T. Coyle - The Beginnings

by jlgcameo3

Summary:

If I were asked to write the backstory of the Coyle family, and specifically the rum-running, charismatic, hero Thomas Coyle of 1814 that we met during season two of The Way Home Hallmark TV series, it would go something like this…

(Show, characters introduced on the show, sets, and canon are property of Hallmark.)

Chapter 1

Dublin to Liverpool to Nova Scotia. That was the plan of Siobhan Rose Coyle (nee Bishop). It was 1776 and she was determined to get her remaining sons…all that was left of a life she had started to build…on that ship. She had heard of neighbors making the voyage and starting a new life, not to mention her sister, who made the crossing from Scotland with her husband a few years ago. Before everything changed. When rumors began swirling of some countrymen being involved in a freshly signed Declaration of Independence in the American colonies, Siobhan Rose (Rose, as she was known by friends and family) felt it was a sign to head west. She wasn’t sure exactly where she would land, but getting across the ocean would be a start. In truth, Rose wanted to run away from her life entirely, but she knew that was not possible.

At 26, long gone were the fun and careless days of her youth. Of a happy life on a small farm with her family. Her father, Thomas Bishop, was an overseer of several farms in the area. Rose, with striking auburn hair and rosy cheeks, along with her sisters, were the beauties of the county. She married her sweetheart, James Coyle, at 18 and settled into life on his neighboring rented farm. James, like so many others, was a “tenant at will” and he, with his new bride, were determined to carve out a better life. The next year they welcomed their first son Patrick into the world. A few years later, twins. Life seemed idyllic. Not easy, but perfect, nonetheless. Rose dug into her new roles as a wife and mother with gusto. She loved tending her small, fragrant herb garden and enjoyed experimenting with family recipes to please her husband with good, solid meals after his long days in the field. And of course, her three little ones kept her busy the rest of her waking hours. But life changed quickly and dramatically later that year when a small but deadly wave of typhus whipped through their little slice of heaven taking her husband, mother, and two sisters in its’ wake. Beyond devastated, Rose and her sons moved back home with her father. Neither could survive without the other as they grieved through an almost insurmountable loss. And neither would ever be the same.

Thomas Bishop was a man of great character. A fair and honorable overseer, (which was not all that common), a loving husband, and devoted father. He had the opportunity granted by his position to pocket away a small nest egg, which he felt compelled to do over the years as he looked at the bevy of daughters he was raising with his wife, Maeve. He feared for their future. Life was hard. It was all he could do in addition to his nightly prayers to protect them. And he slept better for it. But following the death of his darling Maeve, and two of his four daughters, with a third far away across an ocean, he simply lost his desire to live. He loved his Rosie, and adored his grandchildren, but no longer cared for the grind of this world. Broken, without his partner, within a year, he followed his beloved Maeve in death. But he did not leave Rose without hope. She had the small safety net of savings he had gifted her. She treasured his coins, and the feeling of security it gave her. She knew she had little time to determine her next steps before an eviction from the farm. Within a month, a new overseer was due to arrive and move into their home, which was never really theirs to begin with. But Rose hardly cared, because all the love and laughter had moved out long before. It hadn’t felt like “home” in a long time. A week later, she had secured a position in town as kitchen help, which provided a room and board for her and the boys.

Life wore on, a muted shade of grey most days. She wondered if this was it. All she would ever know in life. Her kitchen position was secure and placed her near St. Patrick’s Cathedral were she regularly attended. It became a place of refuge from the sadness that rested on her chest. Father John looked upon young widow Coyle and her boys with a soft heart, and Rose felt a sense of peace seated on the cool wooden pew there, welcoming the quiet moments she could mentally escape life while her sons played with other young boys nearby.

But fate was not done dealing blows to Rose, and she suffered yet another loss when one of her twins, Matthew, went missing. After two years, and the fact that he was just two at the time, he was now presumed dead. She could barely bring herself to walk down the familiar streets of town with the constant reminder of her sweet boy running ahead and laughing around every corner. Each morning, she prayed for strength to make it through the day, and each night, dreamed of someday reuniting with her only remaining sister, Margaret, somewhere in a new land.

And so it was that Rose found herself clutching the chubby hand of Matthew’s now four-year-old twin, Thomas, while keeping a keen eye on his older brother Patrick as they walked up the rickety ramp to the ferry. The first leg of their journey was about to begin by crossing the waters to Liverpool. Boys, now days inseparable, bravely stood by her side, but clung to her skirt as well. She stared into the dark, cold waters of Dublin Bay and sent up a quick prayer for a safe journey.

Chapter 2

As the ferry made its way down the River Mersey, and the dock of Liverpool came into view, Rose quickly scanned the shore for a potential room to stay with her sons over the next 48 hours. Safely. Their ship would not be leaving for two more days. She had wanted to ensure they got to Liverpool in plenty of time to board the ship, so they left a day early. The truth was, she simply could not have waited another day to leave Dublin, Ireland, and all those painful memories behind.

A few blocks down Water Street, boys in tow with meager bags in hand, she spotted Ye Hole in Ye Wall pub. Men only, but with her boys by her side, and eye contact with the owner’s wife, Marie, communication ensued unique to women in need. Before a word was spoken, Marie knew Rose was alone with two mouths to feed, and it was quickly decided for Marie’s husband that some temporary help in the kitchen would be necessary. They were always busy right before a ship left port, and Marie could use the extra help. Rose did not argue, and was relieved to learn that Marie’s husband, being a wise man, would not either. For the next two days, Rose and her sons pitched in at the pub. Rose in the kitchen, and the boys, bussing tables, sweeping, and trying to stay out of trouble. Thomas was especially quick to learn that if a man’s pint at one of the tables began to look low, he could earn an easy coin by keeping the ale coming at just the right time. Marie’s husband Roy shook his head with a smile, as he was equally quick to spot a bright young lad. At night, Rose and her boys slept near the fire in the kitchen. Huddled together, not for warmth, but comfort. None of them ever too far away from the other.

Two days later, the remnants of the Coyle family, with a special pouch of food packed by Marie tucked into Rose’s bag, shared hugs all around and headed for the dock to board The Hector. The boys waved goodbye, and Thomas couldn’t help but feel quite manly when the coins in his pocket made an impressive clinking sound as he walked. It was quickly determined that for safety, Thomas would entrust his mother and brother to tuck some of his coins in their clothing as well… It was better not to draw unnecessary attention at the dock…or anywhere, for that matter.

But that morning, in the scramble and busyness of the port, Rose first heard stories of war in that new America, dangerously close to the port where they were due to dock, in a land governed by the British Crown. Had she known that before? That there was a war? She had purposely stayed away from the men at the pub but wondered if she had mechanically blocked out any prior knowledge of war to stay on course with the plan. HER plan. Suddenly, the timing of the voyage became an overwhelming question in her mind. Her heart wanted to escape, but her head challenged back, and quickly produced a sinking feeling in her gut. The longer she stood on that dock, the more she realized it was not just about what she wanted, but about what she needed to do for her two boys. Bringing them to the doorstep of a revolutionary war sounded pointblank crazy. And in her heart of hearts, she knew she couldn’t outrun her memories anyway…

Regrouping, she led her sons back to the street and gently broke the news. They were not going to get on the big ship that day. They had to wait for a while…and she wasn’t sure how long that wait would be. Patrick and Thomas exchanged glances and let out a collective sigh of relief. “Can we go back to Miss Marie’s” they pleaded? At that point, with her plan unraveling under her very feet, and having no idea what her next move would be, quickly acquiesced. The trio made their way back up Water Street and she sheepishly knocked on the back door of the pub that had been their home for the last few days. The door banged open, and they were greeted by a smiling, and somewhat surprised Marie. The boys, excited to be back in the manly environment of the pub rushed in for a hug. Rose held back, and shyly explained her change of plans. Marie quickly shushed her, grabbed her by the elbow, and pulled her into the kitchen.

Chapter 3: Liverpool Life

“Roy, luv…guess who’s back?” Marie shouted over her shoulder, not quite sure how to spin this new turn of events.

Roy ambled through the swinging pub doors and into the kitchen, grinned and opened his arms. The boys rushed over, and each took a side to hug as he chuckled, “miss us already, aye?” Thomas had stolen his heart over the past few days, and if Roy was being honest, he was glad to have them back. It would be crowded, but they would make room.

Rose, on the other hand, fought back feelings of despair, confusion, and futility. Her escape plan had crumbed into a million pieces. She was not used to needing help and was at a complete loss as to what to do next. She did know, however, that she did not want to become a burden to Roy and Marie. She did not want to be beholden to anyone.

“We don’t mean to intrude again,” she offered. “I just need a few minutes to... we aren’t asking to... I just need…I mean… please don’t let us disrupt your day…”

“Not good ‘nough, are we then?” Marie shot back, teasing her into rethinking the situation.

“No, no…I didn’t mean…I’m so sorry…” as tears welled up in Rose’s eyes.

With that, Roy knew it was time to clear the room as he pushed through the swinging doors and quietly withdrew to the front of the pub, taking the boys with him. He was no good at dealing with a woman’s tears. Marie was the one to talk sense into Rose now.

“Look luv, you take your time. Sit down here. Have a cuppa,” as Marie poured Rose a cup of tea, adding a splash of Irish whiskey. By then, Rose had reached her breaking point, and the tears were streaming like a dam that had collapsed.

Marie sat by, handing Rose her hanky as the tears flooded a corner of the table. Patting Rose’s shoulder, she threw in a few, “there, there’s” every minute or two.

Eventually, Rose sat back in her chair and sighed. Took a few sips, weakly smiled and offered, “this is good, thank you.”

What followed next was a heart to heart. Those discussions that women have when one or the other simply needs to bare her soul. And bare, Rose did.

Fortunately for Rose, Marie was a woman of enough years to have seen her share of life’s trials by the time Rose and her boys showed up at the backdoor of the pub. And in some of the leanest years, Marie had learned a lot about grace, because it had been shown to her.

As she regarded Rose, sipping her tea in between blowing her nose and checking the door for a sign of her boys, Marie knew this was one of those times when it was her turn to do the “grace-dispensing.” Like the good book said, “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers; for thereby some have entertained angels unawares…” or something like that… Anyway, she was pretty sure Rose was not an actual angel, but she was also quite certain that Rose’s guardian angel had led her to the doorstep of their pub.

After a good long chat, the women agreed to a deal of sorts. There was no charity offering on the table, but there was a Work for Room and Board offer there that Rose could not refuse. As Roy peeked over the top of the swinging doors into the kitchen, Marie looked up and shot him a wink. He gave her a nearly imperceptible nod and went back to working the front bar. Thomas, who had been trailing Roy, was peeking under the door and got a look at his mum, now quite composed and sipping from a cup. Feeling assured that she was okay, he shadowed Roy right back to work.

And such began a new life in the weeks that followed. A life calmed into a comfortable routine. Rose was able to not only assist Marie in the kitchen but helped expand the limited pub menu of fried fish.

Every Wednesday, she would start a gigantic fresh batch of Irish stew which quickly became a crowd favorite. And her soda bread was always on demand to the point where a few men began to ask if they could buy a loaf to take home, or stuff into their pack before boarding a ship. Some hurried baking math ensued, and Marie and Rose quickly determined it to be a good move for the business. At first, Rose worried that some women at home may not take too kindly to another woman’s baked goods showing up in their kitchen, but she soon found out they were grateful for the supplement. Between cooking, cleaning, raising children, and taking on side jobs, most were thankful for the benefit of an easy loaf, delivered by their husband. Besides that, the bread was delicious.

An uptick in pub traffic proved to be a blessing for Marie and Roy as profits increased at their little establishment. And the timing of their tenant upstairs moving to London within a year of Rose and her boys arriving on their doorstep seemed another divine opportunity by providing space for the young Coyle’s to take up residence. Rose, now with a somewhat steady income herself, gladly relocated her small family to a room on the second floor above the pub. It was a fine upgrade from a corner in the kitchen.

For the time being, the pressure was off Rose to revise her trip or make any further plans. She also knew that for any serious plans to be revived, at least two things needed to happen. One was an end to the war on the other side of the Atlantic. Another was hearing something from her sister and husband that included information on where they had decided to settle.

Meanwhile, requests began to pop up for the rhubarb and ginger jam, as well as the apple chutney that Rose made available to the pub patrons on occasion. To her, these efforts were just a way of preserving fruits for the colder months. But to those that worked on the docks or at sea, the dollops were filled with sweet memories of home. Especially when served on her Irish soda bread. It wasn’t long before Marie and Rose put their heads together and figured out a new agreement for the budding entrepreneur. True to form, the women devised a successful plan where Rose could utilize the pub kitchen in a way that would not interfere with regular pub business yet allow her the space and tools necessary to grow her new side business of canning and selling preserves.

Regulars at Ye Hole in Ye Wall, already quite fond of the boys, now valued their mother as well. Most felt a protective tug on their heart whenever they caught a glimpse of her, toiling away in the kitchen. Some tried to catch her eye, for she was still a fine-looking lass, but Rose was focused on other things. Like building a life for her and her sons. And besides, her heart was still missing her sweetheart, James Coyle. There was no room for another, with the only exception being her two boys.

Chapter 4: Boys Will Be Boys

Rose began to note early on that both of her sons were growing up fast and in fact were flourishing in Liverpool. Each of them pitched in as their talents allowed in the new life they were building, as both felt a sense of responsibility to help her support their small family.

Patrick, having an eye for the sea, was quickly made the official runner to the ships as Rose’s soda bread and biscuits had become quite famous. More than a few captains had begun to request a delivery of a dozen loaves, along with a crate of her preserves to the ship’s kitchen before leaving port. It was a six-block journey, and he was entrusted to deliver the goods and collect payment. Rose had warned her customers well that the baked goods wouldn’t last more than a handful of days before turning, but the captains and cooks already knew that. No fear of any going bad, as the loaves would be long gone within a day or two. As would most of the preserves, although the wiser captains carved out a few jars to be kept in their private quarters where they could be savored through the duration of the voyage.

Thomas, on the other hand, had an eye for the pub and another eye on his mother. He was not a mama’s boy by any means but rather bore a sense of responsibility, a need to know she was okay. Since Rose’s work took place at the pub, it was easy for him to tend to both of his interests. He spent most days glued to Roy’s side, and Roy loved every minute of it. He pitched in wherever he could and was a student of observation. He noted everything that took place in the kitchen, and the front bar.

Thomas respected the camaraderie he saw between the men at the pub, whether they worked in town, or were headed to sea. He noted the dynamics of their interaction, and the distinctions of who was a leader, and who was content to follow. Who succeeded in their schemes, and who failed. He made mental notes of it all.

From his observations, he came to a few conclusions. First, his mother seemed content. At peace. It had taken her a while to get there, but he knew she would be fine. Life in Liverpool had exposed the Coyle family to more people in general than life on a farm in the country across the bay. Thomas saw that as a widow, his mother had more opportunity in a larger city. He also saw that she was industrious and had risen to the occasion. She faced change and challenges bravely and took advantage of opportunities as they arose. He was proud of her success; her ability to not only survive but thrive these past few years. He knew he was still a child of sorts, but he felt every bit old enough to also know that he would always be there to protect her. At any cost.

Another of his observations was a realization that if he wanted to be successful in life, he needed to be one of the guys that led, not followed. Which, he had also determined, did not necessarily mean being the actual leader in every scheme or job, but sometimes merely being part of a group that was heading in the direction he wanted to go. He also had come to know that to be the kind of leader he envisioned for himself, he needed to learn how to read. In turn, he realized that he needed an education, not because he craved knowledge, but because he wanted to know more things than what he could learn at the pub. He knew there was a bigger world out there, and he wanted to see it. He determined early on that he did not want to be one of the guys who drank away his weekly wages sitting at Roy’s pub.

But schooling…would that be fair to his mum and Patrick? He felt as responsible to pitch in as anyone in his family, and all were contributing to their combined welfare.

As Rose sat by the fire mending a shirt one night, she reflected over the past few years. Not exactly what she had planned, but a step in the right direction. And she was grateful for the opportunities that had been put in front of her in Liverpool. Grateful for Marie and Roy. Grateful that her sons were healthy and even thriving in this port town. If nothing else, life was stable, for the first time in a long time.

“Mum?” Thomas interrupted. “You know how to read, don’t you?”

Rose, slightly taken aback by his line of questioning, smiled and replied, “Yes…” Her parents had made a point of all the girls learning how to read and write, along with some basic math. It was out of the ordinary, to be sure, but after it became clear that there would be no sons in the family, their father had insisted. Another layer of protection for his daughters along with the nest egg.

“Well, I think I need to learn,” he shared with a wise look far beyond his years. “I promise it won’t stop me from helping at the pub, it’s mostly busy at night anyway…but I want to learn how to read,” he proposed. “And do my sums, too,” he added.

Rose stuck her needle through some fabric for safekeeping and put her work aside. She took a long look at her young son, seated cross-legged on the floor before her as he patiently waited for her response. How had her boys gotten old enough to go to school? But they certainly had. What wasn’t certain was whether that was in the cards for them, as they clearly didn’t have the money to afford it. She leaned forward and looked him straight in the eye, “Well luv, let me talk to Roy tomorrow and we’ll see what our options might be. I think he will be right proud to know you want to go to school. But don’t get your hopes up too high, aye?” as she reached down and lovingly squeezed his arm.

“Aye, mum. And thank you…” he beamed. He got up off the floor and gave her a hug. He was simply relieved that she hadn’t shot down his request immediately. He knew they were poor. But no poorer than most folks around them. And that was the crux of it. He didn’t want them to stay that way. He had already begun saving for the future. He pinned his hope on tomorrow, and an affirmative response from Roy.

As Rose picked up her mending, she was already thinking about the charity school at the Our Lady parish on Tithebarn Street, just a block over, down by the docks. She would inquire tomorrow about the possibility of Patrick and Thomas attending. She knew Patrick would insist on going as well. Always a level of competition between the two boys even though she knew they loved each other to pieces. She guessed that was normal. Anyway, she was almost certain that Roy and Marie would be thrilled at the thought of them attending school. And she was, as well.

Chapter 5: School Days

There are book smarts, and then there are street smarts. Thomas had both. In terms of book smarts, his childhood request had been granted, and he had completed general schooling in Liverpool, along with his brother.

He had also learned every single trick in the Book of Running a Pub at the knee, and then side, of Roy, who frankly, had become the closest thing Thomas had ever known to a father. That education included sourcing ale and stronger spirits, both legally and by other means when necessary or simply more convenient.

It was Thomas’s good fortune to be favored by the merchants and sea traders who frequented the pub. They happened to be some of the highest earners in society, aside from gentry and royalty, and they not only enjoyed supporting the efforts of his mum by buying her bread and various specialty offerings, (some even bringing her an occasional supply of Irish yarn, just to see her smile) but invested in Thomas as well. And whether by his efforts to fill their pints in quick turn, share the latest news of the neighborhood, or run errands on their behalf, Thomas had been diligent to earn a reward for his services.

Over the years, Roy had encouraged Thomas in his penny-wise penchant for saving, trading out his smaller coins for larger, explaining the worth and value of each when he was young. He traded in his ha’pennies for pence, tuppence and more, eventually saving up quite a little nest egg.

Thomas had also learned and then implemented the fine art of building relationships that, as anyone in business of any kind knows, is critical to success. He seemed to have an almost uncanny ability in being able to sense who to trust, and who to be wary of. That, of course, was never apparent to any of the parties involved, which in most cases, was entirely the point. Roy could not have been more proud of him, had he been his own blood.

One spring day, an opportunity presented itself for Thomas to accompany Roy to London, while Roy tended to various family and business issues over the course of a few days. There, Thomas quickly noticed yet another accent, different from the Irish of his mum, or the scouse accent in Liverpool; a mix of Irish and Welsh reflecting those arriving and settling in the growing port town. As he observed conversations over those few days in London, he decided to adopt a few intonations that sounded more refined. After all, he was hoping to be traveling across an ocean someday and envisioned himself as a future “Man of the World” so he reasoned, he should sound like one, too.

Upon their return to Liverpool, he tried a few spins on enunciation, casually, when speaking with family. Of course he was immediately ridiculed mercilessly by this older brother, who accused him of “puttin’ on airs”, while Rose tried to hide a grin. But Thomas didn’t care, because by then, it was clear that Patrick was content to work the docks of Liverpool, and Thomas was looking to venture further abroad. Rose could only imagine what the future might hold for him.

Chapter 6: Across the Bay & A Birthday

The year was 1788 and Thomas was celebrating his 16th birthday at home, above Ye Hole in Ye Wall pub. To honor the occasion, Rose was making his favorite meal and had a surprise baking in the oven as well. Living in a port town offered advantages from time to time, and this was one of those times. There had been talk in the pub of a man at the docks from Hamburg who described a special cake that had been made for the Count Something of Somewhere-or-Another that barely fit in the oven, and there were even candles stuck in it to reflect his age. Rose figured she would leave out the candles, but Thomas was definitely getting a special cake for his special day this year.

The Coyle family invited Roy and Marie to join them, who arrived at the door with a fine bottle of wine to be shared with an equally fine meal of bread, cheese, fish, cabbage, and finally, cake. “Darlin’, this cake is the best thing to ‘er come out that ov’n!” Marie declared. Rose blushed her thanks, and everyone chimed in to agree.

“Don’t be gettin’ ideas about addin’ to your pub menu, now,” Rose teased back, to everyone’s delight. Although now that she thought of it, they could probably sell for a pretty penny, but her thoughts quickly flipped back to Thomas. She noted that as much as he seemed happy and graciously thanked her for the special meal, he didn’t seem himself. She made a mental note to keep an eye on him over the next few days.

***

Known to always have a few coins in his pocket, Thomas had a penchant for playing with a few while waiting, or pondering, or reasoning things out. It wasn’t a nervous habit, as much as a means to help him mull over whatever was before him, or behind him, or simply, on his mind.

By the time of his 16th birthday, he had saved enough to pay for the transport to Nova Scotia whenever his mother decided she was ready to go. If she still wanted to go someday…but today, he sat quietly on a barstool at the pub, flipping a coin, grappling with the events that had occurred a few days before.

He had taken the celebration of his upcoming birthday as the perfect time to spend some of his hard-earned savings and traveled by ferry from Liverpool back to Dublin. Alone. He had cleared a day off with Roy and mentioned something vague to his mum when he left that morning, stuffing a small loaf of bread inside his coat pocket on his way out the door. Rose distractedly wished him a goodbye as she rushed over to an oven to check on her latest batch of cinnamon bread. He hadn’t given any specifics about his “day” but decided that lying by omission was the best course of action in this particular instance.

The memory of his twin was never far from his mind. He may have been a wee lad at the time, but losing Matty was etched in his brain like it was yesterday. He remembered St. Patrick’s Cathedral with its quiet, calm nave and wonderfully ornate floor. And he remembered the location of the loss of his brother.

This day, he lay on the banks of the River Poddle, soaking up the noonday sun and replaying the events of that painful day fourteen years ago, over and over in his mind.

Out of the blue, he sat up, took off his shoes, and waded in. He rolled up his pantlegs and took another step. Suddenly, there was a drop-off, and he went under. He thought he could almost hear the cries of his brother and then it felt like someone, or something was wrapping itself around his ankle pulling him further under. He fought hard, broke free, and wrestled his way back to the surface.

He quickly sloshed to shore, spun around, and stared into the waters. What had just happened? Whatever it was, it wasn’t taking him too. And if that was what his brother had experienced, it was no wonder they were never able to find him. This was not something he could discuss with anyone. Certainly not his mum. She could never even hear the mention of Matty’s name without pain flashing across her face and tears immediately filling her eyes. And he knew she would panic at the thought of him back at the scene of the tragedy. How could he even explain to her why he had to visit that place. But it called to him, deep in his soul. And now, there was no one he could talk to about what he had just experienced. But it was one he would never forget.

Chapter 7: Beyond the Sea

The following spring, Rose felt the winds of change in the air when a letter arrived from her sister, Margaret, postmarked Port Haven, New Brunswick. In the letter, she learned that Margaret and her husband, Daniel Augustine had finally settled, and were planning to stay there. And that they would welcome her and the boys to join them whenever they were ready to make the trip. It was a new town, so life wasn’t easy she warned, but the possibilities were endless. There were the basic rough beginnings of a town already established, including a mayor, a general store stocked with basic merchandise, and plenty of land to farm.

Rose put the letter down on the kitchen table. She wasn’t ready to fold it back up and return it to its’ envelope. She knew she would be rereading it several times before she went to bed that night. Thomas, hearing aloud what the letter stated, now picked it up and read it for himself.

“When do you want to leave?” he asked, keeping a promise he had made to himself long ago, and excited that the time may have finally arrived. Maybe his years of saving were going to pay off! “I’ll be ready whenever you are,” he challenged, flipping a coin in the air, “my treat,” he added, with a smile.

Her first thought was to insist that he continue his schooling plans for the University of Edinburgh that fall, but she had learned of late that arguing with Thomas was utterly pointless when he had that look in his eye. And she knew that he was ready to expand his world to the other side of the Atlantic.

“Where in the world did you get all that money?” she challenged.

“Mum,” he paused, giving her a look of feigned offense, “working at the pub. Where else?” he continued with a twinkle in his eye. Indeed, she thought. But indeed, he had, as she looked back on all the years he worked that crowd. And then she recalled her father and the nest egg he had saved. Her little boy, now nearly grown, had a penchant for saving, just like her da. His granda would be so proud. She certainly was.

In July of 1789, many years after the first time they stood on the dock to depart, Rose and her son Thomas were ready yet again, to board The Hector. But this time, Patrick had decided to stay behind and continue in the life he had built working those docks, and going home to his new bride, Charlotte in a small apartment they rented above the pub. Charlotte had been a quick study to pick up Rose’s baking and preserves business, which made leaving Roy and Marie a tad easier for everyone as the time of departure neared.

Marie and Roy, now considered family, were every bit as dear to the heart as blood relation. The kind of family that evolves when people share life together. Especially when trials of life are woven into the mix, and not much would surpass the trial of life Rose had found herself in as a young widow with two little boys, all those years ago. So, this time, there were more than just polite hugs and good wishes as they got ready to board. This time, none were spared the shedding of a few tears, and several rounds of hugs and promises to write ensued before Rose and Thomas walked up to the ship. But as sad as the goodbyes had been, there was excitement in the air as well.

Rose, ready for a new adventure, turned and waved goodbye again to her eldest son, and hooked elbows with her youngest. Thomas, more man than boy now, could hardly contain his excitement at the thought of a new world to conquer. No longer the little boy who had clung to his mum’s skirt on the ferry that first day they left for Liverpool. No, now he was a young, educated man, with more than a few pound notes folded safely in his pocket, along with his coins. He knew he would miss his brother like none other, not to mention the surrogate father he had found in Roy, but Thomas also shared his mother’s heart for change.

Most of their shipmates were small families hoping for a fresh start and a bright future, just like they were, and excitement was electric as the ship began to move. But within hours, that excitement had faded, and soon after clearing St. George’s Channel, many quickly found that seasickness was going to be the biggest challenge to face until they were on dry land again. Others tried to comfort them, but as the days wore on, ultimately took breaks to spend time on deck, enjoying, and tasting the salty sea air as they dreamed big dreams of a new life in a new land. Thankfully, both Coyle’s proved seaworthy.

Five weeks into their voyage weather took a turn and slowed progress. The rocking of the sea and creaking of the ship was almost unbearable at times for some, and with no experience on water of that size, fear was undeniable for all. When the weather calmed and the days dragged on, the sea allowed Rose no escape from the tedium, or her memories of Ireland. She purposefully reminded herself of her proven success in Liverpool and told herself she would do just fine in a new town. She read and reread her latest letters from sister Margaret, carefully tucking them back deep into her skirt pocket while praying to see the shoreline soon.

Thomas, ever watchful of his mum, still enjoyed going up to the main deck to observe the stars on occasions. He had studied a bit before their departure, noting their positions, identifying Orion’s Belt and Ursa Major (the Plough, as it was known in Liverpool), as well as a few other constellations. He knew where the stars were placed at different times of the year in the Liverpool sky at night and looked forward to seeing that same night sky in New Brunswick. The thought that Patrick, Roy, and Marie would still see the same stars he saw brought comfort to him in those moments when his heart still lived in Liverpool.

As the miles between the ship and the shores of Dublin and Liverpool grew further away, memories of Matty persisted in the hearts and minds of both Rose and Thomas. Neither could shake the feeling that they were leaving him behind, but both knew there was nothing else to be done for him by staying on that side of the Atlantic.

Nine weeks after leaving their room above the pub, Pictou Harbor came into view.

Chapter 8: Welcome to Port Haven

Dry land, and the long-awaited reunion of sisters Rose and Margaret was every bit as sweet as imagined. And her brother-in-law, Daniel Augustine, was the same wonderful gentleman Rose remembered. They were downright astounded to see how grown up their nephew Thomas was, and Thomas, having never met his aunt and uncle before, felt an immediate rush of comfort and happiness when he saw his mother’s face beaming with joy at the reunion.

As they shared a meal of stew and a pint at an inn that evening, they learned that Daniel’s brother Samuel and his wife had been quite involved with the recent founding of the town of Port Haven and were now owners of the general store there. Daniel had already been on a few buying trips to secure additional merchandise for the store, which piqued Thomas’s interest immediately. Before retiring at the end of what was a most momentous day, Rose took a moment to look back across the port waters and blew a kiss to those she had left behind. Thomas, ever watchful, made sure she was tucked in and sleeping before lying down by the fire to rest himself. He had already taken his own private moment to look at the stars and say goodnight to those that would always have a place in his heart.

The following morning, the extended family kicked off the next leg of their journey. On to Port Haven. The week-long trip was not easy, but joyous, nonetheless. Along the road, sisters caught up on all that did not fit into intermittent letters over the past many years, and Daniel did his best to take Thomas under his wing. It quickly became clear that Thomas was not in the market for another father figure, but even so, Daniel found Thomas to be quite polite and impressive in his knowledge and insight for someone his age. He seemed interested in Daniel’s buying trips, so that was a point of discussion for several miles of their journey. Maybe a common bond could be formed after all.

Finally, Port Haven was on the horizon. They pulled into town, and as Rose stepped into The Point General for the first time, she felt she had arrived home. Within minutes, she was deep in conversation comparing the benefits of various herbs for headaches with Lena Augustine, Samuel’s wife, who ran the store. Her darling daughter, Susanna paid close attention to every detail as she hugged her well-loved rag doll and sized up the new customer. Moments later, Thomas entered, and all eyes turned in his direction. A strapping young man of considerable height by this time, he was hard not to notice. Susanna shifted the doll to her other hip, gave it a squeeze, and watched him intently. She liked him. He smiled at her, and she shyly dropped her gaze to the floor. His smile turned to a grin, and he took in the rest of his new surroundings as he strode around the shop, mentally taking inventory of what was available, and what was not. He noted there was plenty of shelf space, but not a wide variety of merchandise available…yet.

The very next week, Rose began officially working at The Point General on a fairly regular basis, taking to retail like a duck to water. Margaret was there so often, she was frequently mistaken for an employee, but Daniel preferred that she confine her employ to their home. She understood but spent plenty of time at the store for one reason or another.

Rose and Thomas knew everyone in the young and bustling town within a quick few weeks’ time. She discovered co-founding members of Port Haven, Elijah and Rebecca Landry to be particularly wonderful. As neighbors, Rose was pleased to feel that Rebecca had the makings of a fine new friend.

The same could not be said however, for her impression of Cyrus Goodwin, another founder, who also served as the first and current Mayor of Port Haven. He certainly ran the town, but she didn’t get the feeling that justice for all prevailed under his leadership. She quickly found it increasingly unsettling as he took it upon himself to visit the Augustine homestead unannounced, quite frequently. Rose was nearing her 40th birthday, but still a beauty, and no stranger to the feeling of an unwanted set of eyes on her. She guessed Goodwin to be in his mid-twenties, and bit too full of himself, with no apparent care or concern in his utter lack of etiquette. The position he held had clearly gone to his head. But her sister and brother-in-law seemed steadfast in their commitment to welcome him whenever he darkened their door, as did the Landry’s, she observed as she stood on the Augustine front porch. She hoped Thomas would stay on his good side, if he had one. She noted, now that she gave it a moment of thought, Thomas seemed to appear whenever Goodwin visited, almost serving as her unofficial sentry. It seemed he had picked up on the unwelcome attention paid to his mother as well. She knew she could take care of herself, but didn’t mind his presence, at all.

***

As it turned out, Rose’s business in Liverpool was easily transferable to Port Haven. She began by preserving local fruits and vegetables and was able to expand her offering using her knowledge of herbs, first honed at the farm where she was raised in Ireland. Her skills were a clear benefit to the range of inventory offered on the shelves at The Point General, and Thomas made it a mission to keep those specific products well stocked, as they represented income for the Coyle family of two.

Rose had the opportunity to discuss the possibility of subletting a small corner of the Landry farm to ensure specific produce would be available for canning in future seasons, and terms were quickly decided. Expanding the inventory offering at the store benefited the entire community, and Elijah was more than happy to contribute to that end. He knew his land produced a fine yield, and he also knew that Rose and Thomas were in need of a revenue stream, so it seemed a winning opportunity for all.

As the weeks flew by, Rebecca, now expecting her first child, often visited the store in preparation for their new addition, and Rose shared in her excitement. Their friendship deepened when a few months later, in early 1790, Rebecca lost her firstborn. A son. Rebecca, consumed in grief, was nearly inconsolable. As Rose tried to comfort her friend, memories of sixteen years prior came flooding back. She knew exactly what Rebecca was experiencing all too well.

Chapter 9: Misty Water Colored Memories

Rose rolled the memories over and over in her mind. How could her sweet boy be there one minute, and utterly vanish the next? How could she ever reconcile what happened that day? That dreadful day in 1774 when Matthew disappeared.

They were all there. All four of them. She, with her three boys; her only remaining family. She was gathering herbs on the banks of the River Poddle near their modest room in Dublin. Patrick was distracted by a toad and went on the chase. The twins were playing quietly on a blanket she had set out with a few wooden toys.

When she turned to round them up, Thomas sat alone. She asked where Matthew was, and Thomas pointed to the river. Rose began to panic, and Thomas began to cry. There was no sign of Matthew. She ran to it, jumped in, and frantically began to search for him. As Thomas stepped in to “hep” her, she screamed at him to stay on shore. Now, feeling even more anxious, he cried louder which didn’t help her ability to concentrate or make any sense of what was happening against the absolute panic rising in her chest.

Hearing the voices, Patrick came running to the riverbank and, in an effort to be the Man of the House, ordered Thomas to stop crying and began to step into the water to assist his mother. Again, she shrieked, “Stay on the bank!” as Patrick suddenly felt every bit the mere five years old that he was, and tears began to spring up in his eyes as well.

Finally, after what were hours of a heart-breaking search, she dragged herself out of the water, completely spent. By that time, many townsfolk had joined her, and all had been pushing back the fear of not finding little Matty. Looking up at St. Patrick’s Cathedral, she fell to her knees in prayer as tears streamed down her face.

The days that followed were every bit as painful as watching her husband die earlier that year. Neighbors continued to search, and friends brought food to their little room for weeks on end, trying to comfort her and her young ones, but all she felt was an empty hole. And all she saw were two young boys, looking at her for direction. It was then that her plan to leave Dublin was born.

She shivered for a moment as her mind snapped back to 1790 Port Haven at the sound of Thomas stomping through the door, shaking mud off his boots. Her hopes of him steering clear of Goodwin had not come to pass. It seemed Cyrus was everywhere, and she found herself almost hoping Thomas would decide to continue with his education at a university, away from Port Haven. Or at least, go on another trip to source merchandise for the store with Daniel.

But even as she had those thoughts, she dreaded him being far away from her. She knew she depended on him too much, but he never seemed to mind. She was so proud of her boy. He was devoted to her, much like his father had been. A voracious reader. Deep thinker. Quick to read others well. Again, like his father. Between Roy, during their Liverpool years, and now his uncle Daniel in Port Haven, Thomas had the opportunity of watching and interacting with men that she truly admired. And she was thankful for that. He was a survivor, and he viewed the world as his oyster. But at that moment, he was hungry, and it was time for her to prepare a meal.

Chapter 10: Port Haven - 1790

Crisp winds blew the final autumn leaves to the ground as Rebecca Landry took a lonely walk to the pond. It had been just a few months since she lost her baby boy. She took the path frequently now, where she could mourn her loss privately. Without the well-meaning efforts at comfort from others. Without anyone pitying her tears. Without the utter exhaustion of forcing and then maintaining a smile. And besides, there was a rock at the water’s edge to sit on, which almost felt comfortable to her now. It was her new home, away from home.

By early November, Rose realized she hadn’t seen her friend in over a week, and that was unusual. Mourning was a hard road, and different for everyone. Rose understood that better than most and had wanted to give Rebecca space to grieve, but her concern now outweighed thoughts of allowing her friend privacy any longer. She was going to visit.

The next morning, Rose packed up a basket of freshly baked cinnamon muffins and marched over to the Landry farm. Elijah answered the door with an awkward greeting. He didn’t seem to want to let her in, but she brushed past him and insisted on seeing her friend as she handed off the basket to him, knowing it was his favorite. She quickly found Rebecca, sitting by the fireplace with a young boy. Rebecca hastily rose from the chair and stood between her and the boy with a nervous welcome. Rose almost thought she saw a flash of fear in her eyes. She greeted her friend with a warm smile and glanced at the boy. “Who’s your friend?” she gently asked.

Rebecca quietly said, “Jacob. He’s staying with us for a while.” Jacob looked at Rose and back to Rebecca. Rebecca nodded, as if to tell Jacob it was okay. And it was.

***

The conversation between mother and son at the Coyle cottage that evening was one of the strangest they ever shared. Thomas had been concerned about his mother’s connection to Rebecca after the death of her son, which had undoubtedly triggered memories for his mother. It had triggered memories for Thomas too. He had been quietly watching both women since the death of the Landry baby and had even followed Rebecca to the pond several times, afraid she may literally drown herself in her sorrow.

But the last night he followed her, he thought he saw her cradling something, or someone, wet… on the rock. And after Rose shared the news of her visit with the Landry’s earlier that day, Thomas could only come to one conclusion. That was what Rebecca was holding in her arms at the pond. A cold and wet little boy. What was his name, again? Jacob?

But where did he come from, out of the pond? His mind raced remembering the pull of the River Poddle and secretly wondered if it was possible, in some crazy universe, that this newfound boy could be his brother, Matty. But of course, his mother would have recognized him. Unless he was…a changeling? Everyone had heard of tales of changelings in Ireland, and for that matter, in Liverpool, too. He had never believed in that sort of thing, but on the other hand, he couldn’t explain where this new boy came from.

The next day, Thomas decided to pay a visit to the Landry’s. He had to see for himself. He could use the excuse of checking on his mum’s crops if nothing else. He found Elijah out in the field and stopped to greet him as he surveyed the landscape. And there he was. This new boy, Jacob, just outside the front door within arm’s reach of Rebecca. Thomas strode on and shouted a greeting.

Rebecca, hesitant but with no other recourse, greeted him and protectively touching Jacob’s shoulder, shared, “This is Jacob. He’ll be staying with us for a while…”

Thomas, bending at the waist, formally reached out with a handshake, looked straight into his big blue eyes and said, “Pleasure to meet you, Jacob.”

To which, Jacob replied, “Pleasure to meet you…too…” and after a beat or two, smiled back at Thomas with a strange feeling of calm. He hoped to see Thomas again.

Thomas knew immediately, he was not looking into the eyes of his long-lost brother. Or a changeling, for that matter. But behind those mischievous blue eyes, was a smart and interesting mind, and Thomas instantly felt a connection. He had no idea why but was more than intrigued and willing to invest some time to find out.

He turned back to Rebecca and asked, “Has Jacob been to town yet? Has he met Susanna?” He could almost see the wheels begin to turn in her head as she realized that Jacob would eventually need to see other people. Safe people. Friends. Elijah and Rebecca had already decided they were determined to protect Jacob from too much talk and speculation around town, but a friend close to his age might be found in that shy little girl. No threat there she thought…Susanna hardly spoke at all.

Chapter 11: Founding Family Ties that Bind

Lena Augustine worked at The Point General tirelessly and fostered new relationships with settlers (and potential new customers) coming to town in droves. It just made sense for Susanna to spend more time at the Landry farm in those days. She was out of the way of the hustle and bustle of the store, and besides, she had fun with Jacob…and Thomas, for that matter. It was almost like gaining two new brothers, and Susanna appreciated the companionship of Jacob, which was simply not the case with everyone. She was fairly particular in the company she kept for one so young.

Within a few months, it became common knowledge that Rebecca was expecting again, and frankly, she enjoyed having a little more activity around the farm. It helped her keep her mind off things, like the health of her unborn child. And she was also able to keep an eye on how Jacob was adapting to his life on the farm, interactions with others, and his overall countenance. She could see a definite change in him when he met Susanna. They were soon like two peas in a pod, and both Rebecca and Lena were relieved to see the connection.

Thomas was never far away. He kept an eye on his mother, whether at the store or otherwise, as much as any son Rebecca had ever seen. She hoped to experience that bond someday, but meanwhile, Jacob had almost immediately allowed her to fill the role of mother and showed no signs of looking for his real home, wherever that may be. And for that, she was grateful.

Spring of 1791 shown bright with hope one sunny day as Rose, Margaret and Rebecca were visiting on the porch at the Landry farm. Margaret had just shared the news that they too, were expecting. It was their first child, finally! Both Margaret and Daniel had begun to worry about their lack of success in starting a family, so the relief was palpable. Another Augustine was expected in the new year. A cousin for Susanna.

Just then, a honeybee began to insist on joining the conversation. At first, annoyed, the women took turns gently swatting it away. But then Rose, with her entrepreneurial mind never stopping, blurted out, “how hard would it be to set up some hives for a bee colony?”

Rebecca slowly rose from her rocking chair, rubbed her growing belly, and looking out over the land, ventured, “if we can start up a town, we can start up a bee colony!”

She turned to look back at Rose and Margaret, and the three burst out laughing. Of course, they could! There was a small plot next to Rose’s Garden that Elijah hadn’t yet allocated to any official planting plan. Perfect.

Moments later, Thomas and Jacob came moseying up the path, deep in conversation. As they reached the porch, they were promptly brought up-to-speed on the new plan and instructed to set up a few stakes in the ground to serve as a prop for the women, ready to pitch their new idea to Elijah when he returned from town. They were already envisioning beehives on the empty patch of land, and jars of honey on the shelves of their respective kitchens as well as the store. Thomas looked over at his mum and shook his head, then turned and shrugged at Jacob, who shrugged back with a knowing side glace and grin as they carried stakes and a hammer out into the yard. They already knew that Elijah didn’t stand a chance. There would be a bee colony on the Landry farm one day, and soon.

Later that night, Thomas lay outside on the grass, gazing up at the stars. His mum never ceased to amaze him. And he wondered, what were the odds of him ever finding a woman like that to marry someday. Slim to none was his guess, but he held out hope that one day, he would come face to face with a woman as strong and determined and loving as Rose.

Spring turned to summer, and the establishment of the new honey business was beginning to take shape at the Landry Farm. Jacob was busy doodling out some label ideas for the honey jars. He thought Haven Honey had a nice ring to it.

Thomas swung in to see if Rebecca wanted anything not currently available at The Point. He was going to accompany his uncle Daniel on a buying trip to procure new merchandise for the store and Rose thought that as long as they were going, they could bring back a few specialty items for the buyer’s families and close friends. With Margaret now expecting their much anticipated first child, Daniel had a lengthy list from her already, safely folded in his pocket.

“Designing for the new business?” Thomas inquired, looking at the artwork on the table. Jacob gave a “yep” without lifting his head, so deep in artistic thought he could hardly be bothered with conversation, even with his good friend. Thomas grinned and made a mental note; paper, pencils, ink…he knew his mum’s favorite candy, and was already planning to keep an eye out for a book. Susanna loved to read. She really was quite extraordinary for a young girl.

Chapter 12: Births, Anniversaries & a New Year

As August arrived, so did the birth of Elijah and Rebecca’s new baby, William. What a gift to the couple that now considered themselves double-blessed.

A few weeks later marked the 1-year anniversary of Rose and Thomas arriving in Port Haven. Neither could believe that much time had passed so quickly, and both were amazed at how much had been accomplished in that short amount of time.

As the leaves fell later that fall, so did the night of the anniversary of Jacob’s unexpected arrival. No one spoke about it to mark the occasion, but everyone remembered. Thankfully, Jacob’s days were filled with so much activity the milestone didn’t seem to affect him. A new baby in the house, new responsibilities in the field with Elijah, and a new honeybee business kept him busy. He had been put in charge of counting the jars that went to the store and usually accompanied Thomas on the delivery.

They often returned with Susanna and Rose, who spent plenty of time in Rose’s Garden together. Susanna was quite interested in learning about the herbs growing there and what they could be used for. Rose, having raised only boys, thoroughly enjoyed spending time with the young girl, so polite and inquisitive. Rose could sense she was quite clever. Quiet, but clever. Her mind just soaking in knowledge that Rose was more than happy to share. If Jacob were free, he often joined them. Rose could see a sweet bond had formed between her two young companions and was happy for both to be able to enjoy such a friendship.

Christmas that year was full of comfort and joy to all the new settlers in Port Haven. And to ring in 1792, Margaret and Daniel Augustine welcomed their firstborn. A son, Elias. The future looked bright, indeed!

Chapter 13: Dublin - 1976

Evelyn Bishop, soon-to-be Goodwin planned to use her last year of freedom traveling with a gaggle of girls, well actually, new graduates of Brown University. “European Tour” were the words blocked out on her calendar with the first few weeks sightseeing through Great Britain. Few details were determined, but shopping Dandelion Market and catching some live music was certainly on the agenda as the trip began in Ireland. In general, their tentative plan was simply to visit lots of castles and pubs and be open to whatever took their fancy.

The day arrived when Dublin Castle and St. Patrick’s Cathedral seemed the logical choice, and the girls set out to explore. After lunch, they took a leisurely walk down the River Poddle. Some kept strolling, but a few rested on the banks of the river. Evelyn laid back and let the sun beam down on her. Warmed by the day, she drifted off for just a moment and then suddenly, jolted back to full awareness as she thought she heard a baby cry. She sat up and looked around. Nothing. But she heard it again and rose to her feet. More like a toddler, she wondered. She followed the now soft sobbing and spotted him.

A little boy, dressed in clothes that looked like they came out of a high school musical of “Oliver!” She slowly approached, asking if he was okay. He looked at her and as she smiled at him, his now whimpering began to slow. She inched closer and whispered calming words, sprinkled with terms of endearment. He finally smiled at her and stood up. “Are you lost, honey? Where’s your mum?” she asked.

He nodded and said, “I lost…”

By that time, the other girls had begun to gather around, and it was quickly agreed they needed to take this lost boy to a shelter or church. Somewhere, frantic parents were undoubtedly looking for him. Maybe someone at St. Patrick’s would know where he belonged. The group took turns trying to console the little boy as they walked back to the cathedral, but he only had eyes for Evelyn. She ended up carrying him most of the way.

Unfortunately, Father David had no idea who Evelyn held in her arms. When she finally coaxed a few more words from her new charge, he mumbled his name, “Matty,” and laid his head on her shoulder. Well, that should help the search for his parents was the immediate consensus, as the girls breathed a bit of a sigh of relief, even as Evelyn fought back unfounded feelings of an enormous need to protect him.

Father David recommended placing Mathew in an orphanage while things were sorted out and took over temporary custody as he saw the girls were in no position to handle the situation. It seemed the only logical thing to do. Evelyn and the rest of the girls shared hugs and goodbyes with little Matty and slowly walked back out onto the street.

A few days later they moved on with their travel plans, next stop – Liverpool. This was a big bucket mark on Evelyn’s list, having fallen in love with Paul McCartney at the age of 6 when the Beatles appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show. Her family lived in the States at the time, and she still remembered sitting cross-legged on the floor, three feet in front of the television set, glued to the lads from Liverpool in beautiful black and white. Especially Paul. She even took out a map trying to determine the distance between New York and Liverpool, and how long it might take to get there on a ship, versus a plane. But since she couldn’t drive, and didn’t have money to fly, she settled for buying their albums and cutting up fan magazines to decorate her bedroom walls. Now an adult, Evelyn, and the girls were going to hear some live music in the place where it all began on their first night in town. The only logical choice.

As they looked out the window of their hotel room and evening was approaching, the sun beautifully reflected on the Mersey River. Evelyn took in the view, which included the docks, still busy with shipyard traffic.

“Hey, Evie, didn’t one of your long-lost relatives come from Liverpool?” Sally asked.
“Oh, yeah!” Evelyn replied. “My mom told me years ago that her great-great-great aunt…or maybe more “greats”…not sure…anyway, she was widowed, and moved here with her kids before coming to Port Haven. She was actually from Dublin.”

Sally, intrigued by the story asked, “Where did she live here? Should we try to find the place?”

“Oh, I think she lived above a pub, supposedly the oldest one in Liverpool…” Evelyn replied and even as she said the words aloud, all the girls were thinking the same obvious thought, “Well! We know where we’re having our first pint of the night!” was the unanimous response amid gales of laughter.

A few questions from the concierge on their way out for the evening, and the girls were headed for Ye Hole in Ye Wall pub, literally a few hundred feet away from their final destination, the Cavern Club on Mathew Street.

Once inside, the boisterous group soon settled at a table and couldn’t help but contemplate the life of Evie’s ancestor there. The wood was dark and richly polished after years of use. The bar itself, impressive. The windows with a frosted yellow hue provided just enough light to cast a warm glow. Evelyn could imagine life there, nearly 200 years ago, looking very much like it does now. Only life would have been harder.

The pints arrived and Evelyn exclaimed, “Slainte!” as she took a big swig. Suddenly, she felt a melancholy that she couldn’t explain, “She was Irish,” she noted, “my ancestor…I’m Irish,” as her thoughts wandered back across the River Mersey to Dublin and the little boy she found by the river.

“Slainte!” the gang replied, and Evelyn brushed aside the sadness as they finished off their pints. Onward to the Club for a night of music, laughter, and a few poses with a statue of John.

As their second day in Liverpool came to a close, Evelyn couldn’t keep thoughts of little Matty from her mind. And how it seemed like he could step right into Ye Hole in Ye Wall 200 years ago, and be right at home… She decided to change plans and check back with the orphanage. She could hook up with the group in a few days in London. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed her but hoped against hope that he had been reunited with his family by now.

When she arrived, she learned that sadly, nobody was missing a 2-year-old son named Matthew. She peeked in to see if he was okay, and he spotted her immediately. His face lit up like a Christmas tree and he ran towards her with open arms as she felt her heart melt into a big puddle of love. She only visited for a few minutes but promised to come back as his bottom lip began to tremble. Once back out on the street, she asked herself why in the world she would do such a thing. She didn’t make promises she couldn’t keep.

By the time the trip was coming to an end in the city of lights, Evelyn knew there was only one thing to do. She was going to adopt Matty. Or at least be his benefactor. She waved goodbye to her girlfriends at Charles de Gaulle airport as they flew home, and she headed back to Dublin. As it turned out, adoption for an orphan in Ireland would prove to be relatively easy. Convincing her fiancé would be another matter. But Evelyn knew that Charles Goodwin was a good man, with a generous heart. And he loved her.

Additionally, as one of the founding families of Port Haven, with significant wealth, the Goodwin’s were expected to be generous to the less fortunate. Well, that was what she told herself anyway.

As it turned out, she was half-right. Charles would agree to be the benefactor of little Matty, but the child was to remain in Ireland where he would be well cared for. Evelyn would be free to visit him at least four times a year.

She agreed, even as she knew in her heart that Colton Landry would have welcomed that little boy into their future home with open arms. But Colton had fallen in love with some girl he met in the Carolinas. From what everyone said, she was a raven-haired beauty. Lingermore would be Evelyn’s consolation prize.

Chapter 14: A New Century

Port Haven 1800

As Thomas continued his travels, his experiences led him on adventures far beyond Port Haven, and far beyond the wildest dreams of the boy he had been on that first trip across the bay to Liverpool. But as much as he enjoyed traveling, he continued to take his greatest pleasure in bestowing the special people in his life with small gifts and trinkets from his travels upon his return.

He also reaped some unexpected benefits from his generosity as the artistic talents of Jacob had continued to grow. A few years prior, Jacob made a point of sketching Thomas for Rose, and the portrait now hung in her bedroom. He had also sketched Susanna, Elijah, Rebecca, William and Jacob Jr. He was quite prolific and was currently working on plans for the new lighthouse in town. Jacob was always willing to lend his artistic gifting wherever it could be used. Especially if it shed a bright light on the Landry name. In fact, he always felt like he should do more for Elijah and Rebecca, sometimes even ending up on the wrong side of the law. But the law was relative in Port Haven, depending on who had work. And if Thomas was involved, the two of them made a solid team. That was the case, more often than not.

On his last trip, Thomas brought his mother, Rose a new warm shawl with her favorite colors. A burnt orange that reminded him of the color of her hair when she was younger, along with a charcoal grey, and cream plaid. Her face glowed with the excitement of a schoolgirl as the paper fell to the ground the day she unwrapped it, and he rarely saw her without it these days. She always seemed to be chilled.

Susanna, now a young woman with a considerable artistic aptitude herself, preferred paint over charcoal, and still loved reading the newest fiction published. Adding to her collection of brushes, paint and books were easy gifts for Thomas to acquire on his travels. He almost thought of her as a little sister. Sometimes an annoyance, but mostly, a dear. And she had formed quite a bond with his mum over the years, which Thomas appreciated, especially when he traveled. She was strong. A survivor. They shared those traits. He especially admired her these days, watching how easily she had taken over the store after losing her mother the year before. Honestly, Thomas was amazed that she hadn’t fallen in love with Jacob by now. They spent an enormous amount of time together after meeting all those years ago, sharing secrets that only they understood. But then again, Jacob hadn’t fallen in love with her either. Their friendship seemed to be platonic, strong and steadfast.

The concern now, for any who cared about Susanna, was her father. Already worrying about who she would marry, there was speculation that he planned to pledge her to Goodwin. Nobody who truly cared for her wanted to see that happen. He was also keeping Thomas and Jacob quite busy, and if he was being honest, Thomas sometimes felt the offers had a silent Sword of Damocles hanging over the opportunity. Barely hidden blackmail. The dynamics of which were getting increasingly complicated to suss out.

***

In early spring, the mail was finally delivered, and Rose received a letter from Liverpool, sent by Marie. In it, she gently informed Rose of her eldest son’s passing. Patrick had met with an untimely death in a freak accident on the dock in Liverpool. A friend from the dock, Winston Lennon had shared with Marie that Patrick’s death was quick. He had not suffered. Charlotte planned to stay in Liverpool with Roy and Marie and sent her love.

The news shook Rose to the core. She remembered her father, Thomas Bishop, after he lost his wife and two of his daughters…the same time she lost her sweetheart, James to typhus back in Ireland. The grief they shared was indescribable, and she found herself pulled back into that painful place. She saw her eldest in her mind’s eye, standing on the dock in Liverpool, waving goodbye. The last time she ever saw her brave son. Her Paddy. She remembered his birth, and life with James on the farm. She was so happy, so naïve in those days. And now he was gone, too. And her little Matty…gone so many years…

Thomas, heartsick over the loss of his big brother, couldn’t help but notice that his mother had withdrawn in her grief for what seemed to be a very long time. Eventually, as he could, he tried his usual charm to make her smile, but to no avail. Gifts no longer seemed to resonate with her aside from a forced, polite show of gratitude. She lost interest in all her projects and kept mostly to her room.

Finally, as the year closed, Rose had slowed to a pace of that of a clock that could no longer be wound. Much like her father, she had lost her will to live. She knew Thomas would be fine without her. He was enmeshed in so many businesses and interests, she hadn’t felt responsible for his well-being in a very long time. He was a grown man, who had been taking care of her for many years. She also knew he was surrounded by people who cared about him like family, and she was just too tired to go on. Her final concern, like most parents, was that someday, he would find someone to love. A match for that intelligent, thoughtful, charming son of hers. It was her last prayer as she snuggled in her bed, wrapped in her favorite shawl. And there that night, she passed to the next world.

Chapter 15: Port Haven - 1992

Evelyn Bishop-Goodwin finally decided to dig in and sort through the reams of papers and historical documents stacked in the library of Lingermore following the death of her husband. Cancer had taken a quick toll on Charles after a two-year battle. Some days she was a bit lonely, but frankly, not that often.

They had been married fifteen years, and she really didn’t mind being a fairly young widow. She had her freedom back and had already planned another extended trip to Europe to see Matty. He was eighteen now and didn’t really appreciate being called “Matty” anymore, but he allowed the only woman he had ever known as a mother, that luxury. He was fully entrenched in his studies at the University of Edinburgh.

Charles and Matthew had never been close, so the only thing that had changed upon the death of Charles, was Matthew’s last name. She had finally been able to give him the official name of Goodwin, and she had wasted no time in doing so.

Her thoughts circled back to the project at home. She supposed after so many years and considering the Goodwin involvement as a founding family of Port Haven, that it made sense there were so many documents in the house, but she wondered if some could be moved elsewhere. Or at least boxed up and stored somewhere.

She began her exploration of endless lists, certificates, awards, agreements, letters…and sketches? Hmmm. Not professionally done, but quite good. Who was an artist in the family, she wondered. There was never any mention of that, but then she remembered the painting, “My Katherine” that hung above the fireplace. Maybe it was the same person.

As she shuffled through the stack of charcoal sketches, she suddenly froze. A sketch of a young man named “Thomas,” according to the title at the top of the page as the rest of the stack fell from her hand to the floor. Her brain quickly scanned the artist’s signature in the lower right-hand corner. “Jacob L.”, and under that, the year “1798.”

What an odd coincidence, that there was a Jacob in 1798 with the last initial “L”…could that be for Landry she wondered as she stared back at the face of “Thomas” …the spitting image of her son, Matty. Who was Thomas? The eyes, nose, mischievous grin, cut of the jawline, waves of hair…it was her Matty. But it couldn’t be. It looked like his twin from another place and time. Chills ran down her spine as she gazed out the window in disbelief.

Chapter 16: The Heart of the Matter

Thomas was warily waiting near the pond, pistol in hand. There were many angles at play these days, and a good amount of money to be made. The pond was always a bit of a mystery to him after Jacob was found there so many years ago…and after his own experience at the River Poddle…it left his mind swirling. In a strange way, the pond always felt familiar to him but her couldn’t quite explain it. Regardless, it was a place he could get away and ponder things, and it proved a private enough spot to bathe on occasion. Suddenly, a SPLASH and somebody or something burst from the water startling him, and he shot. A little off target, but he nicked whatever or whoever it was…

***

It had been several weeks since Katherine had first surfaced in 1814 and been inadvertently shot by Thomas. Since that time, Susanna had worked a miracle and saved her from sepsis, Jacob had returned from his mission, been captured by Cyrus’s men, tortured, rescued, and at the hands of Susanna and the voice of his insistent sister, nursed back to health. Through all of this, Kat’s arrivals and departures could only be proven by literally watching her disappear into the pond and return again sometime later. And he had. He’d spent hours and even days sitting by the pond, flipping his coins, contemplating, waiting, and ultimately witnessing these comings and goings with his own eyes…the story must be true. She was a time traveler. He had seen for himself when her little brother Jacob had “arrived” that night so many years ago. He remembered how awkwardly Rebecca and Elijah had tried to hide him at first, and then carefully allowed others into their little corner of the world. He had seen the trauma in Jacob’s eyes back then; could almost feel his bewilderment, along with a peculiar feeling of familiarity to the then-child that he couldn’t explain. An odd matter of the heart, to be sure.

And now, here was Katherine, from a time 200 years in the future. She was like no woman he had ever met. Well, almost no woman. Her fierce determination and resourcefulness reminded him of his mother, no doubt. Which is why at first, he felt compelled to grant her latitude to prove herself out, even though she had utterly confounded him. But prove herself, she did. Along the way, he had come to admire her, and her unending fortitude to restore what had been lost to her family. Ultimately, he realized he had simply fallen completely in love with her. In fact, he couldn’t imagine life without her. A woman who lived in a different time. And it was in this space he found himself pondering, considering, and debating inside the few moments his brain wasn’t juggling survival plans and protecting those he loved. How did this pond transport people through time? Could he possibly follow her? Was his twin somewhere, alive, living his life in another time, like Jacob had done all those years? Matthew’s body was never recovered…

Chapter 17: Meet You at the Point Café

“What can I get you today?” Alice inquired of the new, handsome customer standing across the counter from her. He looked to be about her mom’s age…and for some reason, flustered her.

“The closest thing you have to espresso, please,” he replied with an almost mischievous smile, sensing the girl’s discomposure.

“Coming right up!” she replied as he swiped his card through the reader. “New in town?” she offered.

“In a way,” he replied with a coy smile. By now, Alice was entirely intrigued.

“Well, welcome to Port Haven…I’m Alice…Alice Dhawan...Del Landry’s granddaughter,” as she stuttered her way through an attempt at an introduction.

“Matthew, Mathew Goodwin, at your service, ma’am,” was his smooth reply, as he was barely able to keep from laughing, but didn’t want to embarrass her any more than she already seemed to be.

“Oh! So, are you Casey’s dad?”

“Why, yes! I am!” was the reply. Alice could hardly wait for the conversation to conclude so she could report back to her mom and Del that the Goodwin heir had finally surfaced.

The ding of the bell at the door announced another customer. Alice looked up, saw her mom, and smiled. As Kat approached the counter, she paused for a moment and clutched her stomach as her eyes absorbed the back of the man Alice was waiting on. As he turned, she was within a few feet of him, and seeing his profile, barely whispered the question, “Thomas?” before falling in a near faint. Matthew lunged forward to save her from hitting the floor straight away, and Alice ran around the counter to join him as they got her to a chair.

“Mom! Are you alright?” Alice asked as she knelt by the chair. Kat nodded, trying to regain her wits.

“Are you sure, can we get you some water?” Matthew inquired from her other side.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry…I thought…I thought you were someone else,” Kat weakly responded.

“You said, ‘Thomas’ before you fell…” Alice reminded her, as if she needed any reminding.

“Yes, well…sorry…” she repeated, struggling to compose herself. Alice stared back at her, knowing that name. She glanced again at Matthew and wondered how her mother had mistaken this guy for Thomas. “The” Thomas from 1814. Jacob’s friend. The man who took a bullet for the family. The Thomas that she knew her mother had fallen in love with months before.

“No need to be sorry. Matthew Goodwin, at your service,” her rescuer replied with a smile. A smile that reminded Kat so much of Thomas that her heart almost broke as he reached out his hand to help her out of the chair. She took the offer as she fought back tears that were inexplicably forming in her eyes. His gentle yet firm grasp so achingly familiar to her hand and her heart.

“Order up!” came the announcement from behind the counter. Matthew excused himself, much to Kat’s relief, and returned to the counter for his order. He politely nodded to Alice and Kat as he made his way to the door.

“Sure you’re okay?” he questioned as he paused one last time. Both women nodded yes, as he hesitated just another moment before leaving. As he walked to the door, he considered they both looked ready to conclude this initial meeting, but he had to admit, he had never seen a woman almost faint at the sight of him. There had to be more to it than a mistaken identity.

Later that evening, as Matthew sat by the fireplace at Lingermore finishing off a glass of French Syrah, he couldn’t help but think of the incident earlier that day. Had she said, “Thomas?” Odd, that Thomas just happened to be the name of his twin.

The next day, Matthew wasted no time in getting to his morning visit, having set up the time with Del, the day before. His curiosity could hardly be contained. Casey had already told him that all three generations of women lived at the Landry farm, and he had been looking forward to meeting Del for quite some time. His mother had mentioned her several times over the years, and Matthew had detected a slight hint of jealousy at the name. Most likely over Colton, specifically, he speculated. And now that he had encountered Alice and Katherine, he was more than intrigued as to what the new day may bring.

Del answered the door that morning, warmly greeting him, and drawing him into the kitchen. She was as beautiful as she’d been described. He walked into the charming room and immediately felt at home.

Jacob, sitting at the kitchen table, took one look at Matthew, choked, and attempted to cover his mouth as he spewed his coffee across the table. He shot a glance at Kat who looked back at him with an, “I told you so!” look that all big sisters master at an early age. He quickly rose to introduce himself, sizing Matthew up and wondering how he was related to his best friend yet knowing instantly that he most certainly was.
A moment later, Alice came bounding down the steps to join them. She couldn’t miss hearing any details of the obvious mystery she was hoping would soon unfold. Nodding to Michael, she greeted him with a smile, and offered a slightly awkward, “Hello, again!” as she sat down next to Jacob.

After some initial pleasantries and an empty cup of coffee, Del excused herself to tend to her many projects, leaving the next generations to the remainder of the visit. Another round of coffee and more banana bread with butter was all it took to continue their conversation. Somehow, all four felt an almost instant and mutual trust, and a knowing that they had more to discuss.

“So, I realize we just officially met, but we’ve known about each other for years, right? Why did you decide to stay in Europe rather than live in Port Haven? Are you here to stay? Are you living at Lingermore?” She stopped for a breath as Jacob interrupted.

“Kat, let the man answer!” Everyone shared a nervous laugh, and Jacob continued, “Please excuse my sister. But, as you found out yesterday, you look a lot like a friend of ours. Actually, my best friend…aside from her,” giving a nod to Kat. “And we haven’t seen him in a while. In fact, we’re not sure we’ll ever see him again…”

“I understand,” Matthew gently replied. “I’ve lost a lot of people in my life. I know what it feels like to miss them.” After what seemed a very long pause, he continued, “I don’t know if you know this, but I’m adopted. My mother, Evelyn, actually found me by a river in Dublin before she married Charles. I was only a few years old at the time, and somehow, just lost my whole family. I can’t really explain it, but one minute I was playing in a river and the next, I went under, and somehow, when I popped back up to the surface, everyone was gone. That’s when mom found me…”

Kat, Jacob, and Alice all exchanged knowing glances. Jacob looked Matthew straight in the eye and said, “The same thing happened to me. Except I went backward in time…to 1790.”

Matthew stared at Jacob in utter shock.

“Did you have any siblings?” Kat gently asked after a few moments.

“Yes…two brothers. I had a big brother, Patrick, and then my twin, Thomas.” Matthew quietly replied as his mind began to sort through these new revelations.

“Do you remember what year you were born? Your birth parents’ names? Where you lived?” Kat inquired.

“Kat, let the man think.” Jacob again tried to calm his sister. “She’s a journalist,” he explained, but he could hardly contain the excitement himself.

“No…I was just a little kid…but…”

“We think we know your brother,” they said in unison, looking at each other after blurting it out, and then back to Matthew.

“Thomas?” Matthew replied, with a look of sheer disbelief.

“Yes. He’s alive in 1815, right here in Port Haven.”

“But it’s 2025.”

“Matthew, the pond on our property seems to be a portal that allows us to travel through time. Have you ever gone swimming back at the river where you got lost as a kid?”

“Absolutely not. It was a terrible experience and I’ve never gone back there.”

“Understandable. I felt the same way.” Jacob replied, nodding in support. “If it weren’t for Kat, I would still be in 1815, probably dead by now…she figured it out and went through the pond to find me and bring me back home,” as he looked over and gave her another grateful smile, squeezing her hand.

“Now what?” they all wondered aloud, as they looked around the table and nervously laughed.

“I don’t know, but somehow, Thomas needs to know that his twin is here, in 2025, with us!” Jacob declared.

Chapter 18: Three Friends and a Bottle of Rum

It had been three months since Jacob left. Elijah, Susanna, and Thomas were gathered around the Landry kitchen table, sharing a bottle of rum, and missing him. And his sister, Katherine. “There’s something I need to tell the two of you,” Thomas began. “I’m not sure, but I think I may be able to travel through the pond…”

“I don’t think you can, Thomas. I’ve already tried. With Katherine.” Susanna succinctly pointed out.

“I understand, but I had an experience quite like what Jacob described to me. I was almost sixteen at the time, and I went back to the river where my brother…my twin…had presumably died, fourteen years earlier. I was pulled underwater by some force I could not explain and fought my way back to the top that day. Now, knowing Jacob’s real story, and meeting Katherine, and knowing they both traveled through the pond, many times, I think I need to give it a try.” He paused.

Elijah and Susanna looked at him, not saying a word. Neither had ever known that Thomas had a twin, or how he had died. They only knew he had lost two brothers. And they certainly never knew he understood the time traveling element of the Landry Family to that degree.

He continued, “You must know, the two of you are like family to me. I wanted to say ‘goodbye’ in person, in case it works. I don’t want to just disappear, the way I lost my brother, or Katherine lost hers. I want you to know that it was my choice to go, if it works. And I hope I end up where I want to be, with Katherine, and Jacob.”

Elijah listened intently, and silently nodded his head in understanding as his gaze fell to the tabletop. Susanna sat for a moment, stood and turned to look out the window, looked back at Thomas and pleaded with tears in her eyes, “I want to go, too…”

“I’m sure you do,” Thomas gently offered. “And who is to say if another attempt may turn out differently?” he added. But in all their hearts, they knew it was not probable.

Minutes ticked by on the clock, the only sound breaking the silence. Then Susanna added, “Would any of you would come back to visit?”

“I honestly don’t know, Susanna,” Thomas responded in tender sincerity. “I don’t even know if I can go…I just know I need to try…”

Chapter 19: My Five Minutes

“Alice?”

She whipped around to see who called her name while simultaneously searching for clues as to what year she had landed in. Wringing her hair out as she climbed off the rock, she could not fathom who would recognize her here if she had ended up in 1815. Barely completing her thought, the figure of a man stepped out from the trees and onto the path reaching out his hand.

“Colton?” she asked in a hopeful question, as she took a few steps forward. He smiled and nodded. She paused for a moment shaking off a few more droplets of pondwater as her mind confirmed recognition, then rushed towards him with arms flung wide open. He wrapped his arms around her laughing while tears formed in his eyes as they shared a sweet moment of reunion. “How can you be here?” she asked.

“Well, I could ask you the same question!” he replied with a grin. She stepped back and smiled, then hugged him again, wiping away a few tears of her own. She could hardly believe what she was experiencing, but then she reasoned, that was becoming the “norm” over the last year or so.

She took a step back and said, “I thought you were…dead?”

“Well, it’s complicated. I’m not dead now,” he attempted to vaguely explain.

Alice shook her head in confused understanding, and realizing she would not be getting further explanation at the moment, then asked, “what year is it now?”

Colton glanced around and shared, “I haven’t been here long, but I’m guessing early 1800’s based on the state of the farm. I haven’t seen anyone yet.”

“Why do you think you’re here?” Alice asked. They both knew there must be a reason, and a reason they were both here at the same time.

“Well, I think I’m here to find the man who stole my daughter’s heart. And you?”

“Thomas? I’m here to find him, too. Mom needs him,” she shared in agreement. “I know what he looks like now, I met his twin yesterday.”

Then they turned, continuing their conversation, while nonchalantly walking up the path towards the farm as if they had done it dozens of times before.
“So, I have to ask…” she inquired, “Did you know who I was when I first showed up at the farm?”

“Well, I had a pretty good idea,” he admitted. “Especially after you sang with me and told me your mother had given you a guitar that looked just like mine,” he said with a loving grin.

“Remember that day when that guy came to help you with the loft you were fixing up for Elliot?” she teasingly quizzed.

“Yes, I do indeed,” Colton replied, trying to keep a straight face.

“That was me,” Alice proudly declared. “I brought him there. He needed to see you again.”

“Well, I certainly appreciated the visit. Thank you,” he shared.

As they cleared the tree line, they paused, contemplating their next move just as Elijah came around the curve interrupting them, “Hello, hello. How are you folks today?”

Colton paused a moment as he took in the face of the man, the relative of several generations' past, who had raised his son. And then, introduced himself, as well as his granddaughter. Elijah nodded, taking in another moment of astounding revelation. Much like Alice, he was getting used to the unusual. Within a few moments, they were all headed to the farmhouse for a seat around the kitchen table.

“So, you are Katherine’s daughter. I can see the same determination in you that I saw in her,” Elijah shared, smiling. “And our Jacob…your Jacob, is your uncle.” And looking at Colton, “Your son.”

“Yes,” Colton confirmed, nodding to Elijah and then to Alice. “Thank you for taking in my boy all those years ago. I searched for him endlessly. I knew he was somewhere…”

“It was our pleasure,” Elijah continued. “He healed our pain. He was the reason we stayed in Port Haven.”

“He speaks of you often,” Alice offered Elijah, hoping that would be of some consolation. Elijah looked down at the woodgrain on the kitchen table and nodded.

After a few moments, she continued, “So, Thomas…what can you tell us about him?” But before he could answer, there was a knock on the door. Elijah rose to greet the newest visitor and both Alice and Colton turned towards the entryway, hoping to see Thomas.

“Dad?” the visitor asked, with a crack in his voice as he focused on the people in the room. Jacob’s blue eyes quickly began to fill with tears and Colton nearly overturned the table as he rose to wrap his long-lost son in his arms. Several minutes transpired as both wept tears of joy while taking turns stepping back, soaking in the sight of the other, and hugging again. Elijah quietly walked over to a dresser drawer and withdrew a handful of hankies, wiping away his own tears, as he gently laid the stack on the table. He patiently waited his turn to greet Jacob, while Alice just sat there, taking it all in, her face beaming and her heart full of love.

Once again, everyone took a seat at the table and Alice, being the most composed of the group at that time, simply stated, “Well, that was quite the family reunion!” and everyone burst into laughter.

“This calls for a celebration!” declared Elijah as he once again rose from the table, grabbed a handful of glasses, and a bottle of rum.

After Elijah poured the first round, Alice gingerly reached for the bottle and turned it carefully in her hands. “From Thomas?” she inquired, as she looked back to Elijah.

“Yes,” Elijah confirmed. She smiled and nodded.

“Do you know where he is?” Jacob inquired. After recovering from his initial shock of reuniting with his father, he remembered he had come back specifically to try to escort his friend to 2025. He couldn’t imagine his life, or his sister’s life for that matter, without Thomas in it.

“Well, no. I don’t,” he slowly responded. “I only know he was going to try to travel through the pond to find Katherine and you, Jacob, in your own time. He explained to Susanna and me the other day that he thought he might be able to go and wanted to say goodbye. I haven’t seen him since.”

Silence followed as the table of time travelers began to speculate on where Thomas may have ended up if indeed, he could travel through the pond.

Chapter 20: Are the Stars Out Tonight?

A small fire crackled and spat sparks into the cool spring air at the cove. Thomas and Kat sat snuggled on a log, faces glowing in the light of the fire, with the sound of the waves gently rolling onto the shore in the background. “I knew I would find you,” Kat leaned back, smiling up at Thomas.

He squeezed her tighter and replied, “I would have never stopped looking for you,” as he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.

“Are you ready to reunite with your brother?” It was late, and the day had been one of exhilaration, now followed by exhaustion. “He’s got the guest room ready for you, and I’m sure he’s anxious to see you again…and I’m ready to share you…for a little while,” she teased with a smile.

“Your wish is my command,” said Thomas as he stifled a yawn. They rose together and began walking down the beach.

“And then, meet my daughter? And…mom?” she questioned. “she’s been through a lot lately, but I have a feeling she’s gonna love you. And I know Alice will.”

“Let’s save that for tomorrow,” he replied with a grin as they locked arms.

He smiled again and gazed up at the stars, knowing he had finally found his way home.

 

~ THE END ~