TARA SAT IN A STRAIGHT-BACK upholstered chair, across the desk from Abraham Lincoln. She was tempted to draw out a hat pin and prick herself; it was still difficult to believe that she was here, and he was here, and that they were facing each other, in the flesh.
But they were. The night when they had finally bested Gator, they had come to the White House. She discovered that her family had, indeed, been involved in the “war beneath the war,” and that they were all acquainted. Finn had made the introductions, and Abraham Lincoln had taken her hands, met her eyes and said, “We’ve met, I believe, many a time, in a dream.”
She hadn’t been well. She’d needed rest. And they had all seen to it that she had gotten it, and it had been wonderful. Her sister—her sister—had assured her that Richard and Captain Tremblay and Dr. MacKay had all been found and were safely recovering from the minor wounds they had received, and she would have her audience with the president the next day.
She had been so well guarded, and so well loved!
And Finn had asked to marry her.
He wasn’t around in the morning, though. It was Alexandra, Cody’s wife, who brought her to her appointment, and then left her. And so, at last, she faced the real Abraham Lincoln, and they sat, a pot of tea between them. It was so good to see him, and see him alive and well, that she fought back tears.
“First, of course, I must thank you,” he said. “I’ve heard you were highly instrumental in saving many lives. I’ll not say Union lives—I pray daily that, soon, our great nation will begin the healing process, and those lives you saved, on the ship and in Key West, will be nothing lesser or greater than American lives.”
“I see the world as you do, sir,” she told him. “And yes, Mr. President, that’s why your life is so important, and why, I believe, I have haunted your dreams. Even with the war dying down, sir, and with the latest deadly effort stopped, you must know that you still have enemies. God knows, men are good, North and South, and men are fanatics, North and South.”
“Of course,” he said. He rose, walked to the window and looked out on the city of Washington, beautiful as spring now intruded fully upon the winter. “We are born, we love, we see the world around us, and we find our place within it. We all know laughter and happiness, and tragedy. We are the same, really.”
He turned and smiled at her. “I have given my second inaugural address, you know. And I believe those who watched and listened are as eager as I to see the healing begin.”
“There will be those who cannot accept defeat,” she told him.
He looked back at her. His face was grave. “I had the dream…” he said.
She nodded. “I know,” she said softly. “You saw yourself walking through the rooms, and you heard the people sobbing. You saw the catafalque, and you wanted to know who had died, and they told you the president.”
He walked back to the desk, but he didn’t take his chair. He sat on the edge of the desk, close to her, and said quietly, “No one man can create a lasting peace. What must be understood is this—slavery cannot be. In my heart, I know that it’s an abomination against God. But there will be a long road ahead to educate those who were slaves, and it will be a far longer road ahead for men ever to look upon one another as equals. States must still retain certain rights, because we are a nation of different areas, with different liabilities and different wonders. And despite the pain and the bloodshed and bitterness that have been, we must learn to forget. That can’t be just one man, my dear. That is a mindset that we must create, and it must build and grow. Wounds take time to heal, and this country has been wounded to the core. It will take years for the lesions to heal. And yet, it’s the people who must band together, like the blood in a man’s body, the flesh upon him. Every man and woman is part of the great body. I know that you will go on, as others will go on. And your words and your actions will help that healing. That’s what you must understand. I have known you in my mind, and I have seen you in my dreams. You’ve been like a guardian angel. But no matter what the future might bring, you must remember that you, and those like you, will be the heart and soul of the new nation.”
“But, sir, you don’t understand, truly you don’t, just how important you are,” Tara said.
He smiled. “I am important only if the words I have said can live on in the hearts of others. No man is greater than the nation. Please, remember that. Pray for the nation, Tara, and create a world wherein we can find peace.”
They talked awhile longer, and when they had finished, she exited the White House to find that the sun was setting, and darkness was falling.
And her family and Richard, Captain Tremblay, Dr. MacKay and Finn were all waiting for her.
Finn stepped forward, and enfolded her into his arms.
“Come along, come along,” Cody said. “It’s getting late.”
“Where are we going?” she asked.
She looked into Finn’s eyes. She tried to remember when they had met; she’d never imagined then that he could look at anyone with such tenderness.
“You’re about to become my bride of the night, Miss Fox. That is, if you’re willing,” Finn said. His voice was rich and husky and his eyes were a fire that promised a lifetime of both tempest and delight.
“Aye, I’m willing, my love,” she told him.
And the darkness was descending, but she heard church bells ringing.
And the church was beautiful, hastily adorned with flowers by her newfound family.
Cody gave her away while the others stood witness, Richard acting as best man and Megan acting as her matron of honor. The words were all said, and she was married, and when they stepped into the street, Finn looked at her.
“For us, the healing has begun!” he said softly.
She kissed him, and the others applauded. They had found their own peace, and in it, the strength to fight for a new nation, and a new beginning.