Let There Be Light (26 page)

BOOK: Let There Be Light
11.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

When Nate moved through the back door and stepped into the kitchen, what he saw took his breath. The cupboard doors were open, and every plate, cup, saucer, and bowl lay on the floor in shattered pieces. The table was overturned, as were the chairs. The glass chimneys of the lamps also lay shattered on the floor.

“Oh no!” Hobbling on the crutches, he hurried toward the front of the house. There were shattered flower vases on the floor in the hall and the flowers lay on the floor, crushed by the feet of the intruder.

In every room, paintings had been taken from the walls and broken, and figurines lay on the floor, smashed. The mirrors were cracked, and in the bedroom, the blankets were on the floor and the sheets and pillowcases were torn to shreds.

His voice quivered as he said, “Why would anyone do a horrible thing like this? Who—”

He immediately thought of Jenny Linden, remembering the scene on the street in front of Baldwin’s Clothing Store and recalling the things Millie had told him about Jenny’s conduct when she found her in her mother’s room at the hospital.

“It had to have been Jenny.” He hobbled back through the house, surveying the damage once again. “This is terrible. Millie has worked so hard to make this place cozy and comfortable. She doesn’t deserve this. And neither do I.”

He balanced himself on the crutches and turned one of the chairs upright. Easing wearily onto the chair, Nate let his eyes wander over the room and the scattered pieces of glass and china on the floor. Letting his mind go back to the days prior to the War, he tried to recall what he possibly could have said or intimated to cause Jenny to arrive at the conclusion that he was in love with her and wanted to marry her.
We were friends. We dated several times, but
there was nothing serious between us
.

Nate considered going to the police and telling them he was sure Jenny Linden had done this, but there would be no way to prove it. Instead he would go to the general store and ask to talk to her privately. Maybe another try would convince Jenny that she had no right to think he was coming home from the War with plans to marry her.

After doing what he could to clean up the mess in each room, Nate went to the barn, harnessed the gelding, hitched him to the buggy, and drove away, sick at heart. He dreaded the moment when he would pick Millie up at the hospital that night and have to tell her of the devastation in the house.

At the store, Jenny gave no indication to the Hendersons that anything was amiss. She carried on with her work as usual.

Emma was working beside her at the counter, but along with Zack she knew from the customer grapevine about the altercation the day before between Jenny and the Conrads in front of Baldwin’s Clothing Store. They had learned it while Jenny was gone at noontime.

Emma knew more trouble was brewing when she looked up and saw Nate enter the store. His face was as cloudy as the spring storm that was gathering outside.

Jenny first heard the crutches thumping on the floor, then raised her eyes and looked past the customer in front of her. The look on Nate’s face told her he had found the wreckage she had left in his house. Apparently he was there to accuse her.
Well, he can’t prove a thing
.

Jenny’s customer walked away. Nate said calmly, “Jenny, could you spare a moment to talk to me privately?”

Before Jenny could reply, Emma spoke up. “Go ahead, Jenny. I’ll handle the counter. If it gets stacked up, I’ll holler for Zack.”

“Let’s go out to the alley. We can talk there,” Jenny said.

When they were outside the store and in the privacy of the alley, Nate said in a low voice, “I know it was you who entered our house and made havoc because of your anger toward me.”

Jenny frowned and looked shocked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. Don’t lie to me. I saw you in action in front of Baldwin’s, and Millie told me what you did at the hospital. Now, Jenny, there was no call to do what you did in our house. I’ve come here to ask you to explain to me what I ever said or did to make you think I was in love with you and wanted to marry you.”

Jenny’s temper flared inside her. She slammed the heels of both hands against his chest with all her might. The unexpected impact knocked him off balance. He stumbled backward and fell on his back.

Jenny stood over him, her features livid. “I never want to see you again, Nate Conrad! If you ever come around me again, I’ll have you arrested for harassment!”

With that, Jenny went back into the store and slammed the door.

Slowly and with great difficulty, Nate brought his body to a sitting position. He ground his teeth, so insufferable was the pain in his lower back. His entire frame was trembling.

He looked up and down the alley to see if there was anyone to help him. His eyes encountered only a vacant view. “I … I can’t sit here like this. It’s going to start raining any minute.”

Even the smallest movement shot pain through his back, but with determination to get up, he grasped both crutches, and inch by inch, got his feet under him. With herculean effort, he pushed himself upright and got the crutches under his arms.

Sweat beaded on his brow and his body continued to tremble. The alley began to spin before his eyes. A black vortex was trying to swallow him when suddenly he felt strong arms seize him, and he leaned heavily into the welcome support. His foggy head began to clear, and quickly, the vortex was gone. He focused on his rescuer, who was a tall, burly, blunt-featured man with dark curly hair.

“You all right, mister?” came the man’s deep voice.

Nate drew a shuddering breath. “I am now, thanks to you.”

“What happened?”

“I … uh … was just walking down the alley, here … and I lost my balance. Got shot up in the War, and I’m still trying to learn to walk
on these pesky crutches. My buggy is parked out on Main Street. Would you mind helping me get out there?”

“Be glad to. My wagon’s right back there at the end of the alley. How about I go get it? I’ll put you in the wagon and drive you out to your buggy.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“You just lean up against the wall and hang on,” said Nate’s new friend. “I’ll be right back.”

With that, the big man was gone.

Nate leaned against the wall and shook his head.
Jenny really hates me. I’ve got to be careful and protect Millie from her
.

The clatter of a wagon was heard as tiny raindrops began to fall. He looked to the end of the alley and saw the man driving toward him. He hopped out. “It’s starting to rain, mister. How about I tie your horse and buggy on the back of the wagon and take you all the way home? I’ve got a tarp we can put over our heads.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“It may be tough getting you up on the seat. Just rest your weight on me and let me do the work.”

With a little time and a great deal of effort, Nate was placed on the seat. His friend hopped up beside him and drove out to the street. Nate pointed out his horse and buggy, and soon they were headed for the Conrad house with the gelding’s reins tied to the back of the wagon.

The ride was short, but with every bounce, a groan escaped Nate’s tight lips. The rain was still soft and light. When they pulled up in front of the house, Nate thought that the little white frame home never looked so good.

When the horse and buggy had been put away, the big man helped Nate from the wagon and assisted him up onto the back porch.

Gasping between words, Nate said, “How … can … I … ever … thank … you?”

“No need, friend. Just glad I came along when I did. Anything more I can do for you?”

Nate shook his head. “No, thank … you. I can … get myself in the house. But I need to know your name.”

“Sure. James Fair. And you are?”

“Nate Conrad.”

“Have you got a missus to tend to you?”

“Yes. In fact, my wife is a nurse. I’ll be fine. Thank you, Mr. Fair. Maybe we’ll meet again sometime.”

“You betcha, pal. Well, I better get going. I think we’re about to get a real downpour.” With that, he climbed into the wagon and drove away.

Nate moved with great care as he entered the kitchen. He went to the washroom and opened the medicine cabinet. He was glad Jenny hadn’t touched it. He took out his bottle of laudanum, went to the cupboard, and mixed it with a cool cup of water.

He swallowed the mixture, then limped on his crutches to the bedroom and laid his pain-wracked body on the bare mattress.

Before sleep claimed him, he was vaguely aware of the rain beating violently on the roof of the house and against the windows.
Made it just in time
.

16

O
N
S
ATURDAY
M
ORNING
, A
PRIL
15, the news spread all over Harrisburg that President Abraham Lincoln had been shot the night before at Ford’s Theatre in Washington, D.C., by the famous stage actor, John Wilkes Booth. The president was reported to be in critical condition, and the law was on the trail of Booth. The people of Harrisburg were terribly upset.

As Jenny Linden headed home after work that evening, she dreaded telling her mother that President Lincoln had been shot, but Myrna had a right to know and would find out eventually, anyway. It was best to go ahead and tell her.

Myrna took it hard, but clung to the hope that the doctors who were attending the president would be able to save his life.

The next day, John and Dorothy Bowden arrived home from church and knocked on the Linden door. They told Jenny that word had come last night from Washington to the owners of the
Harrisburg Journal
that President Lincoln had died Saturday morning.

Myrna wept for some time upon hearing the awful news, but when Jenny reminded her that Papa would be coming home, she held tight to that anticipated event, which eased her grief over the death of President Lincoln.

On Tuesday, April 19, the
Harrisburg Journal
carried the story of
Vice President Andrew Johnson being sworn in as president at the Capitol Building in Washington on Monday. The
Journal
also reported that federal authorities now knew that John Wilkes Booth had fled south into Maryland and were hot on his trail.

On Thursday, April 27, newspapers across the northern states reported that the assassin’s trail had led the authorities into Virginia, and John Wilkes Booth had been shot and killed by Union soldiers the night before in a barn near Bowling Green, Virginia, where he had been hiding.

On Saturday, April 29, Jenny was busy at the counter in the general store when she saw John Bowden come in. John waited until Jenny’s customer walked away, then stepped up and smiled. “I was driving past the railroad station, so I stopped and went in to see if there was any word about when the trains carrying the military men of Harrisburg and the surrounding area might be arriving.”

Jenny’s eyes lit up. “Yes?”

“There are posters announcing that during the first two weeks of May, a number of trains will be coming. They explain that it will depend on where the men were in the South when the War ended, as to when they will arrive. The arrival dates of the trains will be posted in the station two days in advance.”

“Oh, John, thank you for doing that. I was going to go to the depot on my way home after work and see if there was any information.”

“I figured you would, so I thought I’d save you the trip. Anyway, honey, your papa’s going to be home sometime in the next couple of weeks.”

Tears shone in Jenny’s eyes. “Yes! And what a wonderful day it will be when he does!”

When she went home for lunch and told her mother John’s news, Myrna brightened up quickly. Even though Myrna had taken the president’s death hard, this news put a brightness on her face, and she was still talking about William’s soon return as Jenny left the house to go back to work.

That evening after supper, Myrna did what she could to help her daughter decorate the house with the cloth flowers Jenny had fashioned. The flowers were adorned with bright-colored ribbons
that added to the beauty of the flowers and made each room look festive.

Myrna followed Jenny into each room and watched her pin up the signs she had made, welcoming Captain William Linden home.

When all the decorations and signs were in place, Myrna wrapped her arms around Jenny. “Oh, honey, finally your papa is coming home! Finally, we can get our lives back to normal, and we’ll be so happy!”

Jenny pushed the pain and disappointment over Nate aside and hugged her mother tightly. “Yes, Mama. We’re going to be so happy. Papa is coming home!”

On Monday, May 1, Jenny made her own trip to the railroad station before going home after work and found a sign that said the first military train would arrive at approximately 2:00 P.M. on Wednesday, May 3. The next one would come in at about the same time on Friday, May 5. Further notices would be posted shortly.

With this report, Myrna showed even greater improvement. The next day, Jenny informed the Hendersons of what the sign in the depot said, and they told her she could have time off each day the trains came in, so she could be there to meet her father. She thanked them both with a hug, and they spoke their joy that Captain William Linden would soon be home.

On that same day, Dr. Adam Griffin made his regular house call on Myrna and left a note for Jenny, saying he was pleased with the progress her mother had made since she first learned that the War was over three weeks ago, and that he was sure once Captain Linden was actually home, Myrna would improve even quicker. One day in the not-too-distant future, she would be completely out of her state of depression.

Jenny was elated when she read the note and celebrated by taking her mother for a walk in the nearby park, where they watched the sun go down together while talking of William’s soon return.

The next day at 2:00 P.M. Jenny was at the railroad station, along with hundreds of other excited people. There were two coaches behind the engine and coal car, and eagerly, she ran her gaze
between the coaches, watching the front and rear platforms for her father to appear.

BOOK: Let There Be Light
11.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Learning to Ride by Erin Knightley
Harnessing Peacocks by Mary Wesley
Instant Gratification by Jill Shalvis
Split Second by Sophie McKenzie
Invisible Lives by Anjali Banerjee
Casanova's Women by Judith Summers