Free Spinning the Moon by Karen White Page B

didn’t try to hide his exasperation. “It’s 1863.”
    My mind spun back to all the history lessons I had ever sat through at the side of my father, a self-described history buff, and all of my studies in school. I remembered a biography of General William T. Sherman I had done in honors history in tenth grade but nothing specific about the year 1863.
    â€œPlease help me refresh my memory. What’s happening in the country right now?”
    Either he didn’t believe a woman could actually be a spy or he’d forgotten that he’d just accused me of being one, because the doctor proceeded to tell me everything I would want to know if I were, indeed, a spy. “This is pure conjecture, mind you, gleaned from listening to our wounded heroes and reading between the lines of the newspaper, but I believe that our General Lee has finally taken the initiative and is attempting to bring the war into Lincoln’s backyard. I imagine he will be crossing the Potomac any day now and heading north toward Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Smack-dab in the middle of Yankee territory. I wish I could be with them, but I know this town needs a doctor more than General Lee needs one more soldier.” The doctor crossed one skinny leg over another and settled back in his chair.
    Keeping his stiff leg out in front of him, Stuart balanced his coffee cup on his other knee and turned to look at Dr. Watkins. “Yes, Charles. It is also convenient that you had to pull your two front teeth—the ones a soldier needs to tear open a cartridge with in the heat of battle. Unfortunately, that will also keep a man off the battlefield.”
    The doctor stiffened. “If you were not such an old friend, Stuart, I would call you out for that. You know as well as I do that those teeth were rotten and that I am needed here.”
    â€œI am sure you are,” Stuart said as he took another sip of the rancid brew, and grimaced.
    The mention of Pennsylvania and Lee’s initiative pricked my memory. “Gettysburg,” I murmured. The one piece of trivia that stuck in my mind was that following the battle, Lee’s train of wounded stretched for more than fourteen miles.
    â€œWhat do you mean by Gettysburg?” The doctor looked at me with irritation, his hand waving my comment aside. “No, Mrs. Truitt, it is rumored that General Lee is going to the state capital of Harrisburg—and will hopefully do to them what Grant’s army is doing to those poor suffering people in Vicksburg.”
    I knew nothing of Harrisburg, but the name Gettysburg and its bloody aftermath would be etched on the minds of the American people for centuries to come. Not wanting to get into an argument, and perhaps reveal more than I should, I let his remarks go without comment.
    I looked at Stuart, a soldier in this conflict. Although I didn’t really know him, I was comforted in the knowledge that here was one less soldier whose bullet-ridden body would be lying on the field of battle in a war that was to me a foregone conclusion.
    Stuart stood and limped over to the window. “Julia, Mrs. Truitt seems to have suffered a blow to her head and cannot remember much more than her name and the street she lives on. I would like to offer her our hospitality until her memory returns or we find out who she is.”
    Julia turned to me. “Of course. You may stay as long as you like. I am beholden to you for what you did for my Willie.” She placed a warm hand on my arm and squeezed it gently.
    â€œThank you both. I’ll do my best to help you with the house and children, Julia. And I’ll find some way to repay you for your kindness.”
    â€œYou already have. Do not think any more about it.” Julia patted my arm gently.
    â€œI’d also like to ask your friends and neighbors to see if they know anything about a baby being found on the mountain. I don’t know where else to look.”
    Julia’s hand