“Come here, girl,” the blue coat shouted.
Betsy ran, but not fast enough. The Yankee captain grabbed her arm and spun her around.
“Let go of me, you beast!” Her heart beat faster than a Kentucky race horse.
“Sweetheart, what did you bury in the garden?”
When she struggled, he pressed her against his chest. “Don’t try to deny it, sweetie. The ground is fresh turned.”
“The old dog.” She spat in his face.
He swore, shoving her away. “I don’t believe you.”
“Dig it up, yourself. I was afraid your soldiers would eat it. They’ve eaten everything else.”
Now I hope you’ll read what the others wrote: www.facebook.com/WonHundredWords/photos/a.1697701293793386.1073741827.1697271893836326/1878383532391827/?type=3&theater