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.”

She set the coffee on the counter and her eyes got wide. “Well, I’ll be. I’ve heard so much about your family…especially that Margaret of yours. From what I hear, she’s quite the girl.”

Mr. Logan grinned at her. “Thank you, ma’am. We’re real proud of all our children.”

“Well, of course you are. I’m going to let you two get back to talking. Give me a holler if y’all need anything.”

“Thank ye, Abbi,” Thomas said. He turned his attention back to Mr. Logan. “All right, now ye know why I’m here. Tell me what you’re doing here.”

“I’m on my way back home from taking Elizabeth to the state hospital in Austin.” Mr. Logan closed his eyes and when he opened them, tears glistened before he blinked them away.

“Oh no, what happened? Is she going to be all right?”

Mr. Logan rested his elbow on the counter and shook his head. “It’s…it’s a hospital for people that have sickness in their head. We didn’t know what else to do with her.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sir. Do they think they can help her?”

“I don’t know, son. I talked with the superintendent, and he said there was a good chance they could.” He looked away. “I sure hope so.”

Thomas hurt for him. The man loved his children. He put his hand on Mr. Logan’s shoulder. “I’m sure they will do their best, sir.”

“I pray you’re right, son.” Mr. Logan turned back to his plate and picked up a slice of toast. “So tell me about your trip up north.”

Thomas folded his arms on the counter and then looked at his reflection in the big framed mirror on the back wall. “It was a fine trip. My father is doing well and my youngest brother, Michael, is too. But actually, they’re not even in New York anymore.”

“Oh, really? Why is that?”

“Well, it seems Michael turned out to be quite gifted in the field of medicine and was sent up to Massachusetts General Hospital to train with the experts there.”

“Well, how about that. Good for him. So I guess they’re doing just fine for themselves.”

“I suppose so, but I’m afraid there was some bad news. My other brother, Jonathan, is among the missing.”

“Oh no, Thomas, I’m so sorry to hear that.” Mr. Logan’s face was sorrowful.

“Aye, but for the grace of God and the kindness of the Logan family, I would be dead too.”

The older man patted Thomas on the shoulder. “But God had a bigger plan for your life, son. He sent you all the way to Bolivar, Texas, just so you could marry my daughter Margaret.”

Thomas felt his heart leap at the mention of her name. “Oh, Mr. Logan, please tell me she’s still waiting for me. I never even got the chance to ask for her hand.”

Mr. Logan smiled and took a bite of his toast. “Of course she’s waiting for you, Thomas. And why wouldn’t she be? That girl is in love with you.”

Thomas looked up and released a long huff of air. “Thank Ye, Lord. Ye answered my prayers.”

Mr. Logan chuckled at his reaction. “So tell me, son, I thought you were collecting your Navy wages to get back to the peninsula. Why are you here, working on a ranch?”

Thomas felt the heat rising up his neck. “I did receive my pay, but a good bit of it went toward my fare back here. And I didn’t want to return to Margaret empty-handed.” He rubbed at the war wound on his head. “I’ve still got a good amount of my war wages, but I’ve been working here to pay for the wedding ring I bought her.”

“Well, look at you.” Mr. Logan grinned. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to impress my little girl.”

Thomas returned the smile. “Aye, that I am, sir.”

Mr. Logan put some cash on the counter and stood. “Well, come on, son, I want to see this ring.”

“But it’s not paid for yet. It’s still at the mercantile.”

“How much do you still owe on it?”

“Three payments is all.” A look of satisfaction graced Thomas’s face. “I’ve set aside money to start on a house for the two of us as well.”

“That’s wonderful. Can we go take a look at this ring you’ve purchased?”

“Sure, I’m on my way there now to make a payment.” Thomas picked up his coffee and took a sip…cold. He didn’t need it anyway. The visit with Mr. Logan was more exciting than any cup of coffee.

They said their goodbyes to Abbi and left the diner with the doorbell jingling in their wake. A few blocks down, they entered Feinberg’s Emporium.

“Thomas, I’ve been wondering what happened to you.” Mr. Feinberg pushed his hat back on his head, revealing the small amount of hair he had left.

“Aye, sir, I was on my way over when I ran into Mr. Logan, Margaret’s papa.”

Feinberg’s eyes grew wide. He grabbed Mr. Logan’s hand and gave it a forceful shake. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Logan. Thomas here has told me so much about your daughter.”

“Nice to meet you too, sir.” Mr. Logan looked a bit startled at the reception.

The frail little man brought a file box out from beneath the counter and thumbed through it. “Murphy, Murphy, let’s see. Ah, here it is.” He pulled out an envelope with a receipt pasted to the front and Thomas’s ring inside. “Just three more payments and she’s all yours. Isn’t that exciting?”

Thomas put his hand in his pocket to pull out his money. Before he could count out enough for the payment, Mr. Logan slapped a stack of cash down on top of the receipt.

Thomas looked at him. “Wh-what are you doing, sir?”

“There…paid in full.” Mr. Logan looked at him. “Now there’s nothing keeping you here.”

“I don’t believe it.”

Feinberg threw back his head and laughed. “Believe it, Thomas. You have yourself a very good future father-in-law!” Feinberg took the ring out of the envelope and slipped it on his pinky. He stamped the envelope paid in big red letters and then disappeared under the counter. When he stood up, he held a little gold box. He placed the ring inside and handed it to Thomas. “There you go, Thomas. Now go ask Miss Margaret to marry you.”

Thomas was still in shock when they left the mercantile. His mind raced with questions concerning what he should do next. Then he remembered the main reason he was in town. He glanced over toward the feed store.

Mr. Logan interrupted his thoughts. “Well, Thomas, can I talk you into returning to Bolivar with me? Stage leaves at two.”

He didn’t know where to start. “I…yes…but I have to deliver the feed. But we don’t need to take the stage…I have my own horse and wagon now.” Thomas started laughing. It was the first time he’d laughed in a very long time. He handed Margaret’s ring to Mr. Logan. “Thank ye so much for everything, sir.”

Mr. Logan took a long look at the ring. “Mighty fine-looking ring, son.” He returned the box to Thomas. “Well, all right then. Let’s deliver that feed and go tell your boss you’ve got yourself a better offer.” He put his arm around Thomas’s shoulder and they walked together to fetch the wagon.

Thomas’s thoughts fled to a small peninsula in the Gulf of Mexico where the love of his life resided. He longed to look into her violet eyes…to smell her raven hair…to kiss her ruby lips. And now, thanks to her papa, he would have her in his arms sooner than he’d expected. And sooner was a very good thing.