"Dec. 3, 1863
New York, New York
My dearest Sarah, I am sorry that I have been so long delayed. My journey had been most successful and I shall be returning to you and AJ shortly. I seem to have caught a dreadful cough while staying here in New York. The streets are filthy; one could grow a garden in the dirt one finds in one's clothes at the end of the day.
Your letters finally reached me. I must say that I was not surprised to learn that you are not content living with AJ. I wish there was something I could do for you to ease that discomfort; however, your father did appoint him your guardian until you reach twenty-five. I know you disagree with his sensibilities as much as I do, but for now you must bide your time.
I trust you have turned his household upside down since he left for the war. I cannot wait to return and see all that you have done to it. I long for the quiet of the front porch and your beautiful rose garden. My sister, your mother, God rest her soul, had quite a talent with flowers. Each time I see you, I am reminded more and more of her.
Give my regards to Hannah, Gunny and Sturgis, if you still keep contact with him. And greetings to the Roberts', a family I cannot wait to meet, you mention them so happily. I love you, dearest. Your loving Uncle, Matthew O'Hara"
Mac dropped the letter into her lap and sat staring into the fire. She thought about the fact that her own Uncle couldn't come to take her away from this place- this gilded cage. Mac adored the people she lived with and worked around, but she wanted to get away from the chores that were smothering her spirit, to see the world like her Uncle Matt. Tears of frustration had come to her eyes, but she stubbornly blinked them back.
"Miss Sarah, are you alright?"
Mac looked up and saw Bobbi standing beside her. "Yes," she replied, shaken from her reverie, "I'm fine."
"You don't fool me for a second," Bobbi said quietly, "I've known you for many years now."
Mac smiled admittedly as she looked into the eyes of her friend, and Bobbi continued, "You've been working non-stop and only slept a few good hours in the last two days."
Mac nodded, and rose from the chair, putting the letter in her apron pocket. "You've slept less than I have. I'll be up to treat our patient in a few minutes. I've got to speak with Mr. Gibson first."
Bobbi nodded and patted Mac's arm affectionately.
Mac walked into the kitchen to discover Hannah at the stove, Gunny sitting on the corner of the table eating a muffin, and Harriet sat in a rocking chair near the hearth watching little AJ play. Bud had already opened the passage door and the Gibsons were all sitting at the table.
"Mr. Gibson, may I speak with you for a moment," she asked quietly.
Mr. Gibson nodded at his wife, and then followed Mac into the side hall, and when they were out of earshot of the children, he said, "It's tonight, then?"
Mac nodded solemnly. "Yes. I don't think it's safe for you to stay her any longer. The battle is over and it'll be safe. Sturgis will accompany you to the next station, but when you get there, you'll change conductors."
Mr. Gibson nodded. "Miss Mackenzie, I don't know how to thank you."
Mac held up her hand, and smiled. "It's been my privilege, Mr. Gibson."
That night, long after the Roberts' were asleep, Mac said goodbye the family. A downpour had started and Mac gave each of them and untreated wool coat, which would keep them dry. After they had donned the jackets, they each said farewell. It wasn't an emotional farewell, for the Gibsons knew that they had a long, dangerous journey still ahead of them. Sturgis assured Mac that he would return before dawn, and with that they all disappeared into the night.
My dearest Sarah, I am sorry that I have been so long delayed. My journey had been most successful and I shall be returning to you and AJ shortly. I seem to have caught a dreadful cough while staying here in New York. The streets are filthy; one could grow a garden in the dirt one finds in one's clothes at the end of the day.
Your letters finally reached me. I must say that I was not surprised to learn that you are not content living with AJ. I wish there was something I could do for you to ease that discomfort; however, your father did appoint him your guardian until you reach twenty-five. I know you disagree with his sensibilities as much as I do, but for now you must bide your time.
I trust you have turned his household upside down since he left for the war. I cannot wait to return and see all that you have done to it. I long for the quiet of the front porch and your beautiful rose garden. My sister, your mother, God rest her soul, had quite a talent with flowers. Each time I see you, I am reminded more and more of her.
Give my regards to Hannah, Gunny and Sturgis, if you still keep contact with him. And greetings to the Roberts', a family I cannot wait to meet, you mention them so happily. I love you, dearest. Your loving Uncle, Matthew O'Hara"
Mac dropped the letter into her lap and sat staring into the fire. She thought about the fact that her own Uncle couldn't come to take her away from this place- this gilded cage. Mac adored the people she lived with and worked around, but she wanted to get away from the chores that were smothering her spirit, to see the world like her Uncle Matt. Tears of frustration had come to her eyes, but she stubbornly blinked them back.
"Miss Sarah, are you alright?"
Mac looked up and saw Bobbi standing beside her. "Yes," she replied, shaken from her reverie, "I'm fine."
"You don't fool me for a second," Bobbi said quietly, "I've known you for many years now."
Mac smiled admittedly as she looked into the eyes of her friend, and Bobbi continued, "You've been working non-stop and only slept a few good hours in the last two days."
Mac nodded, and rose from the chair, putting the letter in her apron pocket. "You've slept less than I have. I'll be up to treat our patient in a few minutes. I've got to speak with Mr. Gibson first."
Bobbi nodded and patted Mac's arm affectionately.
Mac walked into the kitchen to discover Hannah at the stove, Gunny sitting on the corner of the table eating a muffin, and Harriet sat in a rocking chair near the hearth watching little AJ play. Bud had already opened the passage door and the Gibsons were all sitting at the table.
"Mr. Gibson, may I speak with you for a moment," she asked quietly.
Mr. Gibson nodded at his wife, and then followed Mac into the side hall, and when they were out of earshot of the children, he said, "It's tonight, then?"
Mac nodded solemnly. "Yes. I don't think it's safe for you to stay her any longer. The battle is over and it'll be safe. Sturgis will accompany you to the next station, but when you get there, you'll change conductors."
Mr. Gibson nodded. "Miss Mackenzie, I don't know how to thank you."
Mac held up her hand, and smiled. "It's been my privilege, Mr. Gibson."
That night, long after the Roberts' were asleep, Mac said goodbye the family. A downpour had started and Mac gave each of them and untreated wool coat, which would keep them dry. After they had donned the jackets, they each said farewell. It wasn't an emotional farewell, for the Gibsons knew that they had a long, dangerous journey still ahead of them. Sturgis assured Mac that he would return before dawn, and with that they all disappeared into the night.
