Child of Light Read online

  A forlorn smile graced Miss Annie’s face. Her neck dipped to the side, and she clasped her hands in front of her waist. “You’ve been a faithful servant to this institution in the time you’ve been here, Margaret. It makes me very sad to lose you, and your services will be greatly missed…but rules are rules.”

  Margaret stared at Housemistress Brown with tears streaming down her cheeks. Had she really quit her job with nothing to fall back on? Miss Annie was supposed to give in to her request and beg her to stay. What would she do now?

  The housemistress cleared her throat, forcing Margaret’s attention on her. “Do you need help getting the girl outside?”

  “Oh, uh, no.” She pulled a handkerchief from her coat pocket, dabbed her eyes, and trudged out of the office.

  Removing Josie from beside the warm hearth inside St. Agnes’s proved harder than it had been taking her off the cold sidewalk. Margaret stood on Beach Street supporting the sick, pregnant woman, and hailed a hansom cab. Once a driver pulled to the side, she made her charge comfortable inside the carriage.

  “Where to, ma’am?”

  “Uh…” She stared blankly at the man sitting atop the driver’s seat. Where could she take her? What other choice did she have? “Take us to Long Wharf. I’ll give directions to the cottage from there.”

  She scooted in beside the girl and closed the door as the horse pulled out into the street. Josie’s head lolled to the side and landed on Margaret’s shoulder.

  She touched the girl’s cheek with the back of her hand. Hot. “Bless your heart.”

  Margaret licked her chapped lips and rubbed them together fretting over the countless questions flooding her mind. Questions she had no answers to. What would Pappy think of her bringing a strange woman into his home? How would Thomas react to what she’d done? It was too late to worry about any of that now. There was no turning back.

  Bowing her head, Margaret put her hand over Josie’s and softly prayed. “Father, God, please forgive me for waiting until now to ask for Your guidance, because I really need it. Lord, I pray you would soften the hearts of the two Murphy men when they find out what I’ve done. And, Lord, if it be Thy will, please heal Josie and protect her unborn child.” She squeezed her eyes shut tight against threatening tears. “Father, help me to show Your Son’s love to this woman. In His name I pray. Amen.” Margaret raised her head.

  A pair of pale blue eyes looked back at her.

  “Thank you,” Josie said, barely above a whisper.

  A blanket of reassuring peace covered Margaret’s soul. God not only gave her comfort, He put His words in her heart. And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. Yes…she was doing what was right.

  Drawing near Long Wharf, she stuck her arm out the carriage window and waved, acquiring the driver’s attention. He reined his horse into a slow trot.

  Margaret hollered out the window. “Turn here. Then look for number seven.”

  “Yup.”

  Minutes later, the driver slowed the hansom cab to a stop in front of Pappy’s harbor side home. When Margaret exited the carriage, Josie slumped to the side.

  “Excuse me, sir, but would you be able to help me get her inside?”

  A smirk crossed the man’s leathery face before he climbed down from his high perch. “Step aside, please.” The man scooped Josie into his arms. Despite her near full-term pregnancy, the strong driver lifted the sick young woman as though he lifted a child.

  Margaret hurried to open the door, praying her father-in-law’s easygoing nature wasn’t just for outward appearances. Once inside, Margaret pointed toward the sofa. “You can set her down over there.” Trying not to make eye contact with Pappy, she opened her purse and collected the cab fare, including a tip for helping with Josie. “Here you are, sir.”

  The driver shoved the coins into his pocket. “Ma’am,” he said. Tipping his hat, he left the cottage.

  Margaret turned to her father-in-law dreading what he would say. Pappy sat in his overstuffed chair, his foot elevated and hands clasped over his middle. His impish smile eased the fear in her heart. She shared an apprehensive smile walking over to him. “I can explain everything.”

  “Och!” Pappy flipped his hand up as usual. “No need to explain. If me daughter thinks it necessary to bring a young, pregnant girl home, then it must be what we need. I trust yer judgment, child.”

  She could have kissed the man, but there was much work to be done. “Thank you so much, Pappy. You truly are a blessing to me.” She scrutinized the entire cottage in search of a place for the girl to rest. A sickening cough drew her attention to the sofa. She put her hand to her mouth. What was she thinking bringing her to their home?

  Pappy lowered his foot and leaned forward in his chair. “What seems to be wrong with the lass?”

  Margaret shrugged, wringing her hands. “I’m not really sure. I found her on the street burning up with a fever. I begged Miss Annie to allow her to stay at St. Agnes, but she refused. I couldn’t let her die in the cold.”

  “Of course ye couldn’t, child. You did the right thing bringing her here. Why don’t ye set her up in me bedroom? I’m fine to sleep out here.” Pappy smiled and hooked his thumb toward the opposite side of the room. “Besides, it’s closer to the kitchen.”

  A weak smile was all she could manage. “No. I wouldn’t dream of taking your room.” Margaret glanced around the living room. “Maybe I can move the sofa into the corner for her.”

  “You know I have a big comfy pallet in me bedroom closet for when Hattie brings her brood over. Why not use that for the girl? It’s far more comfortable than that threadbare sofa by a good bit.”

  “You’re so good to me, Pappy.”

  “Och!” He waved off her compliment. “I’m happy to help me own little Good Samaritan.”

  Warmth grew in her heart for the Irishman. Straight away she retrieved the pallet from Pappy’s room and set it up in a corner of the living room close to the fire. She collected extra blankets and a heavy nightgown from her bedroom, and soap and a washcloth from the kitchen. After filling the washbasin with warm water from the kettle, she laid the supplies out on the table in front of the sofa.

  Margaret turned to her father-in-law. “Pappy, would you mind giving us some privacy while I get her out of those damp clothes and into bed?”

  “Say no more.”

  She helped Pappy to his feet and waited while he tottered off to his room. Once his door closed, she went to her patient’s side and lifted her small limp hand. How long had the poor young thing been out on the street?

  “Josie. Josie, wake up.” Margaret patted her hand until her eyes fluttered open.

  “My angel.” Josie started coughing.

  Margaret handed the girl a handkerchief and then turned her head away until the hacking abated. “I’ll get you some water, but first I want to get you cleaned up and into some dry clothes. Also, you need to learn my name and stop calling me angel.”

  One side of Josie’s lips curled into a smile.

  “My name is Margaret Murphy, and we are in my father-in-law’s home.”

  Josie softly touched her hand. “I don’t know how to repay you for your kindness, Margaret Murphy. You truly are an angel.”

  Margaret unbuttoned Josie’s crimson dress and washed her body with the warm soap and water. “Do you mind me asking how you ended up on the street?”

  “No, ma’am. I been working at a parlor house for a while now.”

  Working quickly, she dried the girl with a towel and covered her with the heavy nightgown so she wouldn’t catch a chill. Margaret knew the term parlor house was another name for a house of ill repute. Her fears were confirmed…Josie was a prostitute.

  “And why did they kick you out?” Margaret asked, even though she already knew the answer.

  She unscrewed the lid on the tin of beeswax ointment that Mama had sent from back ho
me, dipped her finger in and rubbed the cream on Josie’s cracked lips. Did the girl even know who the father of her baby was?

  “I been hiding my baby for as long as I could, but I got so sick with this coughing that I couldn’t work no more anyway. And that’s when they threw me out.”

  Margaret pursed her lips. Why had God been so kind and merciful to her, and not this poor girl? God always had a plan, but what good could come from the horror Josie had been through?

  She stood and held her hands out to the girl. “Come on. Let’s get you into bed, and I’ll get you something to eat and drink.”

  Josie stood with her help. She held onto Margaret crossing the room to the pallet. “I hoped maybe the daddy would marry me so I wouldn’t have to do what I done no more.”

  Margaret eased her down onto the soft padding.

  “But he was a sailor and sailors don’t stick around very long.” She dragged in a labored breath. “I never seen him again once I told him about the baby.”

  The small amount of exertion threw Josie into a dreadful coughing spasm. Margaret knelt beside her and braced her until it passed. “How long have you been sick like this, hon?” She laid Josie against a pillow.

  “It’s been coming on for a long while now.” The young woman’s eyes closed, her arm went limp and dropped to the pallet. She was out again.

  Margaret placed her hand on the big bump under Josie’s borrowed nightgown. She flinched and gasped when the baby kicked its mama’s belly. If any good came from the trying day, it would be that the little one was alive and well enough to make its presence known. And then she looked down.

  The delight in her heart faded to dread. Josie’s limp hand clutched what had been Margaret’s crisp, white handkerchief. The hankie was steeped in ruby red blood.

  Margaret raised a hand to her gaping mouth. Her chest heaved up and down with both sorrow and fear. The coughing, the blood, the weakness—consumption.

  Oh, dear Lord. What will Thomas do when he finds out what I’ve done?

  5

  Second Sunday of Advent ~ Love

  “Holy Father, we pray You warm our hearts with Your unfathomable love. We pray, Lord that the light of these candles be a sign of Christ’s promise of salvation. Help us to show Your love to the ones you have sent our way to minister to. May Your Son come quickly without delay. We ask this in His holy name. Come, Lord Jesus. Amen.”

  ~*~

  Josie’s persistent cough chased away any chance of a good night’s sleep. There wasn’t much Margaret could do about it, besides keeping Josie warm and rested. There was no cure for consumption.

  The girl ate a soft-boiled egg and drank some milk at Margaret’s insistence. She was far too thin for a woman with child.

  Pappy downed his plate of eggs and fried ham.

  It did Margaret’s heart good to know at least one of her patients was improving.

  With the morning meal behind her, Margaret helped Pappy to his chair in the living room, near the fire. Bowing close to his ear she whispered to him. “Pappy, I think it would be best if you didn’t get to close to Josie with that cough of hers. We don’t know what she might pass to anyone.”

  “That’ll be fine, daughter. I’ll keep me distance.”

  Margaret kissed his bald head before shrugging on her heavy coat by the cottage door. “I’ll be home earlier than usual.”

  Pappy waved to her. “Goodbye, my dear.”

  Closing the door behind her, she braced for the chilly weather. Icy cold wind bit her rosy cheeks. She hated having placed herself and Pappy in what might be a dangerous situation. But God had given her peace, and she had to trust Him.

  Had she been back home in Texas, Mama would know what to do for Josie. She knew so much about doctoring the sick and injured. Were it not for the medical skills Mama learned from her father, Thomas would have died from the wounds he received during his stint in the Civil War. Margaret shivered. She would be a lot warmer if she were in Texas too.

  After a long freezing walk, she arrived at the home of Michael and Hattie. She tapped the doorknocker and waited. They wouldn’t be expecting her this early in the day. But since she no longer had a position at St. Agnes, she might as well start her day taking care of the Murphy brood.

  “Who is it?” Mikey asked from the other side of the door.

  “It’s Aunt Margaret, Mikey. Open the door, please.”

  The little boy let her in. He closed the door quickly against the blustery chill.

  “Good morning, Mikey.”

  “Good morning, Aunt Margaret.” He dipped his head to the side. “Aren’t you early? I’m not even hungry yet.”

  Margaret raised her eyebrows and smirked. “Yes, I am earlier than usual.” She doffed her coat and hung it on one of the hooks beside the door. “Is Mommy up?”

  “Yes, ma’am…well, sort of.”

  “What do you mean, sort of?”

  The little man put his fists on his waist. “Well, she’s awake, but she’s not up.” He shook his head and heaved out a weighty breath. “She’s in there layin’ in the bed while I take care of these kids of hers.”

  Margaret stifled a chuckle. “My goodness. You certainly are Mommy’s ardent little helper.”

  Little eyes turned to the floor where he made circles with his shoe. “Since you’re here so early, maybe you can help me do my chores.”

  “Hm. I don’t think Mommy or Daddy would want me doing your chores for you. Remember what happened the first time you tricked me into it, don’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His shoulders drooped, turning to leave.

  “Tell you what.”

  Mikey stopped and listened.

  “If you’ll keep an eye on the girls for me while I go talk to Mommy, I’ll help you clean the playroom.”

  His eyes brightened. “All right, Aunt Margaret.”

  Margaret smiled as he scampered off. She went to Hattie’s room and tapped on the door. “Hattie, it’s Margaret. May I come in?”

  “Yes, come in.”

  Margaret entered and dragged a chair from the dressing table to her sister-in-law’s bedside.

  Hattie struggled to sit upright in the bed.

  “I thought I heard your voice. Is everything all right?”

  Margaret clasped her hands in her lap. “Yes…well, sort of. I need to talk to you about a situation that’s come up.”

  Hattie furrowed her brow. “Oh?”

  Taking a deep breath, she relayed the news of the new houseguest she currently hosted in Pappy’s home. Hattie’s disparaging look when she learned of Josie’s pregnancy discouraged Margaret. Their conversation then progressed from bad to worse.

  “You allowed a pregnant”—she turned her head, looking from one side of the room to the other, and lowered her voice—“lady of the night, to stay in our father-in-law’s home? Whatever were you thinking? Do you know anything about this woman? Why, she’s probably already knocked him in the head and stolen everything he has to his name.”

  An unpleasant heat rose up from Margaret’s chest to her cheeks. Hattie hadn’t given her the chance to answer any of the questions fired her way. When Hattie stopped to take a breath, Margaret seized the opportunity to defend herself. “That didn’t happen.”

  “Oh? How’s that?”

  “The poor girl is so ill she can hardly even hold her own head up, much less accost a grown man.” Margaret clamped her mouth shut realizing she hadn’t yet shared the worst part of the story.

  “She’s ill too? Oh, my word, Margaret.” Hattie raised her view to the ceiling and shook her head. She lowered her voice. “You mean to tell me you brought a sick, pregnant, prostitute into Pappy’s house without even checking with your husband? What is she sick with?”

  Margaret slumped in her chair and spoke her words to her lap. “I’m not positive, but I’m fairly sure she has consumption.”

  Hattie gasped, and her eyebrows rose on her forehead. “Oh, Margaret. Don’t you know consumption is a death sentenc
e? How could you bring such evil upon our family? And how does Pappy feel about what you’ve done?”

  The thorough tongue-lashing cut Margaret to the bone. She stood and picked up the chair she’d been sitting in. Trembling lips made it difficult to speak. “P, P, Pappy is quite all right with Josie staying.” A tear slid down her cheek. Her chest shook pulling in a breath. “In fact, he, he said he trusts my judgment.”

  “Is that right?” Hattie asked, her tone indignant.

  “Yes, that’s right. And not that you would care, but I have a feeling the Lord thinks I’m doing the right thing, too.” Margaret sniffed back more tears. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll finish my work here and be on my way. I’ll check in with you before I leave.”

  Hattie didn’t say a thing.

  Margaret walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. She rushed past the children to the kitchen to dry her eyes and collect herself before Mikey saw her.

  Hattie’s tirade struck a mighty blow to Margaret’s pride. How dare she treat her so unkind after all she’d done for her and her family. Would she fire Margaret for ministering to a sick, pregnant girl? Then she wouldn’t have a job at all, having quit her position at St. Agnes. She would have nothing to contribute to the family coffers.

  “Aunt Margaret!” Mikey called to her. “I’m ready for your help, please.”

  She blotted her tears and red cheeks with a cool, damp cloth. “I’m on my way.”

  After cleaning the entire apartment, feeding the children two meals and starting the family’s supper, Margaret backed into Hattie’s room holding a tray.

  Hattie slowly rolled onto her back pulling her huge protruding belly along with the rest of her body. Once she was situated, the tray was placed over her knees past where her tummy extended.

  “Thank you, Margaret.” Hattie picked up the napkin and unfolded it. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

  “It was no trouble at all.” She tried keeping her bruised feelings hidden.

  Hattie spooned sugar into her oatmeal without looking up. “Margaret, I apologize if my reaction upset you. But I stick by my words. You had no business bringing that woman into Pappy’s home, especially without Thomas’s knowledge or permission.”