Courage to Love (Flynn Family Saga) (22 page)

When the Mass ended, Maggie remained, kneeling in the pew for a long time.  She prayed, but she wasn’t even sure what it was she prayed for.  She wanted Flynn, but she was afraid of her own longing for him.

Afraid that her love for Flynn would one day end with her death, the way Lucy’s love for Michael had.

Brother Joseph touched her shoulder.

Maggie smiled at him and stood.  He led the way to the refectory.  Sister Ignatius frowned.  “Brother Joseph!  What do you mean bringing a woman here?”

“It’s Maggie, Sister.  Maggie O’Brien.”

“Maggie?”  Sister Ignatius peered at her from behind thick glasses.  Slowly, she smiled.  “Maggie!”  She pulled Maggie into a hug.  She smelled of beeswax and incense.

Maggie shut her eyes and held on tight.

Finally, Sister Ignatius stepped back.  “Sit down!  Sit down!  Breakfast is getting cold!”  She hurriedly set another place.

Maggie smiled.  She sat down and bowed her head.

Brother Joseph was silent for a long time.  Then, he spoke.  “Thank you, Lord for this good food, prepared for us by this good woman.  And thank you for bringing Maggie to us once again.  Amen.”

“Amen.”  Maggie crossed herself, something she hadn’t done since she went to live with her grandparents.

“Tell me all about your life.  How are your parents?”  Brother Joseph smiled at her.

Suddenly, Maggie had no appetite.  She bowed her head and looked down at her plate.  “They’re dead.”

Brother Joseph reached across the table and touched her hand.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t know.”

Maggie raised her head.  Slowly, haltingly, she told him of their deaths.

When she finished, Brother Joseph sighed.  “I will pray for them.”

Maggie blinked.  “But—but my father committed suicide!  That’s a mortal sin.”

“Oh, child.  The God I believe in is not as cruel as that.  No man takes his own life lightly.  It takes great pain to drive a man to that.  I should know.”  He looked down at his hands.  “When I realized what I had done as a guard, I tried to kill myself.  I found a rope and threw it over a beam in the barracks.  Two of the prisoners lifted me up and took the noose from around my neck.  At first, I hated them for it.  Then, I began to see how I could make up for the harm I had done.”

Maggie bowed her head.  Tears slid slowly down her cheeks.  “I never thought of that.”  She raised her head.  “I never thought about how much my father must have been hurting to drink like that.”

Brother Joseph squeezed her shoulder.  “It doesn’t look like it, not from the outside, but every man who has succumbed to the bottle has been in great pain.”

Maggie sighed.  “But there were good times, too.”  She talked of the joy of living on her grandfather’s farm, of the pain of leaving.  She talked about moving to St. Joseph and watching as her father destroyed every chance they had of happiness and security.

“But then I met Major Anders.”

Brother Joseph blinked.  “Major Sam Anders?”

Maggie nodded.

He got up and went to the window.  “That’s one of the men, Maggie.  The men who kept me from taking my own life."  He frowned.  "What the other man's name?"

"Ben?  Ben Brewster?"

Brother Joseph shook his head.  "No."

"Frank?"

Brother Joseph smiled.  "No.  Hank.  Hank Johnson."  He sighed.  "Hank had been wounded.  A bullet entered his skull.  But he had the faith of child.  And Major Anders made me see what I was doing, not by confronting me, but by his example.  He organized the prisoners.  They didn’t try to escape.  They looked out for one another.  It—it reminded me that they were human beings.  And so was I.  He’s the reason I became a monk.”

Tears filled Maggie’s eyes.  “He has helped so many people.  He gave me a job when my father deserted us.  I trained horses, and I trained the people who traveled west with him.”

Brother Joseph smiled at her.  “So.  You are a teacher.”

“Yes, I guess I am.”  Maggie smiled at him.  “And I loved it.  I wanted to go with them, but Sam was afraid the women would tar and feather us both.”

Brother Joseph laughed.  “They probably would have.”

Maggie laughed with him.  Her laughter edged toward hysteria, and she forced herself to stop.  She drew a deep breath.  “Then, I received a telegram.  My grandparents were very ill.  Sam sent his scout with me, to look after me.”

“What was the scout’s name?”

Maggie looked at him.  “Flynn.  Why?”

Brother Joseph’s breath caught.  When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse.  “Flynn risked his life to give Sam and Ben a chance to escape.  Sam was dying.  He would have died if they hadn’t gotten away.  I gave Flynn my uniform.”  He smiled faintly.  “And Flynn gave me a black eye so they wouldn’t hang me.”  He shut his eyes.  “It’s good to know Flynn is alive.”

Maggie looked away.  “Anyway, Flynn came with me.  My grandparents had cholera, and he helped me take care of them.”  She fell silent, remembering the stench and her own fear of entering a house filled with cholera.  She drew a deep breath.  “He helped me take care of them.  And he helped me bury them.  And he—he helped me grieve them.  When I was old enough, he asked me to marry him, only—only there was an accident, and he lost his leg.”

“I’m sorry, Maggie.”

Maggie shut her eyes.  “I’ve saved so many people, but I couldn’t save his leg.”

Brother Joseph squeezed her hand.  “I know.  Mr. Johnson froze to death last winter.  He wouldn’t come into the church to stay warm.”

Maggie opened her eyes and nodded.  “He was always so proud.  He always gave us something when we brought him food.”

Brother Joseph nodded.  Tears shone in his eyes.  “He was one of my favorites.  After that, I couldn’t bear to walk by his corner.  I asked for a transfer, and they sent me here.  It’s ironic, isn’t it?  Camp Sumter was one of the worst Confederate prisons, and Elmira was one of the worst the Union had.”

Maggie nodded.

“What happened, Maggie?  Why do you touch your wedding ring as if it pains you?”

“Because it does!”  Her voice rang off the tiled walls of the kitchen.  She drew a deep breath.  “I love him so much.  But our baby was born dead, and he ran!  He ran away and left me to grieve alone.”

Brother Joseph frowned.  “That doesn’t sound like the Lieutenant Flynn
I
knew.  Did you ask him why?”

Maggie opened her mouth and shut it.  “No.  I thought—”  And then, she realized the truth.  That she had believed that Flynn ran away to be with Jennie.  Only Jennie had died in 1863.  She buried her face in her hands.  “What have I done?”

“Nothing irrevocable, I hope.”

Maggie laughed shakily.  “No.”  She let her hands fall into her lap.  “I’ve been such a fool.”

Brother Joseph shook his head solemnly.  “No, child.  You were grieving.  And so was Flynn.  You both made mistakes.  After all, you’re only human.”

Maggie nodded slowly.  “I don’t know if I can ever trust him again.”

“Why not?”

“Because he left me when I needed him most.”

Brother Joseph was silent a long time.  “Did you ever stop to think about what
he
needed?”

Think of the horse, Maggie-my-girl.  Think how scared she is.
  Maggie heard her grandfather’s voice as clearly as if he sat beside her.

Maggie shook her head.  “But it wouldn’t have mattered.  I had nothing to give for a long time afterward.”

“Well, I’m no expert, but I imagine he didn’t have much to give either.”

Maggie shut her eyes.  “That’s what Emma said.”

“Who is Emma?”

Maggie opened her eyes.  “She’s a friend of mine.  She buried three children.  She said that it took her a long time to forgive her husband.”

“But she did, didn’t she?” Brother Joseph said gently.

“Yes.”  Maggie drew a deep breath.  “She said something else, too.”

“What was that?”

“That eventually, she and her husband remembered that they loved each other.”

Brother Joseph smiled again.  Slowly, he grew solemn.  “Do you still love your husband, Maggie?”

“I don’t know.  I’m not sure I ever did.”  Tears filled her eyes.  “I—I wanted him to love
me
, but I don’t think I ever stopped to think about what
he
wanted.”

“Well, at some point, he must have wanted to marry
you
.”

Maggie laughed shakily.  “Yes, he did.”

Brother Joseph hesitated.  “Love isn’t a closed fist, grasping for whatever it wants.”  He held up his fist.  Then, slowly, he opened it.  “It’s an open hand, offering and receiving only what is freely given, without expectation or demand.”

Maggie closed her eyes.  It was as if she could see her life, spread out before her.  And she saw a pattern.  She had given, yes, but there were strings attached.  There were always strings attached.  She gasped.  “Even when I thought I was protecting my parents, I really only wanted them to live long enough to come to love me.”

“And they never did.”

“No.  They never did.”  Maggie looked down at her hands.

Brother Joseph sighed.  “Love isn’t easy, Maggie.  It’s much harder than hate.”  Then, he smiled.  “But it’s worth it.”

Maggie thought of all the people she had loved in her life:  her grandparents, Sam, Kate, Ben, Frank, Emma, Billy, Jessica, Abigail Barrett, Melanie Mead and the twins.  It
was
worth it.

Brother Joseph patted her arm.  “It’s getting late, and I still have my rounds to make.  There are men here, too, who need food.”

Maggie bit her lip.  “Can I—can I come with you?”

Brother Joseph’s smile broadened.  “I would like that very much, Maggie.”  He filled the heavy pail with soup that Sister Ignatius had made.  Maggie carried the bread.  Together, they walked the streets of the town.  There weren’t as many beggars as there had been in Manhattan , but it was winter, and it had snowed the night before, and many of them shivered with the cold and were grateful for the warm soup.

The sun had nearly set when Maggie went back to the boarding house.  She went upstairs and knocked on Flynn’s door.

There was no answer.

She went back down to the kitchen and found Mrs. Carson.  “Have you seen Flynn?”

“No ma’am.”  Mrs. Carson looked up from the biscuit dough she was rolling out.  “He left right after breakfast and hasn’t been back.”

Maggie bit her lip.  “Thank you.”  She went upstairs and changed into her trousers and work shirt.  She pulled on her sheepskin jacket and went outside.  The light was failing, but the boarding house wasn’t far from the site of the prison.  She shivered in the cold wind as she walked.

She almost tripped over Flynn.  He knelt on the cold, hard ground, his right hand outstretched as if he reached for something that wasn’t there.

“Flynn?”

Maggie knelt beside him and took his face in her hands.

He stared right through her, as if she didn’t exist.

Maggie shuddered.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Flynn knelt beside Corporal Addison on the hard, cold ground.  He held Addison’s hand.  The man’s skin was hot and dry.  Addison started to cough, the deep, hollow cough of a man dying of pneumonia.  Flynn helped him sit up the coughing stopped.  Then, he eased Addison down onto the thin gray blanket.  Addison seized Flynn’s hand again, gripping it with startling strength.  He drew a ragged breath.  “Lieutenant?”

“I’m right here, Corporal.”

Addison laughed weakly.  “I know.  I almost broke your hand.”  He sobered.  “Lieutenant, let me go.”

Flynn pretended to misunderstand.  “You’re the one who almost broke
my
hand.”

Addison shook his head.  “You know what I mean.”

Flynn looked away and nodded.  “Yes, I do.”  He looked back.  “I just—I just don’t want to lose another friend.”

Addison tried to grin and started to cough.  When he could breathe again, he said, “You’re not losing a friend.  You’re gaining an extra ration.”

Flynn laughed in spite of the ache in his throat.  He squeezed Addison’s hand.  “All right, Corporal.  Consider yourself dismissed.”

Addison smiled at him.  He closed his eyes.  His breathing was labored, and his chest gurgled with every breath.

Flynn sat very still, holding Addison’s hand.

Night fell, and still Addison continued to breathe.

Flynn shut his eyes and began the Lakota chant for the dead.  Slowly, Addison began to relax.  Overhead, the stars danced in their slow circle.  Dawn came softly, like a lover.  Flynn fell silent.

Addison opened his eyes and smiled.  “Thank you.”  He drew one, deep breath.

It was his last.

Above them, an eagle circled on the wind, screaming his defiance of gravity and civilization.

“Eagle Heart.  My name used to be Eagle Heart,” Flynn murmured.

*  *  *

 “Eagle Heart!”  Maggie called his name as loudly as she could.

Flynn’s eyes still gazed at something she could not see.

Her trembling fingers unfastened the buttons of his jacket.  She drew the bear claw necklace over his head and placed it into his hands.  She closed his fingers around it.

Slowly, his eyes focused on her face.  “Maggie?  What are you doing here?”

Tears burned Maggie’s eyes.  “We came here together, Flynn.  Remember?”

Flynn shut his eyes.  “I was lost again.”

“Yes.”  Maggie’s tears slid slowly down her cheeks.

Flynn opened his eyes and blinked.  “How long have I been here?”

“All day, I think.”  Maggie’s voice trembled.

He shuddered.  He tried to stand and couldn’t.  Maggie put her arm around his shoulders and helped him get up.  Together, they went back to the boarding house.

When she saw them, Mrs. Carson frowned.  “Is he drunk?”

Maggie shook her head.  “No.  It’s his wooden leg.  Sometimes, it gives out on him.”

Mrs. Carson nodded.  “Supper’s ready.”

Maggie nodded.  She helped Flynn up the stairs.  She poured water in the enameled basin on the washstand.  She helped him out of his jacket.  Flynn limped over to the basin and washed his hands.  Maggie bit her lip.  “Are you all right?”

Flynn nodded.  “Yes.  Thanks to you.”  He shut his eyes and splashed water onto his face.