It was a fitting farewell. Papa would sleep forever in the deep.
The blanket grew soggy and disappeared under the waves. Gloriana watched until it was completely out of sight before returning to the clothesline for the sheet and pillowcase. The wind died down once again, as if its job were done.
She hugged the laundry close and glanced back at the waters. “Where were You, God?”
There was only the sound of the waves on the rocks and the occasional sound of wagons. God wasn’t offering any answers. Maybe He never would again.
“I made sure I was right with God. I guess I just wanted you to know so you could stop worryin’ about what would happen to me if I met with trouble.” Gloriana could almost hear her father speaking the words again.
“He got right with You, Lord, and then You took him from us. It’s not right. It will never be right.”
She made her way into the house and threw the laundry into a chair, not caring one bit that her mother would never have allowed such a thing. She too was gone. They were all gone except for her and JT.
The light was growing dim, but Gloriana couldn’t compel herself to light the lamp. She felt empty inside. Hollow and hopeless. Why bother with light? She sat down at the table and stared at the box of matches by the lamp. The light would help nothing. There was no light where her father’s body rested.
“What about the light of God?” a voice from somewhere deep inside her seemed to whisper.
Gloriana ignored it.
A knock came again on the door. Who would it be this time? Pastor Sedgwick making the rounds to attend his grieving flock? A neighbor or friend come to see what they could do? She took her time and lit the lamp before rising to see who had come. She had no desire to see anyone.
She opened the door and found Sally clutching her abdomen.
“It’s . . . the baby!”
Chapter 7
Gloriana sent JT for the midwife after she put Sally to bed. The young woman was in immense pain. No doubt the shock of losing her husband had brought on labor, but the baby was due any day, so things should go well. At least that was what Gloriana kept telling herself.
When JT returned with Abigail Lindquist, one of the local midwives, Gloriana breathed a sigh of relief and waited for instruction.
“We’ll need plenty of towels and hot water,” Abigail instructed. Being mother to eight of her own children, she tended to be someone folks listened to without question, and Gloriana was no exception.
Thankfully, there were plenty of clean towels, and it was easy enough to put a large pot of water on the stove. Gloriana checked the wood supply. It was good. They had plenty to keep them through the night.
But this started her down another path of thought. Would they have enough wood for the winter? There was so much that would fall to her now. Things her father had previously arranged for or taken care of himself were now her responsibility. She could hardly go into the woods and cut down winter fuel, as her father had done. She’d heard him making plans with Scott to do that very thing in the coming weeks. Now they were both dead. Who would cut their wood? She couldn’t do it, and neither could JT. She supposed they’d need to hire it done or beg help from one of the other fishermen when they went to cut their own. Captain Johnson might know someone, or perhaps he could arrange for each family to donate a bit. It wouldn’t be unlike other arrangements she’d heard of. But even that couldn’t go on forever.
Abigail appeared. “She’s doing just fine, but she’s a long time from delivering. This being her first, she may very well labor all night and into tomorrow. I’m going to head home, but I’ll be back in a few hours. I would try to get some rest and tell her to do the same. I told her if things progress faster than I thought and she feels the need to push, she should send someone for me right away.” She patted Gloriana’s arm. “I heard about your father. I am so very sorry. Don’t fret about anything. We ladies will gather up some supplies for you, and our men will discuss how to help you settle in for the winter.”
“Thank you.” Gloriana clutched at the older woman’s hand. “I was just wondering what I was going to do. JT is devastated, and I really don’t know the state of things as well as I should.”
Abigail nodded and squeezed Gloriana’s hand. “That’s the way of it when something like this happens. There’s so much shock and disbelief. In a few weeks you’ll finally understand the truth of it and how your world has been completely turned upside down. Don’t be afraid to let folks help you. Don’t be afraid to tell us what you need.”
With that, Abigail left Gloriana with her sorrow and fears, as well as her worry about how they would manage. Two women, a boy, and a newborn. It was almost too much to consider.
Luke had been impressed with the final miles of the route. They walked or rode by wagon as they progressed ever closer to Duluth, and along the way Archie had told Luke about the plans they had for the line.
They left Fond du Lac by river steamer for the last twenty miles of the journey, and Luke found he was more than ready to arrive in Duluth, no matter how small and uncivilized it was. All along the route he had been regaled with stories of the place by either Theodore or Archie, and he was ready to form his own opinion. Jay Cooke had visited once three years earlier. There had been even less of a town back then, but he had been able to see great potential. Men like him were visionaries, and Luke often wished he could be like them. Even so, there was a thrill attached to his travel and job.
Mr. Cooke believed in Luke’s capabilities, and that encouraged him. Maybe as a visionary, Mr. Cooke was able to see something in Luke that he couldn’t see for himself.
The late hour kept Luke from being able to see much after leaving Fond du Lac, but as they neared Duluth, he spied lights dotting the blackness here and there. Scott had written a couple of letters describing how beautiful the area was and how he and Sally liked the people. It would be good to see his brother again and declare his journey at an end.
The temperature had dropped into the forties, making Luke more than a little chilled. As they drew closer to the big lake, he knew that the damp air was the reason. He felt colder than he ever had back in Philadelphia. It seemed strange to him, given there was plenty of humidity there as well, but something about it was different here, and he’d just have to get used to it.
“Brought you a cup of coffee,” Archie said, handing a mug to Luke. “I’ve been talking with some of the crew. It sounds like it’s warming up.”
“This is warmer, eh? I’m sure glad for this fire.” Luke held his hands out to warm them. “My fingers are frozen.”
“You need better gloves. A better coat too. You’ll be able to buy them in Duluth. Back in the old days, before much of anybody moved north to Minnesota, they were always advised to bring warm clothes. Some folks didn’t take it seriously. They’d arrive in the summer heat and swat mosquitos as big as birds, and laugh about being hale and hardy enough to endure the Minnesota winter. Then winter came, and they were scrambling.”
“Philadelphia gets plenty cold. I guess I just didn’t take into account that you are much farther north and situated on a large body of water. Philadelphia was near water too, but I obviously misjudged.”
“You’ll learn, as we all did. They’ve built—or I guess I should say, are building—a nice-sized hotel in Duluth. It’s called the Clark House, but it’s not yet ready for us, so you’ll probably be directed to the Jefferson House.”
“I know about the Clark House. It’s part of what I’ll be overseeing.” Luke strained his eyes at the lights in the east. Would they ever get there?
Theodore Sedgwick showed up with another cup of coffee for Luke. “Oh, I see you already found the coffee.” He frowned in the glow of the firelight.
“Archie here was good enough to bring me one, but thank you.”
“Are you two discussing the railroad?” Sedgwick asked, looking for a place to set one of the mugs. He finally settled on a nearby deck stand.
“We wer
e talking about the Clark House,” Luke replied, then took a long drink of the hot black liquid. It was perfect and gave him a momentary warmth that had been missing.
“Ah, the new hotel Mr. Cooke arranged.”
“Yes. I was just about to tell Archie that I won’t be staying at the boardinghouse with the others, but rather at my brother’s house. He lives near the lake, as he is a fisherman.”
“I just heard the storms of the last few days claimed many a boat and crew,” Sedgwick said. “I pray your brother was not among the lost.”
Luke frowned. He’d heard rumors about the storm, but no one had mentioned deaths. “I didn’t realize things were as bad as that.”
“Yes.” Sedgwick nodded and sloshed his coffee over the side of the mug. He ignored the mess and continued. “A few dozen boats were lost, as I understand it. The storm came up quickly. I think it was maybe three days ago. Many of the men were caught out on the water with miles to go before reaching safety.”
Luke nodded. “I suppose we shall know soon enough what has happened.”
He left the fire and walked to the deck rail to gaze out across the water of the St. Louis River. From the look of the lights glowing across the water, it appeared that Duluth sat on the left, down by the water’s edge. It then rose up the hills behind. Scott had told him it was a sort of terrace town, and the lights seemed to prove this true. To the right was Superior, Wisconsin. It was very close, and in that moment, Luke finally understood the rivalry. They were truly sister cities, separated only by a small opening of water.
As they slipped from the St. Louis River into St. Louis Bay, Luke strained to see out into the darkness. Reaching out from the Duluth side, Luke had been told, was Minnesota Point—a long bar of land, at the end of which sat the lighthouse. This natural breakwater not only offered protection but stood ready as a permanent gatekeeper into Superior Bay. Jutting out from the opposite side was another bar of land called Wisconsin Point. Each state had made a stand, declaring their territory, it seemed.
The steamer slipped ever closer and passed from St. Louis Bay into Superior Bay. Beyond Minnesota Point lay the lake, although the thin strip of breakwater offered little division from the miles of vast blackness that lay beyond. Lake Superior—the great lady herself.
The water looked like a void, an endless blackness that threatened to swallow anyone who dared to cross her. Luke had seen the ocean before and even crossed it several times, but there was something surprisingly eerie about this lake. Maybe it was all the stories he’d heard. From those familiar with it, it sounded as if the lake were a haunted entity who held grudges against those it found wanting.
“There’s our welcoming committee,” Archie said, motioning him to the other side of the boat. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised to see how many have turned out.”
Luke could see a large number of people gathered on the dock. Once the steamer was secured, they disembarked to be greeted by those who represented their housing and care, as well as others who simply wanted to celebrate their arrival.
“We’re very glad to welcome representatives of the Lake Superior and Mississippi Railroad. And especially happy to have you with us, Mr. Carson,” the mayor declared. “However, with the lateness of the hour, we will take pity on you all and allow you to head off to your various places of rest.”
There was a bit of upheaval as all that was sorted out. Many of the men on board were going to stay with individual families who had opened their homes to strangers. Several were heading for Jefferson House, a boardinghouse that had the good manners to send a wagon for the luggage. Otherwise, people were instructed to retrieve their things and follow the locals on a march up the wharf and into town.
“There’s hardly a carriage to be had here, although there are numerous lumber and farm wagons,” Archie explained. “However, you’re in luck. I know a fellow who will drive us over to where your brother lives. But first, let’s arrange for your trunks to be delivered.”
They grabbed their bags, and Archie waited while Luke found the freight man and arranged for the many trunks he’d brought. Some of it was business, but most was personal, and he was beginning to question the sanity of hauling so much stuff along. When the freight man learned that Luke was Jay Cooke’s associate, he gave every assurance that the trunks would be delivered before midnight.
Satisfied that he’d done all he could, Luke caught up to Archie, and they made their way north and then east. It wasn’t long before Luke was introduced to Samuel Griggs. The sleepy old man greeted them in a gruff, groggy manner. It seemed to Luke that perhaps the old man had been drinking.
Nevertheless, Griggs hitched his team and headed onto the road with Luke and Archie on board. He said nothing and offered no explanation of where they were going. Luke wondered at the old man’s attitude but figured it wasn’t good to rile him with questions. After all, he was doing them a favor.
Griggs soon brought the wagon to a stop and motioned to the smaller of two houses. “That’s the house. The little one. That’s where you’ll find the missus.”
“This is where I’ll bid you farewell until later,” Archie said, reaching out to shake Luke’s hand. “It’s been great getting to know you, and I’m sure we will do good work together.”
“As am I.” Luke hopped down and grabbed his luggage off the back of the wagon. “What do I owe you?” he asked, coming up to the front where Griggs sat.
“Nothin’,” the man said. He slapped the lines and started the horses back down the road.
What a strange man. Luke watched for a moment, then turned back toward the houses. The little cottage was dark. It was late, and perhaps they’d all gone to bed. There was nothing to do, however, but wake them up. Then it dawned on Luke that Griggs had said this was where he’d find the missus. Perhaps Scott was away on some extended fishing venture.
“She knows me. It’s not like I’m a stranger,” Luke mused aloud. But it would hardly be appropriate for him to stay with Sally if Scott wasn’t there. Perhaps she’d have an idea where to send him for a room.
Luke walked down to the cottage, wishing it was daylight so he could see by more than what little light the larger house provided. Whoever those folks were, they hadn’t yet gone to bed, and for that he was grateful. The lamplight shining out of several rooms kept him from tripping over his feet.
When he reached the door to the small cottage, Luke knocked. To his surprise, the door creaked open. He made his way inside.
“Scott? Sally?”
There was no reply, and darkness made it hard to see where he might find a lamp or matches. Luke put down his case and let his eyes adjust to the dark. He thought he could see the outline of a table and made his way carefully to its edge.
He gently felt around until his fingers touched the smooth glass base of a lamp. Upon further inspection, he found a box of matches and struck one. He held it up to allow him to see exactly what he was dealing with. In a quick minute, he had the lamp lit and the glass chimney back in place.
The cottage was small. There was the combined living room and kitchen area and nothing more. On the far end of the room was a fireplace. He went to investigate and found there had been a fire, but it had been allowed to die out. He saw the wood stacked to the left and decided it was cold enough to warrant rebuilding the fire.
He had no idea where Scott and Sally might be. Perhaps the baby had come, and she was at the doctor’s house or hospital. But did Duluth even have a hospital? Did women go to the hospital to have a baby? They hadn’t when Scott was born. Most women had their children at home in the comfort of their own beds.
The wood responded quickly to Luke’s attempts and soon blazed with an abundance of light and heat. Luke stood and gave the room a better look. It was impeccably neat. Everything was in its place. Sally had always seemed good at organizing and cleaning.
Spying two doors, Luke picked up the lamp and went to see what might be in those rooms. The first was a bedroom that had been conve
rted to a washroom and storage. He spied the monogrammed luggage Scott had taken from home, so at least he knew he was in the right house. He would have hated to be milling about in a stranger’s home.
Continuing his tour, he found a second bedroom behind the other door. There was a small cradle in one corner and a trunk. On the other side, a neatly made bed was pressed against the wall. At the end of this, someone had strung a rope from one side of the corner wall to the other, and there were several articles of clothing hanging there. Behind these was a small stand with a wash basin. Another trunk sat at the end of the bed.
The room was sparse but clean. Luke couldn’t imagine how hard the adjustment must have been, however. Carson servants lived better than this. How could Scott have found such poverty to be acceptable? How could he have managed without more?
“Because he loves Sally. Nothing else matters,” Luke said to no one.
He had always wanted that kind of love for himself, but it had never come.
“Hello? Who’s in here?” a feminine voice called from the other room. Her tone sounded accusing.
Luke left the bedroom and came face-to-face with a young woman. She looked to be in her twenties and had an abundance of windblown blond curls that even now she was fighting back into place.
She eyed him with suspicion. “What are you doing in here?”
“I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t startle you. I’m Lucas Carson. I’m Scott’s brother. I just arrived,” he hurried to explain. “Mr. Griggs brought me here.”
The woman’s tight expression relaxed. “I see.”
“And you are?”
“Gloriana. Gloriana Womack. My father owned this cottage and rented it to your brother and Sally.”
Luke gave her a broad smile. “Then at least I’m in the right place. Do you by any chance know where my brother and his wife might be?”
At this, the woman looked away and bit her lower lip. She said nothing for several long moments. Luke was surprised by her attitude but waited patiently.
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