A More Perfect Union
Contents (170)
- July 1848
- Chapter 1
- Henry
- October 1848
- Chapter 2
- Sarah
- Chapter 3
- Henry
- Chapter 4
- Sarah
- November 1848
- Chapter 5
- Sarah
- Chapter 6
- Maple
- January 1849
- Chapter 7
- Henry
- Chapter 8
- Maple
- April 1849
- Chapter 9
- Sarah
- Chapter 10
- Henry
- Chapter 11
- Sarah
- May 1849
- Chapter 12
- Maple
- Chapter 13
- Henry
- Chapter 14
- Sarah
- Chapter 15
- Henry
- Chapter 16
- Maple
- Chapter 17
- Sarah
- Chapter 18
- Maple
- Chapter 19
- Henry
- Chapter 20
- Sarah
- Chapter 21
- Henry
- Chapter 22
- Sarah
- Chapter 23
- Henry
- Chapter 24
- Sarah
- Chapter 25
- Maple
- June 1849
- Chapter 26
- Henry
- Chapter 27
- Sarah
- Chapter 28
- Henry
- Chapter 29
- Maple
- Chapter 30
- Sarah
- Chapter 31
- Henry
- Chapter 32
- Maple
- Chapter 33
- Henry
- Chapter 34
- Sarah
- Chapter 35
- Henry
- Chapter 36
- Sarah
- Chapter 37
- Henry
- Chapter 38
- Sarah
- Chapter 39
- Henry
- Chapter 40
- Sarah
- Chapter 41
- Henry
- Chapter 42
- Maple
- Chapter 43
- Henry
- July 1849
- Chapter 44
- Sarah
- Chapter 45
- Henry
- Chapter 46
- Sarah
- Chapter 47
- Maple
- Chapter 48
- Henry
- Chapter 49
- Sarah
- Chapter 50
- Henry
- Chapter 51
- Sarah
- Chapter 52
- Maple
- Chapter 53
- Henry
- August 1849
- Chapter 54
- Sarah
- Chapter 55
- Henry
- Chapter 56
- Sarah
- Chapter 57
- Maple
- Chapter 58
- Henry
- Chapter 59
- Sarah
- Chapter 60
- Henry
- Chapter 61
- Sarah
- Chapter 62
- Maple
- Chapter 63
- Henry
- Chapter 64
- Sarah
- Chapter 65
- Henry
- Chapter 66
- Sarah
- Chapter 67
- Maple
- Chapter 68
- Henry
- Chapter 69
- Sarah
- Chapter 70
- Henry
- Chapter 71
- Sarah
- Chapter 72
- Henry
- Chapter 73
- Maple
- Chapter 74
- Sarah
- Chapter 75
- Henry
- March 1850
- Chapter 76
- Sarah
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Reading Group Guide
- Author’s Note
- Discussion Questions
- A Q&A with the Author
- Praise for
- A More Perfect Union


This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Tammye Huf
Reading group guide copyright © 2022 by Tammye Huf and Hachette Book Group, Inc.
Cover design by Leah Jacobs-Gordon
Cover copyright © 2022 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
Hachette Book Group supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
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Originally published in 2020 by Myriad Editions in Oxford, England
First U.S. Trade Paperback Edition: January 2022
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The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Huf, Tammye, author.
Title: A more perfect union / Tammye Huf.
Description: First U.S. Trade Paperback Edition. | New York : Forever, 2022.
Identifi ers: LCCN 2021032994 | ISBN 9781538720851 (trade paperback) | ISBN 9781538720844 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Virginia—History—19th century—Fiction. | LCGFT: Novels. | Historical fiction.
Classification: LCC PS3608.U34965 M67 2022 | DDC 813/.6—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021032994
ISBN: 978-1-5387-2085-1 (trade paperback), 978-1-5387-2084-4 (ebook)
E3-20211116-JV-NF-ORI
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July 1848
Chapter 1
Henry
Two dead men walking up the road. That’s what we look like, Da and me trudging out to the work gang in rags and tatters. Da hitches his threadbare trousers up. With nothing left to cling to, they’ve taken to sliding down every few steps. The string I use to tie mine still holds.
The deep pit we pass is one of ours. We dig ditches one week that we fill in the next, or build roads to nowhere, earning just enough to keep us alive. The English answer to the Irish starving.
Da and me walk three miles over dirt roads running through green hills, but when we get to the relief works station there’s a grumbling crowd of surly men.
The relief works man, over from England, holds out his hands for quiet, but no one settles down, so he shouts over the noise, “In light of the fact that your harvest will be ready in a matter of weeks, the decision has been taken to suspend the relief works program. You should all go home and wait for the harvest.”