A Family Apart (13 page)

“Then suppose you find a spot to talk together,” Andrew began.

He was interrupted by the family who had arrived late. The man slapped a pudgy hand on Andrew’s shoulder, forcibly turning him. “That boy,” he said, pointing at Mike. “We want to take him.”

Frances, who had jumped from the platform, whirled to look at Mike. He was the only child left of those who had come on the Orphan Train. His face was red with embarrassment, and Frances knew he was holding back tears with great difficulty. Her heart breaking, Frances took a step toward Mike, but the fat woman pushed between them.

Frances saw a frown draw Andrew’s eyebrows together. “Mr. and Mrs. Friedrich,” he said, “you understand that these children are to be treated like family members. They are not to be used as hired hands.”

“Of course, of course,” Mrs. Friedrich said. “He’ll be another son to us. We’ll give the boy good food.” She smiled and glanced quickly at her husband. “The boy needs only some good food to make him grow tall and strong.”

“Our own son works beside me on our farm. I will not ask more of the boy than of my son. But it makes no matter. We have been approved by the committee,” Mr. Friedrich stated, as though that should settle it. He asked Mike, “What is your name, boy?”

“Michael Kelly, sir,” Mike said.

Mr. Friedrich turned to Andrew. “Where are the papers
we are to sign? It is almost a two-hour ride back to our farm. We don’t want to waste any time.”

But Andrew looked carefully at Mike. “Do you want to go with them, Mike?” he asked. “It’s your choice.”

Frances listened for his answer as intently as Andrew did.

Mike looked about him at the otherwise empty platform, and Frances could see that he tried to put on a brave face. “It seems to be my only choice, Mr. MacNair,” he said. “Yes, I’m game for it.”

“Frankie? Are you coming?” Mrs. Cummings put a hand on Frances’s shoulder, urging her toward where Mr. Cummings and Petey were waiting.

“Yes, ma’am. Just one minute, please,” she said. She squeezed past Mrs. Friedrich to reach Mike and hugged him. “Go with them only if you really want to,” she whispered.

“It couldn’t be as bad as if I’m sent back,” he mumbled against her ear.

“They don’t seem like very kind people.”

“Have you ever known me not to be able to hold my own?” He pulled away, squared his shoulders, and attempted a smile.

“You can say good-bye later,” Andrew reminded them, so Frances reluctantly let go of her brother’s hand and followed Mr. Cummings.

All of us have homes, just as Ma wanted
, Frances thought, but she gave a glance back at Mike, hoping his new family would turn out to be better people than she guessed them to be.

The next few minutes were a blur of new faces, voices, and papers to sign. Then Katherine and Andrew came to stand in front of Frances.

“Katherine and I will stop by the Cummingses’ farm
in a few days,” Andrew told her. “Some small tools Jake ordered haven’t come in. They’re due on the next steamboat from St. Louis.”

Katherine interrupted. “We’ll deliver them ourselves. It will be a good excuse for a visit.”

“I’ll be so glad to see you!” Frances blurted out to Andrew before she thought. She tried hard not to blush at her eagerness.

“And so will we,” Margaret Cummings said and explained to Frances, “We’re all very good friends.”

Katherine gave Frances a folded sheet of paper. “I wrote down your brothers’ and sisters’ addresses, and I’ve given them yours. You can keep in touch with them by letter until the next time you meet.” She held out a hand to Frances. “Mr. Friedrich is eager to get back to his farm, so now would be a good time for you children to say good-bye to one another.”

Peg dashed toward her, and Frances dropped to her knees to throw her arms around her littlest sister.

“I want you to come, too!” Peg cried.

“I can’t, love,” Frances whispered against her hair. “But you’ll have Danny. The two of you will be together.”

Danny squeezed them both so tightly it was painful. “I know how much you’re hurting inside,” Frances told him, “and I’m proud of you, Danny.” Danny’s body shook in a long, deep shudder, and she could tell he was fighting back tears.

Megan ran to them, wrapping her arms around Frances’s neck. “I’ll miss you so terribly much!” she cried as she clung to Frances. “I’ll be all alone!”

“No, no, you won’t,” Frances murmured. “You’ll have the fine people you’ll be going with. They’ll take good care of you. You won’t be alone.”

“But I won’t be with you!”

“Oh, Megan!” Frances cried. She shut her eyes against the burning pain of tears she refused to shed. “Write to me,” she said, “and I’ll write to you.”

“I can’t write!” Megan wailed.

Frances quickly soothed her. “But you’ll learn. Now you’ll have a reason to learn. Your—your new mother will help you, and until you do she’ll read my letters to you and—”

Megan burst out, “I don’t want a new mother! Oh, Frances, can’t we go home?”

Her words were a slap that shook sensibility back into Frances. She straightened. “No,” she said. “Face the truth, Megan. We can’t.”

Megan stopped crying and blinked at Frances, who sounded so bitter she startled herself. “Megan,” Frances said more softly, “Megan, you know that I meant—”

But Mike rushed to hug them, and Frances could feel the sobs that shook his body. Peg began to whimper, and Petey wailed.

Danny clung to Mike and cried, “What will I do without you, Mike?”

Mike just shook his head, snuffling and trying to smile at Danny. “You’ll do just fine, my lad,” he said. “Better than ever without me.”

Danny shook his head as though he didn’t believe those words any more than Mike did. “What about you, Mike?” he asked. “How will things work out with you?” He glanced suspiciously at the Friedrichs, and Frances knew that she wasn’t the only one who was concerned about what kind of home they’d make for Mike.

“Have you ever known me to be down-and-out?” Mike retorted. He gave Danny a playful shove.

But Danny didn’t return it. “Mike,” he murmured as
tears rushed to his eyes, “I’ll never be the same without you nearby.”

With a cry Mike dove into Danny, burying his head in Danny’s shoulder, and Frances reached over to enfold her brothers.

Suddenly Frances felt a hand on her shoulder, and Andrew said, “It’s time to go now.”

Megan and Peg only squeezed in more tightly, but Frances struggled to break free and get to her feet. She wiped her eyes on the back of one hand and gave a loud sniffle.

“Mr. MacNair is right,” she said firmly. “We’ve had our chance to say good-bye, and now we mustn’t keep our new families waiting any longer.”

“Frankie?” Megan whispered.

“Good-bye, sister.” Frances gave her one last kiss and a tentative smile. “I don’t know when we’ll be together again, but I’ll write to you. Often!”

Megan, subdued, allowed herself to go with the Browders. Mrs. Browder’s own eyes were as red as Megan’s as she took Megan’s hand.

The Swensons gathered up Danny and Peg, and with a last tearfully murmured “I’m sorry,” from Mrs. Swenson to Frances, they hurried from the room.

“Be quick with you, Michael!” Mr. Friedrich said. “You should be a man and not waste time with foolish tears.”

Mike shivered, and Frances reached out to rest her hands on his shoulders. She looked toward the Friedrichs. “If ever you need me, Michael Patrick, I’ll come,” she said firmly. “I won’t be far away.”

Michael stood as tall as he could and tried to smile. “I’ll make do,” he told her. “Nothing’s going to get the best of me. I’m starting a new life in the West with a new
family.” He paused and for just an instant regained his cocky grin, adding, “And shouldn’t you now be saying, Frankie Kelly, ‘and that’s the all of it?’ ”

“Be off with you, Mike,” she said, answering his smile and trying hard to keep the tears from returning.

She felt a strong hand take her own, and she looked up to meet Jake Cummings’s warm eyes. Petey, held high in his arms, looked to Frances for reassurance. “Ready?” Jake asked. “We’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”

“I’m ready,” Frances said with determination. But she trembled, because the words were nothing more than a brave lie.

“F
RANKIE
! F
RANKIE
,
WAKE
up! We’re almost home!”

Frances struggled to a sitting position as Margaret’s voice penetrated her dreams. She rubbed her eyes, then reached for Petey, who laughed.

“I’m up here on the big seat!” he crowed. “You slept for a long, long,
long
time!”

Frances knelt to look ahead and saw the road curve, leading upward past what looked like a forest.

Jake half turned to glance at her, then looked back at the road. “Cottonwoods near the water,” he said, “but that’s a good oak-hickory stand ahead. Lucky for us, the drought hasn’t hit the east part of Kansas too hard.”

“Drought?” Frances asked.

“It’s been a dry year for folks who’ve settled farther west. To keep a farm going, you need plenty of rain. Not too much, not too little, just enough to soak the ground at the right times and help the crops grow to their peak.”

Margaret laughed. “You sound like a real farmer.”

“I thought he was a farmer,” Frances said in surprise.

“Mr. Cummings has two horses.” Petey offered helpfully, “so he must be a farmer.”

“That’s right, Petey,” Jake said. “I am, but I wasn’t until just six years ago. I taught at a university, Margaret was a teacher in a primary school, and we lived in New England—in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, to be exact. Then a group of us decided to come to Kansas to homestead.”

Frances was still puzzled. She grabbed for the side of the wagon to steady herself as the wagon dipped into a rut in the dirt road. “Did you get tired of the work you were doing?” she asked.

“No,” Margaret said. “Someday I’d love to teach again, but we were needed in Kansas.”

“Do you know what slavery is, Frankie?” Jake asked.

Frances pictured the black man being led away in chains at the train station. “Yes,” she answered.

“Our country’s national lawmakers worked out what they called a compromise—the Missouri Compromise. It gave us an equal number of states who accepted slavery and states who didn’t. With a new Free State and new territories added since then, the balance has shifted. The people who live in those territories want them to be free-soil, but the Southerners say no. The only way to succeed in making Kansas a Free State is to become a homesteader and have a voice in Kansas policy.”

“We came to Kansas because we believe that slavery is wrong,” Margaret said. “Many people have sacrificed the comfortable lives they had in the East for this cause.”

Sacrifice! That word again.
Frances nodded as Margaret spoke, but it was hard to understand. Frances was sure she would rather be a teacher than a farmer. To
work with books, to learn from them, and to help others learn—that would be a wonderful job. She wondered if they missed the jobs they had and the land they came from. No. She couldn’t understand.

“We’ll soon be home,” Margaret said, “and I know you’re going to enjoy your welcome.”

“Welcome?” Frances asked.

“Some of our neighbors planned to come to meet our child—our children—you. We’ll have quite a party.”

“What’s a party?” Petey asked.

“You know,” Frances said, “like when Ma and Da would sing Irish songs, and we’d drink hot tea with milk and sugar.”

Margaret smiled. “At this party our friends from all the nearby farms will come, each of them bringing home-cooked dishes, and roasted meat, and fruit pies. There’ll be other children to play with, and games, and good conversation.”

“We’ve never been to that kind of a party,” Frances said.

“Oh!” For a moment Margaret looked distressed. Then she gave Petey a little hug and said, “Then this will be your first Kansas party. I can promise that you’ll enjoy it!”

The river was a thin ribbon of mirrored sunlight below and to the east as the horses turned off the dirt road into a narrower lane and slowly tugged the wagon up a slight rise. Ahead, beyond a half dozen wagons lined up near the lane, Frances could see a two-story wood house, bright with white paint. Just to the right of it was a small log cabin, and to the left of it was a barn, larger than the house. She sat erect to study the buildings. The house was like a palace compared to the building in which she had lived in New York. It was
every bit as grand as the house she had built in her dreams.

Margaret’s voice rose in a happy lilt as she explained, “Our house is new. A real house again! We’ve had five good years and one fair one of com and wheat, and we were able to build.” With pride she added, “And we have our own well! We no longer have to carry water from the river.”

Two boys dashed around the side of the house, stopping when they saw the wagon. Both were blond; one was tall and one stocky. They were dressed much as Frances was, in collarless shirts, loose jackets, and trousers. The tall one stayed to wave while the other ran inside the house, calling out and banging the door behind him. As they pulled to a stop near the barn, the door to the house opened, and a flurry of children and adults ran outside. With them ran a large, shaggy-haired brown dog.