Northern Light by Annette O'Hare Read Free Book Online Page B

found out I was being recommissioned out here by the Confederate States Lighthouse Bureau.
    “Then we arrived to find that the light had been dismantled for its iron. You see…New Orleans had always been her home, and she loved it dearly. She was devastated when we learned it had fallen to the enemy.” Mr. Logan leaned forward in the chair. “You probably don’t know it, but back in Louisiana she was engaged to be married. Her fiancé was killed about a month before her wedding day. They had to postpone the date at least a dozen times, but their day never came.”
    The man’s words pierced Thomas’s heart. It all made sense now. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Mr. Logan. The poor lass...”
    Jebediah lowered his pipe, the tobacco smoked to ashes. “Well, I suppose I’d better get back to work.”
    Thomas extended his hand and Mr. Logan accepted it. They didn’t shake, but instead held tight and nodded to each other.
    Jebediah pushed on the bedroom door, and it bumped into something. He looked around to see what it hit. “Liz, what are you doing…listening through the door?”
    The girl scowled at her father. “I wasn’t listening, Papa! I was looking for you and heard your voice.”
    “Git yourself in the other room!” The door slammed behind him.
    Thomas couldn’t imagine what the exchange between Elizabeth and her father was all about. He let his mind drift. His thoughts went straight away to Margaret. He now understood why the young woman hated him so. He represented everything bad in her life. “O Lord, I pray Ye’d take away the poor lass’s pain. I beg Yer forgiveness for my presence causing hurt to her even more. Please heal her brokenness, Father. In Yer Son’s name, I pray.”
    Thomas grieved for Margaret’s pain, knowing all too well how it felt to lose someone close. He was alone and isolated from his family so very far away. Thoughts of his mother and sister caused a wave of sorrow to wash over him. Was there nothing I could have done to save them, Lord? Oh, Father, I don’t deserve the kindness I’ve been shown here. I couldn’t save my mam and dear little Elizabeth…Lord, please show me what I can do to help heal Margaret’s heart.

7
    The house shook and windows rattled.
    Margaret flew through the kitchen door. “Mama, do you have any idea where Elizabeth is? Papa asked us to do some work in the garden, and I can’t find her anywhere.”
    “I have no idea where she is, Margaret. Last I saw, she was in your bedroom at the writing desk, but that was hours ago.” She raised the knife to continue peeling the potatoes.
    June and Jeremiah ran through the door with outstretched arms and tearful faces.
    Mama lifted the knife high in the air when the two youngest children grabbed her around the legs.
    The cannons blasting away in the Gulf would give panic to the strongest of constitutions.
    Mama dropped both the knife and potato into the dry sink and wrapped her arms around her two little ones. She inched toward the kitchen table and sat down to pull the children onto her lap. “All right now, don’t fret. You’re all in one piece, aren’t you?” She playfully poked around on their sides. Laughter broke through their sobs. “You both feel fine to me.”
    June slid off Mama’s lap. Indignant hands clamped onto tiny hips. “Don’t tickle us, Mama. Me and Jer’miah is scared to death.” June was probably ten percent serious and ninety percent playacting. It was most likely a ploy to shirk her assignment of watching baby Jeremiah while dinner was prepared.
    Jeremiah continued to cry, and Margaret knew he wasn’t pretending.
    Mama pressed his head against her bosom and rocked back and forth, shushing him. “I understand you’re scared, and I know it sounds frightening, but those old ships out there in the Gulf aren’t firing at us. They’re shooting at each other. Now tell me, has our house ever been hit by one of those cannon balls?”
    “Don’t tease me, Mama. You know