’t go there. She suddenly remembered seeing a livery stable down on Washington Street. Horses had been tied to the rail. Several buggies were lined up in an empty field.
Her mind worked quickly, and she knew she would have to be very careful.

A burly man with blacksmith’s muscles and a bald head met her as she walked into the lot.

“I need to buy a team and a wagon,” Sarah said. “What’s your name, sir?”

“I’m Lyle Jones.” He gave her a careful examination with his light blue eyes. “Well, I’ve got a good selection. You wanting to buy mules or horses, missy?”

“Horses if you have them.”

“Well, I do have a set that might please you,” Jones said. He took her out to the feed lot and showed her a pair of chestnuts grazing quietly. “Five years old. An easy pair to drive. I can make you a good price on them.”

Sarah was carrying considerably more than enough money for train fare, but she had not planned on buying horses and a wagon. By the time she had completed the transaction and paid for her purchase, she had only a few dollars left.

Lyle Jones harnessed the team and said with admiration, “You’re a pretty good horse trader, missy. You ever want a job, you come back here, you hear me?”

Sarah flashed him a smile. Then she climbed to the seat of the wagon and slapped the reins saying, “Get up, there!” and the team stepped out smartly.

She drove south out of Gettysburg, following the instructions that Jeff had given her. She had no trouble finding the Poteet house, for he had described it precisely. Once she did see Union soldiers marching down the road. They looked at her with admiration as they would at any pretty
woman, but she had merely driven by, not giving them a second glance.

As she drew up in front of the Poteets’ house, a man came out on the front porch. “Yes, miss?” he said, walking down the steps toward her. “Hast thee gotten thyself lost?”

Jeff had mentioned that the Poteets were Quakers, and Sarah knew by the man’s speech that that was his faith. “My name is Sarah Carter,” she said calmly. “I believe we have a mutual friend.”

Claude Poteet’s eyes grew small, and he studied her. “What might thy friend’s name be, missy?”

“Tom Majors. And his brother is with him—Jeff.”

Perhaps Jeff had not told the Poteets of his visit to town, for the man seemed a little suspicious. “What might thy friends be doing here, dost thee think?”

“I think Tom was wounded and needed help, and he found two people who were glad to give it to him.” Sarah smiled then and said, “You must be Claude, and your wife must be Ellie.”

Her winsome manner won the Quaker over at once. “Get thee down, Miss Carter, and come into the house.”

Sarah stepped out of the wagon as Claude tied the team, then followed him inside.

“Ellie, we have a visitor. We’re getting to be quite popular. This is Miss Sarah Carter.”

Ellie came wiping her hands on her apron. She took one look at Sarah’s face, and then glanced at her husband.

“She’s a friend of our two guests.”

“Oh, well, thee is welcome, Miss Carter.”

“Where’s Tom? Can I see him?”

“I should think so,” Ellie said promptly. “Husband, you take this young woman up there. I’ll see about fixing a lunch for her.”

As they walked toward the barn, the Quaker seemed to be studying Sarah. “Hast thee known the Majors lads long?”

“Oh, yes, we grew up together in Kentucky. Our people lived on adjoining farms.” She hesitated, but then said, “My people were Union, but the Majorses were for the South, so they moved to Virginia.”

Claude Poteet processed this information. “Thee is far away from Kentucky,” he observed.

“I came to be with a dear friend who was having her first child. She was lonely and afraid,” Sarah explained.

“Ah, friend Jeff’s mysterious trip night before last—I suppose he came to see you?”

“Yes, he did.”

“He told thee that friend Tom has lost his leg?”

“Yes, he told me that.”

“It has disturbed the lad considerably, but—” he stepped aside to let her go up the steps before him “—I think thy visit will do him good.”

Sarah started to climb the steps, and Claude Poteet called out, “Thee young fellows—are thee dressed? Thee have got a visitor.”

“Sure, we’re dressed.” Jeff’s voice came down the stairs.

“Well, go right on up, miss.”

Sarah mounted the stairs, and as soon as she came to the landing she saw Tom, sitting in a chair, his maimed leg out in front of him. His eyes flew open with shock.

Sarah did not hesitate. She went to him, put her arms around him, and hugged him hard. “Tom,” she whispered, “you’re safe. I’m so glad.”

Tom appeared utterly confused and shocked. “Sarah!” he said. “How did you get here?”

“I got her here,” Jeff said proudly. His eyes were beaming, and he winked at Claude Poteet, saying no more.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” Tom protested. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Nonsense,” Sarah admonished him. She looked him over. “How do you feel?”

Tom shrugged. “Better than I was.”

Sarah knew that it was time to face the real problem. “I’m sorry you lost your foot, Tom,” she said quietly. She saw his face flush, and he dropped his eyes, unable to meet hers. She reached out and pushed back his dark hair and added quietly, “It doesn’t matter.”

Tom looked up and said bitterly, “It does to me.”

Jeff put in quickly, “Well, now that you’re here, we can do some planning.”

Tom stared at him. “Planning for what?”

“Why, how to get out of here!”

“I don’t see how Sarah can help,” Tom muttered.

“I’ve already solved the problem,” Sarah announced proudly, and as all three men gaped at her she said, “I’m surprised you didn’t think of it yourselves.”

“What are you talking about, Sarah?” Jeff asked. “What’s your plan?”

“Well, the problem is that the road from here to Virginia is clogged with half of the Army of the
Potomac. They’re all headed that way to have a shoot-out, because that’s where Lee’s army is. And it’s not going to get any better.”

“That’s right,” Jeff said thoughtfully. “Washington’s so close to here that from now on the road to Virginia’s gonna be packed with Union soldiers. I don’t see any way around that.”

But Sarah had thought this through. “The answer is that we don’t go to Virginia.”

Tom was still staring at her, puzzled. “But we’ve got to go there!”

“No, we don’t.” Sarah smiled. She wanted to reach out and caress his hair again. She wanted to comb it and take care of him, but now was not the time to start that. When they were free, then they could talk. She saw the rebellion in his face and knew how the loss of his foot had hurt him—had stripped him of his manhood, so he thought. Now she said merely, “We’re going to Kentucky.”

Silence fell across the room.

Then Jeff exclaimed, “Why, sure! We can cut west, get on the back roads—and I’ll bet we won’t see any Yankees at all.”

“That might be true,” Claude Poteet broke in. He gazed at Sarah with admiration. “Thee is a good plan maker, Miss Carter. The roads that way will be almost deserted.”

“But we
can’t
go to Kentucky,” Tom exclaimed. “We’re still technically in the army, Jeff. They could shoot us for desertion.”

“No, they won’t,” Jeff said. “We’ve got men scattered everywhere trying to get back. We’re just taking the long way around, that’s all. We’ll get back sooner or later. But now the idea is to get away.”

Tom bowed his head, perhaps thinking he would never be a soldier again anyway. Finally he lifted his head. “It doesn’t matter. Kentucky’s as good as anywhere.”

It was not what Sarah wanted to hear, and she was troubled by the sadness and the doubt in Tom’s eyes.
He’s given up
, she thought,
but I’ll change that when I get him home
. Aloud she said, “I’ve got a wagon and a team. We’ll need to fix a place for you to lie down in the back.”

“Jeff and I can do that quick enough,” Claude said.

“Sure we can,” Jeff agreed enthusiastically. “And we can think up a story in case we do meet any Union patrols.”

Soon Ellie came up the stairs. “Well, is thee ready for lunch?”

“Yes,” Claude said and then added, “Miss Carter’s taking our young friends away. They’re going to Kentucky—to her home.”

Ellie Poteet considered this and then said practically, “They can leave as soon as we cook enough food to last them all the way there. Come now. Time to have lunch.”

Ellie Poteet was as good as her word. All the next day she cooked, and the kitchen was fragrant with the smell of roast turkey and frying meat and fresh bread.

At dusk the day following, Tom made his way down the stairs, aided by Jeff and Sarah.

Sarah knew he hated to lean on them, yet he refused to be carried. The trip hurt him, but he bit his lips and said nothing.

The wagon had a canvas top and was loaded with fresh-smelling food. Inside was a bed made of straw ticking and clean blankets.

Tom stood behind the wagon and said his goodbyes to the Poteets. “I thank you folks,” he said. “I didn’t know Yankees could be so generous.”

“I think folks that know the Lord are the same, both North and South,” Claude Poteet said. He took the young man’s hand and shook it.

But Ellie pulled his head down and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thee has good friends, and thee must trust God to make up thy loss,” she said.

Tom stared at her. She was telling him to put his loss aside, to get on with his life. But all he could do was murmur, “Thank you, Mrs. Poteet, for everything.” He eased himself into the wagon.

The other good-byes were said. Jeff also took a kiss from Mrs. Poteet and shook Claude’s hand, thanking them profusely.

Ellie reached her hands out to Sarah. When Sarah took them, she pulled her closer, saying, “Thee has a good man, but he is fearfully hurt.”

“I know.”

“I don’t mean his leg. He can overcome that. But he is hurt inside, in his spirit. Thee must be very patient.”

Sarah knew exactly what the woman was saying. “I know. You must pray for us, Mrs. Poteet, you and your husband.”

“Indeed. Thee knows I will do that.” Then she said, “Will thee write me a letter?”

“Of course, I will.”

“Good. I will be expecting great things from thee and from thy young man.”

Sarah flushed. She said quietly, “I love him very much.”

“He will need all of thy love and all of God’s love too,” Ellie whispered.

Then they were all in the wagon. Jeff and Sarah were on the front seat, Jeff driving. He spoke to the team, and they started down the lane.

They looked back and waved until they turned onto the road and the Poteets disappeared into the darkness. Jeff said, “Fine people. They’ve saved Tom’s life.”

“Yes, and they’re devoted to each other. You could see that, couldn’t you? And fine Christians too.”

The wagon rumbled along. The moon was full, and the dark sky was spangled with stars, so that the road was clearly visible.

Sarah looked back into the wagon once. She could not see Tom’s face, but she whispered, “Are you all right, Tom?”