Patrick waited for Maggie to comment, but she stayed silent.
As Logan’s cabin gradually came into view and a flock of birds sailed over the distant trees, Maggie turned to her father. Many questions were still bursting inside her.
“Patrick…I need to think about all this. I feel as though I’m on a carnival ride, with bright lights and bells and strange contorted faces whirling by. I feel both breathlessly free and hopelessly scared and confused.”
“Of course, Maggie. Of course, you need time. I understand. Even after living in the future for nearly a year, I still find myself disoriented and misplaced. Without Eve’s love and understanding, I fear I might not make it. But I think you will adjust better than I, faster and more easily than I, Maggie. You’re an actress, and even in 2018, New York City is filled with theatres, and there are things called television and movies that you cannot even conceive of but will offer you endless possibilities to display your looks and talent. Yes, I think you will fit in just fine there.”
In the late afternoon, Eve napped, giving the others the opportunity to prepare for a secret birthday celebration for her. Patrick had quietly spread the word earlier in the day and encouraged her to rest for a few hours. Maggie immediately went to work in the kitchen, helping Logan prepare smoked meat, beans cooked in maple syrup, peameal bacon, and a butter tart. Neither Maggie, Duncan nor Patrick had ever heard of peameal bacon, so Logan explained.
“It used to be my father’s favorite breakfast food,” he said while he cut thin slices and placed them in a hot pan. “It’s made from lean boneless pork loin cured in maple brine, then it’s rolled in cornmeal.”
While Patrick helped Maggie finish up in the kitchen, Logan led Duncan outside, where they cut down a six-foot spruce tree and gathered bright red-orange winterberry fruit, evergreen branches and pine cones.
After the Christmas tree was up and Duncan was working on making a wreath and a centerpiece, Logan went to the garage and came back carrying several four-inch red tissue bells, a foot-high glass figurine of Santa Claus that didn’t resemble the modern image of Santa, and a box containing several Victorian Christmas ornaments that would adorn the spruce tree.
After the sun had settled over the snowy trees, a sleepy-eyed Eve descended the stairs, having been awakened by the heavenly kitchen aromas. The living room glowed with a fresh fire that colored the walls yellow and orange, and a table centerpiece made of winterberry and evergreen scented the room with the smells of Christmas.
Patrick and Logan had just finished hanging a burlap Happy Birthday banner above the hearth, and just as Eve left the last step, Patrick burst into Happy Birthday. The others joined in, all off key except Maggie, whose voice rose smooth and mellow, ending with a high, dramatic flourish.
In bright surprise and delight, Eve clapped enthusiastically as she took in the decorations and the festive table setting. Patrick mounted the first step to stand tall and make an announcement.
“Mrs. Eve Gantly, even though your birthday is technically tomorrow, December 17th, we have decided to celebrate tonight, since we will be leaving tomorrow.”
And then they surrounded her with kisses and congratulations.
As they arranged themselves around the table, Maggie and Duncan insisted on being waitress and waiter. They started by filling everyone’s wine glass with Logan’s homemade blackberry wine.
Everyone ate voraciously, laughed easily and recapped their escape stories. Only Duncan remained largely quiet, although even he laughed when Maggie recounted how she had jumped up and down and cursed at that stubborn back tire.
They toasted Logan for his great food, wine and hospitality, and he blushed, although he seemed genuinely touched by their tributes.
For his part, he was enjoying himself more than he had in many months, forgetting, for a time, about his wife’s disappearance and the war in Europe. He toasted his guests, generously announcing that they could stay as long as they wished.
The butter tart was served with strong black tea and a jug of homemade apple cider, and after another round of Happy Birthday, Eve got up and thanked everyone for one of the most fun and memorable birthdays she’d ever had. And then her eyes strayed toward Logan’s hanging violin. She turned to Logan and pointed.
“Do you play, Logan?”
He lowered his eyes. “Not so well, Mrs. Gantly. I haven’t’ played in a long time.”
“Would you mind playing a little waltz so that I can have a birthday dance with my husband?”
Without another word, Logan arose and went for his violin.
“Well, you will get what you pay for,” he said, carefully removing the violin from the secure brackets. All waited and watched as Logan handled the instrument lovingly, tuning it, plucking the strings with a close ear and running the bow across the strings until he was satisfied it was tuned.
He stood tall and straight as he announced his selection, the golden glow of the fire bathing him. “All right, then, it just so happens that I do know a waltz. I shall play Destiny Waltz by Sydney Baynes.”
Poised and ready, Logan began, the bow sweeping down and dancing gently upon the strings.
Eve reached a hand to Patrick and, with a tender smile, he took her hand and led her to the middle of the room. They swayed easily, finding the rhythm and soon falling into a slow, easy turn, circling the room, dipping and whirling as the melody lifted spirits and brought smiles. From the table where Maggie and Duncan still sat, they tapped their feet and fingers.
Within a few moments, Maggie had Duncan on the floor joining the dance, their technique and style polished and lilting, bringing a bright smile to everyone’s lips.
When Logan started a second waltz, a cheerful melody called Hearts Longing, Maggie touched Eve on the shoulder. “Do you mind, Mrs. Gantly, if I dance with my young and handsome father?”
Eve bowed and retreated. Maggie and Patrick stood silently for a time, looking long and steady at each other before Patrick finally took her hand. She placed her other hand on his shoulder and soon they were off, waltzing about the room, Patrick all grins and pleasure. Maggie’s head was arched back in sophistication, her lithe body moving in grace, her face serene, her burgundy dress swaying.
Eve and Duncan joined in, and the night was filled with the perfect pitch of romance, enjoyment, dancing and good hearts.
At some point, as exhaustion was settling in, Logan took another swig of cider and got a second wind. He grabbed his violin and struck up a lively song. The fiddle sprang to life with an Irish jig in 6/8 time.
To Eve’s great surprise, Patrick leaped to his feet and began to dance in a series of hops, steps and turns. He was absolutely magnificent. She’d never seen him dance so expertly or with such energy and enthusiasm. Maggie soon joined him, skipping along, hair bouncing, her agile feet rarely leaving the ground for long. Eve watched the two of them dance and her heart opened. Patrick and Maggie had finally joined as father and daughter, and Eve had never seen her husband so happy.
Logan caught the fever, and his fiddle exploded to life, the bow a blur of movement, his face filled with delight.
Eve grabbed Duncan and soon they were flying off in quick breaths, caught with elation, hands clapping loud and sharp. The room was riotous with the spirit of the dance as they hopped, arched and swayed and, for a time, the world was a good and loving place, where good hearts joined and would always be joined.
After the clean-up, though all were fatigued and sleepy, they finished the night seated around the fire, with Logan again playing his violin. They joined in singing Christmas carols, ending with the reverent Silent Night.
Near dawn, Eve awoke with a start, having felt Patrick leave the bed. She lifted on elbows. “Can’t sleep?”
“Eve… the last time we used that lantern, it set us down in two different places and in two different times. There’s no guarantee the thing will take us back home.”
“No, Patrick, there is no guarantee. But we must try to get back home.”
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“It’s just that I’m afraid for you and Maggie.”
“Are you sure she wants to come with us?”
“Of course, I’m sure. Her life as she knows it has ended in this time. She’ll get a brand-new start in our time, and I know she’ll fit right in.”
Eve sat up and leaned back against the bed, wanting to change the subject.
“Thank you for my beautiful birthday necklace. I’m going to pack it in my security belt just in case.”
“Do you like it? I found it in an old shop in the Village.”
“Of course, I like it. I love the amethyst opal.”
“I’ve been thinking. If for whatever reason the lantern doesn’t return us, we could make a good life in this country. It’s a vast and good country, I think.”
Eve crossed her arms. “Logan said he’d have the lantern ready for us in the morning. He said he’d get up early and work on it.”
“He’s a good man, Eve. I like him. I wish he would come with us as well, instead of going off to fight in that terrible war.”
Eve fell into silent thoughts, as worried as Patrick about the lantern, if it would work and where it would leave them if it did.
CHAPTER 41
Logan sat slumped at the kitchen table, the lantern and a mug of coffee before him. Eve approached in an olive day dress, her hand covering a yawn. Patrick had gone back to sleep, but she couldn’t, so she got up.
“Good morning, Logan,” she said. “Thanks again for letting us invade your place. I had such a good time last night.”
Logan was quiet. He didn’t respond or stir. Her eyes were stuck to the lantern. It had been completely repaired. The glass panes had been replaced, the wire guards straightened, the burner repaired, the wick new and visible. It had been buffed and polished to its original rich green/brown patina. The anchor design on each side of the roof was as sharp and clear as Eve had ever seen it.
In a wonder, Eve sat to Logan’s right and reached to touch it. “It’s remarkable, Logan. It looks new.”
Logan’s eyes were red-rimmed, and they had a vacant, weary look.
“Are you feeling okay, Logan?”
His stare remained fixed on the lantern. When he spoke, his tone was rusty and breathy, with a faraway quality. “What is the origin of this lantern?”
“I don’t really know, Logan. It was taken from the rear axil of a wagon in 1885 during a snowstorm. A woman took it to help a man out of an overturned carriage. I found it in an antique store in 2017. That’s all I know about it.”
Logan kept boring into it with his eyes. “I almost destroyed the lantern last night. I had the hammer in my hand, and I was going to bash it into pieces and bury them out in the trees where no one would ever find them.”
Eve folded her hands on the table. “Why didn’t you, Logan? What stopped you?”
“Who can understand it? How can I understand how it is that this worthless old lantern took my wife from me? It makes no sense. Is it an evil thing or a good thing?”
He finally pulled his eyes from it and looked at her. “Mrs. Gantly, Eve, can you explain it to me?”
“I can’t, Logan. I don’t know.”
“When you return to your own time, will you promise me that you’ll try to find my Kady?”
Eve saw the painful force of his gaze.
“Will you please try to find her?”
Eve had decided that when they returned home, she would toss the lantern in the Hudson River and be done with it. She wanted no more time travel.
Eve squirmed.
“Will you please, Eve?”
“Logan, we have no way of knowing where Kady went. You asked me if the lantern is evil. I don’t think so. It seems to have some kind of strange otherworldly intelligence. It seems to take a person where they need to go, and not always where they want or wish to go. Chances are, your wife landed in some other time and place that has some personal meaning for her. I doubt if she would have ever thought about traveling to New York City in 2018.”
Logan turned thoughtful, his face haunted. He turned left and reached for a magazine cover that had been carefully cut from the body of the magazine. He handed it to Eve.
“I found this placed on top of Kady’s private trunk. She had always talked about how much she wanted to travel to New York.”
Eve took the cover, apprehensively. It was the 1914 popular magazine, New York Illustrated, featuring a colorful panorama of lower Manhattan taken from the Brooklyn Bridge tower. On the left was the tallest building in the world, The Woolworth Building. To the right was the 40 story Municipal Building. It also showed the waterfront, South Street with its docks and shipping activity that was the hub of maritime New York.
Logan waited for Eve to lift her eyes. “You see… Well, I thought that maybe Kady was thinking about New York just before she’d vanished, and since that lantern had taken you to 2017, maybe it took her as well.”
Eve laid the cover aside. “All right, Logan, when we return—if we return—I will do some searching and, if by some chance Kady did travel to our time, I’ll try to contact her.”
That seemed to satisfy him, and he managed a tight smile. “Thank you, Eve. Thank you for that. You see, I keep thinking that maybe she got into some trouble and she needs my help. She wouldn’t have any money or friends—no one to help her if things went wrong. Maybe she wants to come back home, but she has no way of accomplishing it.”
“Okay, Logan. I’ll do what I can.”
His eyes came to hers and he smiled gratefully. “Thank you. I am truly grateful to you.”
As the fire hissed and crackled, Logan’s smile fell away. “According to what you told me yesterday, after you and the others have, well, gone into the future, the lantern will remain with me, will it not?”
He seemed to steal the thought from her brain. “Yes, Logan. You know how important it is that it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands. If the wrong person got the lantern, they could use it in the wrong way… Well, you understand.”
“Yes, I have thought about that. I thought about what might happen if I were to give it to our military. Perhaps it would help end this war before it grows worse.”
Eve shot to her feet. “Logan, you can’t do that. It could change history and the entire balance of the world.”
“Haven’t you and your husband already changed history?”
Eve stared at him. “Yes… but we can only hope it won’t change things too dramatically. If the military got ahold of it…”
Her voice trailed off. “You know what could happen.”
Logan pulled the lantern closer to him. “So maybe I should destroy it then.”
They heard a voice behind them. “No, don’t do that.”
Eve and Logan turned to Maggie. She approached the table, wearing a long white gown, her creamy skin glowing, her hair piled high on her head, looking very much like a sleepy goddess.
Maggie’s complete attention was focused on the lantern. “Logan, the lantern is yours, given to you by your mother. It is yours to keep, yours to give and yours to destroy. If you don’t wish to keep it, then I ask that you give it to me.”
Eve didn’t stir.
Maggie rested her soft almond eyes on Eve. “Eve, I’m not going with you and Patrick.”
Eve noticed Patrick standing at the top of the stairs. She could tell by his worried expression that he had heard Maggie’s decision.
“I don’t understand,” Patrick said.
Maggie pivoted. Their eyes met. “I’m not of your time, Patrick. I don’t want to jump into the future. My life is already topsy-turvy, and my head is reeling from the last weeks. I have to find a new home, a new career and a new way to live, but I want to do it in this time. In my time. It’s a time and a world I know. I want the natural progression of my life in this time, and not in yours.”
Patrick struggled to hide his anguish. Not only was he disappointed at the thought of losing Maggie but, Eve knew, in many ways he felt the same way. Had he
been given the choice, he certainly would have stayed in 1885. But he’d been denied that opportunity. If Eve had not brought him to 2017 New York, where he could receive antibiotics, he would have died.
Maggie started for her father, pausing at the base of the stairs. “Patrick, you understand, don’t you?”
Patrick stood still and tall, hands on his hips. “So after finding you, I’m going to lose you again?”
“No. You saved my life. You freed me to choose my own way. Isn’t that what you intended to do?”
Patrick didn’t speak.
“Patrick…I made a mess of my life in the past, but I’ll be better and wiser in the future.”
Under Patrick’s thoughtful gaze, she smiled coquettishly. “And how would I ever explain you to my friends in the future? Yes, this is my father. Yes, I know, he is very young to be my father; he is only seven years older than I. How do I explain it? I can’t, can I? I’m 29 years old and you are 36.”
Maggie looked at him lovingly. “You have given me life twice, father. You and Eve risked your lives to save me from certain death. Thank you. I will be grateful to you forever. But now I must live that newly-given life in my own way.”
Maggie turned to Logan. “About the lantern. Logan, I know you’re about to leave for war. If I can be so bold, and if you can be so generous, I would like to have the lantern. I mean, what if I change my mind and decide to travel to see my father in the future?”
Logan slowly pushed up. “I understand your implication, Maggie. If I am killed, there is no way of knowing who might take possession of the lantern. Yes, I’ve thought about that.”
Maggie took steps toward him. “I hope and pray you will not be killed, Logan. And I hope we stay in touch and that we will correspond and stay the best of friends.”
“I would like that, Maggie. I would like that very much.”
Eve got up, glancing back toward the garage. “What should we do about Duncan? He doesn’t know anything about the lantern.”
The Christmas Eve Daughter - A Time Travel Novel: The Sequel to The Christmas Eve Letter Page 28
