“Is that so?” Pap ran his hand through a thinning shock of red hair. “Is Texas really as big as they say it is?”
“Believe me…I had to make my way across most of it, and let me tell ye, it’s big, all right.” He took a coffee mug from the kitchen counter. The smell of coffee drew him to the warm pot sitting on the stove. “Pap, I need to talk to ye about a couple things.”
“Pour me a cup while yer up, son.”
Thomas poured his father a cup of coffee.
“So what’s on yer mind, boy?”
“Well, ye already know I was shot and fell off the boat, but what ye don’t know is that if it weren’t for a family by the name of Logan, I wouldn’t be here to tell ye about it.”
“Is that right? If ye would tell me where they live, I’d be most willing to send them my thanks.”
“Yes, of course, but there’s more.” He scratched his ear. “Pap, the Logans live on a little strip of land called the Bolivar Peninsula, way down on the coast of Texas. Mr. Logan is a trained lighthouse keeper, but the light was torn down at the beginning of the war. Mr. and Mrs. Logan have four children. The oldest of the bunch is named Margaret. And…and…I’ve fallen in love with her, Pap.” There, he had said it.
Pap looked off into the distance and slowly nodded his head.
“I intend to earn some money and buy her a ring. I’m going to ask her to marry me, Pap.”
Pap rubbed his jaw. “Well, if ye love her, I suppose that’s what ye have to do then.”
Thomas stood to hug his father.
The door swung open.
Michael looked at Thomas and his jaw dropped. He ran inside and put his arms around Thomas so tight he could barely breathe. “I can’t believe my eyes. You’re really here in the flesh. It’s so good to see ye, brother.”
When Michael released his firm grip, Thomas hugged him and patted him on the back. Thomas let go and took a long, thorough look at his younger brother. “For heaven’s sake, when did this happen?”
“What is that, brother?”
“When did my little brother grow into a man?”
Michael chuckled. “Oh, go on now.”
“And look at this hairy chin on ye.” Thomas rubbed his younger brother’s scraggly beard.
“All right, you two have a seat. Thomas just arrived and I have a whole passel of questions.”
Through Thomas’s stories, Pap and Michael learned much about the Logan family. They laughed with gusto at his telling of June and Jeremiah’s antics. They were saddened to hear the not-so-happy tale of Elizabeth’s betrayal. Thomas didn’t know how else to explain it other than to say the poor girl had a problem with her mind. But the one they heard the most about was his beautiful Margaret and how he pined after her and longed to marry her.
Pap made fresh coffee and set out a dish of rolls.
Thomas cut up some of the fine meats Mr. Gorski sent with him. Sitting around the table with Pap and Michael warmed Thomas’s heart. He didn’t allow himself to dwell on the thought that the three of them were more than likely all that remained of the Murphy family. Thomas rubbed his fingers along the smooth grain of the bare wooden table while answering an abundance of questions from Pap and Michael. Then it was his turn to ask the questions. “So tell me, Michael, how is it that you and Pap came to live in Boston?”
“Go on, Michael, tell him.” Pap looked proud as a peacock, gesturing to his youngest son.
“Oh, stop it now, Pap.” He turned to Thomas. “Ye know I was working at DeCamp Hospital in New York.” Michael looked away for a moment. When he turned back, the look on his face revealed his mind had visited a very dark place. “That was a mighty bloody place, to be sure. Anyway, I learned so much from the doctors I worked with there that one of them, Dr. William Mills, thought it would be to my benefit if I could train with the professional surgeons here at Massachusetts General. So he made the arrangements.” He stopped a brief moment and laughed. “But to my surprise, I found that I had much to teach the surgeons here of what I’d learned working on the injured coming from the front lines.”
“You always were the smart one of the bunch.”
“So when are you and this woman of yours going to get married?”
Thomas smiled at how his brother referred to Margaret. “I promised her I’d come back as soon as I looked in on my family.”
“Aw, ye don’t have to rush off now, do ye?” Michael reached over and squeezed Thomas’s shoulder.
“No, no, I don’t plan to leave right away.” Thomas reached for his coffee mug. Now that he knew his family’s fate, he wanted to leave as soon as possible, but he knew he couldn’t do that to his pap. “Maybe the two of you can show me around this big old town.”
The three men talked deep into the night. The night turned to day and the days turned to weeks.
One day, Thomas’s heart told him it was time to leave.
His father and brother hated to see him go, but they understood him wanting to return to Texas and the woman he loved and intended to marry. They made him promise he would return someday soon with his bride. With his back pay from the Navy in hand, he set out for Texas.
26
April 16, 1865, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas
It was by no means reminiscent of the Easter feasts Margaret remembered from the past before the war broke out. But considering all they’d been through, especially in the past seven months since Thomas came into her life, she was thankful to have the hearty fish stew. There were many who were much less fortunate than the Logan family, so she faithfully prayed for them when she lifted daily prayers for Thomas’s safe return.
Christmas had passed without the levity the season usually brought. They continued lighting the Advent candles in remembrance of Jesus…and in honor of Thomas.
Oh, how Margaret missed the feel of his strong arms around her waist as he whispered the words
I love you
in her ear. New Year’s had come and gone without the brush of a midnight kiss from the one she loved. Then came the long months of icy, cold wind and rain that gripped the peninsula.
The little ones had been cooped up in the house so long they bolted at the first sign of spring. April’s mild weather summoned forth an overabundance of sweet-smelling wildflowers that beckoned the two youngest Logans from the confines of the house. They wasted no time in picking as many of the native beauties as they could. The house took on a whole different look with Mama’s water glasses filled with colorful flowers in every room.
Margaret watched her little brother and sister through the kitchen window as they played in the yard. The kitchen door flew open and banged against the wall. June and Jeremiah bounded inside. “Margaret, Margaret, look what me and Jer’miah made for you.”
“Whoa, slow down now.”
June smiled and batted her eyes as she presented Margaret with a whimsical crown they had laced together out of Indian blanket flowers.
“Aw, it’s so beautiful.” She took the braided flower wreath from June’s hands. “Say…would you two mind if I took the flowers in to Elizabeth with her dinner?”
“Well, we made it for you.” She turned to her little brother. “What do you think, Jer’miah? Should we let Margaret give the flowers to Elizabeth?”
The little boy looked up at his sisters. His sun-kissed cheeks glowed when he smiled at them. He nodded up and down without saying a word.
“Oh, thank you both so much. These beautiful flowers are sure to make Elizabeth perk right up. Don’t you think?”
“I sure hope so. Papa said that girl’s as low as a snake’s belly,” June pronounced.
“All right now, you two, better get back outside before Mama finds some chores for you to do.”
June’s eyes doubled in size. She grabbed Jeremiah by the hand and pulled him out the kitchen door. “See ya later,” she hollered before they disappeared from Margaret’s sight.
Margaret wanted to cry, realizing that even the little ones knew Elizabeth was in a very bad way. She placed the flowers around the small bowl of fish stew she had set out on a tray, thinking the beautiful yellow and orange colors might be just the thing to bring a little cheer to Elizabeth’s heart. She sat at the kitchen table waiting for the kettle to boil for tea. It was the perfect opportunity to talk to God.
“Father God, I thank You for giving Your Son to die for us and for His glorious resurrection. Lord, please forgive me for my bitterness toward You after Thomas left. I know You don’t promise us happiness in this world and to think You blessed me with having the chance to have loved and to have been loved by two wonderful, godly men—I never deserved that, Father. It’s taken me a while, but I realize now that You were always in control. And this whole thing with Thomas probably came about so that Elizabeth’s sickness could be revealed to us. Father, please forgive me for not trusting You fully. I’m not bitter anymore, and I’m ready to cast all my cares on You, because You’re the only One who knows what’s best for me…and Thomas. But, Lord, if it be in Your will, please let him come back to me.” The teakettle whistle began to blow. She quickly ended their talk. “In Jesus’s name, amen.” Margaret picked up the tray of food and took it to the bedroom.
Elizabeth was asleep. Of late she slept more hours than she was awake.
“Happy Easter Sunday, Elizabeth. Jesus is risen.” Margaret smiled because she didn’t want anything to cause Elizabeth to feel any more sadness. It wasn’t easy being cheerful when her heart was heavy for both Elizabeth and Thomas.
The room they shared had once smelled of rose water and talcum powder, but now smelled of urine and body odor. No matter how many times Mama cleaned, the smell wouldn’t go away. The mattress was ruined.
Margaret and June moved into the front bedroom where Thomas had stayed. It was the only thing they could do to get away from the foul smell and woeful sounds their sister made all hours of the night.
Elizabeth stirred but didn’t get up.
Margaret set the tray on the bureau and went to her bedside. “Come on, Elizabeth, it’s time to wake up and have some food. You need to keep up your strength.”
Elizabeth rolled over onto her back. She’d been crying. The once-chubby girl had wasted away to nothing.
Margaret physically lifted her sister to a sitting position in the bed.
Elizabeth trembled.
Margaret took a shawl from the bottom bureau drawer and draped it around her shoulders. “There, that should keep you nice and warm. Now stay right there while I get your food.” She placed the tray over Elizabeth’s lap, but her sister made no move to feed herself. Instead, she stared at Margaret with her sorrowful eyes.
“Come on now, eat up,” Margaret said.
“How can you be so kind to me when I did everything I could think of to ruin your life and your life with Thomas?” Elizabeth’s voice cracked as she spoke through dry and chapped lips.
“I don’t know. I probably couldn’t have if it weren’t for the love of Jesus. I was so angry and hurt, but I talked to God about it. And finally, those feelings went away. But it took a while.” She scooped up some broth and held it to Elizabeth’s mouth.
“You know, Elizabeth, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. And when you think about the Negro people and how much forgiveness they will have to muster up if they ever gain their freedom from slavery, then me forgiving you, my own flesh and blood, doesn’t seem like that big a deal really.”
Elizabeth grabbed Margaret’s arm and pulled her close. She seemed to be crying but no tears flowed. “Can you please find it in your heart to forgive me, Margaret? I know what I did was wrong. I’m sorry. But…but.” The words left her.
Margaret stroked some hair away from Elizabeth’s face. “I accept your apology, but I already forgave you a long time ago. I couldn’t go on like that.” She put her hand on Elizabeth’s frail arm. “You’re my sister, and I love you.” She picked up the teacup and gave Elizabeth a drink. “Besides, I tried my best to stay mad at you, but I just couldn’t do it.” Margaret smiled at her, but Elizabeth didn’t smile back.
“I need to tell you something, Margaret.”
“Wh-what is it?”
“There’s something wrong with me.” Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t understand it, but when I close my eyes, I see the most horrible images in my mind. I feel so hopeless. It’s like…it’s like I’ve wandered into an old, dark, abandoned house, and I can’t find my way out. And sometimes I don’t even have the will to go on living anymore, and I think about ways to…to…” She fell silent.
Margaret felt her stomach tighten. “Oh, you don’t mean that, Elizabeth. You have your whole life ahead of you. Things will get better, I promise. When the war is over, things will go back to the way they were. We can start over. Everything will be all right. You just wait and see.”
Elizabeth lifted the tray of food from her lap. With hands that shook, she handed it back to Margaret. Warm soup and tea spilled everywhere, even on the bedclothes.
“Elizabeth, be careful.”
Elizabeth rolled over, turned her back to Margaret, and pulled the quilt over her head.
Margaret rose from the bed with the tray. She left the room and shut the door with her foot. Leaning against the door, her body shook as she fought back tears.
Oh, Father God, it’s Easter Sunday and Christians all over the world are celebrating Your Son’s glorious resurrection.
Tears flowed down her cheeks and neck.
But not even the risen Savior can bring happiness to the heart of our poor Elizabeth.
27
Margaret placed Elizabeth’s food tray, toppled soup and all, on the kitchen counter and went outside.
Mama and Papa sat on the front porch in rocking chairs. They seemed to enjoy the beauty that April had ushered in to the peninsula. Papa puffed on his pipe and Mama braided colorful strips of old rags, sheets, and clothing together for the rug she was making.
June and Jeremiah were all smiles, chasing a pair of baby ducks around the yard.
Necie brought the little birds by earlier that morning. “They gonna make a fine roast,-duck dinner someday. If you ever get them away from those chil’ren, that is!” She threw back her head and gave a hearty laugh. Necie had been coming by to check on Elizabeth since Elizabeth had stopped going over to the Langley place. Sometimes Necie sat with Elizabeth, not saying a word, just patting her back and singing in a soft voice.