Northern Light by Annette O'Hare Page A

not leaving this family. If she stays at Langley’s place, she’ll be fine. The old man has an arsenal of weapons at hand. We’ll have to deal with Elizabeth when this is over. Now everyone get in the pantry.”
    Margaret moved to the back of the room and sat down on the wood floor. June stood trembling in the middle of the pantry. Margaret held her hands out. The little girl crawled into her lap and buried her face against her chest.
    After the last raid, Papa had knocked out the wall between the pantry and the linen closet. There was so much more room now.
    “Give me a hand, Thomas.”
    He pressed the sheet of wood against the door. Papa pulled a nail from his pocket and hammered it into the wall in case the lock didn’t hold. He drove a nail into each side of the wood. “I’ve got it from here. Go see to the women.”
    “Mrs. Logan, are ye all right back there?”
    She closed her eyes and nodded, clutching her baby.
    Thomas sat down beside Margaret and June. He pulled her head to his shoulder. “Everything will be all right, lass.”
    Margaret whispered to Thomas, “What if they find Elizabeth? What if they…?”
    “She’s in the Lord’s hands now. Let’s pray for her.”
    Thomas offered his hand and Margaret took it into hers. “I can’t pray.” She tried but couldn’t get the words out. “Will you?”
    “Of course I will.”
    While Thomas prayed a great and mighty hedge of protection over the family and also for Elizabeth’s safety, Papa drove nail after nail into the wood.
    Margaret held tight to Thomas’s strong hand, tears wetting her face as she stifled the desperate sobs. Even with Union soldiers invading their land, she felt safe inside the pantry with Thomas next to her. But an ache in her heart reminded her of one of the parables she’d learned as a child. Please, Lord Jesus, find Your lost sheep.

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    It was all she and Mama could do to keep everyone quiet when the small space included a baby, one rambunctious little girl, and a nanny goat. Margaret wasn’t sure what was worse, the lack of fresh air or the strong smell of a goat and six sweaty bodies inside the tiny room.
    Screams pierced the air outside, echoing through the pantry.
    Everyone froze, silence filling the small room.
    “Papa, we have to go out there. The Yankees have Elizabeth!” She buried her face in Thomas’s sleeve and sobbed. “She doesn’t sound right at all, Thomas. I know they’re doing something terrible to her.”
    Papa waved a hand toward Margaret. “Hush up! It doesn’t sound right because it’s not Elizabeth. Now listen close!”
    Thomas cupped his hand and whispered into Margaret’s ear. “He’s right, lass. Listen. Those are men screaming.”
    “How can you tell it’s men? It sounds like a bunch of schoolgirls.” Margaret tried to whisper, but the words came out loud. “What’s happening out there?”
    As quickly as the screaming started…it stopped.
    ~*~
    No more sounds came from beyond the pantry.
    It seemed as if an hour passed before Papa finally gave the word he was ready to open the door.
    “Thomas, would you hand me the hammer there beside you?” Papa asked.
    Thomas picked up the hammer and stood. “Don’t ye fret, sir. I’ll remove those nails for ye.”
    “All right then, I believe I’ll let you.” Papa moved out of Thomas’s way.
    The soldiers hadn’t come into the house.
    But Elizabeth was still somewhere out there.
    Thomas helped Margaret up from the floor as Papa pushed the pantry door open.
    When the door opened, June bolted from the pantry like a wild animal released from its cage.
    “June Marie Logan, get back in here now.” Terror sounded in Mama’s voice. Mama didn’t usually show fearfulness around the smaller children.
    “It’s OK. It’s all clear outside.” June stuck her nose in the air and sniffed extra loud. “Papa, I smell something burning!”
    Papa took Jeremiah and helped Mama up off the floor. “All right now, June, come back in here and gather