Northern Light

by Annette O'Hare

  Papa stood straight while the young man approached.

  June draped her arms around one of her father’s legs and hid her face.

  When the soldier reached Papa, he gave a military salute.

  Papa acknowledged him with a nod.

  “Ensign Carol Jerome Miller with the United States Navy reporting from the U.S. Lighthouse Board in New Orleans, Louisiana. I’ve just arrived here by boat and I’m looking for…” He reached into his pocket, pulled out some folded paper, and looked at it. “Are you Mr. Jebediah Logan, sir?”

  Papa unclasped June from his leg and hoisted her onto his hip. “Yes, I’m Jebediah Logan.” He put June on the ground. “Ensign Miller, is it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Has the Union gained control over the Gulf Coast?”

  Ensign Miller squinted at Papa. “I can’t believe you folks don’t even know.”

  Papa stepped off the porch. “Don’t know what?”

  “Sir, General Lee surrendered to General Grant at the Appomattox Court House in Virginia back on April the ninth. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but the war is over and the Confederacy has fallen.”

  Mama grabbed the porch rail and leaned into it for support. “Do you really mean it? The war is over?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Miller’s horse nuzzled his ear. He pushed the horse away. “I suppose you don’t know that President Lincoln was assassinated either.”

  Margaret covered her mouth with her hand, horrified. How could the war be over? The war had consumed every hour, every minute, every second of her life for the past four years…and now, just like that, it was over. And President Lincoln…oh, that poor man, and his family. This horrible war had taken so much, so much away from both sides.

  “The war is over! The war is over.” June began jumping up and down.

  Margaret sank into a rocking chair. She was afraid she might drop with all the spinning going on inside her head.

  Mama and Papa asked the ensign a myriad of questions.

  Margaret’s mind was a swirl of unsettling emotions. What had become of Thomas? Did he know the war was over? Was he on his way back for her now?

  ~*~

  Papa invited Ensign Miller inside.

  Margaret scraped the last of the ground coffee into the pot. It was barely enough to change the water from clear to brown. She put the pot on the stove and went in to join the others in the front room.

  Mama sat next to Papa.

  June and Jeremiah sat on the floor, playing with toys. Jeremiah cooed with laughter as June sang her made-up song to him. “The war is over. The war is over. Yippy skippy, yippy skippy, the war is over.”

  Ensign Miller laughed and then looked at Papa. “Mr. Logan, I was sent here to report that Acting Lighthouse Engineer, M. F. Bonzano, has already prepared a three-story wooden tower in New Orleans to be erected here on Bolivar Point. It has always been common knowledge that the port at Galveston, Texas, is of utmost importance to the United States, and it is imperative that a light be erected as soon as humanly possible.”

  Papa held Mama’s hand, but then let go and scooted to the edge of his seat. “Ensign Miller, I find it hard to believe that the war could be over when only a week ago, a Confederate blockade runner, The Denbigh, ran ashore right off the coast here.” Papa sounded indignant as he gestured toward the beach. “Most of the crew came ashore after the Union boarded her and set her on fire, for heaven’s sake!” Disbelief colored Papa’s stark tone.

  Miller pulled a pure-white handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead. “I don’t know anything about that, Mr. Logan. I suppose word hasn’t trickled down here as yet. I do know that the structure is expected to arrive here sometime in July, and I was sent here to inspect the sight and report back to Engineer Bonzano on my findings.” He put his hanky back in his pocket. “Sir, whether you believe the war is over or not, that lighthouse is coming and we need to be ready for it.”

  “All right, say I believe the war’s over and this lighthouse is on its way. What’s gonna become of me and my family?”

  Ensign Miller put his hands up. “There’s no need to be defensive here, Mr. Logan. I didn’t come here to cause you or your family any harm. In fact, Engineer Bonzano was quite familiar with the fine work you did at your post back in Louisiana, and I was told that if I found you were still here, to inform you that this post is yours for the taking.”

  Mama clamped a hand over her mouth and fell back in her chair. She made a strange sound like a cry mixed with glee.

  Margaret gasped and clutched her chest.

  A rare smile overcame Papa’s face and he patted Mama’s knee. “That sounds like an interesting offer, Ensign Miller.” He looked at Mama and smiled. “But what can you tell me about the New Orleans lights?”

  Margaret remembered she had coffee on the stove and rushed to the kitchen. She touched the handle and immediately pulled her hand back. “Ouch.” She put two fingers in her mouth and then grabbed a towel for the handle.

  “As far as I know, the Port Pontchartrain light was dismantled just as this one was and hasn’t been rebuilt, to date. And I believe the New Canal light was relit during the war and the previous keeper is once again manning that station.” Miller accepted the cup Margaret handed him. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  Mama took her cup and then Papa.

  “I suppose there’s no longer a lighthouse post for us in Louisiana,” Papa said.

  “Papa, we can’t go back to Louisiana. If Elizabeth goes to Austin, we need to stay in Texas. And what if Thomas returns and we’re not here? We can’t leave, Papa.”

  Papa raised his hand. “Calm down, Margaret. I know we can’t go back, honey.” He turned his attention back to Miller and chuckled. “Well, I guess you have your answer, Ensign. We’ll take the post.”

  Miller stood and offered his hand to Papa, who rose and accepted his handshake. “That’s wonderful, Mr. Logan. Mr. Bonzano will be pleased to hear the news.” He continued to shake Papa’s hand. “Oh…and if it’s not too much of a burden, I would like to request permission to lodge with you and your family until the erection of the lighthouse is completed.”

  Papa released his hand and folded his arms. “Well, I suppose that won’t be a problem. We’re running short on food, but what’s one more mouth to feed. We’ll find a way.”

  Miller shook his head. “Oh yes, of course, I almost forgot. I have six months of lighthouse rations with me to give to you and your family. It’s back at the dock, waiting to be picked up.”

  June jumped up from the floor. Her eyes were wide with excitement as she approached Ensign Miller and put her hands on his bent knees. She leaned in. “Is rations food? You brought food for us?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I have plenty of food for your whole family.”

  “Yippee.” June twirled around.

  Miller patted his breast pocket and pulled out a thick envelope. He handed it to Papa. “This money should cover your expenses.”

  Papa opened the envelope and thumbed through the bills. A low whistle escaped his lips.

  Mama’s hand covered her mouth.

  Only weeks before, the family worried about how they would pay for Elizabeth’s treatment. Now they had more than enough.

  Papa leaned toward Mama and put the envelope in her hands. He whispered in her ear, but Margaret overheard what he said. “Sees, Caroline…didn’t I tell you?”

  Tears ran down Mama’s cheeks. She held the envelope to her chest. “My God will provide. My God will provide.”

  Margaret offered her own silent prayer of thanksgiving.

  29

  Margaret hadn’t felt so sad since Thomas left with her heart in December. It didn’t seem like five months had gone by…it was more like an eternity. Now Elizabeth was leaving too.

  Ensign Miller offered the services of his horse to Papa. The dock wasn’t far away, but he mentioned that his horse would make the trip in short order so as not to cause Elizabeth too much discomfort. The e
nsign offered to accompany Papa as far as Galveston because he needed to wire his superiors back in New Orleans on the progress that had been made in preparation for the delivery of the temporary lighthouse.

  Papa had mentioned on several occasions how grateful he was to have the young man staying with them. He’d said it was a comfort knowing he would be there should anything happen in his absence.

  The whole family was touched by how understanding Miller was about Elizabeth. Even though no one said exactly what was wrong with her, he seemed to comprehend the situation. He assured Papa he would watch after the family in his absence.

  Mama didn’t utter a word as she loaded some of the rations into a basket for the trip.

  “Papa said he would try to buy some fresh fruit for Elizabeth when they get to Galveston.”

  Mama didn’t answer.

  “You should have seen June and Jeremiah carrying quilts and pillows out to the cart for Elizabeth to lie on. Those pillows are bigger than they are.” She thought surely that would get a reaction from Mama, but she was wrong. “Come on, Mama, let’s get this basket outside.” Margaret picked up the container of food, linked elbows with Mama, and pulled her out of the kitchen.

  Ensign Miller held June and Jeremiah in his arms while they petted his horse on the nose.

  Papa loaded Elizabeth’s bags into the small cart.

  Margaret placed the food basket on top of the other things.

  Papa finished loading and then checked the wheels on the cart. “Keep an eye on this wheel when you come back this way. Looks as if there’s a loose peg.”

  Miller put the little ones down and took a look at the wheel. “I will, but don’t you worry about it. I’ll get you and your daughter to Galveston and on a ferry to the mainland. I suppose you’ll be able to catch a stagecoach from there; I don’t really know. But you have plenty of money to help you along the way.”

  Papa nodded at him and turned to Margaret and Mama. “Caroline, I’ve asked Ensign Miller to help out with some of the heavier chores while I’m gone. Margaret, you know what needs done to keep the place going and you can answer any questions Miller might have.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “June…Jeremiah, do what your mama and Margaret tell you to do, ya hear?”

  June put her head down as if he’d given her an impossible task. “Yes, sir,” she answered.

  “Is she ready, Margaret?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Papa went into the house. The screen door slammed shut behind him.

  Jeremiah looked at Mama with longing in his eyes. “I go Papa?”

  “No, no, Jeremiah. You can’t go with Papa. He’s taking Elizabeth, not you,” June answered.

  Mama turned her head away and sobbed silently into a handkerchief. No matter how innocent the words were meant, they worked to pluck out Mama’s heart.

  “June, why don’t you go and open the door for Papa,” Margaret said.

  June pulled it open just in time for Papa to come through with Elizabeth’s thin frame cradled in his arms. Papa laid her in the cart, her head on a pillow. Mama covered her with a quilt and tucked it in around her.

  “Mr. Logan, why don’t you ride, and I’ll walk beside the cart.”

  “No…I want her to be able to see me. I’ll walk.”

  Miller didn’t argue with Papa. He hoisted onto the saddle and patted his horse’s neck while the family said their goodbyes.

  Papa gestured for them all. “Everyone gather around the wagon. I’d like to say a prayer before we leave. Let’s hold hands. Caroline, pick up Elizabeth’s hand.” He prayed for God to give them safety on the road. He prayed for Mama, Margaret, June, and Jeremiah’s safety while he was gone. He spent the most time praying that Elizabeth would be healed. By the time he was finished, they all cried. Tears even rolled down Elizabeth’s cheeks.

  Margaret lifted Jeremiah over the edge of the cart to say his short goodbye.

  Mama held June up to say her long-winded farewell.

  Margaret leaned over and kissed Elizabeth on the forehead. “Get well, sister. I love you.” She wiped the tears from her face with her apron.

  Papa looked at Caroline. “I expect to return before the new lighthouse arrives, but if not, Ensign Miller will be here to carry on with the erection plans without me.”

  Mama’s tears spoke for her.

  Papa lifted her chin and kissed her.

  Margaret’s heart ached watching the love flow between her parents. She wished more than ever that Thomas was there to help them all get through this, but it wasn’t to be.

  Papa hugged Margaret, June, and Jeremiah and turned to Miller on his horse. “You ready, Ensign?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Miller flipped the reins up and clicked his tongue. The horse walked down the property line toward the port.

  Mama picked up Jeremiah and pulled June close to her side. They waved and hollered goodbye. Mama started sucking in short breaths of air. She set down Jeremiah, put her hand over her mouth, and ran inside the house.

  Margaret felt lonelier than the days following Thomas’s departure. There was no one to comfort her now…not even Mama, who was so heartbroken she couldn’t cope for now.

  “I guess it’s just us now.” She looked down at June.

  “Let’s go collect some oysters for supper.”

  “That sounds like a grand idea. Let’s go find the pail.”

  Margaret did her best to smile, but inside she felt as empty as the deep, dark abyss she saw when she looked into Elizabeth’s eyes. Everything was on her shoulders now: the upkeep of the house, her little sister and brother…she even had to watch over Mama. How she longed for Thomas to return. She needed him now more than ever to help her bear this heavy burden. Oh, Thomas, where could you be? Are you safe and well…alive?

  30

  Thomas pulled a grimy neckerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. The Texas heat was already hotter than any of the places he’d passed through on his long journey back from New York. His thoughts turned to Margaret and her family. How were the Logans faring after the war? Was Margaret still waiting for him? Had she found another love? He prayed every day she hadn’t—that she still longed after him as he did for her.

  Southern hospitality had become all but nonexistent in the wake of reconstruction and the unwanted influx of Union troops and carpetbaggers. Thomas was fortunate to have his Irish accent and not a northern one. It was a great advantage in helping him land a job.

  The long journey landed him in Brenham, Texas, where he found work as a ranch hand. The hard labor and fair wage was welcomed after having worked for practically nothing up north prior to the war. His employer was a good man with Christian values and understood when Thomas told him he would eventually return to south Texas to be with the love of his life.

  The sturdy horse pulling the flatbed wagon slowed as Thomas pulled back on the reins. He made the weekly trip into town every Thursday to pick up feed. A man waited on the loading dock for his arrival.

  “Good morning, Thomas.”

  Thomas tipped his head. “Morning, Clayton.” He set the reins aside and climbed out of the wagon. “I see ye already have Mr. Giddings’s order ready to load.”

  Clayton pulled on his gloves. “Well, Thomas, you’re about as dependable as they come.” He hefted one of the bags of feed over his shoulder. “No sense waiting around until you get here.”

  “That’s mighty kind of ye, Clayton. Yer a good man.” Thomas pushed back his cowboy hat and scratched his head. “Say, Clayton, would ye mind too much if I were to leave the wagon here while I go make my payment and get a cup of coffee?”

  “Naw, you go on ahead. I got this.”

  “Thank ye kindly, sir.”

  Thomas crossed the street to Abbi’s Diner. His heavy boots kicked up a cloud of dust on the dry road. The bell on the diner door jangled when he opened it. He walked up to the counter and took a seat.

  “What’ll you have, sir?”

  Thomas
smiled at the elderly woman. “I’ve told ye at least a dozen times ye don’t have to call me sir. You can call me Thomas, Abbi.”

  Abbi returned his smile. “Yes, but if I keep doing it, you’ll have to correct me and that’s about the only way I get to hear that pretty Irish accent of yours.” She put her hands on wide hips and chuckled.

  “Oh, Abbi, what shall I do with ye? I’ll have a cup of coffee, if ye don’t mind.”

  “Coming right up…sir!” The plump little woman turned to get the coffee.

  A newspaper, probably left behind from one of Abbi’s breakfast customers, sat on the counter. He looked around to see if anyone was returning for it before picking it up. As he was about to open the paper, a man sitting at the end of the counter caught his attention. He froze in his seat. He blinked a couple times, and then rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. No, his eyes weren’t playing tricks. Thomas got up and put his hand on the man’s shoulder.

  Mr. Logan dropped his fork into a pool of yellow egg yolks. “Great day in the morning, Thomas Murphy…what on earth are you doing here?”

  “Mr. Logan, I can’t believe my own eyes.” Thomas surrounded him in a great bear hug and firmly patted his back. “What are ye doing way out here?”

  “I asked you first, son. What brings you to Brenham, Texas?” Mr. Logan shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m really seeing you. Did you make it up to New York? How are your father and brothers doing? Come here, son.” Again they shook hands and hugged each other.

  “Yes, I did make it to New York. I’ve so much to tell ye. I wound up here and found that I was in need of a bit more money. I was offered a job at the Giddings Ranch just east of town and I took it.”

  Abbi stood across the counter from the two men, coffee in hand. “Am I to assume you‘ll be taking your coffee down here now?” The plump little woman laughed out of habit.

  “Oh yes, Abbi, this is Mr. Logan, Margaret’s papa.”