Free The Girls of Gettysburg by Bobbi Miller Page B

hold down. Just like her fear.
    She felt the wagon turn and slow. Finally it stopped. And a moment later, Mrs. Woods flipped the blanket over.
    â€œNegroes, Adam?” Mrs. Woods looked at him with rounded, worried eyes.
    â€œYou know Abraham’s daughter. He’s helped us plenty, now it’s our turn to help him.”
    â€œIf they catch us, Adam, hiding negroes . . .”
    â€œWe’ll be fine, Sarah.” Mr. Butler helped Sorry out of the wagon, while Weezy and Grace jumped free.
    Flitting like a bird, Mrs. Woods pushed the girls into the back of the stone house. Grace knew where they were: Culp’s Hill. Quickly Mrs. Woods ushered the three into another cellar, into another tiny room.
    â€œYou need to be quiet,” Mrs. Woods urged. “I’ll come down to check on you when I can. Whatever happens, do not make a sound, and do not leave this room!”
    The room was smaller than the one in Miss Mary’s cellar, no more than a hole in the wall. The slant of the roof made it impossible to sit up. No hay or blankets to cushion them. The three lay on the dirt floor.
    â€œShame about the dress,” Weezy whispered. “It was the best thing I ever hope to have.”
    Grace nodded.
    â€œYour pappa would be proud of you,” Weezy said then.
    Grace shook her head. She couldn’t speak, worry stealing her voice.
    â€œGrace is a good name,” Weezy said. “There’s power in a name.”
    But Grace could only shake her head again.
    â€œPap says names are our stories. They tell us who we are. They tell us where we come from.”
    â€œWhat kind of name is Weezy?” Grace managed.
    â€œThat’s just what
they
call me.” Weezy chuckled. “My auntie named me Wisdom. Mam’s Wisdom, she called me. And you, this is who you are: Abraham was the chosen one, you know, gone on a long journey to the land of milk and honey. He was a peaceable man, and a wise man. God called on him, and Abraham followed. He’s the father of faith. And you be Abraham’s Grace. Can’t be a more powerful name than that.”
    Grace looked up. A thin ray of moonlight came through a splintered plank and danced across the shiny face of Wisdom.
    â€œThat’s your name to keep,” Wisdom said. “And I’ll remember your name, and your story. And wherever we go, I will tell everyone I meetall about Abraham’s Grace, who delivered us to safety in the night. And you will remember my name. Wisdom. And you’ll tell my story to your pappa, when he comes for you. And you’ll tell my story to your mamma when you see her, too. So we won’t be forgot. So my mam and my pap won’t be forgot. You tell your pappa when you see him?”
    â€œI will tell my pappa,” Grace whispered.
    She clapped her hands over her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut. Her body shook. Wisdom patted her back, laying her head on her shoulder.
    â€œYeah, that’s what we’ll do,” she whispered.

PART NINE

ANNIE

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Tuesday, June 30
    Annie made her way back to the camp, sore from marching, her arms heavy from the Enfield. And she itched. But as bad as these skeeters were, Dylan was worse, a gnawing itch that just wouldn’t let up. He was like James in that, always gnawing away at her. Mama told her to pick her battles, but didn’t that Dylan ever give up?
    As she stepped closer to the campfire, she saw Dylan had his nose in William’s book, and he was tearing a page free of the spine.
    And she exploded like buckshot.
    â€œ
Enough!
” she shouted, so loud that Gideon stood up at his own campsite. Others, too, looked up with a start. Even as everyone watched, no one moved in their direction.
    She lunged into Dylan, so hard that he let loose a grunt as air escaped his lungs. Coughing and sputtering, Dylan dropped to his hands and knees, gripping his chest. Before he moved again, she kicked him, hard enough to spin him